elf

Elves are fun because there are so many vastly different interpretations. Everything from Santa’s toymakers to Elrond and his court qualify into our concept of elven forms.

Generally speaking, we might define elfas being a “spirit, sprite, fairy or goblin; some kind of usually mischievous supernatural creature.” This same definition existed for the Middle English term elf,alternately recorded as alfeorelfe.In Old English, the word was ælf,still retaining its meaning of “sprite, incubus or fairy,” but specifically with a masculine connotation. The feminine version of the word was ælfen, which interestingly is the predecessor to our modern adjectival form elven.

The word branches out of the Germanic family, and we can point to some other connected words in Old High German, like alp which meant “nightmare.” There is actually an Old English cognate which is ælfádl, also meaning “nightmare,” but more literally, “elf-disease.” Another interesting elf-induced sickness was though to be hiccups, which is reflected in the OE translation ælfsogoða.

Beyond this era of the Old English and German there is some debate about where the words originally sprouted from. The trail may be related to albusoralphoúsἀλφούς, the Latin and Ancient Greek terms for “white” respectively. The cultural theory implies that elves were considered beings of light, brightness and beauty, and thus as this concept evolved from those ideas, so did the English form out of the adjectives.

Ferrets are very cute. This is a scientific fact. They are a long, furry, domesticated subtype of the European polecat. They have a look on their face like they are ever so slightly irritated at having been recently woke up, and I love them very dearly. 

Anyways, the Middle English feret (also documented as fyrette), was borrowed from the Old French firet, which is a derivative of the Latin fūr,meaning “thief.” This is also a cognate to the Ancient Greek φώρ phṓr,also “thief.” 

What I find fun about the Ancient Greek, is that it also can be used to refer to a bee, specifically a “robber bee.” I absolutely love the fact that both the Latin and Greek chose to refer to tiny animals as being the perpetrators of some thievery, namely that they “carry things away,” from the Proto-Indo-European bher- meaning “carry.” 

I also particularly enjoy the fact that this Latin also gave us furtive, “done in a sneaking, secretive way,”more specifically from fūrtīvus,“stolen.”  

dandelion

I absolutely never noticed this, but now that I’ve seen it, I cannot believe it never occurred to me. Dandelion, the flower of my childhood, is a borrowing from the French name dent de lion, which is literally “lion’s teeth.” 

I think this is the most adorable thing and I love it very much. 

The French came through the Middle English, spelled alternately as dantdelyonordendelyoun.This phrase has also popped up in related languages, such as the Welsh dant y llew, and the Spanish diente de léon.

At the very base of it is the Latin dens leonis, which translates pretty much the same as its linguistic descendants. 

Interestingly, in looking around some dictionaries, I found this entry from an anthology of plants written in 1578: 

The great Groundlwel, hath rough whitish leaves, deeply jagged and knawen upo both sides, like to the leaves of the white Mustard or lenuie. The stalke is two foote high or more: at the top where-of growe smal knoppes, which do open into smal yellow flowers the which are lodenly gone, changed into downie blowbawles like to the heades of Dantdelyon, and are blowen away with the winde.

I’m not sure I transcribed that right, but I really like the last bit: “changed into downie blowbawles like to the heades of Dantdelyon, and are blowen away with the winde.”