A SPELLER'S DIARY
Getting Started
Pages 1-10
Pages 1-10 (2nd)
Pages 11-20
Pages 21-30
Pages 31-40
Pages 41-50
Pages 41-50 (2nd)
Pages 51-60
Pages 61-70
Pages 71-80
Pages 81-90
Pages 91-102 I
Pages 91-102 II
Pages 103-114
Pages 103-125
Pages 114-125
Pages 126-138
Pages 139-152
Pages 153-167
Pages 153-167 II
Pages 153-167 III
Burgonet
Pages 168-180
Pages 181-192
Pages 181-192 II
Pages 193-205
Insult Terms I
Insult Terms II
Pages 193-205 II
Pages 206-220
Pages 206-220 II
Pages 206-240
Pages 221-240
Pages 221-240 II
Pages 241-260
Pages 221-260
Pages 261-300
Pages 281-300
Pages 281-300 II
Pages 300-320
Pages 300-320 II
Pages 300-320 III
Pages 300-320 IV
Pages 300-320 V
Pages 320-340
Pages 320-340 II
Pages 320-340 III
Pages 320-340 IV
Pages 320-340 V
Pages 320-340 VI
Pages 340-350
Pages 351-370
Pages 351-370 II
Prescind/Prorogue
Pages 351-370 III
Pages 371-390
Pages 371-390 II
"Dys" Words
Pages 391-410
Pages 391-410 II
Ectomorphic et al.
Pages 411-420
Pages 411-430
Resile
Re II; Repristinate
Pages 411-430 II
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57. Pages 371-390 II
Bill Long 5/30/05
Finishing the "D's"
This mini-essay will consist of several words which don't call for special comment and a few that do. Let's first return to The List.
The List
A duiker is either of two small African antelopes, while a dumka is an East European folk ballad or lament. Dumortierite, named after the Frenchman Dumortier, is a silicate of alumina, occurring in minute crystals in gneiss (pronounced NICE). Dundrearies are long side whiskers. The OED only has it capitalized, Dundreary, and says it is named after a character in Tom Taylor's 1858 play, Our American Cousin. The OED defines Dundreary as "long side whiskers worn without a beard" while the Collegiate defines them as "long flowing sideburns." Get this. The OED has NO SEPARATE ENTRY for sideburn. I looked it up, and thought that I must have made a mistake. Surely, a term so common, both in common speech and in historical meaning (named after Civil War General Ambrose Burnside) would be in the OED. But no, it isn't there. But, Dundreary is there. Yep. Of course, everyone calls sideburns Dundrearies. Ah, take that back. There is an entry under definition 27 of "side" in the OED; one of about 50 words that is a "side-hyphenated" word...."side-burn." Gee thanks, Brits.
A duroc is any of a breed of large vigorous American hogs. Glad that the OED has a nice entry under this. Maybe it is trying to make up for its pitiful entry on side-burn. Duvetyn is a smooth lustrous fabric, while duxelles is a garnish or stuffing of finely chopped mushrooms. A dybbuk comes from Jewish folklore and, according to the Jewish Enclclopedia, dibbukim are transmigrated souls. In the singular dybbuk is a malevolent spirit of a dead person that enters and controls the body of a living person until exorcised. Wait. This definition, from the OED, doesn't sound right. I studied Judaism for many years, and they don't really talk much about exorcisms and possession by evil spirits. That is a "Catholic reading" of Judaism, I thought. Sure enough, I did a little internet research and discovered an interview with Rabbi Gerson Winkler, who studied Jewish folklore and spirituality for more than 25 years. He said, "[Jews] don't believe in demonic possession. We believe that on very rare occasions, there can be a possession of a living person by the soul of one who has left the body but not the world (figure that one out!), and they're seeking a body to possess to finish whatever they need to finish." What Winkler does in "exorcising" the dybbuk, which he has done four times, is not really to exorcise it, as in Catholic theology/practice, but rather to "charm it" or "heal the soul that's possessing and heal the person. It's all about healing--we do the ceremony on behalf of both people." Now that is more like it!
Looking a Little Closer at Drupaceous and Duende
I am sensitive to "ceous" words because the word I slipped up on last year was one: "sericeous." Something drupaceous is something bearing drupes. I probably should have figured. But what is a drupe? The Century walks us through that nicely. In botany it is a "stone-fruit" or "a fruit in which the outer part of the pericarp becomes fleshy or softens like a berry, while the inner part hardens like a nut, forming a stone with a kernel." Examples of this phenomena occur in plums, cherries, apricots and peaches. There are actually four parts to such fruit: the kernel (innermost), the "stone" or endocarp or putamen, the mesocarp or sarcocarp (the succulent soft part of the fruit) and the cover or epicarp. I think I have used the term exocarp previously for the outside layer, and I see no reason not to do so. But that gives us six "carps," doesn't it? Exocarp, epicarp, pericarp, mesocarp, sarcocarp, endocarp. Sorry to carp on this, but I find it interesting.
Then, there is duende. The Collegiate defines it as "the power to attract through personal magnetism or charm," but that really doesn't get at the phenomeon. The OED has it as "a ghost, an evil spirit," or, otherwise, "inspiration, magic, 'fire.'" Only the 1970 quotation from the OED begins to get at the issue: "His own dancing was polished but lacking what Spaniards call duende--the demoniacal intensity which sweeps audiences off their feet." I found the following great quotation from an online 1998 Time Magazine article:
"The most elusive word in the Spanish language is duende. Like a breeze or moonlight, it is more easily experienced than explained. In stories, it means simply an imp or goblin, or a poltergeist-like force that disturbs the spirit of a house. But it runs much deeper than that; duende is almost a blood-type. Someone who has it in their veins is likely to be creative, fey, prescient, spontaneous, captivating, maybe melancholic, volatile. Or none of these. One of duende's charms is that just when it seems grasped, it slips away like a trout; makes a chord change; turns quick as a small child from laughter to tears. But if you had to pin just one name to this bewitching faculty, the name would be Federico Garcia Lorca."
I like the phrase: "this bewitching faculty." It sounds like it is different from the dybbuk from Jewish folklore, but is a creative energy, a power, an inspiration, a breathing into the soul of the very breath of life that then becomes expelled as the soul creates its life and its work. Calm Protestants might sing, "Spirit of God descend upon our Hearts," but I think I am much more interested in the volatility of the duende.
Conclusion
I can't believe it. We are now ready to move to the "E's." In order to do that I had to skip all the "dys's." Maybe I will devote an essay to some of them. The first "E," however will be ealdorman, pronounced AL der man, the chief officer in a district in Anglo-Saxon England. Did you know that the common person in A-S England was called a ceorl, pronounced chirl, from which we get the word churl, meaning "a rude ill-bred person"? It is the truth. Let's move on to other "e's" now.
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Copyright © 2004-2007 William R. Long |