Carnival

Carnival (pronounced kahr-nuh-vuhl)

(1) A traveling amusement show, having sideshows, rides etc.

(2) Any merrymaking, revelry, or festival, as a program of sports or entertainment.

(3) In the Christian ecclesiastical calendar, the season immediately preceding Lent, often observed with merrymaking; Shrovetide.

(4) A festive occasion or period marked by merrymaking, processions etc and historically much associated with Roman Catholic countries in the period just before Lent.

(5) A sports meeting.

(6) In literary theory (as the noun carnivalization & verb carnivalize), to subvert (orthodox assumptions or literary styles) through humour and chaos.

(7) In sociology, a context in which transgression or inversion of the social order is given temporary license (an extension of the use in literary theory).

(8) Figuratively, a gaudily chaotic situation.

(9) As a modifier (often as “carnival atmosphere?”) a festive atmosphere.

1540–1550: From the Middle French carnaval, from the Italian carnevale, from the Old Italian carnelevare (taking meat away), from older Italian forms such as the Milanese carnelevale or Old Pisan carnelevare (to remove meat (literally “raising flesh”)) the construct built from the Latin caro (flesh (originally “a piece of flesh”)) from the primitive Indo-European root sker- (to cut) + levare (lighten, raise, remove), from the primitive Indo-European root legwh- (not heavy, having little weight).  Etymologists are divided on the original source of the term used by the Church, the alternatives being (1) carnem levare (to put away flesh), (2) carnem levāmen (meat dismissal), (3) carnuālia (meat-based country feast) and (4) carrus nāvālis (boat wagon; float).  What all agree upon is the ecclesiastical use would have come from one of the forms related to “meat” and the folk etymology favors the Medieval Latin carne vale (flesh, farewell!).  Spreading from the use in Christian feast days, by at least the 1590s it was used in the sense of “feasting or revelry in general” while the meaning “a circus or amusement fair” appears to be a 1920s adoption in US English.  The synonyms can include festival, celebration, festivity, fiesta, jubilee, gala, fete, fête, fest, fair, funfair, exhibit, exhibition, revelry, merriment, rejoicing, jamboree, merrymaking, mardi gras, jollity, revel, jollification, exposition and show.  Which is chosen will be dependent on region, context, history etc and (other than in ecclesiastical use) rules mostly don’t exist but there seem to be a convention that a “sporting carnival” is a less formal event (ie non-championship or lower level competitions).  The alternative spelling carnaval is obsolete.  Carnival & carnivalization are nouns, carnivalize, carnivalizing & carnivalized are verbs, and carnivalic, carnivalistic, carnivalesque, carnivallike, precarnival & noncarnival are adjectives; the noun plural is carnivals.

Not just meat: Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) on fasting for Lent.

Originally, a carnival was a feast observed by Christians before the Lenten fast began and wasn’t a prelude to a sort of proto-veganism.  It was a part of one of religion’s many dietary rules, one which required Christians to abstain from meat during Lent (particularly on Fridays and during certain fast days), carnival the last occasion on which meat was permissible before Easter.  The Christian practice of abstaining from meat evolved as part of a broader theology of penance, self-denial, and imitation of Christ’s suffering, the rationale combining biblical precedent, symbolic associations and early ascetic traditions, the core of the concept Christ’s 40 days of fasting in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1–11, Luke 4:1–13).  Theologically, the argument was that for one’s eternal soul to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, a price to be paid was Imitatio Christi (earthly participation in Christ’s suffering).  Much the early church valued suffering (for the congregants if not the clergy and nobility) and the notion remains an essential theme in some Christian traditions which can be summed up in the helpful advice: “For everything you do, there’s a price to be paid.”

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) in 2016 on his private jet, fasting for Lent.

By voluntarily abstaining from certain foods, Christians imitated Christ’s self-denial and prepared spiritually for Easter: sharing in His suffering to grow in holiness.  Meat was seen a symbol of feasting and indulgence, an inheritance from Antiquity when “flesh of the beasts of the field” was associated with celebration rather than everyday subsistence, the latter something sustained typically by seafood, fruits and grains so voluntarily (albeit at the behest of the Church) choosing temporarily to renounce meat symbolized forgoing luxury and bodily pleasure, cultivating humility and penitence.  As well as the theological, there was also a quasi-medical aspect to what Tertullian (Quintus Septimius Florens Tertullianus, circa 155–circa 220) commended as “forsaking worldly indulgence” in that fasting took one’s thoughts away from earthly delights, allowing a focus on “prayer and spiritual discipline”, strengthening the soul against “sinful temptations”.  Another layer was added by the Patristics (from the Latin pater (father)), a school of thought which explored the writings and teachings of the early Church Fathers.  Although it was never a universal view in Patrology, there were those who saw in the eating of meat a connection to animal sacrifice and blood, forbidden in the Old Testament’s dietary laws and later spiritualized in Christianity, thus the idea of abstinence as a distancing from violence and sensuality.  Finally, there was the special significance of Fridays, which, as "Good Friday" reflected the remembrance of the crucifixion of Christ and his death at Calvary (Golgotha); the early Christians treated every Friday as a mini-fast and later this would be institutionalized as Lent.

Lindsay Lohan arriving at the Electric Daisy Carnival (left) and detail of the accessory worn on her right thigh (right), Memorial Coliseum, Los Angeles, June 2010.  The knee-high boots were not only stylish but also served to conceal the court-mandated SCRAM (Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor) bracelet.

The allowance of fish during Lent had both pragmatic and theological origins, its place in the Christian diet a brew of symbolism, biblical precedent and cultural context.  As a legal and linguistic point, in the Greco-Roman scheme of things fish was not thought “flesh meat” which was understood as coming from warm-blooded land animals and birds.  Fish, cold-blooded and aquatic, obviously were different and belonged to a separate category, one which Christianity inherited and an implication of the distinction was seafood being viewed as “everyday food” rather than an indulgent luxury.  This was a thing also of economics (and thus social class), the eating of fish much associated with the poorer coastal dwellers whereas meat was more often seen on urban tables.  Notably, there was also in this a technological imperative: in the pre-refrigeration age, in hot climates, often it wasn’t possible safely to transport seafood inland.  The Biblical symbolism included Christ feeding the multitudes with a few “loaves and fishes” (Matthew 14:13–21), several of the apostles were fishermen who Christ called upon to be “fishers of men” (Mark 1:16–18) and the ichthys (fish symbol) was adopted as early Christian emblem for Christ Himself.  Collectively, this made fish an acceptably modest food for a penitential season.  All that might have been thought justification enough but, typically, Medieval scholars couldn’t resist a bit of gloss and the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) decided abstinence aimed to “curb the concupiscence of the flesh” and, because meat generated more “bodily heat” and pleasure than fish, it was forbidden while fish was not.  That wasn’t wholly speculative and reflected the humoral theory from Antiquity, still an orthodoxy during the Middle Ages: fish seen as lighter, cooler, and less sensual.

Notting Hill Carnival, London.

Traditionally, there was also a Lenten prohibition of dairy products and eggs, each proscription with its own historical and symbolic logic and the basis of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day) and Easter eggs (though not the definitely un-Christian Easter bunny).  The strictness derived partly from Jewish precedents notably the vegetarian edict in Daniel 10:2–3 and the idea of a “return to Edenic simplicity” where man would eat only plants (Genesis 1:29) but also an aversion to links with sexuality and fertility, eggs obviously connected with sexual reproduction and dairy with lactation.  What this meant was early Christian asceticism sought to curb bodily impulses and anything connected with fleshly generation and (even if indirectly), thoughts of sex.

Historically, a time of absolution when confessions were made in preparation for Lent, Shrovetide described the three days immediately preceding Lent (Shrove Sunday, Shrove Monday & Shrove Tuesday, preceding Ash Wednesday).  The construct being shrove +‎ -tide, the word was from the late Middle English shroftyde.  Shrove was the simple past of shrive, from the Middle English shryven, shriven & schrifen, from the Old English sċrīfan (to decree, pass judgement, prescribe; (of a priest) to prescribe penance or absolution), from the Proto-West Germanic skrīban, from the late Proto-Germanic skrībaną, a borrowing from the Latin scrībō (write).  The word may be compared with the West Frisian skriuwe (to write), the Low German schrieven (to write), the Dutch schrijven (to write), the German schreiben (to write), the Danish skrive (to write), the Swedish skriva (to write) and the Icelandic skrifa (to write).  The –tide suffix was from the Middle English –tide & -tyde, from the Old English -tīd (in compounds), from tīd (point or portion of time, due time, period, season; feast-day, canonical hour).  Before refrigeration, eggs and dairy naturally accumulated during springtime as hens resumed laying and animals produced more milk.  Being banned during Lent, stocks thus had to be consumed lest they be wasted so a pragmatic way to ensure economy of use was the pancake (made with butter, milk & eggs), served on the feast of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day).  Following Easter, when eggs returned to the acceptable list, “Easter eggs” were a natural festive marker of the fast’s end.

Carnival Adventure and Carnival Encounter off Australia’s eastern Queensland coast.

Although dubbed “floating Petri dishes” because of the high number of food poisoning & norovirus cases, cruise ships remain popular, largely because, on the basis of cost-breakdown, they offer value-for-money packages few land-based operators can match.  The infections are so numerous because (1) there are thousands of passengers & crew in a closed, crowded environment, (2) an extensive use of buffets and high-volume food service, (3) a frequent turnover of crew & passengers, (4) port visits to places with inconsistent sanitation, health & food safety standards and (5) sometimes delayed reporting and patient isolation.

However, although the popular conception of Medieval Western Christendom is of a dictatorial, priest-ridden culture, the Church was a political structure and it needed to be cognizant of practicalities and public opinion.  Even dictatorships can maintain their authority only with public consent (or at least acquiescence) and in many places the Church recognized burdensome rules could be counter-productive, onerous dietary restrictions resented especially by the majority engaged for their living in hard, manual labor.  Dispensations (formal exceptions) became common with bishops routinely relaxing the rules for the ill, those pregnant or nursing or workers performing physically demanding tasks.  As is a common pattern when rules selectively are eased, a more permissive environment was by the late Middle Ages fairly generalized (other than for those who chose to live by to monastic standards).

Carnival goers enjoying the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras: This is not what Medieval bishops would have associated with the word “carnival” but few events better capture the spirit of the phrase “carnival atmosphere”.

The growth of dispensations (especially in the form of “indulgences” which were a trigger for the Protestant Reformation) was such it occurred to the bishops they’d created a commodity and commodities can be sold.  This happened throughout Europe but, in France and Germany, the “system” became institutionalized, the faithful even able to pay “butter money” for the privilege of eating the stuff over Lent (a kind of inverted “fat tax”!) with the proceeds devoted to that favourite capital works programme of bishops & cardinals: big buildings.  The sixteenth century tower on Normandy’s Rouen Cathedral was nicknamed “Butter Tower” although the funds collected from the “tax” covered only part of the cost; apparently even the French didn’t eat enough butter.  As things turned out, rising prosperity and the population drifts towards towns and cities meant consumption of meat and other animal products increased, making restrictions harder to enforce and the Protestant reformers anyway rejected mandatory fasting rules, damning them as man-made (“Popery!” the most offensive way they could think to express that idea) rather than divine law.  Seeing the writing nailed to the door, one of the results of the Council of Trent (1545–1563) was that while the Church reaffirmed fasting, eggs and dairy mostly were allowed and the ban on meat was restricted to Fridays and certain fast days in the ecclesiastical calendar.

Archbishop Daniel Mannix in his library at Raheen, the Roman Catholic's Church's Episcopal Palace in Melbourne, 1917-1981.

By the twentieth century, it was clear the Holy See was fighting a losing battle and in February 1966, Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) promulgated Apostolic Constitution Paenitemini (best translated as “to be penitent”) making abstinence from meat on Fridays optional outside Lent and retained only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday as obligatory fast days for Catholics.  It was a retreat very much in the corrosive spirit of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965) and an indication the Church was descending to a kind of “mix & match” operation, people able to choose the bits they liked, discarding or ignoring anything tiresome or too onerous.  In truth, plenty of priests had been known on Fridays to sprinkle a few drops of holy water on their steak and declare “In the name of our Lord, you are now fish”.  That was fine for priests but for the faithful, dispensation was often the “luck of clerical draw”.  At a time in the late 1940s when there was a shortage of good quality fish in south-east Australia, Sir Norman Gilroy (1896–1977; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Sydney 1940-1971, appointed cardinal 1946) granted dispensation but the stern Dr Daniel Mannix (1864–1963; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Melbourne 1917-1963) refused so when two politicians from New South Wales (Ben Chifley (1885–1951; prime minister of Australia 1945-1949) and Fred Daly (1912–1995)) arrived in the parliamentary dining room for dinner, Chifley’s order was: “steaks for me and Daly, fish for the Mannix men.”

In the broad, a carnival was an occasion, event or season of revels, merrymaking, feasting and entertainments (the Spanish fiestas a classic example) although they could assume a political dimension, some carnivals staged to be symbolic of the disruption and subversion of authority.  The idea was a “turning upside down of the established hierarchical order” and names used included “the Feast of Fools”, “the Abbot of Misrule” and “the Boy Bishop”.  With a nod to this tradition, in literary theory, the concept of “carnivalization” was introduced by the Russian philosopher & literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975), the word appearing first in the chapter From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse (written in 1940) which appeared in his book The Dialogic Imagination: chronotope and heteroglossia (1975).  What carnivalization described was the penetration or incorporation of carnival into everyday life and its “shaping” effect on language and literature.

The Socratic dialogues (most associated with the writing of the Greek philosophers Xenophon (circa 430–355 BC) and Plato (circa 427-348 BC)) are regarded as early examples of a kind of carnivalization in that what appeared to be orthodox “logic” was “stood on its head” and shown to be illogical although Menippean satire (named after the third-century-BC Greek Cynic Menippus) is in the extent of its irreverence closer to the modern understanding which finds expression in personal satire, burlesque and parody.  Bakhtin’s theory suggested the element of carnival in literature is subversive in that it seeks to disrupts authority and introduce alternatives: a deliberate affront to the canonical thoughts of Renaissance culture.  In modern literary use the usual term is “carnivalesque”, referring to that which seeks to subvert (“liberate” sometimes the preferred word) assumptions or orthodoxies by the use of humor or some chaotic element.  This can be on a grand scale (ie an entire cultural movement) or as localized some malcontent disrupting their book club (usually polite affairs where novels are read and ladies sit around talking about their feelings).

Portrait of Leo Tolstoy (1887), oil on canvas by Ilya Repin (1844-1930), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

He expanded on the theme in his book Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics (1929) by contrasting the novels of Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) and Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881).  Tolstoy’s fiction he classified as a type of “monologic” in which all is subject to the author's controlling purpose and hand, whereas for Dostoevsky the text is “dialogic” or “polyphonic” with an array of different characters expressing a variety of independent views (not “controlled” the author) in order to represent the author's viewpoint.  Thus deconstructed, Bakhtin defined these views as “not only objects of the author's word, but subjects of their own directly significant word as well” and thus vested with their own dynamic, being a liberating influence which, as it were, “conceptualizes” reality, lending freedom to the individual character and subverting the type of “monologic” discourse characteristic of many nineteenth century authors (typified by Tolstoy).

Portrait of Fedor Dostoyevsky (1872), oil on canvas by Vasily Perov (1834-1882), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

Dostoevsky’s story Bobok (1873) is cited as an exemplar of carnival.  It has characters with unusual freedom to speak because, being dead, they’re wholly disencumbered of natural laws, able to say what they wish and speak truth for fun.  However, Bakhtin did acknowledge this still is literature and didn’t claim a text could be an abstraction uncontrolled by the author (although such things certainly could be emulated): Dostoevsky (his hero) remained in control of his material because the author is the directing agent.  So, given subversion, literary and otherwise, clearly has a history dating back doubtlessly as many millennia as required to find an orthodoxy to subvert, why was the concept of carnivalization deemed a necessary addition to literary theory?  It went to the form of things, carnivalization able especially to subvert because it tended to be presented in ways less obviously threatening than might be typical of polemics or actual violence.

Ginger

Ginger (pronounced jin-jer)

(1) Any of several zingiberaceous plants of the genus Zingiber (especially Zingiber officinale of the East Indies), native to South Asia but now cultivated in many tropical countries and noted for the pungent, spicy rhizome used in cooking and medicine (Ginger is one of the oldest known “anti-seasickness treatments).

(2) The underground stem of this plant, used fresh or powdered as a flavouring or crystallized as a sweetmeat.

(3) The rhizome of Zingiber officinale, ground, chopped etc, used as a flavoring.

(4) In informal use, piquancy; animation; liveliness; vigour.

(5) A reddish-brown or yellowish-brown colour

(6) A female given name, form of Virginia or Regina (also used of red-headed men as a nickname).

(7) In zoology, a given name for animals having ginger- or orange-coloured fur or feathers.

(8) Flavored or made with ginger, the spicy rhizome of the Zingiber officinale plant.

(9) In informal use, someone with “red” hair (a range which includes the various shades of ginger).

(10) In cockney rhyming slang, a bit of a homosexual (based on “ginger beer” (ie “queer”)).

(11) In slang, Ginger ale, or can or bottle of such (especially if dry).

(12) In colloquial use in Scotland (prevalent especially in Glasgow), any fizzy soft drink, or can or bottle of such (especially the famous Iron Brew).

(13) To treat or flavor with ginger, the spicy rhizome of the Zingiber officinale plant (to add ginger to).

(14) In informal use, to impart piquancy or spirit to; enliven (usually in the form “ginger up”).

(15) As a regionalism, very careful or cautious (also, delicate; sensitive).

Pre 1000: From the Middle English gingere, an alteration of gingivere, from the Old English ginȝifer & ginȝiber (gingifer & gingiber) (influenced by Old French gingivre & gingembre), from the Medieval Latin gingiber & zingiber (the Latin zingiberi from the late Ancient Greek ζιγγίβερις (zingíberis)), from the Prakrit (Middle Indic) singabera, from the Sauraseni Prakrit śr̄ngaveram, the construct being śr̄nga- (horn) + vera- (body), an allusion to the typical shape of the plant’s root when harvested which may be compared with the Old Tamil iñcivēr and the Tamil இஞ்சிவேர் (iñcivēr), the construct being இஞ்சி (iñci) (ginger) + வேர் (vēr) (root)).  Not all etymologists agree with the orthodox derivation of śr̄ngaveram, suggesting it may be Sanskrit folk etymology and the word may be from an ancient Dravidian word that also produced the modern name for the spice used in the Tamil.  The dissidents argue the Tamil iñci must at some point have had an initial “ś” and the Sanskrit śṛṅgabera was an imitation of the (supposititious) Tamil ciñcivēr with the European zingiber coming from the Tamil name.  Ginger is a noun, gingerness & gingerliness are nouns, gingering is a verb, gingered is a verb & adjective, gingerish, singersome, gingerlike & gingerish are adjectives, gingerly is an adjective & adverb and gingerliness is an adverb; the noun plural is gingers. The adjectives ginger-free & gingerless are non-standard but have appeared on menus and in the software in restaurant PoS (point-of-sale systems).  The adjectives gingerer & gingerest do exist but are now so rare as to be archaic.

It’s believed the word re-entered Middle English under the influence of twelfth century Old French gingibre (which in Modern French endures as gingembre).  As a reference to coloring, the first recorded use was of fighting cocks, dating from 1785, extended to persons exactly a century later (although of hair alone it was used thus in the 1850s).  The sense of “spirit, spunk, temper” was a creation of mid nineteenth century US English. Ginger-ale was first advertised in the early 1820s, the term adopted by manufacturers to distinguish their product from ginger beer (on sale since 1809 and the central exhibit in Donoghue v Stevenson [1932] AC 562, a landmark case in tort law, heard before the House of Lords) which sometimes was fermented.  The ginger-snap was a hard cookie (biscuit in UK use) flavored with ginger, the product on sale by at least 1855.

Arnott’s Ginger Nuts.

In various forms and sold under several names (ginger-snap, ginger biscuit, ginger cookie, gingernut etc), ginger snaps are one of the planet’s most popular cookies (biscuits) and while ginger (usually powdered because it’s most suited to the industrial production of food) obviously is the common flavoring, other ingredients sometimes used include cinnamon, molasses and cloves.  The recipes vary although all tend to produce hard, brittle cookies and are much favoured by those who lie to dunk the things in their tea or coffee (softening it) which does seem to defeat the purpose but dunking really is a thing.  Between countries ginger-snaps differ greatly but even within markets there are culinary regionalisms: The Griffin’s Gingernut is New Zealand’s biggest selling biscuit and the whole country is supplied using the same recipe but in Australia, Arnott’s Ginger Nuts vary in size, color, hardness and taste between states and that was not a deliberate corporate decision but the product of M&A (mergers & acquisitions) activities beginning in the 1960s when the Arnott’s Group was created, a number of previously independent local bakeries absorbed; fearing a revolt, it was decided to retain the long-established recipes.  All Ginger Nut biscuits are sold in 250g packages but while WA (Western Australia), SA (South Australia) and the NT (Northern Territory) share a common “sweet” mixture, those living in Victoria and Tasmania enjoy an even sweeter flavour (closer to similar biscuits sold overseas which are both larger and softer in texture).  In NSW (New South Wales) and the ACT (Australian Capital Territory) a “thick and hard” Ginger Nut is sold and Queensland (always different) enjoys a unique “thin, sweet and dark” product.  Arnott’s also revealed as well as differences in the mix, the baking time varies between varieties, accounting for the color and hardness.  For those wishing to make comparisons, there’s a choice of comparatives: (“more ginger” or (the rare) “gingerer” and superlatives: “most ginger” or (the rare) “gingerest”.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1968) and her sister Ali (b 1993) making gingerbread houses on the Drew Barrymore (b 1975) Show (CBS Media Ventures), November, 2022.

The noun gingerbread was from the late thirteenth century gingerbrar (preserved ginger), from the Old French ginginbrat (ginger preserve), from the Medieval Latin gingimbratus (gingered,) from gingiber.  It was folk etymology which changed the ending to -brede (bread) and in that form the word was in use by the mid-1300s; by the fifteenth century it had come to mean “sweet cake spiced with ginger” although the still popular confection “gingerbread man” wasn’t known until circa 1850.  The figurative use (indicating anything thought fussy, showy or insubstantial) can be regarded a sort of proto-bling and emerged around the turn of the seventeenth century; in domestic architecture or interior decorating it was used as a critique by at least the late 1750s, use possibly influenced by the earlier “gingerbread-work” which was sailor’s slang for the often elaborately carved timberwork on ships.  Bling not then being in use, the term “gingerbread” often was used of the increasingly rococoesque detailing being applied to US cars by the late 1950s and it was revived as the interiors became “fitted out” in the 1970s although stylists (they weren’t yet “designers”) preferred “gorp”.  Decades before, as a noun, becoming Detroit styling studio slang, gorp was (as a verb) defined as meaning “greedily to eat” and it’s believed the alleged acronyms “good old raisins and peanuts” & “granola, oats, raisins, peanuts” are probably backronyms.  What the stylists were describing was the idea of “adding a bit of everything to the design”, the concept illustrated by creations such as the 1958 Buick, the design imperative of which was "combine as many as possible differently-shaped chrome bits & pieces".  Gorp intrinsically was "added on gingerbread" and shouldn't be confused with something like the 1958 Lincoln which was relative unadorned (ie un-gorped) and gained its distinctiveness from the design imperative "combine as many as possible shapes, curves, lines & scallops.  Of course, the two approaches can appear in unison, witness the 1961 Plymouths.

Some of Detroit's guesswork about public taste: 1958 Buick Limited (gingerbread, left), 1958 (Lincoln) Continental Mark III (shapes, right) and 1961 Plymouth Fury (everything, right).

The phrase “gin up” (enliven, make more exciting) is now often used as “gee-up” but the original was first recorded in 1887 (“ginning” (the act of removing seeds from cotton with a cotton gin) in use by at least 1825) and while it’s been speculated there may be some link with “gin” (in the sense of “engine”, the best known being the “cotton gin”) most etymologists think it improbable and think it more likely the origin lies in the characteristics if the root of the plant as used in food (spicy, pizzazz) and most compelling is the entry for feague (used in its equine sense): “...to put ginger up a horse's fundament, and formerly, as it is said, a live eel, to make him lively and carry his tail well; it is said, a forfeit is incurred by any horse-dealer's servant, who shall shew a horse without first feaguing him.”  The figurative use of feague (encouraging or spiriting one up) has faded but “gee up” remains common.”  So, for dressage or other equestrian competitions in which the judges liked to see a horse’s tail elegantly raised (al la the high ponytail perfected by the singer Ariana Grande (b 1993)), a stable-hand’s trick for achieving this was to insert an irritant (such as a piece of peeled raw ginger or a live eel) in its anus, an additional benefit being it “increased the liveliness of the beast”.  That means when modern young folk speak of “geeing up” or a “a gee up”, they’re referring (figuratively) to shoving some ginger up someone’s rectum; presumably, most are unaware of the linguistic tradition.

Ariana Grande and ponytail.

According to Ariana Grande, the “snatched high ponytail” she made her signature look was better described as a “high extension ponytail” because extensions were used for added length and volume.  It’s a dramatic look but the health and beauty site Self cautioned wearing the style is not risk-free and for some wearers pain may be unavoidable.  Interviewed, dermatologist Dr Samantha Conrad explained hair follicles are the “little pockets of skin that surround the root of a hair” while the “nerves and blood vessels in the scalp feed those roots”.  What happens when hair is pulled tightly back and elevated, it puts the hair “at a sharp angle”, placing “tension on the follicles”, causing “some strangulation of the unit”.  Because this tension is exerted on the nerve endings, there can be pain, something exacerbated if the hair is long and thick (or augmented with extensions) because the extent of the tension is so influenced by weight, physics dictating additional mass will induce greater “traction on the hair follicle”.  Pain obviously can be an issued but the consequences can be more serious, dermatologist Dr Joshua Zeichner explaining “chronic traction on the hair follicles can cause permanent thinning of the hair”, a phenomenon described as “traction alopecia”.

Ariana Grande, on stage, Coachella, November, 2018.

Ominous as all that sounds, the doctors say it’s not necessary entirely to abandon the high ponytail because the issue isn’t the style but the implementation, the critical factor being how tightly the hair is pulled from the scalp.  Tension alopecia can occur with any tightly-pulled ponytail, plait or braid so the trick is to avoid excessive tension, the recommended approach to create a “high pony” and then gradually loosen the area in front of the elastic.  Obviously, the greater the mass of the hair, physics  dictates it will be less inclined to retain a shape tending from the vertical at the scalp so those handling much volume will probably have to resort to some sort of at least semi-rigid tubular device through which the strands can pass to be supported.

Roland DG's 50 Shades of Ginger illustrates the extent to which the spectrum can spread (centre).  Natural redhead Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left) in 2012 illustrates a classic implementation of what most probably thing of as “ginger hair” while Jessica Gagen (b 1996; Miss England 2022, Miss World Europe 2023 & Miss United Kingdom 2024) appears (during heatwave, right) with what would be classified by many as a “light copper” rather than some hue of “ginger”.  Interestingly, reflecting the often disparaging use of the word (in the context of hair) “ginger” appears only infrequently on manufacturers' hair dye color charts.

Ginger can be used to describe those with “red” hair (a term which covers quite a range including shades of ginger in the conventional sense that is used of color) and such may be jocular, in disparagement or neutral.  In slang, a “ginger minger” was “an unattractive woman with ginger hair” and their “ginger minge” was their pubic hair; the male equivalent was a “ginger knob”.  In the hierarchy of vulgar slang, fire-crotch (a person who has red pubic hair) probably is worse but it should not be confused with “lightning crotch” (in obstetrics, the condition (suffered late in pregnancy), of having intense pain shoot through the vaginal area, induced especially by the baby's head lowering and bumping into the pelvis).  While a “normal symptom of pregnancy” and not typically a cause for medical intervention, it can be unpleasant; what is happening is the fetus is applying pressure on the cervix or the nerves surrounding the cervix (the cervix the lowest part of the uterus where a fetus develops).

One with a preference for ginger-haired souls could be said to be a gingerphile while one with an aversion would be a gingerphobe.  The matter of gingerphobia was explored by the US television cartoon show South Park (on Paramount+'s Comedy Central since 1997) in the episode Ginger Kids (season 9, episode 11, November 2005) in which was introduced the noun gingervitis (a portmenteau word, the construct being ginger +‎ (ging)ivitis); in pathology, the condition gingivitis is an inflammation of the gums or gingivae.  What South Park’s writers did was provide the gingerphobic with something of a rationale, gingervitis treating red headedness as if it were a disease or affliction.  Linguistically, it could have been worse: in German the synonym for gingivitis is the compound noun Zahnfleischentzündung and “zahnfleischentzündungvitis” sounds an even more distressing condition.  Neither gingerphobia nor gingervitis have ever appeared in the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the DSM, in nine editions 1952-2022). 

In Cockney rhyming slang (a cant used by Cockneys in which a word or phrase is replaced by a rhyming word or phrase, this word or phrase then often being abbreviated to its first syllable or syllables, or its first word with the word chosen as the rhyme sometimes sharing attributes with the word it replaces) “ginger” meant “a bit of a homosexual” (based on the “beer” in “ginger beer” (ie “queer”)).  If that didn’t please, there was also (1) “Brighton Pier” (queer from “pier”), (2) “iron” (poof from “iron hoof”), (3) “perry” (homo from “Como) (this was purely phonetic, the popular singer Perry Coma (1912-2001) was not gay) and (4) “haricot” (queen from “haricot bean).  However, the guides caution “stoke” (bent from “Stoke-on-Trent”) references “bent” in the sense of both “gay” and “criminal” so it should be deployed with care.

The modest root of the plant (partially sliced, top left) and some of the packaged confectionery which are ginger-based.

For a variety of purposes (culinary, zoological, botanical, geological etc, dozens of derived forms have been created including: African ginger, aromatic ginger, baby ginger, black ginger, bleached ginger, blue ginger, butterfly ginger, Canada ginger, Chinese ginger, Cochin ginger, common ginger, dry ginger, Egyptian ginger, gingerade, ginger ale, ginger beer, gingerbread, ginger bug, ginger cordial, gingerette, ginger grass, ginger group, ginger-hackled, Ginger Island, gingerism, gingerlike, gingermint, ginger ninja, ginger nut, gingernut, gingerol, gingerous, gingerphobe, gingerphobia, ginger-pop, ginger root, gingersnap, gingersome, ginger wine, gingery, gingette, green ginger, Indian ginger, Jamaica ginger, Japanese ginger, kahili ginger, knock down ginger, knock-knock ginger, limed ginger, mango ginger, new ginger, pinecone ginger, pink ginger, race ginger, red ginger, sand ginger, sea ginger, shampoo ginger, shell ginger, Siamese ginger, spiral ginger, spring ginger, stem ginger, stone-ginger, Thai ginger, torch ginger, white ginger, wild ginger, yellow ginger & young ginger.

In De materia medica (On Medical Material), his five volume encyclopedic pharmacopeia on herbal medicine and related medicinal substances, the Ancient Greek physician Pedanius Dioscorides (circa 40-circa 90) included an entry for ζιγγίβερις (zingiberis) (ginger) as treatment for stomach and digestive ailments, in addition to its properties as “a warming spice”.  The historian Pliny the Elder (24-79) also discussed zingiber, noting its origin from Arabia and India and the use in medicine, especially for the stomach and digestion.  The use was picked up by physicians (officially recognized and not) in many places, both as a stimulant and acarminative (preventing the development of gas in the digestive tract) but despite the persistent myth, no document has ever been unearthed which suggests in Antiquity ginger was ever recommended as “sea-sickness medicine”.  Despite that, in the modern age, ginger is sometimes promoted as a cure (or at least an ameliorant) for nausea suffered at sea, in flight, while driving or motion-sickness in general and there appears to be some evidence to support the use.

Google ngram for Ginger group: Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

In another example of why English (in some ways simple and logical) must seem bafflingly inconsistent to those learning the tongue, while “ginger up” and “ginger group” are phrases related to “imparting piquancy or enlivening someone or something”, to speak of proceeding “gingerly” means “acting hesitantly; with great caution”.  The explanation is the divergence is not the result of a word shifting meaning in two directions but instead two different etymologies converging phonetically in modern English.  The figurative sense of “ginger up” (familiar to the young as “gee up”) meaning “add energy or enthusiasm) emerged in the nineteenth century and came from the equestrian practice of putting ginger (or so some other irritants) in or near a horse’s anus so it would be more “spirited” (performing with greater verve or liveliness) and appear with its tail held high.  From this (the expression rather than stuff shoved in the rectum) came “ginger group” which described a (usually) small and energetic faction within a larger organization which aimed to stimulate or invigorate change or action.  The first known use of the term was in 1920s British politics.

Confusingly “gingerly” is unrelated to “ginger” and has nothing to do with novel uses of spice in equine management.  Developing in parallel with but separately from Middle English, gingerly was from the Old French gensor & gencier (which endures in Modern French as gentil (delicate; dainty), from the Latin gentilis.  Appending the suffix -ly turned adjective into adverb and by the sixteenth century gingerly came to mean “delicately, with grace or refinement” and by the early 1900s the idea of a “refined or dainty manner” evolved into “cautiously; with care”.  Gingerly is thus a “false cognate” with ginger (the spice).  There the linguistic tangle should end but because of the development of modern slang, “ginger” has established an (informal) link with “gingerly” through “gingerness” which can be both (1) a synonym for “gingerliness” (a gingerly state, attitude or behaviour and (2) in informal (sometimes derogatory) use: redheadedness.

Blazon

Blazon (pronounced bley-zuhn)

(1) In heraldry, an escutcheon or coat of arms or a banner depicting a coat of arms.

(2) In heraldry, a description (verbal or written or in an image) of a coat of arms.

(3) In heraldry, a formalized language for describing a coat of arms (the heraldic description of armorial bearings).

(4) An ostentatious display, verbal or otherwise.

(5) A description or recording (especially of the good qualities of a person or thing).

(6) In literature, verses which dwelt upon and described various parts of a woman's body (usually in admiration). 

(7) Conspicuously or publicly to set forth; display; proclaim.

(8) To adorn or embellish, especially brilliantly or showily.

(9) To depict (heraldic arms or the like) in proper form and color.

(10) To describe a coat of arms.

1275-1300: From the late thirteenth century Middle English blazon (armorial bearings, coat of arms), from the twelfth century Old French blason (shield, blazon (also “collar bone”).  Of the words in the Romance languages (the Spanish blason, Italian blasone, Portuguese brasao & Provençal blezo, the first two are said to be French loan-words and the origins of all remain uncertain.  According to the OED (Oxford English Dictionary), the suggestion by nineteenth century French etymologists of connections with Germanic words related to English blaze is dubious because of the sense disparities.  The verb blazon (to depict or paint (armorial bearings) dates from the mid sixteenth century and was either (or both) from the noun or the French blasonner (from the French noun).  In English, it had earlier in the 1500s been used to mean “descriptively to set forth; descriptively” especially (by at least the 1530s) specifically “to vaunt or boast” and in that sense it was probably at least influenced by the English blaze.  Blazon & blazoning are nouns & verbs, blazoner, blazonry & blazonment are nouns and blazoned & blazonable are adjectives; the noun plural is blazons.

A coat of arms, possibly of dubious provenance. 

The now more familiar verb emblazon (inscribe conspicuously) seems first to have been used around the 1590s in the sense of “extol” and the still common related forms (emblazoning; emblazoned) emerged almost simultaneously.  The construct of emblazon was en- +‎ blazon (from the Old French blason (in its primary sense of “shield”).  The en- prefix was from the Middle English en- (en-, in-), from the Old French en- (also an-), from the Latin in- (in, into).  It was also an alteration of in-, from the Middle English in-, from the Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in (in).  Both the Latin & Germanic forms were from the primitive Indo-European en (in, into).  The intensive use of the Old French en- & an- was due to confluence with Frankish intensive prefix an- which was related to the Old English intensive prefix -on.  It formed a transitive verb whose meaning is to make the attached adjective (1) in, into, (2) on, onto or (3) covered.  It was used also to denote “caused” or as an intensifier.  The prefix em- was (and still is) used before certain consonants, notably the labials “b” & “p”.

Google ngram: It shouldn’t be surprising there seems to have been a decline in the use of “blazon” while “emblazoned” has by comparison, in recent decades, flourished.  That would reflect matters of heraldry declining in significance, their appearance in printed materials correspondingly reduced in volume.  However, because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Self referential emblazoning: Lindsay Lohan's selfie of her modeling a sweater by Ashish, her visage emblazoned in sequins, London, November 2014.

Impressionistically though this assumption is, few would doubt “blazon” is now rare while “emblazoned” is far from uncommon.  While “emblazon” began with the meaning “that which the emblazoner does” (ie (1) to adorn with prominent, (2) to inscribe upon and (3) to draw a coat of arms) it evolved by the mid-nineteenth century with the familiar modern sense of “having left in the mind a vivid impression” (often in the form “emblazoned on one’s memory”).  In English, there’s nothing unusual in a derived or modified form of a word becoming common than its original root, even to the point the where the original is rendered rare, unfamiliar or even obsolete, a phenomenon due to changes in usage patterns, altered conventions in pronunciation or shifts in meaning that make the derived form more practical or culturally resonant.  That’s just how English evolves.

Other examples include (1) ruthless vs. ruth (ruth (pity; compassion) was once a common noun in Middle English but has long been extinct while ruthless, there being many who demand the description, remains popular), (2) unkempt vs kempt (kempt (neatly kept) would have been listed as extinct were it not for it finding a niche as a literary and poetic form and has also been used humorously or ironically), (3) disheveled vs sheveled (sheveled was from the Old French chevelé (having hair) and was part of mainstream vocabulary as late as the eighteenth century but, except in jocular use, is effectively non-existent in modern English) and (4) redolent vs dolent (redolent (evocative of; fragrant) was from dolent (sorrowful), from the Latin dolere (to feel pain)); redolent both outlived and enjoyed a meaning-shift from its root.

Etymologists think of these as part of the linguistic fossil record, noting there’s no single reason for the phenomenon beyond what survives being better adapted to cultural or conversational needs.  In that, these examples differ from the playful fork of back-formation which has produced (1) combobulate (a back-formation from discombobulate (to confuse or disconcert; to throw into a state of confusion) which was a humorous mock-Latin creation in mid-nineteenth century US English) (2) couth (a nineteenth century back-formation from uncouth and used as a humorous form meaning “refined”), (3) gruntled (a twentieth century back-formation meaning “happy or contented; satisfied”, the source being disgruntled (unhappy; malcontented) and most sources indicate it first appeared in print in 1926 but the most celebrated example comes from PG Wodehouse (1881–1975) who in The Code of the Woosters (1938) penned: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”  Long a linguistic joke, some now take gruntled seriously but for the OED remains thus far unmoved and (4) ept (a back-formation from inept (not proficient; incompetent or not competent (there is a functional difference between those two)) which was from the Middle French inepte, from the Latin ineptus).

Literary use

In literary use, “blazon” was a technical term used by the Petrarchists (devotes of Francis Petrarch (1304-1374), a scholar & poet of the early Italian Renaissance renowned for his love poems & sonnets and regarded also as one of the earliest humanists).  Blazon in this context (a subset of what literary theorists call “catalogue verse”) was adopted because, like the structured and defined elements of heraldic symbolism, Petrarch’s poems contained what might be thought an “inventory” of verses which dwelt upon and detailed the various parts of a woman's body; a sort of catalogue of her physical attributes.  Petrarch’s approach wasn’t new because as a convention in lyric poetry it was well-known by the mid thirteenth century, most critics crediting the tradition to the writings of Geoffrey of Vinsauf, a figure about whom little is although it’s believed he was born in Normandy.  In England the Elizabethan sonneteers honed the technique as a devotional device, often, in imaginative ways, describing the bits of their mistresses they found most pleasing, a classic example a fragment from Amoretti and Epithalamion (1595), a wedding day ode by the English poet Edmund Spenser (circa 1552-1599) to his bride (Elizabeth Boyle) in 1594:

Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining bright.
Her forehead ivory white,
Her cheeks like apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips like cherries charming men to bite,
Her breast like to a bowl of cream uncrudded,
Her paps like lilies budded,
Her snowy neck like to a marble tower,
And all her body like a palace fair.

Two bowls of cream uncrudded.

So objectification of the female form is nothing new and the poets saw little wrong with plagiarism, most of the imagery summoned salvaged from the works of Antiquity by elegiac Roman and Alexandrian Greek poets.  Most relied for their effect on brevity, almost always a single, punchy line and none seem ever to attempt the scale of the “epic simile”.  As can be imagined, the novelty of the revival didn’t last and the lines soon were treated by readers (some of whom were fellow poets) as clichés to be parodied (a class which came to be called “contrablazon”), the London-based courtier Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586) borrowing from the Italian poet Francesco Berni (1497–1535) the trick of using terms in the style of Petrarch but “mixing them up”, thus creating an early form of body dysmorphia: Mopsa's forehead being “jacinth-like”, cheeks of “opal”, twinkling eyes “bedeckt with pearl” and lips of “sapphire blue”.

William Shakespeare (1564–1616) however saw other possibilities in the blazon and in Sonnet 130 (1609) turned the idea on its head, listing the imperfections in her body parts and characteristics yet concluding, despite all that, he anyway adored her like no other (here rendered in a more accessible English):

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
   As any she belied with false compare.