by Chloe Rhodes
If Molly could only get out of her pajamas before noon, it would be a big step toward getting a career.
Q
QED (Quod Erat Demonstrandum)
that which was to be demonstrated (Latin)
Ancient Greek mathematicians, including Archimedes and Euclid, used a similar phrase at the conclusion of a proven mathematical truth to indicate that they had worked out their solution (“that which” they had intended to show) using logical deductions. Mathematical books were written in Latin during the European Renaissance, when the phrase was adopted by philosophers to add weight to their arguments. We now use it at the end of any statement we deem to be irrefutable.
A diet low in red meat and high in fruit and vegetables is good for controlling obesity. You never see a fat vegetarian. QED.
Quasi
as if (Latin)
In Latin this phrase was employed in exactly the same way that we would use the words “as if,” but over time it has come to be used as a prefix to words such as “scientific,” “historical,” “official,” and “religious,” to indicate that something is almost, or has some resemblance to the word it precedes. It provides us with a useful linguistic tool for describing things that can nearly, but not quite, be placed into a category we are familiar with.
I want a new TV, not a science lesson, so skip the quasi-technological sales pitch and tell me how much it costs.
Que sera sera
whatever will be, will be (Portuguese/Spanish/French)
It’s not actually clear which language this happy-go-lucky phrase comes from. It was the title of a 1956 song by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans, which became a hit after Doris Day sang it for the Alfred Hitchcock film The Man Who Knew Too Much. Livingston said he’d adapted it from “che sera sera,” a motto from the 1954 film The Barefoot Contessa, which may in turn have been taken from Christopher Marlowe’s sixteenth-century play Dr. Faustus.
Kay’s attempt at seeming nonchalant about the promotion was rather spoiled by the volume at which she belted out “Que Sera Sera” on her way to the interview.
Quid pro quo
something for something (Latin)
In law this Latin term is used to describe an equal exchange, either to ensure good behavior by requiring that services or goods are exchanged for something of equal value or to prevent bad behavior by ensuring, for example, that donors to political parties don’t expect favors in return. We now also use it more generally to describe a situation that is mutually beneficial. The British slang word “quid” for “pound sterling” is also derived from this phrase and its association with currency and exchange.
An excellent meal, Neil, and it’s my treat. No, really, I insist; quid pro quo—you’ve been a marvelous host all week.
R
Raconteur
skilled storyteller (French)
This French word comes from the verb “raconter,” meaning to “relate” or “recount,” and is used to describe people with a sort of refined version of the “gift of the gab”; in other words, someone known for her wit and skill at telling stories. It was first used in English in the nineteenth century, just in time for one of the world’s most celebrated raconteurs, Oscar Wilde, to be labeled with the term.
Billy felt a bead of perspiration trickle down his neck as the first of his witty anecdotes was met with silence. He’d never been much of a raconteur, and suddenly he understood that he just wasn’t cut out to be best man.
Raison d’être
reason for being (French)
Originally used straightforwardly to rationally justify the existence of a thing, person, or organization, the phrase has been used in English since 1864 to describe an individual’s primary motivation in life or dearest passion. If there is a cause that someone dedicates all his time to fighting for, or a project or hobby that he feels more passionate about than anything else, that might be described as his raison d’être.
Quentin came to life as he heard those rumba rhythms; dancing had been his raison d’être since the day he first realized his hips knew how to wiggle.
Rapport
harmonious relationship (French)
When this word was first used in English in the mid-1800s, it was in the context of the psychologist-patient relationship. The earliest written record is Edgar Allan Poe’s 1844 short story “A Tale of the Rugged Mountains,” in which Poe uses it to describe the magnetic bond between a practitioner of mesmerism (early hypnosis) and his subject. The word is still used in psychology, though we now also use the term to refer to any feeling of connection or emotional affinity between two people.
Lucy stood at the edge of the red carpet and quivered; Brad had only glanced at her for a second while he signed his autograph on her fake plaster cast, but she was sure he, too, had felt the rapport between them.
Reductio ad absurdum
reduction to the absurd (Latin)
Another Latin term useful in both mathematics and philosophy, “reductio ad absurdum” is a process of logical reasoning in which a mathematician or debater might prove his or her own theorem to be correct by starting out with the opposite claim and showing that it leads to a ridiculous outcome. When their careful calculations demonstrate that it is wrong, they have succeeded in proving that their own claim is right.
Birds are most certainly vertebrate animals that fly.
Are they? You don’t think that the flightless emu and the ostrich furnish the reductio ad absurdam for your proposition?
Renaissance
rebirth (French)
This is the name given to the period of radical cultural change that took place across Europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The movement began in Italy, where scholars called it the “rinascita”—the rebirth—in recognition of the fact that they had escaped the barbarism of the Middle Ages and were rediscovering the cultural values of ancient Rome and Greece. The French translated the word, and as England entered its own modern era, it borrowed the French term. We now use it to describe any kind of revival.
Sandra carried her old clothes down from the attic with reverence. She was a shoulder-pad girl at heart and was thrilled that 1980s fashions were having a renaissance.
Rickshaw
man-powered carriage (Japanese)
These two-wheeled carriages were originally pulled along by a runner and were first used in Japan in around 1868. The word is a shortened version of “jinrikisha”—a blend of three Japanese words: “jin,” meaning “man,” “riki,” meaning “power,” and “sha,” meaning “carriage.” It was popularized in English by Rudyard Kipling’s 1888 ghost story “The Phantom Rickshaw” and is now used to describe the bicycle-drawn carriages that clog the streets of Central London and downtown New York.
Jack had always agreed with Samuel Johnson that when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life, but the day he was run over by a rickshaw, he realized that Johnson’s London was sadly not comparable with his own.
Rigor mortis
stiffness of death (Latin)
Ancient Roman physicians carrying out the earliest autopsies used this term to describe the rigidity of the body after death. Within three to six hours of death, chemical changes in the muscles, combined with a buildup of lactic acid, cause the body to stiffen unless it is carefully cooled ready for embalming. The development of rigor mortis can be useful in determining the time of death in police investigations.
I’m afraid Snowy’s grave is going to have to run the full length of the garden; it didn’t occur to me that rabbits got rigor mortis.
Robot
drudgery (Czech)
The Czech word “robota” means “drudgery,” hence “robot” for devices that can do tedious work for humans. The Czech writer Karel Capek first introduced the concept, and name, of “robot” in his play R.U.R. (Rossum’s Universal Robots), whose first scene takes place in a factory that manufactures artificial people to work for humans. There are many different definitions of what constitutes a modern robo
t, but broadly speaking, they are programmable electromechanical systems that can sense and interact with their environment. In popular imagination robots are machines with human qualities and capabilities, but whether they could ever possess true intelligence continues to intrigue philosophers, scientists, writers and filmmakers alike.
Professor Zoton deliberately didn’t give his robot, Epsilon-TransnegativeElectrostabilizer, a name in case he became too attached to him. Nevertheless it would have been easier to call him “Pete.”
Roué
debauched or lecherous man (French)
This is a rare example of a term that is derived from the kind of punishment that ought to befall the person given it. The word is the past participle of “rouer,” which means to “break on a wheel” or “beat harshly,” which the French felt was a fitting treatment for such a dissipated creature. These days, society is less critical of lechery, and the word is often used for sex-hungry men who are regarded as “players.”
I’d steer clear of that Les Fisher if I were you, Jeanette. Apparently he’s become a bit of a roué since he discovered hair color for men.
Rucksack
back bag (German)
What is often thought of as a peculiarly British word is actually borrowed from the Germans. It may have come into use during the era of Romanticism, which thrived in Germany and saw many an awe-inspired poet seeking the sublime on the kind of mountain walks that it would have been foolhardy to attempt without a rucksack of provisions. In Germany itself, the rucksack is often called a “body bag,” which doesn’t sound quite so wholesome.
For goodness’ sake, Doreen, how do you expect me to find the compass when you insist on filling every crevice of the backpack with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?
S
Safari
journey (Swahili)
In Swahili a “safari” is any journey, even just popping out to the local market and back, but in English it is reserved for tours of the savannah made especially to see and photograph the wildlife. It is thought to have been brought into the English language by explorer Sir Richard Francis Burton in the nineteenth century, when the phrase “point and shoot” had rather different connotations. Hunting safaris are now rare, and the term has extended to include wildlife-watching trips to rain forests, frozen tundra, and remote parts of the ocean.
We thought about going on a safari this year, didn’t we, Jeff? But then we thought, well, we get a lot of quite sizable cats in the backyard at home, so we stuck with the Jersey Shore.
Sangfroid
cold blood (French)
Though the literal translation makes the term sound vaguely reptilian, “sangfroid” is—in both French and English—a desirable quality in a person. It arrived in English during the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century and means “cool-headedness” and “composure.” An important attribute in all reasoning individuals, sangfroid implies an ability to keep a clear mind and an even temper in the most testing of circumstances.
Did you see her face as the nominations were read out? It was completely expressionless; I don’t know whether to admire her sangfroid or blacklist whoever does her Botox.
Sarong
covering (Malay)
The “sarong” is the Malay national garment and the word was first recorded in 1834. It is made from a long sheet of fabric, often batik dyed, or woven with checks for men, which is tied at the waist. It is still worn by both men and women in Southeast Asia, but in the West they are worn exclusively by women and David Beckham.
Toby waited for a good ten minutes after Sophie had left the house and then crept over to her closet. He’d once been told he looked like David Beckham, and he wanted to see if he could carry off a sarong.
Savoir faire
know how to do (French)
In both French and English this phrase refers to the kind of innate social knowledge possessed by tactful people who know instinctively how to behave, though the French version has more practical overtones and can refer to depth of knowledge in a particular field. The phrase was first recorded in English by Sir Walter Scott in his 1815 novel Guy Mannering, in which a character called Gilbert Glossin is described as having “great confidence in his own savoir faire” when it came to his polished behavior in society. Today we also use the informal shortened “savvy” for “know-how.”
This isn’t a job for Daniel—I know he tries hard, but he has as much savoir faire as a baby chihuahua.
Schadenfreude
pleasure taken from another’s suffering (German)
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 slap-stick antics of Charlie Chaplin to the self-deprecatory humor of modern stand-up comedians, as long as suffering isn’t permanently damaging, it can be enjoyable to witness. The modern obsession with following the downfall of troubled celebrities is proof of the word’s continuing usefulness.
Mary couldn’t bear circus clowns, the Schadenfreude the rest of the audience experienced from watching them fall over just left her with a nervous headache.
Schlep
drag (Yiddish)
This comes from the Yiddish word “shlepn,” meaning to “drag” or “pull,” and it has retained this meaning in one of its modern uses, in which it is synonymous with the English word “lug.” It is more frequently used, though, to describe an arduous or difficult journey and, most recently, to describe any journey, however short or simple, that you simply can’t be bothered to make.
Oh, darling, please can we just get in a taxi. It’s such a schlep to get to the West End, and my Manolos don’t deserve this kind of pounding.
Schmaltz
rendered fat (Yiddish)
In brutally literal terms “schmaltz” is rendered chicken or goose fat that is clarified and eaten spread on bread, in the way that lard used to be before we knew about the dietary causes of heart disease. It arrived in English in the 1930s courtesy of Yiddish-speaking Jews who used it in this culinary sense, but it has been adapted by English speakers, along with the newly coined “schmaltzy” to describe something excessively maudlin or “dripping” with sentimentality.
I know Broadway musicals are meant to be sentimental, but the schmaltz levels in this one are just suffocating.
Schmooze
converse casually (Yiddish)
This is one of those brilliant words that perfectly distils into a single syllable a fairly complex social interaction. It is believed to originate from the Hebrew word “schmu’ot,” which translates as “reports” or “gossip,” and is used in Yiddish, and now English, to describe the act of exchanging small talk with someone in order to establish a mutually beneficial relationship with them. It’s the “chatting-up” of the business world.
Tara downed her glass of pinot grigio, applied a fresh coat of lipstick, and spritzed on some perfume—she was ready to schmooze.
Schmuck/schmo
penis (Yiddish)
“Schmuck” and its slightly less offensive derivative “schmo,” have meanings synonymous with “idiot,” “sad case,” and the somewhat less refined “dickhead.” Like the latter of these derogatory appellations, both come from the Yiddish word for penis and are used in English, primarily in the United States, as insults. The Yiddish “schmuck” is linked to the same word in German, where it means “jewels,” which may or may not be the source of the popular euphemism “the family jewels.”
Gregory, you’ve got to help me; some schmuck’s just let his dog do its business on the wheel of my vintage Aston Martin.
Shaman
