Some New Year's Pedantry

And a Happy New Year to you too.

Wishing you all manner of respair for the New Year. In New York City, the end of the de Blasio administration has brought a wave of respair to the city’s denizens.

I repeated the word, “respair” twice in order to show that it wasn’t a typo. It is, according to lexicographer and etymologist Susie Dent, an orphaned negative. Once upon a time the word was used as the opposite for despair. Yet, nowadays it has fallen into disuse, or, as we like to say around here, into desuetude.

Dent has made it her life’s mission to bring back respair. Surely, it’s better than moaning about despair:

But one English word surely stands above all others from the corners of the dictionary. I mention it all the time, because I’m determined to bring it back. Or bring it anywhere in fact, for it never really enjoyed more than a day in the sun. “Respair” has just one record next to it in the Oxford English Dictionary, from 1525, but its definition is sublime. Respair is fresh hope; a recovery from despair. May 2022 finally be its moment.

Yes, indeed, it’s good to have a new word that signifies the recovery from despair.

As for the larger issue, Dent explains that the category of orphaned negatives contains words that are the opposite of words that are commonly in use, but have ceased to be used. There’s kempt for unkempt, gruntled for disgruntled, ruly for unruly, wieldy for unwieldy and ept for inept. 

And that’s not all, there’s ruth for ruthless and feck for feckless. All of these orphaned negatives have disappeared from our normal speech.  Would it not be an improvement if we could start talking about eptitude? It would certainly make my life easier. 

And yet, there is still hope. We have lost, if we ever had, the opposite of discombobulated-- it’s combobulated, but, Dent informs us the Mitchell Airport in Milwaukee has a lounge where fliers can become recombobulated.

Then again, the dictionary has offers up an illuminating history of the English language, especially of words that are not orphaned negatives but that have inexplicably fallen into disuse.

Among them, words for depression, which used to be called melancholy:

As always, the dictionary tells its own story. It offers hundreds of words for melancholy, from the “black dog” and “blue devils” to the cuddlier but equally dispiriting “mubble-fubbles”. 

Once depression became a medical condition, these words disappeared.

And then there are the words for irritability:

Much the same goes for irritability – we can be curmudgeonly, mumpish, crumpsy, nettlish, porcupinal and spleenical as well as just plain narky or tetchy. 

Looking for a new insult? Here are a couple, though I have a special fondness for ultracrepidarian-- which we can all put to good use since it aptly describes so-called experts who pontificate on subjects they know nothing about. It reminds you of hearing Bill Gates lecture us on microbiology and epidemiology:

And insults abound – anyone looking to criticise covertly may well enjoy “ultracrepidarian” or “cacafuego” (one who loves to pass comment on subjects they know nothing about and a blustering braggart – literally a “fire-shitter” – respectively). 

Obviously, cacafuego is not an English word. It means a braggart or a boaster. And yet, isn’t it so much more elegant than fire-shitter? It does not take too much imagination to see herein the origin of the commonplace insult-- asshole.

Anyway, that’s your dose of pedantry for today. Have a wonderful 2022!