Windows and Doors: A Poet Reads Literary Theory

Roots in Our Throats: A Case for Using Etymology

Roots in Our Throats A Case for Using Etymology Every piece of writing depends on two language tools—diction and syntax—tools so basic that writers often don’t think about them. But poets in particular need to pay attention to syntax and diction. While the teller of a story may successfully employ very simple syntax and diction—as in the folktale—the poet is ever intent on refining these tools, even in the seemingly simplest of poems. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, in Table Talk, July 12, 1827, says as much: “I wish our clever young poets would remember my homely definitions of prose and poetry; that is, prose = words in their best order; poetry = the best words in their best order.” Our focus, then, begins with diction—the deliberate choosing of the “best” words. An understanding of diction is rooted in understanding the very origin of those words, that is, with etymology. Because English words have origins in Anglo-Saxon, Latin, and Greek, a writer can often choose between these “families ” to achieve a particular effect. Moreover, understanding etymology allows a writer to tap into buried or historical meanings of words, thereby amplifying the effect of a single image. And finally, etymology provides access to history and an understanding of ideological change. Because language changes more slowly than culture, etymology reveals surprising disparities between the two. The word “malaria ,” for example, comes from the Italian (“bad air”). When the word was coined, the disease was thought to be caused by the air around Roman swamps, but we now know the disease is caused by mosquitoes carrying protozoa. The word “pride,” for another example, referred to the “first sin” during Milton’s era, but today “pride” connotes a badge of honor, as in “gay pride.” 2 In the case of “pride,” a change in context appears to have risen from a change in thinking about individual power. Thus a contemporary American reader might consider Adam’s “pride” (“man’s first disobedience”) as a positive attribute, akin to taking initiative. Etymology, we see, is the tool that helps writers to understand their cultures. My personal understanding of etymology and the ideological nature of language has been shaped by philosophy, specifically by the work of Friedrich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, Ludwig Wittgenstein, and Jacques Derrida. In his essay “Building, Thinking, Dwelling,” Heidegger writes that language “tells us about the nature of a thing, provided that we respect language’s own nature. In the meantime, to be sure, there rages round the earth an unbridled yet clever talking, writing, and broadcasting of spoken words. Man acts as though he were the shaper and master of language, while in fact language remains the master of man.”1 Language represents ideology, a web of assumptions about the world, a web too large and powerful for any one person to change. In this respect, language supports the status quo, the best example being the case of English, a language that represents a patriarchal ideology. And so by providing access to ideology , language helps us understand problems in the status quo. Families of Words The English language is lexically rich because of its history. From Old Norse influence we get basic words such as “she” and “they,” plus everyday nouns like “skin” and “egg.” When the Norman French invaded England in 1066, French became the language of the English court and the ruling class, and Germanic-based Old English was relegated to “the common people.” For a period of four hundred years, English both lost distinct letters and gained new spellings from the French. By Shakespeare’s time, English had also absorbed many Latin and Greek words. By the time Samuel Johnson wrote his dictionary in 1755, the challenge was to standardize what had already become an unruly—or gloriously rich—language, infused with new words prompted by 3 colonization, exploration, and technology. Meanwhile, as English entered the New World, it was further enriched by Native American words (such as “canoe” and “moccasin”) and borrowings fueled by British colonialism, such as “dinghy” and “pajamas ” from Hindi. Like French, German, and Italian, the English language has Indo-European roots, but English diction is less pure—and more interesting—because its synonyms have roots in both the Anglo-Saxon and the Latinate/Greek, and because it has also absorbed “New World” words. Until our era, most writers learned Latin and Greek. They were trained, too, in the history and...