I wish I had read about this before I wrote last week’s post. Except for walking around the library, all of the means of outreach I wrote about entailed the use of computer technology and electronic communication. Who would have thought of a bicycle? Continue reading
A librarian sits at the reference desk. Patrons come to the desk, ask questions, and receive answers. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.
I have personally served at busy times with people streaming past the desk in both directions, but not stopping to ask questions.
That doesn’t necessarily mean that none of those people had questions, either. Here’s a story I found on a librarians’ email list:
One student at an academic librarian sat at a table asking friends for help as they walked by. He used his cell phone to call friends in other parts of the library. He was sitting right next to the reference desk.
Not only did he not think to go ask a librarian for help, he refused help with the reference librarian came over to offer it!
The reference desk can be a lonely place to work! Continue reading
Our word “blue” comes from an old “Common Romance” word blavus. So? Blavus seems to come from the Latin flavus, which means yellow. Over the years, neither the spelling, nor the pronunciation, nor the meaning of words stays put.
“Baroque” comes from a word that refers to a misshaped pearl. Music and art critics of the early and middle 18th century used it to refer to the style of earlier generations that they considered unnatural, overly ornate.
In other words, these critics intended “baroque” as a derogatory term. It referred to music, architecture, paintings, etc. that violated “modern” notions of reason and good proportion.
So what do we mean by “baroque” now? It’s simply a designation for the various arts of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. We like it just fine, even if we don’t necessarily agree about what it means, what it includes, and what it excludes.
Changing parts of speech
Sometimes words change meaning, or at least emphasis when they change form.
That is, a noun might have maintained a particular meaning over centuries, but becomes something a little different as an adjective.
Take “omen,” for example. In the dictionary, for example that word means a phenomenon that foretells something good or evil. Take the old sailor’s rhyme
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight
Red sky at morning, sailor take warning
A red sunset is an omen that the next day will have good weather for clear sailing. A red sunrise is an omen that a storm is coming and it will be rough sailing.
If an omen can be good or bad, then why is “ominous” only something bad? We might say a red sunrise is ominous. We often use that word for an accumulation of black clouds and strong wind. A bad storm’s coming.
If a red sunset or bright blue skies with puffy cumulous clouds and a gentle breeze foretell a glorious day, why don’t we call them ominous? They’re omens, too.
The “e” in the noun becomes “i” in the adjective. But then the same thing has happened to the related pair “portent” and “portentous.” A portent can foretell something good, but something that’s portentous never does.
Terror and horror are both intense forms of fear. Terrible and horrible have both become merely ways of calling something bad.
I went to a restaurant one time and vowed never to go back. I thought the food was terrible. It didn’t stay in business long. The other people who tried it out must have thought the same.
You know very well when I said the food was terrible that I wasn’t frightened by it. Would it have been any different if I had said the food was horrible?
You have probably used or heard others use both words to warn someone against a bad restaurant or something. But not to make anyone afraid.
Enormity of change?
Here’s a word that seems to be changing meaning in our own lifetime: enormity. It means, or at least meant, a monstrous evil, a violation of decency, an outrage.
In other words, we can properly speak of the enormity of the holocaust, the enormity of slavery, even the enormity of the gulf oil spill. Enormity entails a moral value judgment.
More and more, people are using it as a mere description of size. If the enormity of the oil spill is a value judgment, the enormity of cleaning it up is not.
Would we lose a good and useful distinction if enormity becomes just another way of saying enormousness? I think so.
Is it worth fighting to preserve that distinction? Lots others must think so. Just google “enormity misuse” to see how many!
Can we do anything about it if that misuse becomes commonplace usage? No, unfortunately.
But here’s another example of a word that doesn’t mean at all what it looks like: noisome.
It doesn’t have anything to do with noisy. It comes from “annoy” and has always referred to a stench, a foul odor. A manure lagoon is noisome. A loud welcome home to the Super Bowl winner is not.
So do we find as much outrage over “noisome misuse”? No. Hardly anyone uses the word at all any more.
If an author uses it properly, it probably doesn’t communicate much to the average reader. If an author uses it improperly, the average reader probably, and quite properly, sees it only as an odd affectation for “noisy.”
If “noisome” hasn’t completely gone the way of “yclept,” it probably will soon enough.
Evolution satire. Some rights reserved by tedmurphy.
Sunset. Public domain, from Wikimedia Commons.
Pig farmer scooping manure. Some rights reserved by Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources.
For the past three years, the Greensboro (North Carolina) Public Library, in partnership with the Eastern Music Festival, have presented a series of concerts called “EMF Encircling the City.” It is a special outreach to introduce children to classical music. Children dearly love any music they hear.
This series exemplifies fairly standard library programming. Surely all public libraries in this country provide rich and varied experiences for children, including live music.
Most of them present live music to youth and adult audiences. too. Many even have dedicated concert halls so they don’t have to try to fit performances into multi-purpose rooms.
“EMF Encircling the City” is a three-year-old partnership that began as part of the Eastern Music Festival’s 50th-anniversary celebrations. Diane Phoenix-Neal, a Greensboro violist and EMF faculty member initiated the series. (For whatever it’s worth, she’s black and first participated in EMF as a young student.) Continue reading
All the others are written either to other librarians or to patrons at whatever library the author works for.
That is not to say that other library blogs have nothing of interest to the general public. Today’s post links to posts on other blogs that you might enjoy. If you like this one, it will become the first of an occasional series. Continue reading