Syncategorematic

Syncategorematic (pronounced sin-kat-i-gawr-uh-mat-ik or sin-kat-i-gor-uh-mat-ik)

(1) In traditional logic, of or relating to a word that is part of a categorical proposition but is not a term, as all, some, is (applying to expressions not in any of Aristotle's categories, but form meaningful expressions together with them, such as conjunctions and adverbs).

(2) In contemporary logic, of or relating to a word or symbol that has no independent meaning and acquires meaning only in the context of other words or symbols, as the symbol (or the word of).

1820–1830: From the Late Latin syncatēgorēmat-, stem of syncatēgorēma (part of a discourse that needs another word to become fully intelligible).  The construct was syn- +‎ categorematic.  The syn- prefix (used also as syl- (if preceding a “l” and sym- (if preceding a “b”, “m” or “p”) was from the Ancient Greek συν- (sun-), from σύν (sún) (with, in company with, together with) and may be compare with the Sanskrit सम्- (sam-).  It was appended to create forms with the meanings (1) identical, (2) with, together, or (3) concomitant.  Categorematic was from the Ancient Greek κατηγορῆμα (katēgorēma) (predicate; or something that is affirmed) from the verb κατηγορέω (katēgoreō) (to accuse, assert, or predicate).  The Latinized version of this root (categorema) was adopted by English and was the source of the familiar word “category” (and derivatives).  With the mix of Greek and Latin influences, syncategorematic is one of those words the more fastidious purists dislike.

The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  The construct of the –atic suffix was –at(e) +‎ -ic; it was a doublet of –age and an alternative form of –tic.  The -ic suffix was from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos & -ḱos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix -kos & -ḱos.  The form existed also in the Ancient Greek as -ικός (-ikós), in Sanskrit as -इक (-ika) and the Old Church Slavonic as -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); A doublet of -y.  In European languages, adding -kos to noun stems carried the meaning "characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to" while on adjectival stems it acted emphatically; in English it's always been used to form adjectives from nouns with the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  A precise technical use exists in physical chemistry where it's used to denote certain chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a higher oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ous; (eg sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  Used in linguistics (of a term), syncategorematic describes those terms which demand the appending of other terms to make a meaningful constituent of language; in th more arcane corners of the field, there are terms said to be (the comparative) “more syncategorematic” and (the superlative) most syncategorematic.  Syncategorematic & syncategorematical are adjectives, syncategoreme & syncategorematicity are nouns and syncategorematically is an adverb; the noun plural is syncategoremes or syncategorematicities (the latter apparently not in use).

Sentence: “The girl’s legs were under the table.”  The preposition “under” is syncategorematic because it describes the spatial relationship between her “legs” and the “table” but in isolation, “under” has no meaning.

It’s a long word and the definition might seem convoluted but in English syncategorematic words are in common, everyday use.  In traditional logic, it denotes a word unable to sustain useful meaning if standing alone but must be joined to a categorematic term in order to enter a categorical proposition; “some”, “and” & “all” are among those used most frequently.  In modern logic, the sense was extended to any symbol with no independent meaning.  Some terms which seem grammatically categorematic are often classed as syncategorematic, especially those which are in some way “value loaded” attributive adjectives (such as “good” or “large”).  Neither “good, nor “large” possess independent meaning whereas “red” and “is a Ferrari” are so vested; something can simply be “red” but it there is nothing which can be understood from “large” as a stand-alone term.  Meaning is attained only when something is added because the meaning comes from the sense of being relative-to-something (a “large bacterium” may be big enough to be the biggest bacterium ever seen but, comparatively, it’s nothing close to the size of a “large elephant”.

Sentence: “A girl is sitting on the floor.”  Both “a” and “the” are syncategorematic; they modify the nouns “girl” and “map” but do not, when standing alone, impart meaning.

The common examples of syncategorematic terms in English can be classified into a number of categories: (1) Logical Operators: (and, or, not, if, then) which structure logical relationships between propositions; (2) Articles: (the, a, an) which specify definiteness or indefiniteness but lack standalone meaning; (3) Prepositions: (in, on, at, by, with) which indicate relationships between nouns or pronouns but do not on their own impart meaning; (4) Conjunctions: (and, but, or, because) which connect clauses or ideas; (5) Quantifiers: (all, some, none, many, few) which express quantity or extent without referring to a specific entity; (6) Negations: (not, no) which modify the meaning of other terms or clauses and (7) Adverbs of Degree: (very, quite, somewhat, too) which modify adjectives or adverbs to indicate intensity or degree.

There are nuances in use such as the legendary exchange which gave language the word “laconic” (using few words; expressing much in few words).  In Antiquity, Laconia was the region inhabited and ruled by the Spartans, known for their brevity in speech and in English, the meaning “concise, abrupt” emerged in the 1580s (although laconical was created and went extinct a decade earlier).  The origin of this sense was when Philip II of Macedon (382–336 BC; king (basileus) of Macedonia 359-336) threatened the Spartans with the words: "If I enter Laconia, I will raze Sparta to the ground." to which the Spartans replied: "If.”  In that case, the meaning is derived from the context, a case in which “if” (usually syncategorematic) has meaning as a superficially single, stand-alone word.

Naiad

Naiad (pronounced ney-ad, ney-uhd or nahy-ad)

(1) In Classical Mythology, a nymph (a female deity) dwelling in (in some stories “presiding over”) a lake, river, spring or fountain.

(2) In entomology, aquatic larva or juvenile form of the dragonfly, damselfly, mayfly and related insects.

(3) In botany, any monocotyledonous submerged aquatic plant of the genus Naias (or Najas), having narrow leaves and small flowers (of the family Naiadaceae (or Najadaceae) and also called the water nymph.

(4) In malacology, any of certain freshwater mussels of the genus Unio.

(5) In informal use, a female swimmer, especially a young, expert one.

Circa 1600: From the Latin Nais, Naias & Nāïad- (stem of Nāïas, genitive naiadis), from the Ancient Greek Nāïás (plural Naiades) (a water nymph) and related to νάω (náō or náein) (to flow), from the primitive Indo-European naw-yo-, a suffixed form of snau & nau- (to swim, flow, let flow (from the primitive Indo-European root sna- (to swim).  The English poet, literary critic, translator and playwright John Dryden (1631–1700) used the Latin singular form Nais; In English, the plural form Naiades was in use as early as the late fourteenth century and the use of the initial capital was inconsistent, something not unusual in Middle and early Modern English .  Naiad is a noun; the noun plural is naiads or naiades.

The companion term (in the sense they were often riparian (growing on the bank of a river or stream)) was dryad (a female tree spirit), from the Old French driade (wood nymph), from the Latin Dryas & Dryadis, from the Ancient Greek Δρυάς (Druás) (dryad), from δρῦς (drûs) (oak), from the primitive Indo-European derew & derewo- (tree, wood) and related to the primitive Indo-European dóru (tree).  The niads should not be confused with the Nereids (plural Nereids or Nereides).  In Greek Mythology, Nerids were one of 50 sea nymphs who were attendants upon Poseidon (Neptune); they were represented riding on sea horses, sometimes in human form and sometimes with the tail of a fish.  In zoology, nerid is an alternative form of nereidid (any polychaete worm of the Nereididae).  Nereid was from the stem of the Latin Nērēis (sea-nymph), from the Ancient Greek Νηρηΐς (Nērēḯs), from Νηρεύς (Nēreús) (the sea-god Nereus).

Fuchsia Water Nymph.

The Naiads were water nymphs who, although very long-lived, were mortal, a physiology not unique among the deities of Classical Mythology and although the Naiads incarnate the divinity of the spring or stream which they inhabited, a waterway could be the home to more than one of the nymphs; presence did not confer an exclusivity of dominion.  As is typical of the myths, the stories often are inconsistent for although Homer said the Naiads were the daughters of Zeus, elsewhere they’re described as daughters of the waters in which they dwell.  The daughters of Ασωπός (Asopus) were Naiads.  Asopus (Ασωπός) was the god of the river Asopus and (the family tree is typically murky and varies with the source) was either son of Poseidon & Pero, of Zeus & Eurynome or of Oceanus & Tethys.  He married Metope, the daughter of Ladon, fathered two sons (Ismenus and Pelagon) and an impressive 20 daughters although The Greek historian of the first century BC, Διόδωρος (Diodorus of Sicily) listed the names only of a dozen (Corcyra, Salamis, Aegina, Pirene, Cleone, Thebe, Tanagra, Thespia, Asopis, Sinope, Oenia (or Ornia) and Chalcis.  Confusingly Asopus is in other places mentioned as the said to be the father of Antiope and Plataea (that genealogy contested by other authors), after whom the city Plataea is named.  Plataea was a city-state in Boeotia at the foot of Mount Cithaeron, between the mountain and the river Asopus (which divided its territory from that of Thebes).  The modern Greek town of Plataies is adjacent to its ruins.

Led astray by freshwater sirens: Hylas and the Nymphs (1896), oil on canvas by the aptly named John William Waterhouse (1849–1917), Manchester Art Gallery, England.  Ύλας (Hylas) would not long live to enjoy his flirtation with a pack of Naiads.  Much taken by his beauty, the naiads lured the youth to the water for their pleasure, after which, according to the Roman Poet Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso; 43 BC–17 AD), they drowned him; at the least, that suggests ingratitude.  Hylas may have died content but that's not something on which Ovid dwelt.

In theory, there shouldn't be a river or spring without at least one naiad but the storied ones were those associated with famous waterways and many of the nymphs had adventures (not always welcome) with the good, great and ghastly.  At Syracuse dwelt the beautiful Αρέθουσα (Arethusa; all nymphs were beauties but Arethusa was a supermodel among the breed), a companion of Αρτεμις (Artemis) who was identified by the Romans with Diana.  Some said she was the daughter of Demeter, but in most stories she was the twin sister of Apollo, their parents being Zeus and Leto.  One day, while swimming in the river (something which, unsurprisingly, the Naiads often did), Arethusa realized she wasn’t alone when she heard the voice of Alpheus, the god of the river, whose crush on her had developed into a passion which included stalking her.  Pursued by the lustful god, the nymph fled, crying out for Artemis to save her from what she knew would be an awful fate.  Artemis surrounded her in a concealing fog but Alpheus refused to leave the place where the mist swirled and in fright, Arethusa turned into a fountain.  In the way the myths handle the physics of such circumstances, the earth opened up to prevent Alpheus mingling his own waters with those of the spring which Arethusa had become, and, guided by Artemis, Arethusa went through underground channels to Syracuse, on the Island of Ortygia (which is dedicated to Artemis).  This Hellenistic myth is preferred by most but another version of the attempted sexual assault involves Αλφειός (Alpheus, (another river god)) which differs only in detail.

Lindsay Lohan, as a Naiad, surfacing from her spring.

The Naiads were often claimed to possess powers of healing and the notion of “curing waters” persists into the twenty-first century; although some of this is quackery there is a scientific basis in some cases and the origin of the use of lithium as an early anti-depressant was physicians in Ancient Greek noting the drinking of waters from a certain place “cured men of melancholy”.  Those waters turned out to have a pharmacologically significant lithium content.  However, not all naiads could be used so efficaciously because bathing in certain springs or rivers could be considered sacrilegious, even if it was someone exulted taking a dip.  Nero (Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus (37-68; Roman emperor (and the final emperor of the Julio-Claudian dynasty) 54-68)) was attacked by fever and some sort of partial paralysis and after bathing in the source of the Aqua Marcia and the Roman scuttlebutt was he’s incurred the displeasure of the Naiads, something which brought Nero’s subjects some delight.  Clearly, one upset a Naiad a one’s own risk because it was said also they could visit madness upon those who laid eyes on them, the nymphs possessing the mortal spirit of a transgressor and driving them to insanity.  For this reasons, travelers were warned (the Trip Advisor concept is not new) Naiads were particularly numerous in the Péloponnèse, a place of many waterways.

Quincunx

Quincunx (pronounced kwing-kuhngks or kwin-kuhngks)

(1) An arrangement of five objects, in a square or rectangle, one at each corner and one in the middle.

(2) In formal gardening, five plants placed thus as part of a design,

(3) In forestry, as a baseline pattern, five trees planted in such a shape.

(4) In botany, an overlapping arrangement of five petals or leaves, in which two are interior, two are exterior, and one is partly interior and partly exterior (described as a “quincuncial arrangement” of sepals or petals in the bud.

(5) The pattern of the five-spot on dice, playing cards and dominoes.

(6) In the history of numismatics, a bronze coin minted during the Roman Republic, valued at five-twelfths of an as (five times the value of the uncia); it was marked with five dots.

(7) In geometry, an angle of five-twelfths of a circle.

(8) In astrology An angle of five-twelfths of a circle (or 150°) between two objects (usually planets).

1640s: From the Latin quīncunx (the basis for the construct being quīnque +‎ uncia) which translates literally as “five twelfths”, a reference to a bronze coin minted (circa 211–200 BC) with a five dot pattern and issued by the Roman Republic; it was valued at five twelfths of an as (the Roman standard bronze coin).  Descendants from the Latin include the English quincunx, the French quinconce, the German Quinkunx, the Spanish quincunce and the Portuguese quincunce.  Quinque (the numeric five (5)) was from the From Proto-Italic kwenkwe, from the primitive Indo-European pénkwe, the cognates including the Sanskrit पञ्चन् (páñcan), the Ancient Greek πέντε (pénte), the Old Armenian հինգ (hing), the Gothic fimf and the Old English fīf (from which English ultimately gained “five”).  The basis of the construct of the Latin uncia may have been ūnicus (unique) (from ūnus (one), from the primitive Indo-European óynos) in the sense of twelfths making up the base unit of various ancient systems of measurement) +‎ -ia.  Not all etymologists agree and some prefer a link with the Ancient Greek ὀγκία (onkía) (uncia), from ὄγκος (ónkos) (weight).  Uncia was the name of various units including (1) the Roman ounce (one-twelfth of a Roman pound), (2) the Roman inch (one-twelfth of a Roman foot), (3) a bronze coin minted by the Roman Republic (one-twelfth of an as), (a Roman unit of land area (one-twelfth of a jugerum)) and in the jargon of apothecaries became a synonym of ounce (the British & American avoirdupois unit of mass); it was generally a synonym of twelfth.  In algebra, it was a (now obsolete) numerical coefficient in a binomial.  Quīnque was the source of many modern Romance words for “five” including the French cinq and the Spanish cinco; uncia was the source of both “inch” and “ounce”.  Quincunx is a noun, quincuncial is an adjective and quincuncially is an adverb; the noun plural is quincunxes or quincunces.

Quincunx garden, Wyken Hall, Suffolk, England.

When first it entered English in the 1640s, “quincunx” existed only in the vocabulary of astrologers (astrology then still a respectable science) and it was used to describe planetary alignments at a distance of five signs from one another.  By the 1640s it had migrated to mathematics (particularly geometry) where it was used to define “an arrangement of five objects in a square, one at each corner and one in the middle”, familiar in the five pips on a playing card or spots on a di).  In the 1660s (possibly from dice or cards rather than the fortune-tellers), it was picked up by gardeners to describe the layout of a section of a formal garden in which one plant or shrub was placed at each corner of a square or rectangle with a fifth exactly in the centre (an arrangement in two sets of oblique rows at right angles to each other, a sense known also in the original Latin.  In forestry, use began (as a layout tool for new plantings) early in the eighteenth century.

Lindsay Lohan (born 2 July 1986) joins a list of the illustrious with a Mercury Quincunx MC (a planetary alignment where Mercury is 150^o apart from the Medium Coeli (a Latin phrase which translates as “Midheaven” (“MC” in the jargon of astrologers).  In explaining the significance of the Quincunx MC, the planetary soothsayers note than when two planets lie 150^o apart, “tension is created due to their lack of natural understanding or relation.”  The MC is the point where the cusp of the tenth house is found on a natal (birth) and the MC sign signifies  “one’s public persona”.  Now we know.

Fluffy dice in 1974 Ford Mustang II (left), the color of the dashboard molding emblematic of what was happening in the 1970s.    In continuous production over seven generations since 1964, the Mustang II (1973-1979) is the least fondly remembered iteration (uniquely among Mustangs, in its first season a V8 engine was not even optional) but, introduced some weeks before the first oil embargo was imposed in 1973, it was a great sales success and exceeded the company’s expectations.  Unlike at least some of the models in all other generations, the Mustang II is a classic “Malaise era” car and not a collectable in the conventional sense of the word although they do have a residual value because the front sub-frame with its rack & pinion steering and flexible engine accommodation is prized for all sort of purposes and many have been cannibalized for this assembly alone.  Fluffy dice are available also in designer colors (right) and as well as the familiar dots, there are some with hearts, skulls, handguns, eyes and dollar signs.  Probably, the Mustang II and fluffy dice are a perfect match.

Although the five-dot pattern on a di is known in the industry as the quincunx, the other five faces enjoy rather more prosaic descriptions and most just use the number:

1 (single dot, at the center of the face): The “center dot” or “monad”.

2 (two dots, diagonally opposite each other): The “diagonal pair”.

3 (three dots, forming a diagonal line): The “diagonal trio”.

4 (four dots, arranged in a square pattern: The “square” or “quadrant”.

6 (six dots, arranged in two parallel vertical lines of three dots each): The “double row” or “paired trios”.

US Army five star insignia of (General of the Army) Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961).

The quincunx was one of the layouts considered in 1944 when, for the first time, the US military created five star ranks in the army and navy (there would not be a separate USAF (US Air Force) until 1947).  Eventually a pentagrammatic circle of stars was preferred but the aesthetics of epaulettes were the least of the problems of protocol, the military been much concerned with history and tradition and the tangle wasn’t fully combed out until 1976 when the Congress, the White House, and the Pentagon, acting in succession, raised George Washington (1732–1799; first president of the United States, 1789-1797) to the rank of five star general (he’d retired as a (three star) lieutenant general), back-dating the appointment so he’d for all time be the military’s senior officer.  In 1944, there was also an amusing footnote which, according to legend, resulted in the decision to use the style “general” and not “Marshal” (as many militaries do) because the first to be appointed was George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) and it was thought “Marshal Marshall” would be a bit naff, something Joseph Heller’s (1923-1999) “Major Major” in Catch-22 (1961) would prove.

The quincunx induction system, the Cadillac Le Monstre and the 24 Heures du Mans, 1950

Living up to the name: The 1950 Cadillac Le Monstre.

The two Cadillacs which in 1950 raced at Le Mans were mechanically similar but visually, could have been from different planets.  The more conventional Petit Pataud was a Series 61 coupe with only minor modification and it gained its nickname (the translation “clumsy puppy” best captures the spirit) because to the French it looked a lumbering thing but, as its performance in the race would attest, Cadillac’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 (which would grow to 429 cubic inches (7.0 litres) before it was retired in 1967) meant it was faster than it looked.  Underneath the second entrant (Le Monstre obviously needing no translation but used in the sense of “monstrosity” rather than “large”) there was also a Series 61 but the body had been replaced by something more obviously aerodynamic although few, then or now, would call it “conventionally attractive”.  Although Le Monstre seemed very much in the tradition of the “cucumber-shaped” Mercedes-Benz SSKL which had won the 1932 race at Berlin’s unique AVUS circuit, the lines were the result of testing a one twelfth (Uncia in the Latin) scale wooden model in a wind-tunnel used usually to optimize the shape crop dusters and other slow-flying airplanes.  Presumably that explains the resemblance to a section of an airplane’s wing (a shape designed to encourage lift), something which would have been an issue had higher speeds been attained but even on the long (6 km (3.7 mile)) Mulsanne Straight, there was in 1950 enough power only to achieve around 210 km/h (130) mph although as a drag-reduction exercise it must have contributed to the 22 km/h (13 mph) advantage it enjoyed over Petit Pataud, something Le Monstre’s additional horsepower alone could not have done and remarkably, even with the minimalist aluminium skin it wasn’t much lighter than the standard-bodied coupe because this was no monocoque; the robust Cadillac chassis was retained with a tube-frame added to support the panels and provide the necessary torsional stiffness.

Le Monstre's 331 cubic inch V8 with its unusual (and possibly unique) five-carburetor induction system in a quincunx layout.

Some of the additional horsepower came from the novel "quincunx" induction system.  Le Monstre’s V8 was configured with five carburettors, the idea being that by use of progressive throttle-linkages, when ultimate performance wasn’t required the car would run on a single (central) carburettor, the other four summoned on demand and in endurance racing, improved fuel economy can be more valuable than additional power.  That’s essentially how most four-barrel carburettors worked, two venturi usually providing the feed with all four opened only at full throttle and Detroit would later refine the model by applying “méthode Le Monstre” to the triple carburettor systems many used between 1957-1971.  As far as is known, the only time a manufacturer flirted with the idea of a five carburetor engine was Rover which in the early 1960s was experimenting with a 2.5 (153 cubic inch) litre in-line five cylinder which was an enlargement of their 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) four.  Fuel-injection was the obvious solution but the systems then were prohibitively expensive (for the market segment Rover was targeting) so the prototypes ended up with two carburettors feeding three cylinders and one the other two, an arrangement as difficult to keep in tune as it sounds.  Rover’s purchase of the aluminium 3.5 litre (214 cubic inch) V8 abandoned by General Motors (GM) meant the project was terminated and whatever the cylinder count, mass-produced fuel injection later made any configuration possible.  Five carburettors wasn’t actually the highest count seen in the pre fuel-injection era, Ferrari and Lamborghini both using six (done also by motorcycle manufacturers such as Honda and Benelli) and Moto-Guzzi in the 1950s fielded a 500 cm³ Grand-Prix bike with the memorable component count of 8 cylinders, 4 camshafts, 16 valves & 8 carburetors.  The early prototypes of Daimler’s exquisite hemi-head V8s (1959-1969) were also built with eight carburettors because the original design was based on a motorcycle power-plant, the reason why they were planned originally as air-cooled units.

Le Monstre ahead of Petit Pataud, Le Mans, 1950.  At the fall of the checkered flag, the positions were reversed. 

Motor racing is an unpredictable business and, despite all the effort lavished on Le Monstre, in the 1950 Le Mans 24 hour, it was the less ambitious Petit Pataud which did better, finishing a creditable tenth, the much modified roadster coming eleventh having lost many laps while being dug from the sand after an unfortunate excursion from the track.  Still, the results proved the power and reliability of Cadillac’s V8 and Europe took note: over the next quarter century a whole ecosystem would emerge, crafting high-priced trans-Atlantic hybrids which combined elegant European coachwork with cheap, powerful, reliable US V8s, the lucrative fun lasting until the first oil crisis began in 1973.

Soiree

Soiree (pronounced swah-rey)

(1) An evening party or social gathering.

(2) Used loosely, a party or social gathering held at any time.

1793: from the French soirée (evening activity), the construct being the tenth century Old French soir (evening; night (from the Latin adverb sērō (late; at a late hour) which originally was an ablative of sērus) from sērum (a late time), from sērus (late), from the primitive Indo-European se-ro- (a suffixed form of the root se- (long, late) and the source also of the Sanskrit sayam (in the evening), the Lithuanian sietuva (deep place in a river), the Old English sið (after), the German seit (since), the Gothic seiþus (late), the Middle Irish sith and the Middle Breton hir (long)) + -ée (from the Latin –āta (feminine of –ātus) (the –ate suffix in English).  In French, the feminine suffix –ée was joined to nouns to make nouns expressing the quantity contained in the original noun and thus also relations of times (journée, matinée, année et al) or objects produced.  There was also the nineteenth century swarry, a coining for jocular effect representing the English pronunciation.  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  In German the spelling is Soirée (plural Soiréen), the synonym being Abendgesellschaft (party held in the evening).  In English, the French soirée is now listed by most sources as an alternative spelling (a la café & cafe).  Soiree is a noun; the noun plural is plural soirees.

In English, strictly speaking, because of the origin in French (soir (evening) familiar in the greeting bon soir (good evening, a time specific way of saying “hello”)), a soiree is a social gathering held in the evening but it has long been used loosely and there have been many soirees held early in the day.  It can be debated whether there’s now an additional meaning (social gathering) or the real meaning is just being ignored but the word is certainly something of a middle-class favourite and it’s not unknown to receive an invitation to an “evening soiree” or “night time soiree” which may be tautological but the meaning shift is probably here to say.  The word is also used with modifiers to make the nature of an event clear (musical soiree; boho soiree, élite soiree; jubilee soiree; birthday soiree etc).

The successful soiree

Some etiquette guides devote entire chapters to the tricks and techniques which make a soiree a success, focusing on food, settings, surroundings and the guest list (who sits next to whom something of an art) and the most structured and demanding event is probably that classic of evening entertaining: the dinner party.  The catering arrangements obviously are critical but the consideration of other matters is also a minor linguistic feast: 

It’s best to avoid inviting the malesuete (“accustomed to poor habits”, an archaic adjective from the Latin malesuētus, the construct being male (badly; poorly) + suētus (past participle of suēscere (to become accustomed; to be used to)) because they tend to be “unaccustomed to good behaviour” and thus won’t fit in.  That doesn’t mean they’re ostracized by all because in their circles (composed of other other malesuete types) there are also soirees for them to enjoy.  Should there be some sort of filing error and a malesuete guest is at the table, all one can hope is that there’s only one of them because in pairs they’ll almost always constult (“to act stupidly together”, a verb from the Latin constult, the construct being con- (together) + stultus (foolish; fool)); they will encourage each other.  However, even the usually well-mannered can become malesuetesque when peloothered (“drunk, thoroughly intoxicated”, an adjective coined by James Joyce (1882–1941), possibly from Hiberno-English as a humorous dialectal corruption of blootered (“drunk”, an informal term in Scots English also meaning or polluted) so if possible research the effect of strong drink on potential invitees.  A caution like “drinks like a fish” need not of necessity mean someone must be chucked because there are amiable and amusing drunks but they may only make it to the reserve (last resort) list.

Deipnosophistry in practice: Lindsay Lohan at the Fox News table, White House Correspondents' Association annual dinner, a soiree at which there is much table talk, Washington DC, April 2012. 

Among the most desirable of those for a dinner party are deipnosophists (“those noted for their sparkling dinner-table conversation”, a noun from the Ancient Greek Δειπνοσοφισταί (Deipnosophistaí), the title of a literary work in fifteen volumes (translated usually as something like “philosophers at their dinner table”) by the third century scholar Athenaeus of Naucratis, describing learned discussions at a banquet, the construct being δειπνο- (deipno-) (meal) + σοφιστής (sophistḗs).  The plural of sophistḗs was sophistaí and the sense used by Athenaeus was one of “wise men knowledgeable in matters of art & science”.  A deipnosophist will never raise matters nefandous (“too odious to be spoken of”, an adjective from Latin nefandus, the construct being from ne- (in the sense of “not”) + fandus, gerundive of fārī (to speak) ao while they may think the unthinkable they’ll never speak the unspeakable.  If there is a guest who is particularly sensitive about some topic which usually is innocuous, it’s acceptable (and often advisable) quietly to advise to the others the matter is tacenda (“a thing not to be mentioned; a subject to be passed over in silence”, a noun from the Latin tacenda, future passive participle of taceo (to be silent, say nothing, to hold one's tongue).

Because of the physical layout of a dinner party (gathered together closely around a table) it’s not possible for a shy guest actually to latibulate (“to retreat and hide oneself in a corner”, a verb from the Latin, the construct being latibulum (hiding place) +‎ -ate (the verb-forming suffix), from lateō (to lie hidden) +‎ -bulum (the nominal suffix denoting instrument)) but there can be some (even the usually talkative) who for whatever reason become on the night taciturn (“tendency habitually to be silent”, a noun ultimately from the fifteenth century French taciturne, from the Latin taciturnus (not talkative; noiseless, quiet, maintaining silence), from tacitus (silent) & tacēre (to be silent).  Tempting though it is to ply them with alcohol (which can “loosen the tongue”), that’s a tactic not without risk and it’s recommended that if possible, a pretext is found to change the seating plan, re-allocating them a spot next to someone they might find more convivial.  At a small table, this will likely have no effect.  If on a second occasion a guest’s taciturnity is noted as truly as habitual, it may be they are deipnophobic (one who suffers the social anxiety deipnophobia (fear of eating in public)); don’t invite them again.

Advesperate: A set table, ready for a soiree.  The construct of advesperate (to draw towards evening) was the Latin ad- (to) + vesper. (evening; the evening meal) from the Proto-Italic wesperos, from the primitive Indo-European wek-w-speros, the cognates including the Ancient Greek ἕσπερος (hésperos), the Old Church Slavonic вєчєръ (večerŭ) and the Old Armenian գիշեր (gišer).  In the liturgical orders of Christianity (and always in the plural "vespers"), it's the sixth of the seven canonical hours (an evening prayer service).

There are also those who may be good conversationalists but exhibit some bad habits which are not good to display at dinner parties (although many are close to obligatory at the beer & bourbon soaked malesuete soirees).  They may obganiate (“to cause irritation by reiteration” (ie to annoy by repeating over and over and over and over…”, a verb from the Italian ostinato (obstinate, persistent), a variant of which is the act of epizeuxis (“the repetition of a word with vehemence and emphasis”, a noun from the Modern Latin epizeuxis, from the Ancient Greek ἐπίζευξις (epízeuxis) (a fastening upon), from ἐπιζευγνύναι (epizeugnúnai), the construct being ἐπί (epí) (upon) + ζευγνύναι (zeugnúnai) (to yoke).  As a rhetorical technique, an epizeuxis can be an effective way to make a point but at a dinner party it should never be accompanied by a dactylodeiktous gesture (“pointed at with a finger”, an adjective from the Ancient Greek, the construct being δάκτυλος (dáktylos) (finger) + δεικτός (deiktós), from the verb δείκνυμι (deíknumi) (to show; to point out) + -ous (the suffix indicating an adjective or descriptive quality).  When noticing such things, a host should adopt the demeanour of a discountenancer (“one who discourages with cold looks to convey disapproval”, a noun from the French décontenancer, from the Middle French descontenancer).

Not a residentarian: Crooked Hillary Clinton in blue pantsuit leaving (early) the soiree planned to celebrate her victory in the 2016 US presidential election, Manhattan, New York, November 2016.

Also tiresome at such a soiree those who beyelp (loudly to talk of, boast of, glory in”, a verb from the Middle English beyelpen, from the Old English beġielpan (to boast) and tend to speak in rodomontades (vainglorious boasting or bragging; pretentious, bluster”, a noun from the Middle French rodomontade, the construct being the Italian Rodomonte (name of the boastful Saracen king of Algiers in two Italian Renaissance epic poems + the Middle French –ade (the suffix used to form nouns denoting action, or a person performing said action), from the Occitan -ada, from the Latin -ata.  In dialectal Italian the name means literally “one who rolls (away) the mountain” (clipped also to “roll-mountain”).  Fortunately, such types are usually elozable (“readily influenced by flattery”, an archaic adjective coined in the sixteenth century the construct obscure but believed to be elo- (from the Latin eloqui (to speak out) + -zable (a variant of the suffix –able (denoting capability or possibility) with the inserted “z” presumably a phonetic convenience.  To deal with such guests, one may need to heterophemize (“to say something different from what you mean to say”, a verb from the Ancient Greek, the construct being hetero-, from the ἕτερος (heteros) (other; different) +-phem-, from φημί (phēmi) (to speak; to say) + -ize (a suffix conveying the notion of “to make; to do” or “to perform the act of”) which is OK because it’s been done before and at some dinner parties in polite society conversations are conducted with little else.  One will though need eventually to be more direct with the residentarian (“a person who is given to remaining at table”, a modern English noun, the construct being resident +arian (the suffix a back-formation from various words ending in “arian”, some directly derived from Classical or Medieval Latin words ending in -arius by adding “-an” to the stem, other indirectly via Old French words ending in “arien(ne)” or “erien(ne)” or from English words ending in “ary” to which “-an” was suffixed.  It was used to create nouns in the sense of (1) a believer in something, (2) an advocate of something or (3) a native or inhabitant of somewhere.  The next day, when reviewing yesterneve (“yesterday evening”, a noun, the construct being yester(day) + -n- + eve(ning), decide which guest must be chucked (never again to be invited) and which adorned the table and thus to be added to the xenium list (“a gift given to a guest”, a noun from the Latin xenium (a gift given to guests or foreign ambassadors, often of food, in Ancient Greece or Rome), from the  Ancient Greek ξένιον (xénion) from the Ionic.

Floccinaucinihilipilification

Floccinaucinihilipilification (pronounced flok-suh-naw-suh-nahy-hil-uh-pil-uh-fi-key-shuhn)

(1) The estimation of something as valueless.

(2) The act or habit of describing or regarding something as unimportant, of having no value or being worthless.

1735–1745: Apparently a coinage by pupils of Latin at England’s Eton College (a public (ie private)), the intent jocular but also something of an exercise in the pleonastic and tautological, the construct built (with the odd phonetic substitution or insertion) from the Latin words floccus (a wisp) + naucum (a trifle) +‎ nihilum (nothing) +‎ pilus (a hair) + -fication.  The elements (floccī + naucī + nihilī + pilī) all conveyed the notion “of little or no value, trifling”.  The -fication suffix was an alternative form of -ification, from the Middle English -ificacioun (ending on words generally borrowed whole from Old French), from the Old French -ification, from the Latin -ficātiō, a noun ending which appears on action nouns formed using the suffix -tiō (the English -tion) from verbs ending in -ficō (English -ify).   It was used to convey the idea of “the process of becoming” and was used in words of French or Latin origin, but in the last half-century the forms have become highly productive in English and the choice between -fication & -ification tends to be dictated by the resultant ease of pronunciation although when applying the suffix -ation to a verb ending in -ify, -ification is used instead of the expected -ifiation.  Modern forms like nerdification (the process of making or becoming nerdy) and hipsterfication (the process of making or becoming a hipster or characteristic of hipsters) have proliferated.  Floccinaucinihilipilification is a noun, floccinaucinihilipilificatious is an adjective and floccinaucinihilipilificate, floccinaucinihilipilificated & floccinaucinihilipilificating are verbs; the noun plural is floccinaucinihilipilifications (which some deny exists).

Modern reprint of the Eton Latin Grammar (1887) by Arthur Campbell Ainger (1841-1919).

Bored or baffled pupils in Latin class presumably coined many fake Latin words and it’s the longest, funniest or most vulgar which tended to survive.  At a hefty (by the conventions of English and most languages) 29 letters, floccinaucinihilipilification certainly is long and also enjoys the distinction of being the longest “non-technical” (ie not from medicine, physics etc) word in English although as something used to convey meaning (the very purpose of language), knowing the word does in itself seem floccinaucinihilipilificatious and for those who want more, that adjectival back-formation is lengthier still at a 30 character count.  Both trump that other schoolboy favorite antidisestablishmentarianism (opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established (state) church) which manages with 28 and attempts to claim the noun antidisestablishmentarianismist (31) exists have always been dismissed.  Etymologists believe the inventive pupils were inspired by a line which appears in various editions of William Lily's (circa 1468–1522) Latin grammars, one of which was the Eton Latin Grammar in which was listed a number of nouns commonly used in the genitive case with some verbs like pendo and facio expressing the idea of evaluating something as worthless.

Floccinaucinihilipilification: Trends of use.

To say the word is rare is stating the obvious but statistically, use spiked after the spread of the internet and that’s because of all the lists of long, bizarre or obscure words, Google’s ngrams increasing the count every time another one was created or shared.  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.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

Despite appearing on all those lists, by the twenty-first century, actual (ie “real”) use had been so infrequent that to call it “archaic” was misleading but indisputably it was old and that had much appeal for Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg (b 1969) an English politician who between 2010-2024 sat in the House of Commons, rising to become Lord President of the Council and later a member of cabinet in the memorable administration of Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022).  As one who deliberately affects an archaic style, Sir Jacob’s amused colleagues soon dubbed him “the honourable member for the eighteenth century” and he made plain his disdain for much of what modernity has delivered (the EU (European Union), the Labour Party, working class people with ideas above their station, pop music etc) and in gratitude for his stellar service, Sir Jacob was created a Knight Bachelor in Mr Johnson’s resignation honours list (which was as entertaining as any in living memory).  Because the Knight Bachelor is the most ancient of the UK’s many classes of knighthood, that would have pleased him but it’s also low in the pecking order (the “order of precedence” which dictates critical things like where one gets to sit (and, more to the point, next to whom) at certain dinners, church services and such) so that would not.  It ranks below all the knighthoods which are part of the organized orders of chivalry (the Garter, the Thistle, the Bath, the Star of India et al) and unlike the chivalric orders, does not confer any entitlement to the use of post-nominal letters, the form “KB” not used (except in historic reference) after 1815 when knighthoods in the order of the Bath (1725) were reorganized as Knight Grand Cross (GCB) & Knight Commander (KCB).  Still, he picked up the right to be styled “the honorable” when his father (William Rees-Mogg, 1928-2012) was in 1988 created a life peer and when in 2019 he was appointed to the Privy Council, he gained for life the style “The Right Honourable” so there was that.

The Right Honourable Sir Jacob Rees Mogg PC, attending the funeral of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), London, 19 September 2019.

In 2012, Sir Jacob spoke the word “floccinaucinihilipilification” in a debate in the House of Commons, his topic being what he asserted was in the nation a common opinion of the EU and, helpfully, told the house it meant “the habit of regarding something as worthless”.  The 29 letter monster remains the longest word ever to appear in Hansard (a record of parliamentary proceedings) although someone did manage to use pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (a factitious 45 letter creation said to mean “a lung disease caused by inhalation of very fine silica dust usually found in volcanos”) when appearing before a select committee (not being on the floor of the house it didn’t make the Hansard).  An opportunist extension of the medical term pneumonoconiosis, it was coined during the proceedings of the National Puzzlers' League convention in 1935 in an attempt to create English’s longest word but was dismissed by dictionaries as fake, clinicians and textbooks still referring to the disease as pneumonoconiosis, pneumoconiosis, or silicosis.  British dictionaries may feel compelled to include antidisestablishmentarianism but many overseas publications do not, on the basis there’s hardly any record of its use except in lists of long words which some editors treat as lexicographical freak shows.  Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary lists the longest as electroencephalographically, also from the physician’s diagnostic tool box.