Je Ne Sais Quoi - Reader`s Digest Trade Publishing, Reader`s

adnauseum
• o domini (a.d.) •
aficiona-
do • bona fide • caveat emptor • casa
cause célèbre • c’est la vie •
coup d’état • déjà vu • objet d’art • e
pluribus unum • auto da fé • faux pas
nada pli gratia (e.g.) • ménage à trois
• pro bono • post scriptum (P.S.) • têteà-tête • schadenfreude
•verboten
• bête noir •
A
Certain
“Je Ne
Sais
Quoi”
ad infinitum
o domini
(A.D.)
aficionado • bona fide • caveat emptor •
co a poco • The
bêteOrigin
noirof•Foreign
cause célèbre
Usedd’état
in English
• c’est la vieWords
• coup
• déjà vu •
objet d’art • e plchloe
rhodes • auto da
CHLOE RHODES
fé • faux pas • exempli gratia (e.g.) • ménage à trois • pro bono • post scriptum (P.S.) • tête-à-tête • Schadenfreude
• verboten • Zeitgeist • mundo • ad hoc
•
•
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
À la mode
Ersatz
fashionable (French)
replacement (German)
The link between France and fashion was established by King
Louis XIV, whose court became such an epicentre of good taste
that the British aristocracy didn’t simply want to dress in French
fashion, they wanted the French phrase for it too. In the seventeenth century the term was anglicized to become ‘alamode’ – a
light silk used to make scarves. In the US the phrase has also
come to mean ‘with ice-cream’; there must have been a time in
small-town America when the combined flavours of cooked
apple, sweet pastry and vanilla represented the very latest in fashionable, cutting-edge gastronomy.
This comes from ersetzen, which means to replace, and in
Germany the term is straightforward; in sports an Ersatzspieler is
a substitute player. But it picked up some negativity on its route
into English. During World War I, when Allied blockades
severely restricted the delivery of goods to Germany, substitutes
had to be found for the basic essentials. Coffee was made using
roasted grains – and even acorns – rather than coffee beans and
the Allied prisoners of war who were given this tasteless
Ersatzkaffee took the word home with them for any inferior
substitution or imitation.
‘Can I suggest these divine little ankle boots, madam? Pythonskin platforms are so à la mode.’
‘Pass me that glass of champagne quickly, Gloria; I think that
last canapé was some kind of dreadful ersatz caviar.’
Honcho
squad leader (Japanese – from hancho)
It sounds like Spanish, doesn’t it? But it is in fact a Japanese word
that has its origins in Middle Chinese. Han translates as squad
and cho means chief, a common Japanese suffix for words that
denote leadership. English speakers use it as slang for boss, often
preceded by the word ‘head’, which, though superfluous, does
make for a pleasingly alliterative whole.
‘OK, team, this is the beginning of a brave new era; you may
think you know how to market paperclips, but I’m the head
honcho around here now, and we’ll sell them my way.’
2
3
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
À la mode
Ersatz
fashionable (French)
replacement (German)
The link between France and fashion was established by King
Louis XIV, whose court became such an epicentre of good taste
that the British aristocracy didn’t simply want to dress in French
fashion, they wanted the French phrase for it too. In the seventeenth century the term was anglicized to become ‘alamode’ – a
light silk used to make scarves. In the US the phrase has also
come to mean ‘with ice-cream’; there must have been a time in
small-town America when the combined flavours of cooked
apple, sweet pastry and vanilla represented the very latest in fashionable, cutting-edge gastronomy.
This comes from ersetzen, which means to replace, and in
Germany the term is straightforward; in sports an Ersatzspieler is
a substitute player. But it picked up some negativity on its route
into English. During World War I, when Allied blockades
severely restricted the delivery of goods to Germany, substitutes
had to be found for the basic essentials. Coffee was made using
roasted grains – and even acorns – rather than coffee beans and
the Allied prisoners of war who were given this tasteless
Ersatzkaffee took the word home with them for any inferior
substitution or imitation.
‘Can I suggest these divine little ankle boots, madam? Pythonskin platforms are so à la mode.’
‘Pass me that glass of champagne quickly, Gloria; I think that
last canapé was some kind of dreadful ersatz caviar.’
Honcho
squad leader (Japanese – from hancho)
It sounds like Spanish, doesn’t it? But it is in fact a Japanese word
that has its origins in Middle Chinese. Han translates as squad
and cho means chief, a common Japanese suffix for words that
denote leadership. English speakers use it as slang for boss, often
preceded by the word ‘head’, which, though superfluous, does
make for a pleasingly alliterative whole.
‘OK, team, this is the beginning of a brave new era; you may
think you know how to market paperclips, but I’m the head
honcho around here now, and we’ll sell them my way.’
2
3
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
Ketchup
Mea culpa
taste (Malay – from kichap)
by my fault (Latin)
Heinz’s most popular condiment began life as a spicy pickled fish
sauce in seventeenth-century China. The word is a westernized
version of kichap, which came from koechap, meaning ‘fish brine’.
The sweet red version we’re familiar with today began to take
shape when American seamen added tomatoes to the sauce –
excellent for preventing scurvy. In 1876 John Heinz launched his
‘tomato ketchup’ and it’s been a staple of British and American
diets ever since.
This phrase comes from a Roman Catholic prayer for Mass,
the ‘Confiteor’, meaning ‘I confess’, which includes the cheery
line, ‘I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word and deed:
through my fault, through my fault.’ This English translation
appeared beside the Latin in prayer books and the phrase was
absorbed into general use. Now, a ‘mea culpa’ (or ‘mea maxima
culpa’, which is also in the prayer) is an admission of guilt for
a mistake.
‘The bankers before the parliamentary committee offered apologies a plenty, but there was no sense of a personal mea culpa.’
Nous
mind/intellect (Greek)
To Homer it meant mental activity, to Plato it was the immortal,
rational part of the soul, while for Aristotle it represented the
intellect, but in spite of these varying interpretations, ‘nous’ was
generally accepted as a philosophical term for the mind. It continued to be used in this way by later philosophers, but in modern
English it has far less cerebral connotations and is used simply to
mean common sense.
‘Thanks so much for agreeing to look after him, Sarah. Here’s
his toothbrush and his nightclothes, oh, and his bottle of
ketchup – he won’t eat anything without it.’
4
‘That hairdresser could make a fortune out of all the secrets she
knows about the rich and famous, but that’s why they all like
her – she just doesn’t have the nous.’
5
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
Ketchup
Mea culpa
taste (Malay – from kichap)
by my fault (Latin)
Heinz’s most popular condiment began life as a spicy pickled fish
sauce in seventeenth-century China. The word is a westernized
version of kichap, which came from koechap, meaning ‘fish brine’.
The sweet red version we’re familiar with today began to take
shape when American seamen added tomatoes to the sauce –
excellent for preventing scurvy. In 1876 John Heinz launched his
‘tomato ketchup’ and it’s been a staple of British and American
diets ever since.
This phrase comes from a Roman Catholic prayer for Mass,
the ‘Confiteor’, meaning ‘I confess’, which includes the cheery
line, ‘I have sinned exceedingly in thought, word and deed:
through my fault, through my fault.’ This English translation
appeared beside the Latin in prayer books and the phrase was
absorbed into general use. Now, a ‘mea culpa’ (or ‘mea maxima
culpa’, which is also in the prayer) is an admission of guilt for
a mistake.
‘The bankers before the parliamentary committee offered apologies a plenty, but there was no sense of a personal mea culpa.’
Nous
mind/intellect (Greek)
To Homer it meant mental activity, to Plato it was the immortal,
rational part of the soul, while for Aristotle it represented the
intellect, but in spite of these varying interpretations, ‘nous’ was
generally accepted as a philosophical term for the mind. It continued to be used in this way by later philosophers, but in modern
English it has far less cerebral connotations and is used simply to
mean common sense.
‘Thanks so much for agreeing to look after him, Sarah. Here’s
his toothbrush and his nightclothes, oh, and his bottle of
ketchup – he won’t eat anything without it.’
4
‘That hairdresser could make a fortune out of all the secrets she
knows about the rich and famous, but that’s why they all like
her – she just doesn’t have the nous.’
5
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
Peccadillo
small sin (Spanish)
This word came to us in the mid sixteenth century from the
Spanish, who got their word from the Latin peccare, meaning
to sin. But it refers only to the mildest of transgressions; an
individual’s bad habits are often described as their ‘peccadilloes’, as long as they are mildly annoying rather than seriously
anti-social, and a one-off trivial misdeed might also be
described as such.
At the start of their relationship Jean had been charmed by
Alfred’s little peccadilloes, but as she swept his toenail trimmings off the edge of the bathtub for the hundredth time, she
knew she had to say goodbye.
Schadenfreude
pleasure taken from another’s suffering (German)
Mary couldn’t bear circus clowns; the Schadenfreude occasioned
in the rest of the audience from watching them fall over just left
her with a nervous headache.
Trek
a long and often difficult journey, especially
on foot (Afrikaans)
This comes from two German words, Schaden, meaning damage
or harm, and freude, meaning joy. Though it sounds like a mean
and disturbed emotion to feel, Schadenfreude actually forms the
basis of much of our comedy. From the slapstick antics of Charlie
Chaplin to the self-deprecatory humour of modern stand-up
comedians, as long as suffering isn’t permanently damaging, it
seems it can be enjoyable to witness. The modern obsession with
following the downfall of troubled celebrities is proof of the
word’s continuing usefulness.
‘Trek’ entered English in the nineteenth century from South
Africa, where the word was used by the Boers (Dutch settlers and
their descendants) for a journey by ox wagon. The Groot Trek
(1835) refers to the journey made by 10,000 Boers, who, discontent with English colonial rule, left the Cape Colony and travelled north and north-east. The word is universally familiar
because of Star Trek, the hugely popular long-running space
6
7
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
A Certain ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi’
Peccadillo
small sin (Spanish)
This word came to us in the mid sixteenth century from the
Spanish, who got their word from the Latin peccare, meaning
to sin. But it refers only to the mildest of transgressions; an
individual’s bad habits are often described as their ‘peccadilloes’, as long as they are mildly annoying rather than seriously
anti-social, and a one-off trivial misdeed might also be
described as such.
At the start of their relationship Jean had been charmed by
Alfred’s little peccadilloes, but as she swept his toenail trimmings off the edge of the bathtub for the hundredth time, she
knew she had to say goodbye.
Schadenfreude
pleasure taken from another’s suffering (German)
Mary couldn’t bear circus clowns; the Schadenfreude occasioned
in the rest of the audience from watching them fall over just left
her with a nervous headache.
Trek
a long and often difficult journey, especially
on foot (Afrikaans)
This comes from two German words, Schaden, meaning damage
or harm, and freude, meaning joy. Though it sounds like a mean
and disturbed emotion to feel, Schadenfreude actually forms the
basis of much of our comedy. From the slapstick antics of Charlie
Chaplin to the self-deprecatory humour of modern stand-up
comedians, as long as suffering isn’t permanently damaging, it
seems it can be enjoyable to witness. The modern obsession with
following the downfall of troubled celebrities is proof of the
word’s continuing usefulness.
‘Trek’ entered English in the nineteenth century from South
Africa, where the word was used by the Boers (Dutch settlers and
their descendants) for a journey by ox wagon. The Groot Trek
(1835) refers to the journey made by 10,000 Boers, who, discontent with English colonial rule, left the Cape Colony and travelled north and north-east. The word is universally familiar
because of Star Trek, the hugely popular long-running space
6
7