The title of this book led me to wonder whether it was going to be a history of how the Latin alphabet itself developed. It does contain a bit of that, although it’s more about those words in English that have their origins in Latin. As such it’s quite an enjoyable read for those of us who are interested in such things, although I did find the book a bit uneven. There were parts I found really interesting, and others where I struggled a bit. There was one section where the author outlined the development of punctuation marks. After reading that section I decided that the origins of words have more appeal.
The book isn’t comprehensive of course. How could it be? Also it was first published in 1985, and discusses things like how British people were nostalgic for their pre-decimal currency, which was replaced in 1971. I was born in 1961 so am old enough to remember when 10 old pennies were written as 10d – the notation standing for denarii – but I would imagine younger readers would be mystified at those references.
One thing I didn’t know, and found illuminating, was that in Roman times girls/women did not have personal names. A Roman male would have 3 names, a personal name followed by the name of his gens, (nowadays referred to as his “clan”) and lastly his family name. In an example from the book, the name Publius Cornelius Scipio would refer to Publius from the Scipian family within the Cornelian clan. However, if the aforementioned Publius had a daughter, she would simply be called Cornelia Scipio, and so would any and all subsequent daughters. If necessary they would be distinguished by the application of a suffix – Prima, Secunda, Tertia, and so on. When I’ve read Roman history I have sometimes wondered why there seemed to be such lack of variety with women's names. The women almost all seemed to be called Julia, Claudia, Octavia or Cornelia. I hadn’t realised the answer lay in them not having personal names at all.
There was a chapter on the Etruscans which I found really interesting, although I wasn’t always convinced by the accuracy of the authors’ remarks on history, once they got away from the subject of linguistics. There was also one reference I thought was a mistake. The authors refer to “…the word Gaelic, the English name of the language that the Welsh, the Scots and the Irish all speak, in one form or another.” That is incorrect! The word Gaelic is applied to the three languages of Irish, Manx and Scottish Gaelic, which are really variants of the same language and are (mostly) mutually intelligible in spoken form. The word is never applied to Welsh, which, although a related Celtic language with similar grammatical rules, is not mutually intelligible with the other three.
Although I found the word origins stuff interesting, I’ll be unable to remember most of them. I would suggest this book might be best kept for reference purposes.
For whom is this book? Let me count the peeps: Logophiles Hobby Etymologists Classical History fans Lovers of Latin People with a great sense of humor People with very little time for leisure reading
The Brothers Humez have done a delightful job in plucking stories of roots and words and letters from the vast bibliographia (oops, went Greekish there) of our Roman friends and polishing them up into highly amusing vignettes that entertain and inform from first to last.
I have so little time to spend in leisure reading nowadays (boo-hoo-hoo!) that it is a joy and a boon to stumble across such a mesmerizing collection (I found this one at Powell's Books in Portland, OR), especially when it is formatted in such a way to make it easy to pick up (though hard to put down).
Plus, this book is very, very funny. Super-sly and witty throughout. I can hardly wait to hunt up a copy of the companion volume for the Greeks: Alpha to Omega. Good times!
For years I owned this book for occasional reference. Having just read it cover to cover I would describe my reading experience as a roller coaster ride--periodic slow clicking climbs, exhilarating tumbles with hands in the air, twists of breathtaking novelty and giggles--you get the picture. If you're interested in or fascinated by language, history and antiquity, etymology, things Latin and more, you will find it mostly a whoosh to read. Some of the vistas are a breathtaking whirr. But I warn you, there are stretches of climbing that will leave you wishing you could just roll and twist and loop. And I will add, the slow stuff, the pedantic forest thick with necessary foliage, may prove meaningful to you when you're not out for a ride, but seeking answers to questions rarely asked.
I love etymology, but it's really hard to construct a proper narrative out of it, so books on etymology are often just strings of anecdotes. So is this book, but in fact its so much more-- its wonderfully digressive without losing its train of thought; it's full of tongue-in-cheek word play, and it teaches you a ton about the contexts and cultures of the places where these words "grew up". Yum.
This book jumps around a lot between stories about the origin of the letters in the Roman alphabet, origins of various words, as well as history and other stuff. Intelligent light reading. A good book to have around for short breaks, because there's no narrative flow between the chapters,which each cover one or more letters. A fun read.
This breezy volume mostly treats the etymology of English words derived from Latin, with profitable detours into other languages and the history of ancient Rome. “What does it matter,” write the authors (in the style typical of this book) “that ‘origin’ comes from ‘oriri’ or that the Christians got their origin myth from the Jews or that the Claudii probably came from Sabine stock or that your great-grandfather came from Halifax?...Maybe it’s just that, when all is said and done, everybody likes a good story.” (168)
There are good stories aplenty here if the reader can tolerate bushels of words dumped on him in baskets of overly colloquial prose. Personally, I trust the etymological instincts of the authors more than their ancient history. For instance, I don’t believe the Romans sowed Carthage with salt (93) or that Hannibal swore eternal vengeance against Rome on a literal altar of Zeus—Zeus, in this case, being a Greek “translation” of Baal. (87) And the reason we write a “last will and testament” is not just because witnesses (Latin, “testis”) are needed but because originally a will disposed of land and a testament disposed of personal property. (214)
This is a book to be read and enjoyed in the spirit of its informal style, but teachers in search of anecdotes to spice up class presentations should be wary.
I loved this quirky look at the letters of our alphabet and some words beginning with each of them. This approach provided all sorts of interesting connections and derivations. Anyone with a penchant for words and language would probably enjoy this book.
"Whether expounding on mythical beasts, Etruscan or classical verse in questionable taste, the authors provide the amateur philologist with a basketful of goodies." — Boston Globe