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The Meaning of Tingo and Other Extraordinary Words from around the World
A garden of delights for the word obsessed: a funny, amazing, and even profound world tour of the best of all those strange words that don't have a precise English equivalent, the ones that tell us so much about other cultures' priorities and preoccupations and expand our minds.
Did you know that people in Bolivia have a word that means "I was rather too drunk last night and it's all their fault"? That there's no Italian equivalent for the word "blue"? That the Dutch word for skimming stones is "plimpplamppletteren"? This delightful book, which draws on the collective wisdom of more than 254 languages, includes not only those words for which there is no direct counterpart in English ("pana po'o" in Hawaiian means to scratch your head in order to remember something important), but also a frank discussion of exactly how many Eskimo words there are for snow and the longest known palindrome in any language ("saippuakivikauppias"--Finland).
And all right, what in fact is "tingo"? In the Pascuense language of Easter Island, it's to take all the objects one desires from the house of a friend, one at a time, by asking to borrow them. Well, of course it is. Enhanced by its ingenious and irresistible little Schott's Miscellany/Eats Shoots and Leaves package and piquant black-and-white illustrations throughout, The Meaning of Tingo is a heady feast for word lovers of all persuasions. Viva Tingo!
Did you know that people in Bolivia have a word that means "I was rather too drunk last night and it's all their fault"? That there's no Italian equivalent for the word "blue"? That the Dutch word for skimming stones is "plimpplamppletteren"? This delightful book, which draws on the collective wisdom of more than 254 languages, includes not only those words for which there is no direct counterpart in English ("pana po'o" in Hawaiian means to scratch your head in order to remember something important), but also a frank discussion of exactly how many Eskimo words there are for snow and the longest known palindrome in any language ("saippuakivikauppias"--Finland).
And all right, what in fact is "tingo"? In the Pascuense language of Easter Island, it's to take all the objects one desires from the house of a friend, one at a time, by asking to borrow them. Well, of course it is. Enhanced by its ingenious and irresistible little Schott's Miscellany/Eats Shoots and Leaves package and piquant black-and-white illustrations throughout, The Meaning of Tingo is a heady feast for word lovers of all persuasions. Viva Tingo!
209 pages, Hardcover
First published December 31, 1999
30 people are currently reading
1066 people want to read
About the author
Adam Jacot de Boinod
10 books8 followersAdam Jacot de Boinod is a British author, notable for his works about unusual words, such as his last name. Usually known as Jacot, he has written three books, the first two looking at words which have no equivalent in the English language, and his third book which reveals unusual words in English.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 99 reviews
February 3, 2009
Another problematic entry in the dictionary sweepstakes. Based on this book (there's a followup volume, "Toujours Tingo", which I haven't read), and the author's own website:
http://themeaningoftingo.blogspot.com/
one is forced to the inexorable conclusion that Monsieur J de B is
* extraordinarily gullible
* incredibly lazy
* a cynic who is onto a good thing and not above milking it for all it's worth
* some disturbingly human combination of the above three.
Personally, I opt for the fourth choice.
"The Meaning of Tingo" purports to be a collection of words in various languages which are essentially untranslatable. As such, they offer a unique view into the way different peoples and cultures look at the world, new insights into "the human condition" and blahdeblahdeblah ...
People love this kind of shit. They lap it up. I'll be the first to admit - I'm a bit of a sucker for it myself. One of the appeals of learning a foreign language is that it does force you to look at the world a bit differently. And, on the surface, it would appear that "The meaning of Tingo" delivers up a rich feast. I mean, who could resist:
razbliuto: 'the sentimental feeling you have about someone you once loved but no longer do' (Russian)
Scheissenbedauern: ‘the disappointment one feels when something turns out not nearly as badly as one had expected’ (German)
seigneur-terrasse: Someone who spends time, but not money, at a café. (French; literally, 'lord of the terrace')
agobilles: a burglar's tools. (German)
The problem is, none of the words above actually exists. Something Monsieur J de B could have presumably found out if he had cracked a dictionary, or consulted even one native French, Russian, or German speaker. That German speaker, or indeed any student of German, could have told him that a 'word' such as 'Scheissenbedauern' could not exist, as it violates the basic rules for constructing compound words in the language. But, no, it appears that whatever minimal research he did was conducted exclusively online. Now there's a recipe for accuracy and attention to detail.
How about:
sucrer les fraises: to die (literally, "to sugar the strawberries"
aardappel: Dutch for "potato" (literally, 'hard apple')
koshatnik: a dealer in stolen cats.
Nope. Nope. And nope again.
"Sucrer les fraises" does exist in French, but it is used to describe a Parkinson-like tremor, not the act of dying. 'Aardappel' means 'earth-apple'. 'Koshatnik', if it means anything at all, might be used to describe a 'cat-lover' or 'cat person', but 'dealer in stolen cats' suggests that someone's leg is being pulled.
And that's the fundamental problem with this superficially appealing book. One Amazon reviewer, a native Russian speaker, identifies 80% of the Russian 'words' as being unrecognizable, garbled, or non-existent. There are similar objections from native Chinese, French, German, and Turkish speakers.
Which leads to my scoring:
Breadth of coverage: 2
Research: 0
Usability: 2
Charm: 0 (because it's not charming to lead your readership down the garden path with ignorance masquerading as fact, no matter how idiosyncratically entertaining)
This book is moderately entertaining rubbish.
Two stars.
November 24, 2011
This text is a review (okay, more like a rant) about The meaning of Tingo, written by Adam Jacot de Boinod. The book is a collection of funny, unique and weird words and phrases from a lot of different languages. It is expected to be a bestseller. If it is, I’m going to be sad, because Boinod misses the point entirely.
Via Metafilter, I stumbled across An article in the Independent, which is essentially a commercial banner for a new book – The meaning of Tingo – to be released later this fall, written by Adam Jacot de Boinod.
The concept of the book is simple: How come only German has a word for ‘a person who leaves without paying the bill’ (Zechpreller) or that Albanians need 27 words for moustache? A compelling new book uncovers the globe’s most weird, wonderful – and meaningful – words. John Walsh picks his favourites
Immediately, I call bullshit and lose interest. And I fear that the book will become a bestseller, and a load of two-bit idiots will start using these random words, in their quasi-interested glee.
The 30 words for snow
The mentioned Independent article refers to the 30+ Inuit words for snow, which is incorrect. In fact, there are no more words for snow in the inuit language than in English. In fact, the same could be claimed about Norway: Norwegian doesn’t have more words meaning snow, but the Norwegian language does have a set of words that are only used about Snow. Such as Kram snø (snow which is sticky, excellent for making snow-balls and snowmen), Slaps (wet, nearly molten snow), Hålke (snow that is compacted into ice – especially on the road), Skare (snow that has a hard layer on top, usually strong enough to walk on top, with loose snow underneath), Hardang (really thick Skare), Skavl (a snow pile with a sharp end – shaped by the wind) and Fonn (a word meaning “a pile”, only used about snow). And of course, we have “kryne”, which is the act of dunking somebodys face in snow.
In addition, there are dozens of compound words, such as Puddersnø (powder snow – light flurry snow), Fauke (loose, flurry snow), Valleslett (snow on the border between snow and rain), Sludd (wet snow), drivsnø (snow that keeps flying about without landing, usually light, but with a lot of wind), Eitersnø (small, hard snowflakes – sharp hail, if you will), Dape (weather that changes between snow and rain), Iming (small, dry snowflakes, usually when it’s really cold), Snøgauv (lots of snow falling at the same time), Snøstorm (blizzard), Haglbrist (a snowfall interrupted by a hailfall, then snow again), Snøfonn (a pile of snow), Snødrott (awaiting a snowfall), Nysnå (new snow), Fjorårssnø (last years’ snow), Snøhim (a very thin layer of snow), Kunstsnø (artificial snow) and Lavsnø (snow that used to be piled on trees).
And trust me, there are tons of others. My point? Well, I don’t doubt that the inuit population has a lot of words for snow, but I managed to trussle up a good few dozen in Norwegian, too. But that goes for any language that has a strong affinity to anything. The English have a lot of words for rain, the Dutch will have a lot of words relating to the ocean and biking, Australians have a lot of words for waves, and I would imagine hot countries have a lot of words for the sun, humidity, and warmth.
So why is this book pointless?
I have no opinion as to how correct or incorrect the words are in this book, but they span an incredible number of languages, which the writer of the book is unlikely to command very well. Or, indeed, at all.
So how did this guy find all these words? Well, according to the article, the writer spent time “looking for foreign dictionaries and the tiny revelations contained therein”. Which seems strangely pointless – sure, you are going to find a hell of a lot of words that are weird like that, but does it really say a lot about a culture? Does the fact that English has a word for throwing someone out of a window (defenestration) mean that we have a lot of windows, and that we love to throw people out of it? I think not.
Of course, if the book is correct, it would be great, because I imagine it would be a lot of fun to read. But based on the languages I speak myself, I can’t help but wonder. For Danish, the article uses the word “fyrassistent”, saying it is a word meaning “an assistant lighthouse keeper.”. It boggles the mind – well, yeah, that’s what it means, but the word isn’t invented just like that – it’s a compound word. So runkassistent is “an assistant masturbator”, a husbyggerassistent is “an assistent house builder” and statsbilmotorsykkelsertifikatutstedelsessekretærassistent is a perfectly gramatically correct word meaning “the assistant to a government secretary who deals with the issuing of driving licenses for cars and motorcycles”. Funny? Sure. But accurate? Well, sure, but I just made that word up.
It makes me wonder how many other of the words in that book – whilst funny – are utterly pointless.
The russians have a word for someone with six fingers? Great. Try “seksfingret” in Norwegian. The Japanese have a word for “A girl who looks as though she might be pretty when seen from behind, but isn’t when seen from the front.” – well, so do the brits. Bobfoc is sneaking into the vocabulary. Of course, it’s an abbreviation (Body of Baywatch, Face of Crimewatch), but how long until “Bobfoc” hits mainstream? How about “a paperbagger”? It is someone who is so ugly you’d only have sex with them with a paper bag over their head. The list goes on. The russians have a word for “a dealer in stolen cats”? Great. So do the Norwegians (“Katteheler”) and the Dutch (“Kattenheler”).
My point is: I don’t doubt that this book will make a funny read, but even from that short article, it seems as if the writer has missed the point of language altogether: Making assumptions about cultures based on the words in a language seems ludicrous. Especially with languages that use compound words, you can make some truly surreal words. Hey, let’s make one how. How about a word for a female who inspects the way guys take a leak with their left hand? “venstrehåndsurinasjonsinspektrise”. But even if that word would ever shows up in the language (wait a couple of days, and it’ll show up on my webpage when you search for venstrehåndsurinasjonsinspektrise in Google, it doesn’t mean anything.
In fact, I think I would like to suggest a new word. Boindiot. It means “someone who out of context quotes random words from languages they don’t know”. Let’s see if that flies.
Via Metafilter, I stumbled across An article in the Independent, which is essentially a commercial banner for a new book – The meaning of Tingo – to be released later this fall, written by Adam Jacot de Boinod.
The concept of the book is simple: How come only German has a word for ‘a person who leaves without paying the bill’ (Zechpreller) or that Albanians need 27 words for moustache? A compelling new book uncovers the globe’s most weird, wonderful – and meaningful – words. John Walsh picks his favourites
Immediately, I call bullshit and lose interest. And I fear that the book will become a bestseller, and a load of two-bit idiots will start using these random words, in their quasi-interested glee.
The 30 words for snow
The mentioned Independent article refers to the 30+ Inuit words for snow, which is incorrect. In fact, there are no more words for snow in the inuit language than in English. In fact, the same could be claimed about Norway: Norwegian doesn’t have more words meaning snow, but the Norwegian language does have a set of words that are only used about Snow. Such as Kram snø (snow which is sticky, excellent for making snow-balls and snowmen), Slaps (wet, nearly molten snow), Hålke (snow that is compacted into ice – especially on the road), Skare (snow that has a hard layer on top, usually strong enough to walk on top, with loose snow underneath), Hardang (really thick Skare), Skavl (a snow pile with a sharp end – shaped by the wind) and Fonn (a word meaning “a pile”, only used about snow). And of course, we have “kryne”, which is the act of dunking somebodys face in snow.
In addition, there are dozens of compound words, such as Puddersnø (powder snow – light flurry snow), Fauke (loose, flurry snow), Valleslett (snow on the border between snow and rain), Sludd (wet snow), drivsnø (snow that keeps flying about without landing, usually light, but with a lot of wind), Eitersnø (small, hard snowflakes – sharp hail, if you will), Dape (weather that changes between snow and rain), Iming (small, dry snowflakes, usually when it’s really cold), Snøgauv (lots of snow falling at the same time), Snøstorm (blizzard), Haglbrist (a snowfall interrupted by a hailfall, then snow again), Snøfonn (a pile of snow), Snødrott (awaiting a snowfall), Nysnå (new snow), Fjorårssnø (last years’ snow), Snøhim (a very thin layer of snow), Kunstsnø (artificial snow) and Lavsnø (snow that used to be piled on trees).
And trust me, there are tons of others. My point? Well, I don’t doubt that the inuit population has a lot of words for snow, but I managed to trussle up a good few dozen in Norwegian, too. But that goes for any language that has a strong affinity to anything. The English have a lot of words for rain, the Dutch will have a lot of words relating to the ocean and biking, Australians have a lot of words for waves, and I would imagine hot countries have a lot of words for the sun, humidity, and warmth.
So why is this book pointless?
I have no opinion as to how correct or incorrect the words are in this book, but they span an incredible number of languages, which the writer of the book is unlikely to command very well. Or, indeed, at all.
So how did this guy find all these words? Well, according to the article, the writer spent time “looking for foreign dictionaries and the tiny revelations contained therein”. Which seems strangely pointless – sure, you are going to find a hell of a lot of words that are weird like that, but does it really say a lot about a culture? Does the fact that English has a word for throwing someone out of a window (defenestration) mean that we have a lot of windows, and that we love to throw people out of it? I think not.
Of course, if the book is correct, it would be great, because I imagine it would be a lot of fun to read. But based on the languages I speak myself, I can’t help but wonder. For Danish, the article uses the word “fyrassistent”, saying it is a word meaning “an assistant lighthouse keeper.”. It boggles the mind – well, yeah, that’s what it means, but the word isn’t invented just like that – it’s a compound word. So runkassistent is “an assistant masturbator”, a husbyggerassistent is “an assistent house builder” and statsbilmotorsykkelsertifikatutstedelsessekretærassistent is a perfectly gramatically correct word meaning “the assistant to a government secretary who deals with the issuing of driving licenses for cars and motorcycles”. Funny? Sure. But accurate? Well, sure, but I just made that word up.
It makes me wonder how many other of the words in that book – whilst funny – are utterly pointless.
The russians have a word for someone with six fingers? Great. Try “seksfingret” in Norwegian. The Japanese have a word for “A girl who looks as though she might be pretty when seen from behind, but isn’t when seen from the front.” – well, so do the brits. Bobfoc is sneaking into the vocabulary. Of course, it’s an abbreviation (Body of Baywatch, Face of Crimewatch), but how long until “Bobfoc” hits mainstream? How about “a paperbagger”? It is someone who is so ugly you’d only have sex with them with a paper bag over their head. The list goes on. The russians have a word for “a dealer in stolen cats”? Great. So do the Norwegians (“Katteheler”) and the Dutch (“Kattenheler”).
My point is: I don’t doubt that this book will make a funny read, but even from that short article, it seems as if the writer has missed the point of language altogether: Making assumptions about cultures based on the words in a language seems ludicrous. Especially with languages that use compound words, you can make some truly surreal words. Hey, let’s make one how. How about a word for a female who inspects the way guys take a leak with their left hand? “venstrehåndsurinasjonsinspektrise”. But even if that word would ever shows up in the language (wait a couple of days, and it’ll show up on my webpage when you search for venstrehåndsurinasjonsinspektrise in Google, it doesn’t mean anything.
In fact, I think I would like to suggest a new word. Boindiot. It means “someone who out of context quotes random words from languages they don’t know”. Let’s see if that flies.
November 20, 2022
The book, structured in an ironic key but very accurate and precise, allows you to satisfy the curiosity of all those who, for pleasure or work, are interested in foreign languages. Highly recommended!
June 10, 2010
A delightful book for people interested in language and trivia. I found myself copying down words and phrases to incorporate into my vocabulary, including the Persian sanud, "the exercise of the mind upon an unprofitable subject"; the Japanese phrase suna o kamu yo na, "like chewing sand"; and the Indonesian desus, "a quiet and smooth sound as someone farting but not very loudly." I was kind of disappointed that there was no scatological section however; I know Pennsylvania Dutch (the language of the Amish) has a fine word meaning "globules of poop that get caught in your pubic hair."
January 27, 2008
If you love languages, or just words in general, as I do, this book is delightfully fun. The author has collected words and phrases and colloquialisms from all over the world, many in languages you've never even heard of. Some of the local expressions are pretty hilarious.
December 29, 2021
Some of the more enjoyable words from in here include, the Inuit word, Iktsuarpok: to go outside often to see if someone is coming, Backpfeifengesicht: a face that cries out for a fist in it. Age otori: a Japanese word to look worse after a haircut. Then there’s the word Tingo itself, a term which originates from Easter Island, and means to borrow items one by one from someone until they have nothing left.
This certainly has its charms, but considering this was done by someone who worked as a researcher for QI (a show which delights in myth busting and calling others out with inaccuracies etc) this has its fair share of inaccuracies and mythology. For a start the editing is not good enough, with unnecessary repetition of many words and their meanings and still calling Zaire a country, even in 2005 (when this was published) is also a bit silly, especially when he also repeatedly refers to the Congo as well. So does he mean Dem Rep of Congo or Rep of Congo?...
Anyone who knows much about language will probably already know that PNG has over 850 languages, more than any other country in the world, but did you know that Indonesia has around 670, and that more than half of the world’s spoken languages come from just nine countries, the others being, Nigeria 410, India 380, Cameroon 270, Australia 250, Mexico 240, Zaire (I think he might mean DRC?) 210 and Brazil 210.
He mentions a large list of false friends (a pair of words in different languages that look or sound similar). Clearly a lot of these words are not the only language who have words to describe what they do. I mean he paid very little attention to the Scots language (not Gaelic) which has many words and phrases which don’t really have an exact English equivalent, though they may well have one elsewhere?...I haven't researched for a book on it. But overall although not a great read or factually flawless, this is really only supposed to be a bit of fun, and I’d say it largely succeeds at that.
January 13, 2015
before writing this review I checked what other people think about the book and I have to admit that I did not take the book nearly as seriously as some other readers.
It is a list of words from many languages with their English translations. Yes it has some errors, some misprints and some errors in transcription (hey, how do you actually spell an Arab, or Chinese or Russian word if you do not use their letters as well?). I found that words in languages that I use are more or less correct so I trust that the words from other languages are similarly correct.
But even if they are not - what is the problem? I think that the book mainly shows the richness of world cultures and their diversity and sometimes peculiarity. It is not intended (I hope) to be a perfect guide for world traveler or the introduction to the cultures of the world. It is book that you take and after couple of pages you say something like "hey do you know that in Bali they have special word for ..."
So, if you need something that will be an interesting read for couple of pages which you can restart reading, or start from the middle and then do not touch for weeks without being afraid that you will forget what it was all about - here is a book that fits the requirements...
==========
The Japanese have the most vivid description for hangers-on: kingyo no funi. It literally means ‘goldfish crap’ – a reference to the way that a fish that has defecated often trails excrement behind it for some time.
==========
mukamuka (Japanese) feeling so angry one feels like throwing up
It is a list of words from many languages with their English translations. Yes it has some errors, some misprints and some errors in transcription (hey, how do you actually spell an Arab, or Chinese or Russian word if you do not use their letters as well?). I found that words in languages that I use are more or less correct so I trust that the words from other languages are similarly correct.
But even if they are not - what is the problem? I think that the book mainly shows the richness of world cultures and their diversity and sometimes peculiarity. It is not intended (I hope) to be a perfect guide for world traveler or the introduction to the cultures of the world. It is book that you take and after couple of pages you say something like "hey do you know that in Bali they have special word for ..."
So, if you need something that will be an interesting read for couple of pages which you can restart reading, or start from the middle and then do not touch for weeks without being afraid that you will forget what it was all about - here is a book that fits the requirements...
==========
The Japanese have the most vivid description for hangers-on: kingyo no funi. It literally means ‘goldfish crap’ – a reference to the way that a fish that has defecated often trails excrement behind it for some time.
==========
mukamuka (Japanese) feeling so angry one feels like throwing up
January 26, 2013
This book had such potential to be at least a 4-star reference book but fell quite short by providing no guide to pronunciation. This is a collection of words from around the globe that have either no direct translation into English, or may mean one thing in English but something completely different in another language. The book is broken down nicely into categories and each chapter is full of words that have very bizarre translations. Too bad the author didn't take the time to provide the key to pronunciation so that this reference book could be a one-stop place to learn meanings and how to use them verbally. There is a very interesting chapter at the end that covers all the barnyard animals and the sounds they make as conveyed in different languages. There are also some great cultural lessons, such as why certain numbers are considered unlucky. My favorite and most useful aspect of the book was the section at the end of each chapter called "false friends" or words in English that mean something completely different in another language.
July 16, 2014
Oy, the joys of the untranslatable translated! Or perhaps it isn't words so much that are beyond explanation, but the concepts and culture they encoil. Without words, we haven't got the receptacles for concepts. A word is to an idea as a body is to a soul -- one can have a soul without a body, but usually that's considered dead. At least in this world.
This books is a brilliant embodying of as-yet-intangibles. Perhaps the opposite of 1984's bludgeoning language to break minds, books like this break new paths in the brain by assembling the ideas of other worlds and peoples, incarnating them through the a written and read page.
This books is a brilliant embodying of as-yet-intangibles. Perhaps the opposite of 1984's bludgeoning language to break minds, books like this break new paths in the brain by assembling the ideas of other worlds and peoples, incarnating them through the a written and read page.
December 5, 2007
Although this book can be very amusing and shows that not all the world's languages work like English, concerning the lexicon, many of the examples and supposedly funny words are badly researched. Not only many of the German words inside are wrong (not only in spelling, most often they simply do not exist or are artificial compounds). Same goes for many other languages I did a quick check on.
At least I can guarantee that the meaning of "Tingo" (or rather 'tiŋo' is correct.
At least I can guarantee that the meaning of "Tingo" (or rather 'tiŋo' is correct.
June 11, 2011
I love this type of book, although you probably will not read it from cover-to-cover. It is more like a dictionary where related words from different languages are grouped by some concept.
You can find all sorts of colorful words.
- Bakku-shan: A woman who appears pretty when seen from behind but not from the front.
- Sekaseka: To laugh without reason
The words may not make it into everyday language, but they are a great way to send a discrete message to the curious.
You can find all sorts of colorful words.
- Bakku-shan: A woman who appears pretty when seen from behind but not from the front.
- Sekaseka: To laugh without reason
The words may not make it into everyday language, but they are a great way to send a discrete message to the curious.
February 6, 2015
You’ve heard of words in other languages that supposedly can’t be translated, or words that we don’t have a word for? This book has lots of those. I don’t know if the Bassa language in Liberia really only has words for two colors (“ziza” for red/orange/yellow and “hui” for green/blue/purple), or if the Japanese actually say “harawata o tatsu” (“to sever one’s intestines”) to mean “break one’s heart,” but this book is pretty entertaining.
September 5, 2007
It was pretty much as advertised, a look at words & phrases in other languages that either don't exist or aren't as succinct in English. I would have liked to have seen some more literal translations of interesting phrases & apparently the research is a bit dodgy (the Internet should not be one's main source), but a fun little reference book nonetheless.
July 31, 2012
Unreadable. Such a good idea; so poorly executed. The book is a series of meaningless, randomly ordered lists. C'est la vie, cela écrit. You can often invent the most fabulous idea only to fail later, in research, in boldness, in the poetry of your prose. I commend the originary thought, at least.
October 26, 2017
Tiene palabras buenas, pero básicamente es leer un diccionario.
February 19, 2015
I have another book similar to this called The Meaning of Liff, which is much funnier than this book simply because it's meant to be funny.
For example:
"Polloch(n) - one of those tiny ribbed-plastic and aluminium foil tubs of milk served on trains enabling you to carry one safely back to your compartment where you can spill the contents all over your legs in comfort trying to get the bloody thing open."
I mean, who hasn't done that!? Genius!
If this book was aimed at being funny it would be much more entertaining. As it is, the words are incomprehensible (apart from the French and German ones - and only because I took these subjects at school) and so you have no real chance to memorise them to impress your friends with your command of... inanity.
My favourite way of reading the book was to forget about the words (in fact, I didn't bother reading most of them) and concentrate instead on the meanings. In this way, I could use each little phrase/meaning as a momentary meditation where I tried to imagine myself into the scenarios and scenery being described.
I therefore particularly enjoyed the words that dealt with happiness and sunshine, and not so much the ones about death and horror.
Plus - I think the author has been duped by internet descriptions of some of the words. For example, the meaning of 'Tingo' as expressed in the book is something like 'gradually stealing the contents of someone's house by borrowing them and not bringing them back'. I found this definition on a site called 'Urban Dictionary' dated 2009. I can just imagine someone making this up and posting it on this site for the author of this book to find and base a whole book on. Either that or he posted it himself.
Either way, it's me as a reader that's ending up as the fool.
The other mention I found of 'Tingo' is that it is a Latin word that means 'saturate/soak' or 'tinge' as in when you soak something in a dye to give it a tinge of purple (for example).
Still - the mental picture of people emptying other people's houses by borrowing stuff is mildly amusing - so long as it's not me they're borrowing from.
For example:
"Polloch(n) - one of those tiny ribbed-plastic and aluminium foil tubs of milk served on trains enabling you to carry one safely back to your compartment where you can spill the contents all over your legs in comfort trying to get the bloody thing open."
I mean, who hasn't done that!? Genius!
If this book was aimed at being funny it would be much more entertaining. As it is, the words are incomprehensible (apart from the French and German ones - and only because I took these subjects at school) and so you have no real chance to memorise them to impress your friends with your command of... inanity.
My favourite way of reading the book was to forget about the words (in fact, I didn't bother reading most of them) and concentrate instead on the meanings. In this way, I could use each little phrase/meaning as a momentary meditation where I tried to imagine myself into the scenarios and scenery being described.
I therefore particularly enjoyed the words that dealt with happiness and sunshine, and not so much the ones about death and horror.
Plus - I think the author has been duped by internet descriptions of some of the words. For example, the meaning of 'Tingo' as expressed in the book is something like 'gradually stealing the contents of someone's house by borrowing them and not bringing them back'. I found this definition on a site called 'Urban Dictionary' dated 2009. I can just imagine someone making this up and posting it on this site for the author of this book to find and base a whole book on. Either that or he posted it himself.
Either way, it's me as a reader that's ending up as the fool.
The other mention I found of 'Tingo' is that it is a Latin word that means 'saturate/soak' or 'tinge' as in when you soak something in a dye to give it a tinge of purple (for example).
Still - the mental picture of people emptying other people's houses by borrowing stuff is mildly amusing - so long as it's not me they're borrowing from.
Read
October 21, 2007http://nwhyte.livejournal.com/1334256.html[return][return]The author is a researcher for the Stephen Fry quiz show QI, and the book basically reads like an extended set of QI rounds about funny words in foreign languages, all mildly amusing. I spotted one spelling error - the excellent Serbian word inat is given as iant - and there may be others, but I will not be consumed by vengeful spite over it; also I imagine there is room for interpretation of some of the definitions, such as the 10 Albanian ways of describing a moustache, which to be do not seem very different from the ways we describe different moustaches in English.[return][return]Going back to spelling, I was a bit dubious of the example given of a word with five consecutive consonants - cmrlj which is Slovenian for bumble-bee - first off, 'lj' is a single letter in Slovenian and second I think the 'r' is basically functioning as a vowel there. (If you are trying to say it to yourself, remember that 'c' is pronounced 'ts'.) However there is no doubting the authenticity of the Dutch word with eight consecutive consonants, angstschreeuw - linguists may cry out in fear and horror that 'ch' is a single phoneme, but it is spelt with two letters. (Again, if you are trying to say that to yourself, remember that 's' and 'ch' are pronounced distinctly in Dutch, unlike in German.)[return][return]Like the TV programme it is based on, the book is a little too pleased with its own cleverness, but fun all the same.
September 22, 2009
I hesitate to put this in the "read" category, because I didn't read the entire book. On the other hand, it's basically a dictionary, so it's a bit hard to read the entire thing.
But what a dictionary! Very entertaining words from around the world that take an entire English sentence to explain. Some are amusing, some may tell you what matters to another culture, and some will make you think, "I wish we had that in my own language." I think my favorite is "neko-neko", translated from Indonesian as something like "a person who comes up with a creative idea that just makes things worse."
Now there's a word I could use again and again.
The words are grouped into categories for each chapter (covering areas like eating, bodies, greetings, etc.). Within that they're grouped by the author's wittiness and sometimes by slight stretches.
I think my favorite sections were the sidebars called "False Friends", which are words that seem to be the same in different languages, but have very different meanings. Sometimes those are truly hilarious, and must make for some embarrassing misunderstandings.
I borrowed the book from the library, which is probably a mistake with this book. I think the book is better for occasional nibbles here and there, rather than trying to eat through the whole thing in order.
But what a dictionary! Very entertaining words from around the world that take an entire English sentence to explain. Some are amusing, some may tell you what matters to another culture, and some will make you think, "I wish we had that in my own language." I think my favorite is "neko-neko", translated from Indonesian as something like "a person who comes up with a creative idea that just makes things worse."
Now there's a word I could use again and again.
The words are grouped into categories for each chapter (covering areas like eating, bodies, greetings, etc.). Within that they're grouped by the author's wittiness and sometimes by slight stretches.
I think my favorite sections were the sidebars called "False Friends", which are words that seem to be the same in different languages, but have very different meanings. Sometimes those are truly hilarious, and must make for some embarrassing misunderstandings.
I borrowed the book from the library, which is probably a mistake with this book. I think the book is better for occasional nibbles here and there, rather than trying to eat through the whole thing in order.
November 15, 2010
Questo libricino è geniale! Parola di kudpalu (ovvero donna coi capelli spettinati), è un piccolo vocabolarietto di parole da tutto il mondo letteralmente intraducibili se non con strane perifrasi, insomma parole che non trovano un'unica parola corrispondente in inglese (ma anche in italiano).
Alcune, così, prese qua e là:
mahj: l'essere belli dopo essere stati ammalati
koro: la paura che il proprio pene si restringa nel proprio corpo
rujuk: sposare di nuovo la donna da cui si è già divorziato
farik: la donna che odia suo marito
baulero: il marito che non può uscire da solo
grillagem: la vecchia pratica di mettere un grillo in una scatola di nuovi documenti falsi, in modo che gli escrementi del grillo, muovendosi, li rendano plausibilmente vecchi e genuini
tunillattukkuq: il mangiare in un cimitero
Si segnalano le espressioni italiane sòla, bustarella, andare in camporella, padella (intesa come macchia d'unto), piottaro, palo (ovvero il complice), slappare, andare in bianco, essere al verde...
Consigliato a chi mastica un po' l'inglese e a chi è curioso, perchè è un libro che decisamente apre gli orizzonti.
Alcune, così, prese qua e là:
mahj: l'essere belli dopo essere stati ammalati
koro: la paura che il proprio pene si restringa nel proprio corpo
rujuk: sposare di nuovo la donna da cui si è già divorziato
farik: la donna che odia suo marito
baulero: il marito che non può uscire da solo
grillagem: la vecchia pratica di mettere un grillo in una scatola di nuovi documenti falsi, in modo che gli escrementi del grillo, muovendosi, li rendano plausibilmente vecchi e genuini
tunillattukkuq: il mangiare in un cimitero
Si segnalano le espressioni italiane sòla, bustarella, andare in camporella, padella (intesa come macchia d'unto), piottaro, palo (ovvero il complice), slappare, andare in bianco, essere al verde...
Consigliato a chi mastica un po' l'inglese e a chi è curioso, perchè è un libro che decisamente apre gli orizzonti.
April 9, 2012
Really just a dictionary of cool words from other languages...he goes on about how specific some of those terms are, but when I think of specific fields of study like biology or anatomy I'm pretty sure there are specific words for just those things he's describing, like the part of your body that is the back of the knee - in English, it's "popliteal fossa" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poplitea..., in the book there's a refence to this as "jahja" (in Wagiman, Australia) or "waal" (in Afrikaans).
Anyway, I think the concept is great, but could have been taken a lot further than just a glossary of world languages. An expansion on to the culture that uses that language and WHY they have these crazy words or sayings for example.
The best part of the book, that induced me to actually LAUGH OUT LOUD, was this inventive curse: "zolst farliren aleh tseyner achitz eynm, un dos zol dir vey ton (Yiddish)" means 'may you lose all your teeth but one and may that one ache'. Now that's got some thought put into how you may make someone suffer!
Anyway, I think the concept is great, but could have been taken a lot further than just a glossary of world languages. An expansion on to the culture that uses that language and WHY they have these crazy words or sayings for example.
The best part of the book, that induced me to actually LAUGH OUT LOUD, was this inventive curse: "zolst farliren aleh tseyner achitz eynm, un dos zol dir vey ton (Yiddish)" means 'may you lose all your teeth but one and may that one ache'. Now that's got some thought put into how you may make someone suffer!
October 19, 2011
It's not so much the words (which as many reviewers have pointed out, are often used out of context) as much as the idea that a certain sentiment/idea/situation happens often enough in a certain culture for it to merit an actual word. It's like The Meaning of Liff, only real. Better check with a native speaker first, however, before throwing any of these around.
I love how certain Filipino words made it here: "magandang hinaharap" (meaning both "a bright future" and "big breasts"), "dangkal" (a handspan) and "layogenic". But where are "gigil" and "kulit"?
Small quibble: The Chinese could have been written in pinyin, to make it easier for me to have the words verified.
More like this online. The good stuff is in the comments section.
I love how certain Filipino words made it here: "magandang hinaharap" (meaning both "a bright future" and "big breasts"), "dangkal" (a handspan) and "layogenic". But where are "gigil" and "kulit"?
Small quibble: The Chinese could have been written in pinyin, to make it easier for me to have the words verified.
More like this online. The good stuff is in the comments section.
January 9, 2012
A really lovely and interesting book on words in other languages that have no English equivalent. For example: tingo means to slowly steal thing from your friend's house by borrowing each item one by one. The book also had some really nice tidbits about other languages in it, like the longest word, shortest word, etc.
My few minor complaints is that while it was organized really nicely, it ended kind of abruptly. The first chapter was related to "hello" and I kind of expected the last chapter to be "good bye." Maybe it was just a missed opportunity. Also, there were a few words that were repeated from chapter to chapter. In such a small book there really should be that kind of padding.
And now, my favorite words from The Meaning of Tingo:
Bettschwere (German) - without the energy to get out of bed
Sortes (Latin) - the seeking of guidance by the chance selection of a passage in a book
Koshatnik (Russian) - a dealer in stolen cats
My few minor complaints is that while it was organized really nicely, it ended kind of abruptly. The first chapter was related to "hello" and I kind of expected the last chapter to be "good bye." Maybe it was just a missed opportunity. Also, there were a few words that were repeated from chapter to chapter. In such a small book there really should be that kind of padding.
And now, my favorite words from The Meaning of Tingo:
Bettschwere (German) - without the energy to get out of bed
Sortes (Latin) - the seeking of guidance by the chance selection of a passage in a book
Koshatnik (Russian) - a dealer in stolen cats
May 5, 2015
Divino este libro, reúne muchas de esas palabras sin traducción al castellano u otro idioma que tanto les rompe la cabeza a los traductores. Las palabras o frases están bien categorizadas y en un orden llevadero. Hubo muchas palabras graciosas que significaban cosas de lo más inesperadas. En un par de ocasiones hasta aparecen palabras del lunfardo argentino, pero lástima que "ortiva" está mal definido, o al menos es un uso que ya no le damos (decía "lameculos del jefe" aka chupamedias, y ese claramente no es el significado de ortiva). La que más me quedó, aunque sea bastante simple, es la palabra "fred" que tanto en sueco, noruego y danés significa "paz". Me llamó la atención por ser escandinava y porque me recordó a Fred Weasley (?) En fin, un libro muy interesante y excelente para curiosos de las lenguas.
July 1, 2016
Well,
somewhat interesting but not interesting enough. The Writing was lighthearted and tried to be quirky but was sometimes messy and not describing enough (world's most famous sport - but the author didn't explain what the sport was Before describing Words for that particular sport. If I didn't know what sport it was already that section would have been pointless.)
The charts didn't translate well on the Kindle so I missed sections of the book.
Minus Points for only Writing about Words about the penis but not the vagina.
EDIT: Also, Swedish Words are misspelled. In one section the author lists English names and points out when it means something in another language. Author claims that Mimi means I/me in Swedish. Well, I've never come across using Mimi in that way in Sweden.
somewhat interesting but not interesting enough. The Writing was lighthearted and tried to be quirky but was sometimes messy and not describing enough (world's most famous sport - but the author didn't explain what the sport was Before describing Words for that particular sport. If I didn't know what sport it was already that section would have been pointless.)
The charts didn't translate well on the Kindle so I missed sections of the book.
Minus Points for only Writing about Words about the penis but not the vagina.
EDIT: Also, Swedish Words are misspelled. In one section the author lists English names and points out when it means something in another language. Author claims that Mimi means I/me in Swedish. Well, I've never come across using Mimi in that way in Sweden.
November 15, 2015
Any language capable of expressing things in a succinct or convoluted manner (so practically any language), can be translated literally or otherwise in a puzzling or side-splitting way that would turn any arbitrary collection of words and expressions into comedy. Any book that plays the erudite comedian game made popular by QI will be judged by its accuracy, which in this case doesn't seem impressive. There are enough examples that leave bilingual readers unamused and baffled by mistranslations and misinterpretations. Most interesting parts: those on word / concept invention, e.g. Paparazzo and Torschlusspanik (both from films).
August 15, 2011
Interesting book with some funny entries, but I was unable to read it from cover to cover. Many of the words seem unpronounceable to me, and there are no guides on how to say any of the foreign words. Also, I found a few instances where the author might have mentioned an odd English equivalent to a particular phrase but didn't. It made me question just how well he studied his own language before rushing off to praise the oddities of others. For what it's worth, FORMICATION is the imagined sensation of skin crawling with insects.
December 29, 2016
Al principio me encantaba, y después leí una reseña diciendo que tenía muchos errores... comencé a prestar atención y con cosas en inglés, español, italiano y francés, que son los que sé/entiendo, había cosas que... meh. Lo mismo con el coreano, que es el idioma que estudio. Habían un par de cosas que ¿¿??, o la mala romanización de las cosas... mmm. No sé.
Eso, y que desde mi perspectiva hubieron pocos idiomas (en realidad hubieron muchos, pero eran siempre los mismos de las mismas partes del mundo), fue lo que le sacó las dos estrellitas. "I liked it" y a la bolsa.
Eso, y que desde mi perspectiva hubieron pocos idiomas (en realidad hubieron muchos, pero eran siempre los mismos de las mismas partes del mundo), fue lo que le sacó las dos estrellitas. "I liked it" y a la bolsa.
April 8, 2008
I've long been fascinated by words that other languages have that we don't have in English. Sometimes the word is a concept that you only vaguely felt before, but never really expressed. It makes you wonder how much of what you think it determined by what you have words for. At the end of the day though, this book is really just a list of words and their definitions, so reading it straight through gets kind of tedious after a while.
August 28, 2015
Mixed feelings about this book. There are some really awesome, why don't we have a word for that, words in here. There are also a bunch of pretty meh ones. Also, as other reviewers have mentioned, many of whom have much more experience in the languages Boinod draws from than I have, I'm kind of iffy about where exactly Boinod was pulling some of his words from and how real some of them actually are.
February 2, 2015
A fascinating book, but after 'In Other Words' it feels under-researched and a lot more sensational. These are not words you can trust and go out and say to a native speaker - at times the spelling is simplified for English speakers. The organisation is a lot less easy to follow than in the other book, too. It feels messy and cramped at times. Nevertheless, it is full of interesting tidbits like a word for the position of lying down leaning on one arm.
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