Thursday, 23 May 2013

Bêtise

Some Mother Do 'Ave 'Em, Michele Dotrice, Michael Crawford, Bétise
'Betty's Frank Spencer'
(even now Betty has the ability to arrest my complete attention)

BÊTISE

Noun. Plural pronounced same. Early 19th century.
[French = stupidity, from bête foolish from Old French beste beast.]

A foolish, ill-timed remark or action; a piece of folly.

Part of the problem with beautiful French words like bêtise is not only remembering them in the first place but also remembering how they're pronounced (especially tricky if, like me, you're not a French speaker). However, I do believe I've discovered a rather easy mnemonic for bêtise, French for stupidity, and adopted into English to mean a foolish or ill-timed remark or action.

Frank Spencer from Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em is a classic character from British 1970s television, together with his long-suffering (and ridiculously beautiful) wife Betty. Although the programme was largly based around slapstick humour (the hugely talented Michael Crawford renowned for his own stuntwork), Frank's half-wittery was also expressed through his inept and foolish speech, especially when trying to find a job. When it inevitably ends in disaster, one of Frank's catchphrases is 'Ooooh Betty!', a catchphrase that is still commonly echoed across Britain today, especially by those who aren't particularly good at doing impersonations but like to give it a try anyway.

So, to remember bêtise and its pronunciation, just think of 'Betty's Frank Spencer'. If you say that phrase in a French accent, you'll never have any problem remembering either the word or its pronunciation again (granted, this only works if you're British or are familiar with 1970s British television - if you're not, then I'm afraid you'll just have to learn it, and you really should, because it's a smashingly lovely word indeed).

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Bête noire

The Office, Fued
Toby Flenderson: Actually he is kind of annoying!

BÊTE NOIRE

Foreign. Noun phrase. Plural bêtes noires (pronounced same). Mid-19th century.
[French 'black beast'.]

The bane of someone's life; an insufferable person or thing; an object of aversion.

If ever a co-worker sends you a rock as a gift with a note saying 'Suck on this!', then congratulations -  you can properly consider yourself someone's bête noire. This is also true if they take the time to egg your house, suggest that you're an animal rapist, say that you're the worst human ever or that they'd shoot you (twice) over Hitler and Bin Laden. With any one of these, you're firmly in bête noire territory.

Toby Flenderson of The Office suffered all of these indignities and more at the hands of Michael Scott, the Scranton branch manager of the Dunder Mifflin Paper Company. Michael hates the fact that Toby, as the corporate HR representative, is not really under his authority, that Toby is often the first one other staff approach with their problems and that it's his job to object to and curtail Michael's frequently unethical, offensive, illegal and downright dangerous actions. Remarkably, Toby never reciprocates Michael's aggression or contempt, but rather remains ever calm and almost frustratingly mild.

Many memorably flawed characters have their bêtes noires - Homer Simpson has Ned Flanders, for example, and Frasier Crane has Cam Winston. What's interesting about all of them is that, in different ways, they all serve to expose in even greater contrast the failings of their haters. One can't help but think that this is probably a common theme in real life too. Those people out there that really irk us, that really get under our skin and make us want to egg their house or send them a rock as a present - there's probably something about them that shows up something in ourselves that we don't like or, perhaps far worse, something about us that others don't like.

Have you ever had (or do you have) a bête noire? Do you think you are a bête noire? If so, do please tell us all about it!

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

Bespangle

Gold and Citron Spangled Hamburg Bantams. Photo by Ryan Zierke

BESPANGLE

GUEST POSTING BY SALLY PRUE

Verb trans. L16.
[from BE- + SPANGLE noun]

Decorate or adorn (as) with spangles.

Bespangle is rather an awkward word. It's heavy and ungainly, and it tastes of newly bent steel and piping.

What? 

Ah. So that's just me, then. 

Ah well ...

Bespangle is a word of magic and mystery, all the same. The night sky is bespangled, heaven only knows how or why, and all we poor sublunary creatures can do is gaze and shiver in awe at the colossal miracle above us.

Well, gaze, shiver in awe and send up the Hubble telescope, anyway.

But whether it's a trapeze artist's costume that's bespangled:


Or a fifteenth century bishop's cope:


The purpose is the same: to bewitch, bedazzle and bewilder the senses, and sprinkle over the wearer an illusion of the divine.

Sally Prue
-


I'm very proud to introduce the award-winning children's writer Sally Prue as today's guest poster. Sally's book Cold Tom won the Branford Boase Prize and the Smarties Silver Award, and The Truth Sayer was short-listed for the Guardian Children's Book Prize. She also writes The Word Den, a blog with the most wonderful tagline 'ordinary-sized words are for everyone, but the big ones are especially for children.'  I couldn't agree more, so a magniloquent welcome and grandiloquent thank you to Sally for writing in Lexicolatry - this is all rather exciting! Ed

Monday, 20 May 2013

Besmirch

Besmirch, Sully, Dirty, Stain, Discolour, Smirch, Blacken,

BESMIRCH

GUEST POSTING BY KATIE DWYER

Verb trans. Late 16th century.
[from BE- + SMIRCH verb, prob. symbolic: compare smite, smudge, smut, etc.]

Dull or discolour, as with smoke or mud;
dim the brightness of; fig. sully (reputation etc.).

This is another of those phonosemantic words I love: if you smirch something, it gets all besmirched.

My favorite definition involves the physical besmirching, as in ‘he returned to find his grandmother’s antique sofa besmirched by muddy dog prints.' But when I think of where I see the word used most, it is in regards to the defiling of one’s reputation, as in ‘she worried that the incident with the chocolate syrup would besmirch her otherwise unimpeachable good name.'

For some reason the word also conjures a kind of childlike delight at the action: canvases besmirched by fingerpaint, faces besmirched by raspberry juice and vanilla ice cream, a new dress besmirched by the inept (and illicit) application of Mommy’s lipstick.  There is something playful in the sound of the word that makes the figurative reputation-soiling definition uncomfortable.

It seems to me that a good smirching would do all of us some good. 

(But then, this is coming from the guest blogger who also advocated phonosemantic ‘fuddling.’  Perhaps I’m just a romantic for funny-sounding be- prefixed words.  I hope we can all agree there are worse things.)

Katie Dwyer
Besmirch, Dirty, Sully, Mark, Stain, Smirch

A big thank you to the utterly unbesmirchable Katie for another excellent post. Ed.

Sunday, 19 May 2013

Beslobber

Beslobber, Beslaver, Licking, Disgusting, Wet
"Ewwwwwww!" is the only right and proper reaction to this photo by Mike Baird

BESLOBBER

Verb trans. Late Middle English.
[from BE- + SLOBBER (verb) probably from Middle Dutch slobberen walk through mud, feed noisily.]

Slaver or slobber over.

Please straighten your smirks and tame your titters: the wetness of kissing is actually an area of serious scientific study by some very clever people indeed. Did you know, for example, that men are inherently more partial to a sloppy wet kiss? Quoted in the National Geographic article 'Why Men Are Sloppy Kissers', anthropologist Helen Fisher from Rutgers University said in her best academic language that men 'prefer more tongue action'. 

Personally, I run counter to the evolutionary theory posited in that article as I don't particularly appreciate someone beslobbering all over me, even if it does give me the reproductive advantage of 'detecting traces of estrogen' in her dribble. Evidently some do, however, and I present a picture of a grown man being beslobbered by a dog and a scene from Hot Shots! Part Deux that always make me chuckle.





Do have a read of the National Geographic article, especially if you feel that there's too much romance in your kissing and you'd like to have it dissected and dissolved under the cold hard microscope of science. On the other hand, if you're in a relationship with a beslobbering ape and don't like it, there are a number of handy guides offering tips on discreetly discouraging him from leaving you looking like you've fallen face first into a bowl of wallpaper paste.  

If you're willing to share your personal preferences in the 'to beslobber or not to beslobber' debate, or any tips on discouraging it, please do so in the comment section below. 

Saturday, 18 May 2013

Beslaver

Beslaver, Dribbling, Spittle, The Simpsons, Beslobber, Beslubber

BESLAVER

Verb trans. Late 16th century.
[from BE- + SLAVER Middle English, possibly Low German; come with slobber]

Slaver or dribble over.

Not only does the mere mention of food make Homer Simpson beslaver like a St Bernard, the mere mention of something that could possibly be construed as sounding a little bit like a food can set his salivary glands a-churning (such as D'oh! and Nuts! said in tandem). We shouldn't be quick to judge him, however, as the average adult generates between 2 and 4 pints of saliva per day and it has to go somewhere. This, I should point out, is a very useful fact to know for the next time a globule of spittle reaches escape velocity mid-conversation and lands in someone's eye. Honestly. Try telling them that. It diffuses the embarrassment every time.

Friday, 17 May 2013

Beshrew

Beshrew, Curse, Imprecate, Cute, Animal,
How did this loveable little rogue (picture by Joey M) get tangled up with this nasty business?
(he didn't apparently, because it's an Elephant Shrew which, I've no idea why, is not a true shrew)

BESHREW

Verb trans. Archaic. Middle English.
[from BE- + SHREW Old English screawa, scræwa, Old High German scrawazz dwarf, Middle High German schrawaz, schrat, schröuwel devil,
Old Norse skrogger fox, Icelandic skröggur old man, Norwegian skrogg wolf, skrugg dwarf, Swedish dial. skrugge devil, skragga.]

1. obsolete. Make wicked, deprave. ME-M16

2. Invoke evil upon; curse, blame for a misfortune. Now chiefly in imprecations: the Devil take -, curse -. LME

When I came to write about the word beshrew this evening, I was struck by despondency. It's not been a great day, and here I am facing a word that's all about invoking evil and blaming others and calling down wickedness, etc, etc. What's worse, it is actually connected to a little animal that I'm rather fond of: the humble shrew (yes, it does seem obvious that it would be to do with shrews and not, say, elephants, but I didn't realise there was a connection between the cute animal and the cursing, rather than just a different shrew word altogether).

Fortunately, while casting forth imprecations would once have struck terror into people, cursing has rather lost its edge in this part of the world and any attempt to literally beshrew someone is likely to get little more than a raised eyebrow. So rather than ponder on the horror and beastly nastiness that beshrewing actually is, I did a little scouring for imprecations that, for whatever reason, don't quite work (or do work but in a pleasing way). I don't know if they're authentic, they're probably all mistranslations, but here are my favourite five:

  1. May you live in interesting times
    Chinese
    But alas no! This famous curse is (rather spoil-sportingly) not authentic, or at the very least a mistranslation of a real one. While it's construed as 'may you live in turbulent times', it's still a rather pleasing thought and, as imprecations go, would be quite a nice one to have hurled at you after a particularly rancorous game of Boggle.


  2. May the cat eat you and the Devil eat the cat
    Irish
    This rather convoluted curse kills two birds with one stone, so to speak, although again I must object to an innocent animal being caught up in all this nasty imprecatory business. The only one that could be forgiven for beshrewing the cat would by the eponymous shrew himself. As for me, once I've been eaten by the cat, all further predation seems somewhat redundant, so go ahead; see if I care who or what eats the cat.

  3. May you find the bees but not the honey
    Irish
    It's rather poetic, it creates a pleasing image and colour scheme in the mind, and therefore this classic Irish curse gets two anaphylactic thumbs up.

  4. Throw salt in his eyes and pepper in his nose
    Yiddish
    'Never beshrew upon anyone what you can more easily do yourself,' said no one, ever, but I stand by those words. It does seem a tad lazy to be calling upon the universal forces of good and evil to do this when, if you really feel that strongly about making someone sneeze and giving them itchy eyes, you can far more easily do this yourself.

  5. May God give you thousands of trouble
    Turkish
    This would be the point that I should just shut up and walk away, but I wouldn't be able to; I would feel compelled to point out that trouble is an uncountable noun and therefore 'thousands of trouble' makes no sense at all. To be honest it was probably such pretentious pedantry that lead to me getting cursed in the first place. Will I ever learn?

Are there any humorous, nonsensical or rather sweet imprecations where you're from? If so, let your fingers type freely and your comment box be filled with insightful and pithy witticisms.

Thursday, 16 May 2013

Bertillonage

Mug shot, Crime scene photography, Bertillonage, Anthropometry
The man himself - posing for one of his own mug shots

BERTILLONAGE

Noun. Late 19th century.
[French bertillonnage, from Bertillon]

The system of identification of criminals by anthropometric measurements, fingerprints, etc.,
 invented by French criminologist Alphonse Bertillon (1853-1914).

In most Western countries, we live in a privileged age in which authorities wield a wide range of scientific techniques in order to identify and apprehend criminals. It wasn't always like that of course, and one of the great pioneers of applying science to law enforcement was the eccentric French police officer Alphonse Bertillon.

Coming from a family of statisticians (although himself of humble education), Bertillon was dismayed at the rather slip-shod record keeping of the police. Information kept on criminals was laughably scanty - often little more than a name and a photograph could be used to identify repeat offenders. In his spare time, Bertillon therefore set about developing an anthropometric system of measurements that he believed would greatly assist in the identification of recidivist criminals. The system worked on the theory that the aggregate of approximately ten core measurements would be unique to the individual. Once recorded, a person could be easily identified should he come into police custody again, simply by matching his unique combination of measurements to those already on file. As a means of identifying repeat offenders, it was a potent weapon.

The accuracy of bertillonage, as it came to be known, was impressive and from 1882 it was quickly adopted by police forces in France, Britain and the United States as an effective tool in identifying recidivist offenders. However, flaws in the system soon surfaced, although these were more to do with its implementation than the system itself. To work effectively, bertillonage required exacting measurements, a level of accuracy that was simply beyond the ability of most police officers who were not formally trained in anthropometry. Different officers would produce different results by employing slightly different methods, a problem which served to undermine the entire system - once a mistake had entered into the complex filing system, it was almost impossible to remove it. Lastly, the core measurements that bertillonage relied upon were discovered to not be as immutable as previously thought, as various measurements did change as a person aged.

Alphonse Bertillonage, Anthropometry, Detective, Detection, Law enforcement, Forensic science
Some of the measurements taken to construct a profile

A large part of bertillonage's demise, however, was simply the advancement of other sciences, particularly that of fingerprinting which was being adopted by the late 1890s. While it was only marginally more accurate than correctly applied bertillonage, it was considerably easier to implement, requiring both less equipment and less training. Crucially, fingerprinting is also an effective weapon in apprehending first time offenders, as prints left at a crime scene can be matched to any suspects, regardless of whether it's a first-time offence or not.

Despite the short lifespan of bertillonage (less than 20 years), it and its application left a considerable legacy in the realm of law enforcement and anthropometric studies generally. For example, the importance of accurate and proper record keeping across police forces was highlighted (an area that still causes considerable problems today), and its methodical and objective approach did much to enhance both the credibility of the police and the public's trust in them. The ubiquitous mug shot is also a relic of bertillonage, as is the routine recording of other identifying features such as scars, tattoos and birthmarks, etc. Bertillon also instigated considerable advancements in crime scene photography, including using grids in-shot to scale both the area being photographed and the objects in it.

Lastly, it's noteworthy that Alphonse Bertillon had the respect and admiration of the world's greatest fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes, and therefore by extension his creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In The Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes' client refers to Bertillon as the "highest expert in Europe" with regard to the application of science to detection (although Holmes is preferred for the case as a "practical man of affairs", despite only being the "second highest expert"). Despite Holmes' displeasure at being ranked second in this instance, in The Naval Treaty, Watson recounts a conversation with Holmes about Bertillon's system of measurements and Holmes' "enthusiastic admiration of the French savant." From both Holmes and Conan Doyle, this is high praise indeed.

Wednesday, 15 May 2013

Berserk

Go berserk, Norse, Warrior, Viking, Battle
White snow and red blood, eh? Who'd have thought?

BERSERK

Noun & adjective. Also (archaic) baresark, bersark; (chiefly as noun) berserker, -kar. Early 19th century.
[Old Norse berserkr, accusative berserk (Icelandic berserkur), probably from birn-, bjorn BEAR noun + serkr coat, SARK noun, but also explained as from BARE adjective.]

A noun. A wild Norse warriour who fought with frenzied fury. E19
B adjective. Wild, frenzied. Especially in go berserk. M19

I was really hoping to find a historically accurate depiction of a Norse berserker to lead this post but, alas, after way too much time spent searching, I couldn't. Being something of a cliché, I found plenty of pictures, of course: vampire berserkers, demon berserkers, berserkers with bionic arms, berserkers carrying swords the size of trucks, even hamster berserkers. You'll have to settle with this, however: the cover of William Meikle's book Berserker. No, I've never heard of him (or it) either, but it has good reviews on Amazon so if it floats your longboat you should have a squizz.

As for the word berserk, well it's just rather interesting, isn't it? Rather like the word amok, we use it a lot without giving much thought to the historical depth that lies behind it. Personally, I find it rather pleasing to think that an adjective derived from frenzied, bloodthirsty, possibly drug-addled Norse warriors can now be applied to Cindy, the receptionist that got drunk at the office Christmas party, overturned a table of drinks and accused Malinda from accounting of sleeping with her husband. That's rather cool.

Have you gone beserk recently? Is the berserker your favoured character class when playing Dungeons & Dragons? Have you, like me, struggled in vain to find accurate artwork depicting berserkers (apparently they're not ideal portrait models)? Do please comment below.

Tuesday, 14 May 2013

Berhyme

Berhyme, Rhyme, Poem, The Bloody Orkneys, Captain Hamish Blair
The flag of the bloody Orkneys

BERHYME

Verb trans. Also berime. Late 16th century.
[from BE- + RHYME verb or noun]

Compose rhymes about; lampoon in rhyme.

In fairness to the Orkneys and Orcadians, the author of the poem below, Captain Hamish Blair, sounds like a (bloody) miserable git. Apparently posted to the Scottish islands during World War II, it's fair to say that he never really settled in and spent most of his time trying to watch old movies and getting rebuffed by the local women. He did, however, find time to lampoon the islands, their people and their local government through the medium of rhyme and therefore gives us a stellar example for the verb berhyme.

The Bloody Orkneys
by Captain Hamish Blair

This bloody town's a bloody cuss -
No bloody trains, no bloody bus,
And no one cares for bloody us -
In bloody Orkney.

The bloody roads are bloody bad,
The bloody folks are bloody mad,
They'd make the brightest bloody sad,
In bloody Orkney.

All bloody clouds, and bloody rains,
No bloody kerbs, no bloody drains, 
The council's got no bloody brains
In bloody Orkney.

Everything's so bloody dear,
A bloody bob for bloody beer,
And is it good? - no bloody fear,
In bloody Orkney.

The bloody 'flicks' are bloody old,
The bloody seats are bloody cold,
You can't get in for bloody gold,
In bloody Orkney.

The bloody dances make you smile,
The bloody band is bloody vile,
It only cramps your bloody style,
In bloody Orkney.

No bloody sport, no bloody games,
No bloody fun, the bloody dames
Won't even give their bloody names
In bloody Orkney

Best bloody place is bloody bed,
With bloody ice on bloody head,
You might as well be bloody dead,
In bloody Orkney.

Unimpressed with the Captain's somewhat biased depiction of their beloved islands, there is an apocryphal Orcadian stanza floating around too:

Captain Hamish 'Bloody' Blair
Isna posted here nae mare
But no one seems to bloody care
In bloody Orkney.

Ouch! Touché! Consider yourself berhymed, Captain! Clearly the pencils were sharpened for that little zinger. If you have any favourite examples of berhyming, or if you'd like to compose a little rhyme yourself, do feel free to do so below (there will be one bajillion points to anyone that can successfully rhyme something with Lexicolatry - I tried and I failed horribly).