{"id":53,"date":"2016-08-01T19:20:45","date_gmt":"2016-08-01T23:20:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/?post_type=chapter&p=53"},"modified":"2016-11-30T17:07:57","modified_gmt":"2016-11-30T22:07:57","slug":"%c2%a7107-interesting-words","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/chapter\/%c2%a7107-interesting-words\/","title":{"raw":"\u00a7107. Interesting Words","rendered":"\u00a7107. Interesting Words"},"content":{"raw":"

There are some Greek 1st declension nouns that have entered English with only a minimum of change. Though it comes through French from Latin zona<\/b>, our word zone<\/i> is derived ultimately from Greek \u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03b7 (z\u014dn\u0113<\/strong>), \u201cbelt,\u201d \u201csash,\u201d \u201cgirdle.\u201d The word \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03c9\u03c1\u03b7 (pl\u0113th\u014dr\u0113<\/strong>) meant \u201cfullness\u201d or \u201csatiety\u201d; we use its Latin adaptation plethora <\/i>to describe a superabundance or excess of something\u2014as in \u201cCanada has had a plethora of Royal Commissions.\u201d The shellfish \u03ba\u03bf\u03b3\u03c7\u03b7 (Latin concha<\/b>) is the source of the English conch<\/i>. The precious resin \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03c1\u03b1 (L myrrha<\/b>[footnote]When double rho<\/em> occurred in the middle of a word, the first \u03c1 was unaspirated and the second \u03c1 carried a rough breathing: \u03bc\u03c5\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03b1. This combination of sounds was represented in Latin by he letters -rrh-<\/strong>.[\/footnote]) was the myrrh<\/i> given by the Magi to the infant Christ. And the \u03c7\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1, a goat-lion-serpent monster of Homeric legend, has lent its name to the English chimera<\/i> (or chimaera<\/i>), a \u201cwild fancy,\u201d and chimeric(al), <\/i>\u201cfanciful.\u201d<\/p>\r\n

Because the Greeks began the tradition of western drama, it should be no surprise that a great many theatrical words are of Greek origin. So far, we have seen theatre<\/i> (\u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd), orchestra<\/i> (\u1f40\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1), and chorus<\/i> (\u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2). We could add the 1st declension noun \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03b7 (sk\u0113n\u0113<\/strong>), the stage building that served as the backdrop for early Attic tragedies; the Romans adapted this as scaena<\/i> (not an exact transliteration), and of course the word became scene<\/i> in English.[footnote] Our word\u00a0scenario<\/em> is an Italian derivative of the Latin\u00a0scaenarium<\/strong>.[\/footnote] The area in front of the\u00a0sk\u0113n\u0113<\/strong> was known as the \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd (prosk<\/b>\u0113<\/strong>nion<\/b>), a word that was regularly Latinized as proscenium<\/b>. The English word actor<\/i> is a pure Latin agent noun (Part I, \u00a773<\/a>). The Greek word for \u201cactor\u201d was \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (hypokrit<\/b>\u0113<\/strong>s<\/b>), a 1st declension masculine noun that meant \u201canswerer\u201d\u2014because the actor replied to the words of the chorus. If someone plays an actor\u2019s role in real life, he may be considered a hypocrite<\/i>.<\/p>\r\n

Two common Greek nouns that generated an amazing number of English derivatives were the 1st declension \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (\u201csheet of papyrus\u201d) and the 2nd declension \u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2. From the first came chart, card <\/i>(< L charta<\/b>), charter <\/i>(< L chartula<\/b>), cartel <\/i>(< Ital. cartello<\/i>), carton, cartoon <\/i>(< Ital. cartone<\/i>), cartouche <\/i>and cartridge<\/i> (< Ital. cartoccio<\/i>). From \u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 came discus, disc, disk, dish, desk, <\/i>and dais.<\/i><\/p>\r\n

Greek neuter nouns of the type \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, and \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd became theatrum<\/b>, centrum<\/b>, and metrum<\/b> in their Latin adaptations. After French transmission, these Latin words assumed an English spelling in -re<\/i>: theatre, centre,<\/i> and metre<\/i>. Since the time of Noah Webster\u2019s reforms, however, the words have had an -er<\/i> ending in American usage. Originally, \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd denoted a sharp spur or goad; it was the Greek equivalent of the Latin stimulus<\/b>. From the sharp point of the compass, it acquired the force of \u201ccentre,\u201d the only meaning that it carried in its Latin form centrum<\/b>. The English word concentric<\/i> (\u201chaving a centre together with\u201d) uses the Latin prefix con-<\/b> and the standard Greek adjectival suffix.<\/p>\r\n

The noun \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 denotes a human being\u2014<\/b>like Latin homo<\/b> (cf. homo<\/b> sapiens<\/b>). In the long tradition of the English language, this generic concept has always been rendered by the word man<\/i>\u2014an ambiguous term, since man<\/i> means also the male human being (Greek \u1f00\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1, \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2; Latin vir<\/b>). Quite understandably, modern feminist concerns have brought this usage into disrepute, and we are urged to replace the generic man<\/i> with human<\/i> (and mankind<\/i> with humankind<\/i>). However worthy the motive, it will be hard to purge the English language of a strong Germanic word so steeped in literary and popular tradition.<\/p>\r\n

The 2nd declension noun \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (xenos<\/b>, \u201cstranger\u201d) is one of the oldest and most highly charged words in the Greek language. From the time of the prehistoric Bronze Age that is reflected in the epic poems of Homer, the stranger was viewed as someone under the protection of the god Zeus, and a person who must be treated with the utmost cordiality and respect. Reverence for strangers became a central feature of the creed of hospitality that has continued to be a powerful force in Greece through some four millennia of human history. As a result of this attractive belief, the word \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 came to mean not only \u201cstranger,\u201d but also \u201cguest\u201d and \u201chost\u201d (= L hospes<\/b>, hospitis<\/b>). The reciprocal guest-host relationship is characterized by what the Greeks still call philoxenia<\/i> (\u201clove of strangers,\u201d \u201chospitality\u201d); it is an attitude that leaves no room for xenophobia<\/i>.<\/p>\r\n

The word \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (khronos<\/b>, \u201ctime\u201d) has many English derivatives\u2014chronic<\/i>,[footnote]The Greek adjective\u00a0\u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 is etymologically parallel to the Latin\u00a0temporalis<\/strong>, in the sense that they both mean \"pertaining to time.\" The English derivatives\u00a0chronic<\/em> and\u00a0temporal<\/em> are not exact synonyms, but they do retain this etymological kinship. We can find other such pairs of bilingual Greek-Latin parallels; for example, G\u00a0phonic<\/em> and L\u00a0vocal<\/em>, which both mean \"pertaining to the voice.\" More surprising, perhaps, is the etymological kinship between G\u00a0psychic<\/em> and L\u00a0animal<\/em> (or\u00a0spiritual<\/em>?).[\/footnote] chronicle <\/i>(< \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1), chronology, chronometer <\/i>(\u201ctime-measure\u201d), and the like. In its form and pronunciation, this Greek word was very close to the unrelated name of the god \u039a\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (Kronos<\/b>), father and predecessor of the Olympians Zeus, Hera, and Poseidon. Kronos, divine king of the generation of Titans, had assumed heavenly power through a singularly violent act: in league with his mother Gaia (Earth), he castrated his father Ouranos[footnote]As we have already seen, this Greek name was adapted in Latin as Uranus<\/strong>. The Roman god who was the counterpart of Kronos gave his name to another planet in our solar system-Saturnus<\/strong> or\u00a0Saturn<\/em>.[\/footnote] (Sky), emasculating this unfortunate deity by means of a sickle. As Greek mythology evolved, \u03a7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 and \u039a\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 became confused and conflated, and the symbolic representation of Time acquired the iconography of the divine Titan. This, we think, is the origin of that wicked scythe in the hands of Father Time. He\u2019s a Grim Reaper, indeed; any man who sees him coming would be wise to run in the opposite direction!<\/p>","rendered":"

There are some Greek 1st declension nouns that have entered English with only a minimum of change. Though it comes through French from Latin zona<\/b>, our word zone<\/i> is derived ultimately from Greek \u03b6\u03c9\u03bd\u03b7 (z\u014dn\u0113<\/strong>), \u201cbelt,\u201d \u201csash,\u201d \u201cgirdle.\u201d The word \u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03b8\u03c9\u03c1\u03b7 (pl\u0113th\u014dr\u0113<\/strong>) meant \u201cfullness\u201d or \u201csatiety\u201d; we use its Latin adaptation plethora <\/i>to describe a superabundance or excess of something\u2014as in \u201cCanada has had a plethora of Royal Commissions.\u201d The shellfish \u03ba\u03bf\u03b3\u03c7\u03b7 (Latin concha<\/b>) is the source of the English conch<\/i>. The precious resin \u03bc\u03c5\u03c1\u03c1\u03b1 (L myrrha<\/b>[1]<\/sup><\/a>) was the myrrh<\/i> given by the Magi to the infant Christ. And the \u03c7\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1\u03b9\u03c1\u03b1, a goat-lion-serpent monster of Homeric legend, has lent its name to the English chimera<\/i> (or chimaera<\/i>), a \u201cwild fancy,\u201d and chimeric(al), <\/i>\u201cfanciful.\u201d<\/p>\n

Because the Greeks began the tradition of western drama, it should be no surprise that a great many theatrical words are of Greek origin. So far, we have seen theatre<\/i> (\u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd), orchestra<\/i> (\u1f40\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7\u03c3\u03c4\u03c1\u03b1), and chorus<\/i> (\u03c7\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2). We could add the 1st declension noun \u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03b7 (sk\u0113n\u0113<\/strong>), the stage building that served as the backdrop for early Attic tragedies; the Romans adapted this as scaena<\/i> (not an exact transliteration), and of course the word became scene<\/i> in English.[2]<\/sup><\/a> The area in front of the\u00a0sk\u0113n\u0113<\/strong> was known as the \u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03c3\u03ba\u03b7\u03bd\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd (prosk<\/b>\u0113<\/strong>nion<\/b>), a word that was regularly Latinized as proscenium<\/b>. The English word actor<\/i> is a pure Latin agent noun (Part I, \u00a773<\/a>). The Greek word for \u201cactor\u201d was \u1f51\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03c1\u03b9\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (hypokrit<\/b>\u0113<\/strong>s<\/b>), a 1st declension masculine noun that meant \u201canswerer\u201d\u2014because the actor replied to the words of the chorus. If someone plays an actor\u2019s role in real life, he may be considered a hypocrite<\/i>.<\/p>\n

Two common Greek nouns that generated an amazing number of English derivatives were the 1st declension \u03c7\u03b1\u03c1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 (\u201csheet of papyrus\u201d) and the 2nd declension \u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2. From the first came chart, card <\/i>(< L charta<\/b>), charter <\/i>(< L chartula<\/b>), cartel <\/i>(< Ital. cartello<\/i>), carton, cartoon <\/i>(< Ital. cartone<\/i>), cartouche <\/i>and cartridge<\/i> (< Ital. cartoccio<\/i>). From \u03b4\u03b9\u03c3\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 came discus, disc, disk, dish, desk, <\/i>and dais.<\/i><\/p>\n

Greek neuter nouns of the type \u03b8\u03b5\u03b1\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd, and \u03bc\u03b5\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd became theatrum<\/b>, centrum<\/b>, and metrum<\/b> in their Latin adaptations. After French transmission, these Latin words assumed an English spelling in –re<\/i>: theatre, centre,<\/i> and metre<\/i>. Since the time of Noah Webster\u2019s reforms, however, the words have had an –er<\/i> ending in American usage. Originally, \u03ba\u03b5\u03bd\u03c4\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd denoted a sharp spur or goad; it was the Greek equivalent of the Latin stimulus<\/b>. From the sharp point of the compass, it acquired the force of \u201ccentre,\u201d the only meaning that it carried in its Latin form centrum<\/b>. The English word concentric<\/i> (\u201chaving a centre together with\u201d) uses the Latin prefix con-<\/b> and the standard Greek adjectival suffix.<\/p>\n

The noun \u1f00\u03bd\u03b8\u03c1\u03c9\u03c0\u03bf\u03c2 denotes a human being\u2014<\/b>like Latin homo<\/b> (cf. homo<\/b> sapiens<\/b>). In the long tradition of the English language, this generic concept has always been rendered by the word man<\/i>\u2014an ambiguous term, since man<\/i> means also the male human being (Greek \u1f00\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1, \u1f00\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03bf\u03c2; Latin vir<\/b>). Quite understandably, modern feminist concerns have brought this usage into disrepute, and we are urged to replace the generic man<\/i> with human<\/i> (and mankind<\/i> with humankind<\/i>). However worthy the motive, it will be hard to purge the English language of a strong Germanic word so steeped in literary and popular tradition.<\/p>\n

The 2nd declension noun \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (xenos<\/b>, \u201cstranger\u201d) is one of the oldest and most highly charged words in the Greek language. From the time of the prehistoric Bronze Age that is reflected in the epic poems of Homer, the stranger was viewed as someone under the protection of the god Zeus, and a person who must be treated with the utmost cordiality and respect. Reverence for strangers became a central feature of the creed of hospitality that has continued to be a powerful force in Greece through some four millennia of human history. As a result of this attractive belief, the word \u03be\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 came to mean not only \u201cstranger,\u201d but also \u201cguest\u201d and \u201chost\u201d (= L hospes<\/b>, hospitis<\/b>). The reciprocal guest-host relationship is characterized by what the Greeks still call philoxenia<\/i> (\u201clove of strangers,\u201d \u201chospitality\u201d); it is an attitude that leaves no room for xenophobia<\/i>.<\/p>\n

The word \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (khronos<\/b>, \u201ctime\u201d) has many English derivatives\u2014chronic<\/i>,[3]<\/sup><\/a> chronicle <\/i>(< \u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03b1), chronology, chronometer <\/i>(\u201ctime-measure\u201d), and the like. In its form and pronunciation, this Greek word was very close to the unrelated name of the god \u039a\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 (Kronos<\/b>), father and predecessor of the Olympians Zeus, Hera, and Poseidon. Kronos, divine king of the generation of Titans, had assumed heavenly power through a singularly violent act: in league with his mother Gaia (Earth), he castrated his father Ouranos[4]<\/sup><\/a> (Sky), emasculating this unfortunate deity by means of a sickle. As Greek mythology evolved, \u03a7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 and \u039a\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2 became confused and conflated, and the symbolic representation of Time acquired the iconography of the divine Titan. This, we think, is the origin of that wicked scythe in the hands of Father Time. He\u2019s a Grim Reaper, indeed; any man who sees him coming would be wise to run in the opposite direction!<\/p>\n

  1. When double rho<\/em> occurred in the middle of a word, the first \u03c1 was unaspirated and the second \u03c1 carried a rough breathing: \u03bc\u03c5\u1fe4\u1fe5\u03b1. This combination of sounds was represented in Latin by he letters -rrh-<\/strong>. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  2. Our word\u00a0scenario<\/em> is an Italian derivative of the Latin\u00a0scaenarium<\/strong>. ↵<\/a><\/li>
  3. The Greek adjective\u00a0\u03c7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03c2 is etymologically parallel to the Latin\u00a0temporalis<\/strong>, in the sense that they both mean \"pertaining to time.\" The English derivatives\u00a0chronic<\/em> and\u00a0temporal<\/em> are not exact synonyms, but they do retain this etymological kinship. We can find other such pairs of bilingual Greek-Latin parallels; for example, G\u00a0phonic<\/em> and L\u00a0vocal<\/em>, which both mean \"pertaining to the voice.\" More surprising, perhaps, is the etymological kinship between G\u00a0psychic<\/em> and L\u00a0animal<\/em> (or\u00a0spiritual<\/em>?). ↵<\/a><\/li>
  4. As we have already seen, this Greek name was adapted in Latin as Uranus<\/strong>. The Roman god who was the counterpart of Kronos gave his name to another planet in our solar system-Saturnus<\/strong> or\u00a0Saturn<\/em>. ↵<\/a><\/li><\/ol><\/div>","protected":false},"author":20,"menu_order":5,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"Chapter 16: The Greek Noun (Declensions 1 and 2)","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[52],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-53","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":44,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/53","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/20"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/53\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":506,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/53\/revisions\/506"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/44"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/53\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=53"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=53"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=53"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/greeklatinroots2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=53"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}