by Chloe Rhodes
Well, that’s something, Toby. Cogito, ergo sum—take comfort from that.
Cognoscenti
those who know (Italian)
This word arrived in Italian from the Latin “conoscere,” which means to “know.” The spelling we have taken on is now in fact obsolete in Italy, where “conoscenti ” has taken its place. In English the word is usually used to describe people who are experts in the fields of art, literature, or fashion, indicating a certain refinement in taste and judgment. It is also used more colloquially to describe those who are “in the know” on any subject; a member of the cocktail cognoscenti could guide one to the perfect Manhattan, while the techno cognoscenti would lead you to the best computer.
You couldn’t find leopard-print leggings that year for love or money. The fashion cognoscenti had bought up every last pair.
Compos mentis
a composed mind (Latin)
This Latin phrase has survived through both medical and legal use. In neurological terms it means “sane” or “mentally healthy,” and in law it indicates that someone is of sound enough mind to stand trial. The term’s opposite—“non compos mentis,” meaning “not of sound mind,” is just as frequently used in modern English to argue that a person should not be held legally responsible for his actions. This has extended in everyday use to mean anyone who through tiredness or heavy drinking isn’t quite “with it.”
You’d better get Gavin a cab home, Lou. I don’t think he’s fully compos mentis.
Confetti
sweets (Italian)
The term is the plural of “confetto” meaning “candy,” but the term is exclusively used in Italy for sugared almonds, which are eaten at weddings, baptisms, and first communions. The British and American tradition of throwing confetti at weddings is related to the very old tradition of throwing rice, dates, or nuts that may reach back beyond ancient Rome or Egypt. It brings good luck and represents fertility and abundance. In Italy the earliest form of confetti may have consisted of sugar-coated nuts and similar confections. In modern-day, eco-sensitive times, flower petals are often preferred by licensed wedding venues, but the sentiment and significance remain unchanged.
It wasn’t nerves or emotions that made Stanley feel choked up; he’d just inhaled three mouthfuls of confetti.
Connoisseur
expert (French)
Most members of the cognoscenti (see page 44) could be referred to as connoisseurs. The word comes from “connaître,” which means “to be acquainted with,” and is used to describe a person who has a specialized knowledge of a subject or thing. True connoisseurs are found mainly in the art world—collectors, curators, or art critics. In the eighteenth century the word was used to describe any person of taste, and nowadays it also applies to knowledgeable devotees of everything from real ale to contemporary Dutch sculpture.
The waiter left Mr. McNair to pore over the menu of single malts at his leisure—the gentleman’s florid complexion marked him out as something of a whisky connoisseur.
Contretemps
against the time (French)
In the seventeenth century a “contretemps” was a mistimed or inopportune thrust in a fencing bout. This meaning extended in English use by around 1770 to cover any jarring mishap that was out of pace with social mores. We still use the term to describe an unexpected interruption in normal proceedings, but since the mid-twentieth century, it has been used more widely to mean an embarrassing set-to or minor skirmish.
Hugh felt edgy as he arrived at the restaurant. The parking ticket was stuffed uncomfortably into his back pocket, and he couldn’t get his contretemps with the traffic cop out of his head.
Cordon bleu
blue ribbon (French)
The blue ribbon was awarded by the sixteenth-century Bourbon kings to knights of the highest order. The term was incorporated into English in the 1720s for noblemen, and the phrase has since become an accolade for top-quality cooking. An 1827 cookbook called Le Cordon bleu ou nouvelle cuisinière bourgeoise was the first to use the phrase in this context, and when a branch of Le Cordon Bleu school was founded in London in 1933, the phrase became part of the English culinary dictionary, synonymous with high-class cuisine.
Peter stood back and admired his creation. It wasn’t exactly cordon bleu, but it didn’t look too bad now that he had sliced off the burned pieces.
Coup de grâce
blow of mercy (French)
This is a final death blow that ends the suffering of someone who is wounded. On the battlefield it referred specifically to a bullet shot to the heart or head. These days we also use it to describe the final stroke of misfortune that results in the demise of a business or relationship, but in our attempt at an authentic French accent, we often mispronounce it. By leaving out the final “s” sound, it sounds as if we’re saying “cou de gras” or “neck of fat,” which doesn’t have quite the same pathos.
The relationship had been on the rocks for a while, but Leo’s decision to watch football on Valentine’s Day was the coup de grâce.
Crime passionnel
crime of passion (French)
Until the 1970s French juries were allowed to take into account the circumstances surrounding a murder. If someone had killed for love or out of jealousy, rather than as part of a premeditated plan, jurors often found reason to acquit them. A case like this was known as a crime passionnel, and the term became common in English in 1955 during the trial of Ruth Ellis, who in a jealous rage shot her unfaithful lover five times outside a London pub. She became the last woman in Britain to receive the death penalty.
Sharon wondered if she could get away with claiming it was a crime passionnel, but the chances of anyone believing she was in love with her neighbor’s dog seemed slim.
Curriculum vitae
course of life (Latin)
This is a summary of everything we have achieved educationally and professionally in our lives up to the present day. Most of us have written one at some point, and many of us may have read through a selection of other people’s when looking for a new employee. Though the full translation sounds rather poetic, most curricula vitae, CVs, or résumés, reduce the course of life to its barest shell, leaving room only for word-processing qualifications and spurious hobbies, such as relaxing and socializing with friends.
Caitlyn seems a lively girl, but I don’t think we can possibly employ her. When I asked for her curriculum vitae, she said, “Five foot four, 34D.”
Cushy
easy/pleasant (Urdu, from “khushi”)
The Urdu word “khushi ” meaning “happy,” “easy,” or “soft,” was adopted as “cushy” by members of the British army serving in India in thelate-nineteenth century. It was considered slang then, as it is today, and used to describe a situation that is not only highly agreeable but also considered lucky; the sort of position that we might describe as “nice work if you can get it.” In the United States the term is also employed to describe a pleasingly plump person.
And you get paid just to look after someone else’s house while they’re on holiday? That’s a bit cushy, isn’t it?
D
De rigueur
necessary (French)
Like so many English phrases that relate to etiquette and fashion, we borrowed this term from the French. If something is “de rigueur,” it is necessary according to the strict codes of protocol despite not being enshrined by an official rule or law. The term was especially useful in the rigidly rule-bound Victorian era, but since then it has also come to mean anything that is in line with the latest trends.
Charlotte spent the last few moments before her guests arrived decanting her supermarket-brand coffee into an unmarked tin; along with organic vegetables, fair-trade coffee had become de rigueur at dinner parties these days.
De trop
in excess (French)
This phrase means “too much” and can be used in two ways. Its original meaning in English was simply “too many” or “a superfluou
s amount,” and it is still used in this way to point out—in a delicate French way, of course—that something is over the top or beyond the bounds of good taste. It is also used when a person’s presence isn’t welcome, like when your boyfriend’s best friend tags along on every date.
I thought wearing a cloak and sword with his dinner jacket was rather de trop.
Debacle
collapse (French)
This word comes from “débâcler,” which means “to unbar” or “break loose,” but in both French and English its true definition is a “catastrophic failure” or “collapse.” It originally referred to the caving in of a physical structure, like a roof, or to flooding caused by the breakup of ice in a river, and also to a terrible defeat in battle. Over time it has become a useful way of describing less dramatic defeats as terrible muddles and failure, such as sports events in which one team was severely beaten or for sometimes ludicrous political or organizational failures.
Kevin once had his hopes pinned on the top job, but his career had never quite recovered from the “pay raise for politicians” debacle.
Decree nisi
unless (Latin)
This phrase means simply “not final or absolute,” but it has retained its place in English as a legal term. A “decree nisi” is a ruling by the court that won’t come into effect until a certain condition has been met—usually that there are no further presentations of relevant material to the court. We use the term to refer to a conditional divorce, which will become absolute after the passing of a set amount of time, unless there is just cause to modify it.
Nicole gave a little skip of joy as she left the lawyer’s office. The judge had issued a decree nisi, and in six weeks and a day she would be free.
Déjà vu
already seen (French)
This term is used to describe the feeling of having already been through an experience you are actually having for the first time. Its earliest use was in a French translation of Sigmund Freud’s Psychopathology of Everyday Life, published in 1901, in which he suggested that the feeling corresponded to the memory of a subconscious daydream. We still use it to describe this as-yet-unexplained phenomenon, but a sense of déjà vu is also now used when an event feels similar to something that has happened in the past.
Home owners watched interest rates rise with an unnerving sense of déjà vu.
Delicatessen
fine foods or delicacies (German)
This word has its origins in the Latin word “delicatus,” which means “pleasure-giving,” but arrived in English via the German “Delikatessen,” which described ready-to-eat foods, such as cold meats, cheeses, and salads. In English the term is almost exclusively used to describe not the foodstuffs themselves but the shops that sell them. Colloquially known as “delis,” these are often Italian, rather than German, and are characterized by the smell of freshly roasted coffee and vats of garlic-infused pickles.
There was only one person to blame for the failure of Jenna’s diet—the proprietor of her local delicatessen, who, she felt sure, laced his chocolate brownies with some sort of highly addictive chemical.
Demimonde
half-world (French)
An 1855 play called Le Demi-Monde by Alexandre Dumas fils gave the French this word for “mistresses.” It describes a half-world on the fringes of eighteenth-century society inhabited by courtesans. Mistresses were an accepted part of upper-class life in both France and the UK, and the term soon migrated across the Channel, though its use in this context faded in the twentieth century as the women’s rights movement grew. It was subsequently used to describe a world of penniless bohemian artists and those on the edges of respectable society.
That’s it, I’m going back to the day job. Ventriloquism is all I’ve ever wanted to do, but I can’t live in this demimonde a moment longer.
Denouement
an untying (French)
After the climax of a story, there are usually a few loose ends to tie up—this is the “denouement.” Confusing perhaps, since the French word means “untying,” but whichever tying metaphor you feel most comfortable with, the final outcome is the same—a neatening-up of a plot’s complexities. As with so many theatrical methods, Shakespeare is the master of the denouement, and most of his dramas conclude with false identities being uncovered, justice being done, and everyone getting married.
I just can’t follow these murder mysteries; I usually just nap through until the denouement.
Derrière
behind (French)
The bottom is one of the few parts of the body for which we have a plethora of words. Many of these arrived in the English language in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, either as slang or as euphemisms, and “behind” was among them. Exactly how or why this was translated to “derrière” is unclear. It could have been because few people, especially servants and children, spoke French. Or perhaps it was felt that the Frenchness took the edge off its vulgarity and lent the term a certain continental dignity that “butt” and “backside” lack.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with that little bird. I bent down to pick up some seeds that had dropped from its cage and it leaned through the bars and pecked me on the derrière.
Déshabillé (also dishabille)
undressed (French)
Dating back to the seventeenth century in English usage, this word is used to convey the state of being either very casually dressed or only partially clothed. In settings where propriety required a certain dress code, it would have referred to an inappropriately informal and careless way of dressing, which gave rise to the additional meaning of disordered thinking. These days it is still used to mean undressed and can also mean a garment that you wear when mostly undressed, like a nightgown or underwear.
Things had been strained in the Mortimer household since Mr. Mortimer had been caught in a state of déshabillé in the church hall with two members of the women’s group.
Deus ex machina
god from the machinery (Latin)
This describes a plot device used in Greek tragedy in which seemingly impossible situations were resolved by actors playing gods being lowered onto the stage by a crane and whisking everyone off to a happy ending. The phrase was first used by Horace in his Ars Poetica, in which he warned his fellow Roman poets against resorting to such unimaginative methods in their craft. Over time its meaning evolved to encompass any sudden and unrealistically simple external solution to a complex problem in a narrative, and critics still use the phrase in this way today.
A sentimental novel with a deus ex machina so clunky that you could almost hear the ropes creaking.
Diaspora
scattering (Greek)
This comes from the Greek word “diaspeirein,” which means to “spread about” in the sense of sowing or scattering, but in references as far back as the Old Testament, it is used specifically to describe the body of Jews living outside Israel after their exile to Babylonia in the sixth century BC. Jewish communites around the world are still referred to in this way, though the word is also now applied to any dispersion of people or entities that originate in one fixed place.
Union Jacks and cafés serving egg and fries are the usual calling cards of the British diaspora in the Mediterranean.
Diktat
something dictated (German)
A punitive decree issued to a defeated nation is called a “diktat,” since its terms are dictated by the victor. The 1919 Treaty of Versailles was called “The Diktat” by the Germans because they had no option but to accept its damaging and humiliating terms. Its use became widespread in English from that point onward, and we now use it as a label for any harsh order or compulsory instruction issued by an individual or organization in authority.
A collective sigh of resignation echoed through the auditorium as the headmaster delivered his latest diktat.
Dilettante
one who delights (Italian, from “dilettare”)
This is an e
xample of a word that starts out with a friendly, positive meaning but after three centuries of use has ended up with a negative one. In the early 1700s it meant someone who took delight in fine art, without becoming an expert in it—an enthusiastic dabbler, as we might say now. No harm in that, you might think, but the word began to turn; the lack of expertise it implied became a suggestion of unprofessionalism and superficiality, and by the twentieth century it defined someone lacking in skill and commitment and possibly even a bit useless.
