“Where I am not understood, it shall be concluded that something very useful and profound is couched underneath.” --Jonathan Swift
Monday, December 2, 2013
Schottenfreude
Ben Schott is not well known on this side of the Atlantic
but has gained quite a following in the UK, not large but a quality bunch, for
his work initially as a photographer as well as his way with language and his
ability to describe matters with a precise amount of pith. (He described
his session while photographing Tony Blair. As they finished, Blair
offered to show Schott his son, then an infant, but Cherie barked at him that
they were about to have lunch. Cherie, like Hillary – often her own worst
press adversary.)
Yet Schott is best known for a series of small books –
three altogether now – gathered together as Schott's Miscellanies,
collections of trivia that deal with the culture of the UK and to some extent
with the EU and Commonwealth. He has since expanded into a series of
almanacs.
His latest endeavor is published with the delightful
title of Schottenfreude (a take on the more common and enjoyable term 'Schadenfreude'),
and reflects on how the German language has the elastic capacity to enjoin
meanings into words that are simply too tempting not to incorporate into other
languages: e.g., Doppelgänger, Zeitgeist, Wanderlust,
Götterdämmerung, Katzenjammer, Schrecklichkeit, Schwerpunkt, Sitzpinkler,
Gemütlichkeit, Sprachgefühl, Weltanshauung, Weltschmerz.
Schott's idea is to help along this remarkably
conjunctive quality of the language by crafting words that we can immediately
put to good use, those words that we have unconsciously sought to use but
didn't have at our behest. Some are admittedly a bit too precise for
everyday usage but still enjoyable to know, while others we can put to use in
short fashion.
Some examples which caught my eye:
- Plauschplage (prattle-plague): The pressure to make bantering small talk with people you interact with every day.
- Tantalusqualerlösung (Tantalus-torment-redemption): The relief and delight of perfectly
slaked thirst.
- Fingernageltafelquietschen
(fingernail-blackboard-squeal): The
visceral hatred of certain noises.
- Gastdruck
(guest-pressure): The exhausting
effort of being a good houseguest.
- Fingerspitzentanz (fingertips-dance): Tiny triumphs of nimble-fingered
dexterity.
- Traumneustartversuch (dream-restart-experiment): The (usually futile) attempt to return to the plot of the dream after having been awakened.
And my particular favorite (the word, certainly not the
action), if only for the imagery enticed:
- Dornhöschenschlaf (thorny-lingerie-sleep): Feigning sleep to avoid sexual
intimacy.
It promises to be quite entertaining and a welcome source of useful words in general, as well as words of limited application:
- Gaststattenneueröffnungsuntergangsgewissheit
(inn-new-opening-downfall-certitude): The certainty that a newly opened
restaurant will fail.
Besides the words themselves, the entertainment value of the book is found in the accompanying notes to each of the words.
Mercy Fieldmouse, as we used to say. Back when I spoke broken Kraut, or Germlish, mixed with Frenchlish, but even most of what I had then has disappeared along with the vanished brain cells.
Comments are welcome and discussion is open and encouraged. I expect that there will be some occasional disagreement (heaven knows why) or welcome clarification and embellishment, and such are freely solicited.
Consider that all such comments are in the public domain and are expected to be polite, even while contentious. I will delete comments which are ad hominem, as well as those needlessly profane beyond the realm of sputtering incredulity in reaction to some inanity, unless attributed to a quote.
Links to other sources are fine so long as they further the argument or expand on the discussion. All such comments and links are the responsibility of the commenter, and the mere presence herein does not necessarily constitute my agreement.
I will also delete all comments that link to a commercial site.
Heh. Sounds like a winner. Thanks or the tip.
ReplyDeleteBitte schön
DeleteMercy Fieldmouse, as we used to say. Back when I spoke broken Kraut, or Germlish, mixed with Frenchlish, but even most of what I had then has disappeared along with the vanished brain cells.
ReplyDeleteThough if you were placed back in that environment, you'd be surprised how much would eventually come back.
Delete