Librari[d]an

L’amour de l’étymologie is a feature exploring the etymology of English words. Today’s definition is mesmerism. You may occasionally find this noun capitalized, for reasons that will be made evident presently.

Mesmerism, unlike most words, is derived from a rather modern proper noun. Mesmer was the surname of an 18th Century Austrian physician, Friedrich Anton Mesmer. The -ism at the end was probably borrowed from the French word mesmérisme, which first appeared in print in 1973.

So what, exactly does this word mean? People often use it as a synonym for hypnosis, but they’d be wrong. (For derivative terms, like mesmerize, the conflation is often considered acceptable.) The Oxford English Dictionary defines Mesmerism as a chiefly historical word, which refers to “A therapeutic doctrine or system, first popularized by Mesmer, according to which a trained practitioner can induce a hypnotic state in a patient by the exercise of a force (called by Mesmer animal magnetism)”. It could also mean “[1] the process or practice of inducing such a state; [2] the state so induced, or [3] the force supposed to operate in inducing it.” (Brackets are mine.)

The adherent of Mesmerism, a mesmerizer, can use mesmerism (1) on a mesmerizee, using mesmerism (3) to induce a state of mesmerism (2). Nyuck!

In 1778 Mesmer relocated to Paris after other physicians in his homeland accused him of being a sham. Six years later, in 1784, Louis XVI of France commissioned a group of scientists to evaluate Mesmer’s claims. (One of which, if memory serves, included sitting in a bathtub full of metal filings.) Some of the top minds of the time participated in the evaluation, including Benjamin Franklin and Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier. Franklin is the first recorded English speaker to use the word in writing. In 1784 he wrote that “Some think it will put an End to Mesmerism.” I’d like to know what that  something was. But I guess it’s irrelevant: Despite there being no scientific grounds for Mesmer’s practices, they remained wildly popular into the late 18th and early 19th centuries. For example, Edward FitzGerald exclaimed in an 1889 letter than “Miss Martineau has been cured of an illness of five years by Mesmerism!”

However, it is true that one of the most hilariously insane and unspeakably dense humans was an anti-mesmerism crusader. Mary Baker Eddy, founder of the cult religion Christian Science, believed that mesmerism was real, but kinda evil. Go figure.

:: Bibliography ::

“Mesmerism.” Oxford English Dictionary. 2008. 11 Jan. 2008 <http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/findword?query_type=word&queryword=mesmerism&find.x=0&find.y=0&find=Find+word>

L’amour de l’étymologie is a feature exploring the etymology of English words. Today’s entry: the noun vertigo! You may rarely find this word spelled (vertego, verteego, virtigo) and pronounced (although this is the standard pronunciation) in any number of ways. If you’re feeling adventuresome, branch out and use related words such as the adjective “vertiginous”!

Let’s get one thing out of the way: Vertigo should not be confused with acrophobia, the fear of heights.

I have been consistently fascinated by the word vertigo since childhood, having seen Hitchcock’s classic of the same name at a tender age. Hypnotized by the film’s salient imagery, captivating score, and general pathos, I found myself returning to the term time and again. Only about a year ago I discovered that the title - Hitchcock’s personal favorite for the film - barely survived the journey to the marquee. (There were around fifty suggested titles ready and waiting to oust Vertigo.) In late October of 1957 the studio asserted that “No execs like Vertigo and believe it handicap to selling and advertising picture whether potential customers know what word vertigo means or not”. (Auiler 113)

This quote most likely explains why the original trailer for Vertigo opens with a shot of a dictionary. The book opens and the camera zooms in on a page as a quick dissolve takes viewers to a detail shot of the entry for “vertigo”. A voice-over informs the audience that the word means “a feeling of dizziness … a swimming in the head … figuratively a state in which all things seem to be engulfed in a whirlpool of terror.” As the book spins and dissolves into one of Saul Bass and John Whitney’s iconic spiral motifs - known properly by the name “Lissajous spirals” - it seems reasonable to ask just how much of this definition is fact and how much is hyperbole.

In truth, the clever mind that thought up this educational prelude got the meaning pretty much right.

In the original Latin, vertigo meant “a turning around, giddiness”. The Romantic languages inherited this term, and it can be assumed that Anglophones adopted the word from either French or Spanish. The first known use of vertigo in English has been dated to 1528 in Paynell’s Salerne’s Regim, which describes “The heed ache called vertigo: whiche maketh a man to wene that the world turneth”. The main gist of vertigo has followed this pathological assessment. The Oxford English Dictionary’s primary entry: “A disordered condition in which the person affected has a sensation of whirling, either of external objects or of himself, and tends to lose equilibrium and consciousness; swimming in the head; giddiness, dizziness”. The term can also be applied to animals such as horses, sheep, and hawks–although any link between dizziness and these animals’ diseases seems tenuous.

All that jazz is without adding an article. You can slap an “a” or “the” before vertigo if you don’t mind sounding a bit backward. Similarly, using plural forms (vertigos, vertigoes, verteegoes, vertigines) may sound awkward to contemporary ears.

Figurative uses of the word came along later, with the first recorded use in 1634. Vertigo in this case means “A disordered state of mind, or of things, comparable to giddiness.” The OED quotes people who wrote that art, power, and intellectualism may induce this state.

The final use of vertigo is as a noun which encapsulates the “act of whirling round and round.” Although loaded with poetic potential, this usage seems relatively rare; the only historical quote the OED cites is 19th Century writer Thomas de Quincey’s use of the word to describe a top in his Autobiographical Sketches.

That’s all she wrote. Stay tuned for more etymologies and musings on Hitchcock’s Vertigo!

:: Bibliography ::

Auiler, Dan. Vertigo: The Making of a Hitchcock Classic. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1998. ISBN: 0312169159.

“Vertigo.” Oxford English Dictionary. 2008. 2 Jan. 2008 <http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/findword?query_type=word&queryword=vertigo&find.x=0&find.y=0&find=Find+word>.

L’amour de l’étymologie is a feature exploring the etymology of English words. Today’s entry is carom, also sometimes spelled carrom. Visit this link to hear the folks at Merriam-Webster pronounce it. Lord knows why the OED only uses the international phonetic alphabet. Some people are auditory learners. (…or lazy types like me who haven’t bothered to learn the IPA.)

The first recorded use of the word was by Charles Jones in 1775 in the book Hoyle’s Games improved. An abbreviation of carambole, a noun meaning the red ball used in a game of billiards, it has since developed a distinct meaning. Carom can act as a noun, and refers to a shot in billiards when the cue ball hits two balls in succession. (Need to visualize? Check out this video of Semih Sayginer showing off his caroming skills/knowledge of trajectory angles.)

Carom also has a more generalized meaning when used as an intransitive verb. To carom is to “strike or glance and rebound”. So, flat stones can carom across the surface of a pond when thrown properly. It can also be employed figuratively: Bernard Wolfe wrote in Limbo ‘90 that a “phrase caromed through his mind.” Carom is used figuratively chiefly in the good old US of A.

:: Bibliography ::

“Carom.” Oxford English Dictionary. 2007. 21 Dec. 2007 <http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/findword?query_type=word&queryword=carom&find.x=0&find.y=0&find=Find+word>.

I’ve been thinking about cartography quite a bit too much lately, thanks to two buddies who have been encouraging my interest in maps with their enthusiasm and creative writing. So today, I thought to myself, I would begin a feature seductively (gahaha!) entitled “L’amour de l’étymologie”. Silly I know, but shit like this sounds pleasantly oceanic in French, so get off my back. Justifications aside, I chose the word legend because of maps.

Legend can be used as a noun in any number of ways. (Next time, for the sake of my sanity, I will choose a word that cannot be used in any number of ways.) Most of the archaic ones deal with the lives of saints, collections of the lives of saints, instructional booklets which conatin educational information on the lives of saints(!), etc. Some other obsolete meanings include: a history/account and a roll/list/record. It can be used to refer to writing(s) in general, but this is a rare usage.

Legend can also mean an inscription impressed on a coin/medal or the “written explanatory matter accompanying an illustration, map, etc. Also attrib., as legend-line.” I like the alliteration of that last one. (Hey, check out that rockin’ font they used on the legend-line. Death to Helvetica!)

Contemporary meanings that include variants of what we sorta-kinda thought we knew what legend meant: “An unauthentic or non-historical story, esp. one handed down by tradition from early times and popularly regarded as historical.” For an individual: “A person of such fame or distinction as to become the subject of popularly repeated (true or fictitious) stories”. The person may be “famous or notorious only for a short period of time, within a limited social circle, or in one’s own estimation”. Often, the person may be described as a legend in one’s own time.

The word has a nautical meaning: “Applied to the estimated or planned displacement, speed, etc., of a ship before construction or testing.” I don’t have a firm grip on this definition (rhetorical lie), so here’s an example from that old blatherer, Sir Winston Churchill: “If you ask your people [the Admiralty] to give you a legend for a 16-inch-gun ship, I am persuaded they would show you decidedly better proportions than could be achieved at 14-inch.”

As a transitive verb, to legend means “To tell as a legend”; to “legend out” means “to tell stories of; to tell of in legend”. This usage was first recorded in 1597, but is now considered obsolete. (Example: I’m totally glad George W. DaSent legended the burning of Bergthorsknoll in English. Totally.)

At this time, I refuse to define urban legend, urban myth, and legend’s many attributive uses.

:: Bibliography ::

“Legend.” Oxford English Dictionary. 2007. 12 Dec. 2007 <http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/findword?query_type=word&queryword=legend&find.x=0&find.y=0&find=Find+word>.