The words of the English language that most beguile me are those of Germanic origin. That’s rather unoriginal, since my first language is German. Shouldn’t I be desensitized to German’s cleverness and compound words, given that I’ve been speaking it my entire life? Well, no. Of course not. I mean, come on! The German language is like a mad scientist masterfully stringing together words to create new ones that perfectly encapsulate a nuanced and recognizable concept. Zeitgeist is one example that comes to mind (zeit = time; geist = spirit, spirit of the times). As a member of the Germanic family of languages, English, too, has a wellspring of compound and blended words that express complex concepts highly efficiently. Think smog, hangry, frenemy, glamping, mansplaining.
Another thing that draws me to Germanic-derived words in English is that they’re tangible and concrete, contrary to Romance language words, which are more abstract representations of the objects they signify. By and large, words rooted in branches of the Germanic language family tend to be shorter and more direct, whereas Latinate words tend to be longer and more conceptual. The former have a grounded, everyday feel to them, the latter a loftier and more formal quality. For example: mindful vs. pensive, wish vs. desire, girth vs. circumference, freedom vs. liberty. English words that resonate the most with me are short and easy to understand and have hard consonants: dirt vs. soil, drink vs. beverage, damp vs. humid. You can feel them. They’re crisp, punchy, percussive. In the words of Al Perkins, “Hand, hand, fingers, thumb. One thumb, one thumb, drumming on a drum. Dum ditty, dum ditty, dum dum dum.”Note 1 They can also be harsh and throaty and so very on point: grit, hack, gruff.
Some crafty English words
Let’s explore three of my favourite English compound words that reflect some of the qualities described above: earworm, thunderclap and bittersweet. These words say what they mean; they’re not coded. And their meanings are captured in explicit images or sensations.
Earworm
Earworm, a calque of the German ohrwurm, denotes a song or melody that keeps repeating in one’s mind.Note 2 A combination of the words ear and worm, you can just picture the slippery grub wriggling through your ear canal. Not exactly appealing. But the global effect is so clever! Like a mini nightcrawler jigging in your head. Very visual. The catchy tune gets stuck in your mind, whether you like it or not. “Baby shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo” (apologies). Notice the unvoiced sounds created in the words baby and shark: they’re stop sounds that are produced by cutting off the flow of air and then pushing the sound out in a quick burst.
Thunderclap
Now consider the word thunderclap. It’s a combination of thunder (the rumbling sound that follows a flash of lightning) and clap (a sudden, sharp and loud noise), and the resulting effect is highly impactful. The word thunder (from Middle English thonder) itself sounds like a two-part thud (think heavy-metal band AC/DC). This is an example in which both signifier (written word) and signified (concept) convey the very same thing. Now add clap (from Old English), and the effect is compounded. The loud growling in the sky is made even harsher with a sharp and sudden blow. Take that!
Bittersweet
Third, a consummate oxymoron: bittersweet (from Middle English). Let’s break it down. Bitter (from Old English): peculiarly acrid and often disagreeable.Note 3 Sweet (from Old English): pleasing to the taste and typically induced by sugars.Note 4 Joined together, they convey something that is both bitter and sweet at the same time or something that elicits both joy and regret. Or, in the case of chocolate, a food with a rich, deep and definitely (for me, anyway) exquisite, if slightly astringent, flavour. What an adjective! Nuanced yet instantly relatable. Complex yet concrete. You can almost feel it lingering on the back of your tongue or conjuring up a painful memory. Here, too, we find the stop sounds, provided in this case by the phonemes /b/ and /t/, which are so typical of the sensory nature of English words. And did you know? Bittersweet nightshade is a vine so named because its initial sweet flavour is followed by a bitter aftertaste. It basically lures you in only to bite you back.
Conclusion
To recap, words with Germanic roots form the core of the English language and tend to be easier to say and understand. That speaks to me, literally. So when I turn to language to ground me, when the dog bites or the bee stings, I simply invoke my favourite things, ah, words. The ones that evoke immediate sensations: Crisp. Apple. Strudels. Schnitzel with noodles. I’m feeling better already.
What about you? What words resonate most with you?
