So-called Superior Words: Infra dig and Barmecide

I ran across the Superior Person's Book of Words (vol. 1) when I was cleaning out my closet downstairs and decided to work through the 500 or so words in this little book. Whereas I disagree with the philosophy of Peter Bowler, the author, I find the book occasionally useful and illuminating. Bowler's philosophy seems to be that big words are to be used to obscure conversation and to make funny references that confuse all present. Perhaps this approach to words was "in" when the first edition came out in the late 1970s; perhaps this is an example of Aussie humor. In any case, I am interested in "big words" or "superior words" for another reason--to clarify or make more precise the topic on which you are speaking. That is, I don't have much time for big words for their own sake or to play games of one-upmanship; if, however, they enlighten and educate, I am all for 'em.

I knew most of the words in the book, but several of them invite consideration and exploration. Let me list them here, and then devote this and the next few essays to them: barmecidal, infra dig, bel-esprit, bellibone/kallikak, biggin (with a detour on attifet), bucentaur, cacophemism, caducous, framboesia, ignotum per ignotius, jobe, lexiphanic, nepotation, nympholepsy and nullibiety. If you just take time with words, as with almost every other human phenomena, you learn a lot, people think you are a genius and your life improves.

Barmecide

Anytime you can learn a word from the Arabian Nights, learn it! This classic has sort of passed out of fashion in America, but it contains delightful and imaginative stories celebrating a city that we have largely destroyed--Bahgdad. The Arabian Nights bequeathes to us a number of words, the most famous of which is probably "Scheherazade." She, the narrator of the tales, has given her name to any (attractive) female narrator or story-teller. Thus, Mario Puzo could write in the 1970s, "During that happy time, a blond Scheherazade, she told me the story of her life."

But another word it gives us is Barmecide or barmecidal. Bowler defines a Barmecide as "an insincere benefactor; one who hold out illusory offers, or who promises but does not deliver." The Barmecides were a prominent family in Abbasid Baghdad, and their name provided the occasion for a delightful story, number 13, in the Arabian Nights. Schacabac, the sixth brother of the narrator, inherited money from his father squandered it and was in need. Passing a richly appointed estate, he inquired of the servants who resided within. Barmecide lived there. The starving man was ushered into the hall of an aged Barmecide, who proceeded to offer him a sumptuous meal. However, each element in the meal was illusory. Barmecide first suggested, for example, that they wash their hands before dinner--with imaginary soap and water. Then came the imaginary bread and main course. Barmecide seemed to savor it, and Schacabac went along with the ploy. Finally, after Barmecide offered Schacabac illusory wine, the latter tried to strangle Barmecide. He was unsuccessful at it, and the two then yukked it up at the fun of the ploy. Barmecide then treated Schacabac to a full meal.

Though you might derive a lot of points (and pleasure) from the very-brief story, the English language takes over the word Barmecide, capitalized in the dictionaries, as a person offering imaginary food or illusory benefits. It is often used attributively, but can be used adjectivally: "My dear Barmecide friend" (Thackeray) or "It is a Barmecide Feast; a pleasant field for the imagination to rove in" (Dickens). I think the word has lots of legs today--to describe someone who promises something s/he can't or won't deliver. It is good to know this precise story because otherwise you might think that Barmecide has to do with killing something. Not at all.

Infra Dig

When I entered the world of law in 1996 I was fascinated with the system of notation used by law journals. Instead of using Ibid. for something just quoted, they would use Id. Law had all kinds of rules about how you cited cases and articles; how you abbreviated states and collections of laws, etc. Indeed, since law is so desirous of getting things "right," it became quite comical to read the ways that they said things had to be abbreviated--until, of course, the next edition of the definitive abbreviation gude came out, which changed many things. My approach with my students was always to encouage them to follow one method consistently and just to make sure that the source was clearly indicated. With the advent of the Internet, however, I think there ought to be far less emphasis on "proper" citation. All you really need is the title of something and you can find it.

Well, this long introduction is meant to prepare us for the Latin word infra. Law was enamored of this word, as well as supra. Supra was used in footnotes to indicate an "above" or previous place in the article where reference was made to the idea; infra was employed to indicate that a discussion on something was coming--i.e., it would be "below." This, then, provides the context for understanding infra dig. It is a colloquial abbreviation for "infra dignitatem" or "beneath one's dignity." If something is infra dig it is undignified or not becoming a person's dignity. It is "beneath me," so to speak. Thus, until Bill Clinton taught the political world otherwise, it was infra dig for a politician to appear on a talk show or play a humorous role on late-night TV. The term goes back to 1822, when an author said, "If the graduates...express their thoughts in English, it is understood to be infra dignitatem."

As any of you who are regular readers of my pages know, words lead me to other words, and I become hopelessly drawn down side roads and cul-de-sacs. Well, an 1824 appearance of infra dig in Walter Scott's Redgauntlet made me take a brief detour to understand that work, which I had not read. A brief partial summary is here. Suffice it to say that this work was the last of Scott's novels about the Jacobite cause that ultimately failed with the abortive revolt of 1745. As the summary says, "Scott was genuinely nostalgic for the lost world (of the Stuart dynasty, which flourished in the 17th century) and mourned its passing as a tragic loss." But his moral point in Redgauntlet was that it was necessary for people, as well as movements, to recognize when their time was past, settle outstanding grievances and not let the cause fester for years to come.

I suppose that is a debatable lesson from the past, but it nevertheless inspires thought as well as imagination. And, because of infra dig, I was led to consider the work for a moment. What gifts words bring!

Conclusion

I see I am out of time here, without making much progress, and so let's go to the next essay.

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