A Susurration Where There Should Be A Sound · 12:43am Oct 6th, 2020
Blog Number 104: Nothing Doing Edition
A few days into this break, and I can't say I'm enjoying it. Doing things is what makes me feel energized and on form, even if it's only dissecting a good read with my mind (usually it's more physical, like playing a video game or tackling a few jobs here and there). Not doing something I want very much to do is making me restless.
Don't misunderstand me: I have not forgotten why I'm not doing it. It's just that taking a break is not coming naturally to me: I'm the sort of person who only likes holidays as an excuse to perform a different set of tasks (and to follow a different schedule). Whereas I once went through the whole of January 2019 without writing a word, and the blank emptiness as a result still bugs me like a frustrated itch.
And then I hear about a really interesting contest with a time limit, and it makes my teeth grind against each other. 
If I may indulge in a digression or distraction for a moment:
I'm still currently reading through the Tiffany Aching series, and it didn't take long for Tiffany to become so goshdarned endearing in my eyes. She's a thinker, and a bookworm! The sort of curious girl who once read the family dictionary because no one told her you weren't supposed to. And one of her notable traits is liking words on the margins.
Such as "susurrus", a whispering hush with a lot of foreboding implications. It's, in a typically Pratchettian way, a word for a thing which isn't onomatopoeia but which sounds like it should be (other candidates are "glitter", "glisten", "glimmer", and "gleam", which sound like the noises light would make if light could make noises).
At one point, I looked up the etymology of susurrus, and sure enough, it's Latin for "whisper", related to susurrare "to murmur or hum". A word with an ancient pedigree indeed. I love it when that happens. It's like turning over a stone and seeing your first rare fossil.
It's a pity I don't really have any favourite words like that - I tend to treat a lot of things (words, factoids, episodes, games) as just different flavours for when I'm in different moods, so "favourite" is a moving target at best - but one that popped into my head while I was typing this was "solidus".
Apart from its connection to the modern "solid" - and in chemistry, a "solidus" is the temperature point or line between a substance's solid state and its liquid state - it originally meant a golden coin of the late Roman Empire, presumably paid to soldiers, because guess where the term "soldier" came from?
(I don't know why the "d" and the "i" swapped places, but as corruptions go, it's pretty tame compared to some I've come across. And "corruption" in context just means the more neutral "any change in a language", rather than the relatively modern and pejorative concept of a thing or person changing for the worse).
Seemingly everyday words can have strange family trees. That's why I love etymology so much. In fact, I looked up the etymology of "etymology" once: it derives from Greek "etumon", meaning the "true sense", and was originally a bit of a snobby concept meant to denigrate more modern forms of language, as if the "original" or "historical" sense was the only true one, a kind of once-there-was-a-Golden-Age style of thinking.
Basically, it's like the misguided idea that "decimate" can only mean "to destroy one-tenth of", simply because it's derived from "deci-" for "one-tenth". This, despite the fact that, well, languages change.
This kind of thing even led to the naming of a well-known logical fallacy, the etymological fallacy, i.e. the naive argument that involves forcing a word's older meaning into a modern context to work. It's about as foolish as insisting fossils are still-living bones.
Words do a lot of jobs over the centuries. You'd be amazed at what some taken-for-granted terms used to be like.
Hey, here's a little gift from me to you: what do "treason" and "tradition" have in common? I think you'll be pleasantly surprised! 
Or here's another one to put away: how about "treasure" and "thesaurus"? Got anywhere to put those? 
Anyway, that's my little lingo game for the time being! This latter part of this blog post was fun to write. The former part... felt cathartic, I'll just say that.
Until next time. Impossible Numbers, out.
Right up there with "shimmer" and "sparkle."
I recognize this fallacy, but I still object to "literally" coming to mean its opposite.
But yeah, etymology can be a ton of fun.
Here's hoping the break goes more smoothly down the road.
5372019
Languages change, true, but no one said you had to like it. I think "literally" is just going the same way as "really", "actually", and "very" did, though it'd be a shame to lose another crisp word just so people can be blandly emphatic.
My main pet peeve is when technical terms get this kind of treatment. For instance, people confusing "psychopathic" with "psychotic" annoys me. A psychosis is a tragic loss of reality; psychopathy is the stuff of monsters. I don't think anything's gained by confusing the two.
Plus, I don't like it when people confuse OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, which is basically like being possessed and having to do rituals to silence an inner demon) with OCPD (Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder, which is basically where you like being a fussy pedant who organizes everything, even to the point of annoying others).
But I guess that, outside of a psychiatric environment, it just isn't going to catch on.
Here's hoping, indeed.
Have you considered playing word games during your break? Just writing puns or rhyming words or whatever and enjoying that "Pop Tart -> Moth Fart -> Night Wind -> Hind End." It isn't productive, but it is a way to do something with words.
I will have to remember susurrus. My favorite obscure word is insalubrious, and there could easily be an insalubrious susurrus.
I once found a list of the 100 most beautiful words (absurd, because there were actually more than 100 words on it) in the English language, of which sussurus is one. I still have it in my mind to one day write a story that uses all the words as its plot.
As far as the not-writing goes - how about writing more blogs like this if you're having fun with them? I feel it's the enjoyment you want to recapture. Even on my long break, though I didn't write any fiction, I wrote up reports of my caving trips. I always had fun doing those - still do!
5372137
Part of the problem with that kind of activity is that I'm aware it's arbitrary when I start, so it's hard to generate much enthusiasm for it. I might try more non-creative writing, though, just to keep my hand in. It'd be more organized and feel more purposeful.
"Insalubrious" is an excellent word, right alongside "unctuous" and "obnoxious" in sounding so wickedly off and slimy. There's a certain poetry even to nasty words, I think.
5372216
Well, there would be more than 100 most beautiful words, wouldn't there? How a person could narrow it down even to that many, I'm sure I wouldn't know.
Now you mention it, I think I will post blog entries more often. Also, you go caving? As a one-off, or as a regular thing? I've never tried it at all myself; I'm not the outdoor adventurer type by a long shot (if nothing else, I like my urban comforts a bit too much).
5372829
though what angered me was labeling a list as having 100 words on it, when on counting I discovered it had 106. And two of them were arguably French! It's like they didn't even use the numbered list function. 
Touché
I go caving as a regular thing (though there's been a dearth this year - I generally stay in a caving area overnight and that has been much more difficult and faffy with covid-19 restrictions.) I picked it up as a hobby at university and never stopped. There is nothing like spending the afternoon getting a bit chilly to make one appreciate sitting in front of a warm fire in the evening! Though hikers would say the same and still argue that cavers are bonkers, which I honestly can't deny.
5372881
To be fair, English as a language likes to steal interesting words from others, so I've no immediate objection to a bit of French filching. Odd, though: I thought a list like that would've been numbered, so that posting 106 was either a deliberately rhetorical move for effect or just blatant lack of attention.
Well, as neither a hiker nor a caver, I can diplomatically say you're both bonkers.
Although as someone who feels uncomfortable roughing it outdoors, I must admit I kinda sorta envy you the idea of just doing it for fun. You must have nerves of steel (at least compared to me). I consider visiting London for a few days a massive undertaking, and all I did there last time was visit a museum and a zoo. I didn't have to worry about them caving in. 
Yes, COVID-19 has a lot to answer for. I'm assuming caving is like mountaineering and diving: no one sensible does it alone, which is where the social distancing measures might prove a hindrance to the activity.
In the meantime, still wondering what to blog about. I don't have anything as exciting as caving to talk about, especially not under lockdown conditions. A lot of what I like is private time and esoterica, and neither make for good conversation. So, well, I'm still wondering.
5373164
In the caving company I keep it's easy to feel I don't have nerves of steel at all! But it's easy to forget that even going underground is an achievement itself. And you're right - it's difficult to keep socially distant in most caves. Furthermore, socialising is a major part of its charm (and safety) as a sport! There are people who go caving by themselves, but it's not something I'd be personally comfortable doing. Written accounts of caving trips leads to what the caving community calls "armchair caving" - read away in the comfort of your own home, and imagine you're in the cave, rather than the pesky business of actually doing it. I've done a lot of armchair caving this year. 
Bonkers? Thanks, you're too kind
Hey, I've lived in London and nowadays visit a few times a year - visiting the museums is no joke! Nowadays I limit myself to an annual trip to the NHM for the Wildlife Photographer of the Year Exhibition and then buy a postcard of the photo I liked most. This year it was one of the last things I did prior to lockdown.
I think things will come to you as and when. I'm enjoying your continued observations on Tiffany Aching, and this etymology stuff was lots of fun to read too. You're more interesting than you think!