Etceterini

Etceterini (pronounced et-set-er-rhini)

One or all of the sports cars & racing cars produced in small volumes by a number of “boutique” Italian manufacturers during the quarter-century-odd following World War II (1939-1945).

1980s (though not attaining wide currency until publication in 1990): A portmanteau word, the construct being etcetera(a) + ini.  Etcetera was from the early fourteenth century Middle English et cetera (and other things; and so forth), from the Latin et cētera (and the other things; and the rest of the things), the construct being et (and) + cetera (the other things; the rest).  Et was from the Proto-Italic et, from the primitive Indo-European éti or heti and was cognate with the Ancient Greek ἔτι (éti), the Sanskrit अति (ati), the Gothic iþ (and, but, however, yet) and the Old English prefix ed- (re-).  Cētera was the plural of cēterum, accusative neuter singular of cēterus (the other, remainder, rest), from the Proto-Italic ke-eteros, the construct being ke (here) +‎ eteros (other).  The Latin suffix -īnī was an inflection of -īnus (feminine -īna, neuter -īnum), from the Proto-Italic -īnos, from the primitive Indo-European -iHnos and was cognate with the Ancient Greek -ινος (-inos) and the Proto-Germanic -īnaz.  The suffix was added to a noun base (particularly proper nouns) to form an adjective, usually in the sense of “of or pertaining to and could indicate a relationship of position, possession or origin”.  Because the cars referenced tended to be small (sometimes very small), some may assume the –ini element to be an Italian diminutive suffix but in Italian the diminutive suffixes are like -ino, -etto, -ello & -uccio but etceterini works because the Latin suffix conveys the idea of “something Italian”.  It was used substantively or adverbially.  Until the early twentieth century, the most common abbreviation was “&c.” but “etc.” (usually with a surely now superfluous period (full-stop)) has long been the standard form.   Etcetera is a noun; the noun plural is etceteras

The word “etcetera” (or “et cetera”) fully has been assimilated into English and (except when used in a way which makes a historic reference explicit) is for most purposes no longer regarded as “a foreign word” though the common use has long been to use the abbreviation (the standard now: “etc”).  If for whatever reason there’s a need for a “conspicuously foreign” form then the original Latin (et cētera (or even the Anglicized et cetera)) should be used.  There is no definitive date on which the assimilation can be said to have been completed (or at least generally accepted), rather it was a process.  From the 1400s, the Middle English et cetera was used and understood by educated speakers, due to Latin's prominence in law, science, religion and academia with it by the mid-eighteenth century being no longer viewed as a “foreignism” (except of course among the reactionary hold-outs with a fondness for popery and ecclesiastical Latin: for them, in churches and universities, even in English texts, et cētera or et cetera remained preferred).  Scholars of structural linguistics use an interesting test to track the process of assimilation as modern English became (more or less) standardized: italicization.  With “et cetera” & “etcetera”, by the mid-eighteenth century, the once de rigour italics had all but vanished.  That test may no longer be useful because words which remains classified as “foreign” (such as raison d'être or schadenfreude) often now appear without italics.

The so-called “pronunciation spellings” (ekcetera, ekcetra, excetera & exetera) were never common and the abbreviations followed the same assimilative path.  The acceptance of the abbreviated forms in printed English more widespread still during the 1600s because of the advantages it offered printers, typesetters much attracted by the convenience and economy.  By early in the eighteenth century it was an accepted element (usually as “&c” which soon supplanted “et cet”) in “respectable prose”, appearing in Nathan Bailey’s (circa 1690-1742) An Universal Etymological English Dictionary (1721) and gaining the imprimatur of trend-setter Anglo-Irish author & satirist Jonathan Swift (1667–1745).  Dr Johnson (Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)) made much use of “&c” in his A Dictionary of the English Language (1755) and although Bailey’s dictionary was influential in the breadth of its comprehensiveness and remained, over 30 editions, in print until 1802, it’s Dr Johnson who is better remembered because he was became a “celebrity lexicographer” (a breed which today must sound improbable.)

One of the implications of linguistic assimilation is the effect on the convention applied when speaking from a written text.  Although wildly ignored (probably on the basis of being widely unknown), the convention is that foreign words in a text should be spoken in the original language only if that’s necessary for emphasis or meaning (such as Caudillo, Duce or Führer) or emphasis.  Where foreign terms are used in writing as a kind of verbal shorthand (such as inter alia (among other things)) in oral use they should be spoken in English.  However, the convention doesn’t extent to fields where the terms have become part of the technical jargon (which need not influence a path of assimilation), as in law where terms like inter alia and obiter (a clipping of obiter dictum (something said by a judge in passing and not a substantive part of the judgment)) are so entrenched in written and oral use that to translate them potentially might be misleading.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left), Britney Spears (b 1981, centre) & Paris Hilton (b 1981, right), close to dawn, Los Angeles, 29 November 2006; the car was Ms Hilton's Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren (C199 (2003-2009)).  This paparazzo's image was from a cluster which included the one used for the front page on Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) New York Post with the still infamous headline “BIMBO SUMMIT”.  Even by the standards of the Murdoch tabloids, it was nasty.

So, the text written as: “Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Britney Spears et al recommend that while a handbag always should contain “touch-up & quick fix-up” items such as lipstick, lip gloss, and lip liner, the more conscientious should pack more including, inter alia, mascara, eyeliner, eyebrow pencil, concealer, a powder compact, a small brush set & comb etc.” would be read aloud as: “Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Britney Spears and others recommend that while a handbag always should contain “touch-up & quick fix-up” items such as lipstick, lip gloss, and lip liner, the more conscientious should pack more including, among other things, mascara, eyeliner, eyebrow pencil, concealer, a powder compact, a small brush set & comb etcetera.”  Despite the cautions from purists (including just about every grammar text-book and style guide on the planet), the “choice” between “etc” and “et al” does seem to becoming blurred with many using seemingly using the two interchangeably.  The rules are (1) “etc” (and other things) is used of things (and according to the style guides should always appear with a period (full-stop) even though such use is archaic and another of those “needless tributes to tradition”) and (2) “et al” (and others) is used of people (especially in citations and again, always with a period).  So, “et al” can’t be used for things; strictly, it’s for things; it’ll be interesting to see if these rules survive into the next century.  Really, it's a silly rule and because it's hardly difficult to distinguish between a text string of "people" and one of "things", if used interchangeably, the two abbreviations are unlikely to confuse.  Et al was the abbreviation of the Latin et aliī (and others).

A Unix /etc directory.

In computing, Unix-based operating systems (OS) feature a directory (the word “folder” thought effete by the Unix community, most of whom are at their happiest when typing arcane commands at the prompt) called “etc” (along with /root, /boot, dev, /bin, /opt etc) which is used as a repository for system-wide configuration files and shell scripts used to boot and initialize the system.  Although there are many variants of the OS, typically an /etc directory will contain (1) OS configuration files (/etc/passwd; /etc/fstab; /etc/hosts), (2) system startup scripts (/etc/init.d or /etc/systemd/, (3) network configuration, (4) user login & environment configuration files and (5) application configuration files.  Originally (sometime in 1969-1970), the “etc” name was adopted because it was “an et cetera” in the literal sense of “and so on”, a place to store files which were essential but didn’t obviously belong elsewhere, a single “general purpose” directory used to avoid needless proliferation in the structure.  Rapidly Unix grew in complexity and configurability so the once “place for the miscellaneous” became the canonical location for configuration files, the original sense displaced but the name retained.  It is pronounced et-see (definitely not ee-tee-see or et-set-er-uh).  Despite their reputation, the Unix guys do have a joke (and there are unconfirmed rumors of a second).  Because so many of the files in /etc can be modified with any text-editor, in some documents earnestly it’s revealed /etc is the acronym of “Editable Text Configuration” but that is fake news; it's a backronym.

The Etceterini: exquisite creations with names ending in vowels

1954 Stanguellini 750 Sport.

In the tradition of mock-Latin, the word etceterini was a late twentieth century coining created to refer to the ecosystem of the numerous small-volume Italian sports & racing cars built in the early post-war years.  A portmanteau word, the construct being etceter(a) + ini, the idea was a word which summoned the idea of “many, some obscure” with an Italianesque flavor.  Credit for the coining is claimed by both automotive historian John de Boer (who in 1990 published The Italian car registry: Incorporating the registry of Italian oddities: (the etceterini register) and reviewer & commentator Stu Schaller who asserts he’d used it previously.  Whoever first released it into the wild (and it seems to have been in circulation as least as early as the mid-1980s) can be content because it survived in its self-defined niche and the evocative term has become part of the lexicon used by aficionados of post-war Italian sports and racing cars.  Being language (and in this English is not unique), it is of course possible two experts, working in the same field, both coined the term independently, the timing merely a coincidence.  Etceterini seems not to have been acknowledged (even as a non-standard form) by the editors of any mainstream English dictionary and surprisingly, given how long its history of use now is, even jargon-heavy publications like those from the Society of Automotive Engineers (SAE) haven’t yet added it to their lexicons.  It does though appear in specialist glossaries, car-model registry websites and niche discussion forums, especially those tied to classic Italian car culture (OSCA, Moretti, Stanguellini, Siata, Bandini, Ermini etc).  So, as a word it has sub-cultural & linguistic clarity but no status among the linguistic establishment.

1953 Siata 208S Barchetta.

John De Boer’s comprehensive The Italian car registry: Incorporating the registry of Italian oddities: (the etceterini register) was last updated in 1994 and remains the best-known publication on the many species of the genus etceterini and included in its 350-odd pages not only a wealth of photographs and cross-referenced details of specification but also lists chassis and engine numbers (priceless data for collectors and restoration houses in their quests for the often elusive quality of “originality”).  Nor are the personalities neglected, as well as some notable owners the designers and builders are discussed and there are sections devoted to coach-builders, a once vibrant industry driven almost extinct by regulators and the always intrusive realities of economics.  One thing which especially delights the collectors are the photographs of some of the obscure accessories of the period, some rendered obsolete by technology, some of which became essential standard-equipment and some seriously weird.  Mr De Boer’s book was from the pre-internet age when, except for a pampered handful in a few universities, “publication” meant paper and printing presses but such things are now virtualized and “weightless publication” is available instantly to all and there are small corners of the internet curated for devotees of the etceterini such as Cliff Reuter’s Etceteriniermini, a title which certainly takes some linguistic liberties.  Some trace the breed even to the late 1930s and such machines certainly existed then but as an identifiable cultural and economic phenomenon, they really were a post-war thing and although circumstances conspired to make their survival rare by the mid 1960s, a handful lingered into the next decade.

1957 Bandini 750 Sport Siluro.

That the ecosystem of the etceterini flourished in Italy in the 1950s was because the country was then a certain place and time and while the memorable scenes depicted in La Dolce Vita (1960) might have been illusory for most, the film did capture something from their dreams.  After the war, there was a sense of renewal, the idea of the “new” Italy as a young country in which “everybody” seemed young and for those who could, sports car and racing cars were compelling.  However, while there was a skilled labor force ready to build them and plenty of places in which they could be built, economics dictated they needed to be small and light-weight because the mechanical components upon which so many relied came from the Fiat parts bin and the most significant commonality among the etceterini were the small (often, by international standards, tiny) engines used otherwise to power the diminutive micro-cars & vans with which Fiat in the post-war years “put Italy on wheels”.  It was no coincidence so many of the small-volume manufacturers established their facilities near to Fiat’s factory in Torino, the closest thing the nation had to a Detroit.  In the early years, it wasn’t unknown for a donkey and cart carrying a few engines to make the short journey from the Fiat foundry to an etceterini’s factory (which was sometime little more than a big garage).  However, just because the things were small didn’t mean they couldn’t be beautiful and, being built by Italians, over the years there were some lovely shapes, some merely elegant but some truly sensuous.

1960 Stanguellini Formula Junior.

There was a high failure rate but many for years flourished and developed also lucrative “sideline” businesses producing lines of speed equipment or accessories for majors such as Fiat or Alfa Romeo and, as has happened in other industries, sometimes the success of these overtook the original concern, Nardi soon noticing their return on capital from selling thing popular custom steering wheels far exceeded what was being achieved from producing a handful of little sports cars, production of which quickly was abandoned with resources re-allocated to the accessory which had become a trans-Atlantic best-seller.  Whether things would have gone on indefinitely had the laissez-faire spirit of the time been allowed to continue can’t be known but by the 1960s, traffic volumes rapidly were increasing on the growing lengths of autostrade (the trend-setting Italian motorway system begun during the administration of Benito Mussolini (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & Prime-Minister of Italy 1922-1943) with accident rates & the death toll both climbing.  Italy, like many jurisdictions began to impose safety regulations which before long made small-scale production runs unviable but by then rising prosperity meant people were able to purchase their own Fiat or Alfa-Romeo and the etceterini faded into fond memory.  It is of course unthinkable such a thing could again happen because the EU (European Union) is now staffed by divisions of Eurocrats who spend their days in Masonic-like plotting and scheming to devise new reasons to say no, non, nein, nee, nein, não etc.  Had these bloodless bureaucrats existed in the 1940s, not one etceterini would ever have reached the street.

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.

Cutthroat

Cutthroat (pronounced kuht-throht)

(1) Slang for a murderer (regardless of chosen method) or one thought capable of murder (based on the notion of "cutting the throat" being a classic, ancient method of murder (done properly, being quick, rapid and almost silent)).

(2) Ruthless in competition.

(3) In games of cards where the rules permit each of three or more persons to act and score as an individual.

(4) In billiards, a three person game where the object is to be the last player with at least one ball still on the table.

(5) As cutthroat eel, a family, Synaphobranchidae, of eels found worldwide in temperate and tropical seas.

(6) As cutthroat trout (Oncorhynchus clarkii), a species of freshwater fish in the salmon family of order Salmoniformes.

(7) As cutthroat finch, a common species of estrildid finch found in Africa.

(8) As cutthroat razor, a reusable knife blade used for shaving hair.

(9) In linguistics, as an ellipsis of cutthroat compound (an agentive-instrumental verb-noun compound word).

1525–1535: A compound word, the construct bing cut + throat.  the early twelfth century cut was from the Middle English cutten, kitten, kytten & ketten (to cut), from the Old English cyttan (related to the Scots kut & kit (to cut)), probably of North Germanic origin, from the Old Norse kytja & kutta, from the Proto-Germanic kutjaną & kuttaną (to cut), of uncertain origin but possibly related to the Proto-Germanic kwetwą (meat, flesh).  It was akin to the Middle Swedish kotta (to cut or carve with a knife), the Swedish kuta & kytti (a knife)), the Norwegian kutte (to cut), the Icelandic kuta (to cut with a knife), the Old Norse kuti (small knife) and the Norwegian kyttel, kytel & kjutul (pointed slip of wood used to strip bark).  Descent from the Old French coutel (knife) is thought improbable and it displaced the native Middle English snithen (from Old English snīþan (related to the German schneiden)), which survives still in some dialects as snithe.  The pre-900 t was from the Middle English throte, from the Old English throtu, þrote, þrota & þrotu (throat), from the Proto-Germanic þrutō (throat), from the primitive Indo-European trud- (to swell, become stiff).  It was cognate with the Dutch strot (throat), the German drossel (throttle, gorge of game (wild animals)), the Icelandic þroti (swelling) and the Swedish trut.  The Old English throtu was related to the Old High German drozza (throat) and the Old Norse throti (swelling).  Words with a similar meaning in the figurative sense include ferocious, vicious, savage, barbarous, bloodthirsty, cruel, dog-eat-dog, merciless, pitiless & relentless and unprincipled.  The alternative form is cut-throat although dictionaries note the rare use of cut throat.  Cutthroat is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is cutthroats.

You're wrong.—He was the mildest manner'd man
That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat:
With such true breeding of a gentleman,
You never could divine his real thought;
No courtier could, and scarcely woman can
Gird more deceit within a petticoat;
Pity he loved adventurous life's variety,
He was so great a loss to good society.

Don Juan (1819–24) canto III, stanza XLI, by Lord Byron (1788–1824)

A hover of cutthroat trout.

The cutthroat trout (Oncorhynchus clarkii) is of the family Salmonidae and is native to a number of North American cold-water tributaries of the Pacific Ocean and Rocky Mountains.  The common name "cutthroat" is derived from the coloration on the underside of the lower jaw.  Despite the use of the name, not all cutthroat trout instantly are recognizable.  Coastal cutthroat trout occur as sea-run or freshwater-resident forms in streams and lakes in a coastal range from lower south-east Alaska to Prince William Sound and are the most common trout species in the region.  What was noted as early as the 1950s was a lack of a distinct red slash mark in some sea-run and lake-resident forms which meant easily they could be confused with rainbow trout and although a positive identification was possible because (unlike the rainbow) the cutthroat is marked by the by the presence of minute teeth between the gills behind the base of the tongue, that obviously demanded close inspection.  That cutthroat trout and rainbow trout often share the same habitats does lead to occasional hybridization (the mating producing fertile offspring) which can make identification challenging as the hybrid fish are intermediate in appearance.

HMS Dreadnought at anchor, 1908.

The “cutthroat compound” is one of the more recent additions to the jargon of structural linguistics, the term in 2015 coined by historical linguist Brianne Hughes to describe a compound word formed from a transitive verb followed by a noun that is the object of that verb and the form is self-referential because “cutthroat” is such a form.  According to Ms Hughes’ analysis, although her research revealed some 1350 have from time-to-time been created, in Modern English, fewer than three dozen remain in common use, the most frequently heard being “breakfast” (the meal that “breaks the fast” since dinner, supper, midnight snack or whatever was one’s last meal).  She listed some which have survived to appear occasionally (swashbuckler, sawbones, and skinflint) but, being a historical linguist it was the “fun” ones which caught her eye and these included “catch-fart” (a footboy or servant who follows too closely behind his master, “hugmoppet” (an overly-affectionate old woman), “lackbeard” (a young man) and the hopefully metaphorical “lickspittle” (a toady or yes-man, base on the imagery of “one who licks up the spittle of another”.  More familiar are “daredevil” (one who “dares” the devil (ie takes great risks, tempting the devil to “take them to Hell”), “scarecrow” (used to “scare away crows”, “spoilsport” (one who ruins the fun), “turncoat” (one who changes their allegiance), “breakwater” (something that diverts or breaks the force of water) and “pickpocket” (one who “picks pockets”).  At the margins, deconstruction can be challenging: Is a dreadnought (1) an individual with a dread of nothing or (2) an individual who does but dread?  As the Royal Navy knew, it was the former and Admiral of the Fleet Jackie Fisher (First Baron Fisher, 1841–1920; First Sea Lord 1904–1910 & 1914–1915), the figure most associated with the epoch-making HMS Dreadnought (1906), when raised to the peerage, choose as the motto on his coat of arms: “Fear God and dread nought”.  Much the old salt would much have preferred the punchy “cutthroat compound” to the academic textbook term in the linguistics literature: “agentive and instrumental exocentric verb-noun compounds”.

In the cutthroat position: Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left) and Vanessa Lachey (née Minnillo, b 1980, right), staged shot, June, 2007.

There are also surnames which are cutthroat compounds (William Makepeace Thackeray (1811–1863); Ada Lovelace (1815-1852) & William Shakespeare (1564–1616) and the constructs appear also in other languages, the French amuse-bouche a small appetizer meant to “amuse one’s bouche (mouth)” (ie taste good).  As a device, the technique was in Romance languages a common way to form agent nouns but use was rare in Germanic languages (which use the suffix “-er” or its homologues).  The increase in the appearance of the pattern in English after the Norman Conquest (1066 and all that) was a consequence of French influence and linguistic anthropologists believe this reflected sociological factors: forming agent nouns in this way for despicable or derisible agents (such as cutthroat and turncoat) was apparently one way the English could mock both the French and those English folk who had become “affected”, speaking French and acting “more French than the French”.

Quondam

Quondam (pronounced kwon-duhm or kwon-dam)

(1) As a pronominal, former; one-time; having been formerly.

(2) As a pronominal, of an earlier time.

1580s: An adaptation of the earlier (1530-1550) from earlier use as an adverb (formerly) and noun (former holder of an office, title or position), from the Latin adverb quondam (formerly, at some time, at one time; once in a while) the construct being quom, cum (when, as), from the primitive Indo-European root kwo- (stem of relative and interrogative pronouns) + -dam (the demonstrative ending).  Quondam is an adjective, quondamship is a noun and quondamly is an adverb; the noun quondam is now archaic but can be used in the sense of “one’s ex” and if one is prolific in the generation of quondamship, the noun plural is quondams.  According to one severe critic on Urban Dictionary, “quondamness” is defined as “A thesaurus full of imaginary yet important sounding words that shoddy authors use in order to find strange obscure or even imaginary words to use in their stories, in the hopes of sounding more intelligent than they will ever be.” 

For a simple concept ("used to be"), quondam enjoys an impressive number of synonyms including former, previous, erstwhile, old, one-time, past, late, once, whilom, sometime, defunct, bygone, vanished, gone, departed, extinct and expired.  Some (extinct, expired, defunct) have specific technical meanings which limit their use while others (late, departed, gone) are most associated with the dead but otherwise quondam is available as a way of enriching a text.  In informal use, quondam has been used as a noun in the sense of one's ex-partner being “a quondam” and, as a re-purposed literary word, it has been adapted to the social media age with helpful, non-standard forms coined:

Quondam: One's ex-partner.

Quondaming: The act of dumping a partner.

Quondamed: The act of being so dumped.

Quaondamer: One who dumps a partner (in the form “serial quondamer”, applied to those who frequently dump).

Quondamee: One who has been quonadmed by a quandamer (in the form “serial quondamee”, applied to those frequently dumped).

Quondamish: An act which can be interpreted as being dumped but requires confirmation.

Quondamesque: Behavior which suggests having been dumped.

Quondamism: The study of dumped ex-partners (a branch of behaviorism).

Quondamist: A practitioner of quondamism (employed often by internet gossip sites) who can distinguish between genuine quondamees and those exhibiting quondam-like characteristics.  The experts have developed predictive models which they apply to work out who is next to be quondamed.

A quondam atheist who changed his mind: The Rage Against God: How Atheism Led Me to Faith (2010) by Peter Hitchens.

As a pronominal, writers like to use somewhat obscure quondam when drawing attention to those who were once “something” have for whatever reason become “something else”.  There are quondam atheists who became Christians including the (1) British academic & writer CS Lewis (1898–1963) who seems most to have be influenced in his conversion by JRR Tolkien (1892–1973), the US journalist Lee Strobel (b 1952) who set out to disprove Christianity after his wife converted, but the hunter ended up captured by the game, becoming a Christian, (3) the Physician-geneticist Francis Collins (b 1950) who lead the Human Genome Project and was either atheist or agnostic during his early scientific career but became affected by his encounters with expressions of faith among his patients although reading CS Lewis seems also have had a profound effect, (4) the writer Peter Hitchens (b 1951) who was a most truculent militant atheist (more so even than his brother Christopher) but returned to the faith of his youth after a period of personal reflection (which soon he’d call “soul-searching”) and witnessing “the consequences of godlessness” (although he writes for the tabloid Mail on Sunday which can’t be good for the soul), (5) the writer and broadcaster Malcolm Muggeridge (1903–1990) who as well as being quondam atheist was also quondam Marxist (a common coupling) and, like a 40-a-day smoker who has kicked the habit, having had his fun, he became a most moralistic Christian and (6) TS Eliot (1888–1965) who probably never was a quondam atheist but certainly had his moments of doubt so may qualify as an (off & on) quondam agnostic until his thirties and some of his later poetry does suggest he was keeping to a Godly path.

In political science there was a whole school of quondam communists of the “God that Failed” school, often arrayed in lists by conservatives anxious to rub in the “I told you so” moment.  The favorites though are the quondam Trotskyites (“Trots” to friend & foe alike) and while variously they’ve swung to some to conservatism, liberalism, nationalism or even God, it’s remarkable how many include the term “ex-Trotskyist” in their biodata, there being something romantic about comrade Leon Trotsky (1879-1940) and his Fourth International not shared by either comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) who ordered his murder or Karl Marx (1818-1883) although the latter should be treated sympathetically because of his many troubles including constipation (measured in days) but by far the greatest distraction must have been the painful genital boils.  In April 1867, in one of the many letters he sent to his collaborator Friedrich Engels (1820–1895), he lamented: “I shan’t bore you by explaining [the] carbuncles on my posterior and near the penis, the final traces of which are now fading but which made it extremely painful for me to adopt a sitting and hence a writing posture. I am not taking arsenic because it dulls my mind too much and I need to keep my wits about me.”

The Revolution Betrayed: What is the Soviet Union and Where is it Going? (1937) by Leon Trotsky.  Three years after publication, comrade Stalin's assassins finally tracked down comrade Trotsky and murdered him; the weapon was an ice axe.

There was the writer and eternal enfant terrible Christopher Hitchens (1949-2011), in his youth a member of the International Socialists, who drifted away gradually but perceptibly before re-shaping his world-view into Islam vs the West after the 9/11 attacks, becoming a fellow-traveller with the neo-cons.  Across the Atlantic there was Irving Kristol (1920-2009) whose time with the Young People's Socialist League seems to have been more than youthful impetuosity because his faction was the then unfashionable Trotskyist group opposed to the Soviet state being built by comrade Stalin.  The extent to which his hard-right conservative wife changed his intellectual direct can be debated but for those who like “nurture vs nature” discussions, their son William Kristol (b 1952) was born a right-winger and has never deviated.  Perhaps the most famous quondam Trotskyist & Communist (he was inconsistent in his self-identification) of the Cold War years was the quondam Soviet spy Whittaker Chambers (1901-1961) whose testimony was crucial in the trial of State Department official Alger Hiss (1904–1996), the case on which the young congressman Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) built his reputation as an anti-communist.  Nixon later became one of many quondam presidents but the only one rendered thus by having to resign in disgrace.

Lindsay Lohan's quondam list (2013), partially redacted for publication by In Touch magazine.

Because her hectic lifestyle had for a decade-odd been chronicled (accurately and not) by the tabloid press, even before In Touch magazine in 2014 published a partially redacted list of three-dozen names Lindsay Lohan had in her own hand compiled of those with whom she’d enjoyed intimacy, she already had a reputation as a serial quondammer.  The list contained 36 names which seemed a reasonable achievement for someone then 27 although it wasn’t clear whether the count of three-dozen quandams was selective or exhaustive and upon publication it produced reactions among those mentioned ranging from “no comment” to denials in the style of a Clintonesque “I did not have sex with that woman”.  Other points of interest included Ms Lohan's apparently intact short & long-term memory and her commendably neat handwriting.  She seems to favor the “first letter bigger” style in which the format is “all capitals” but the first letter of a sentence or with proper nouns such as names is larger.  In typography, the idea is derived from the “drop cap”, a centuries-old tradition in publishing where the opening letter of a sentence is many times the size of the rest, the text wrapping around the big letter.  In many cases, a drop cap was an elaborate or stylized version of the letter.  Her writing was praised as neat and effortlessly legible.  

Ms Lohan was about as pleased the list had been published as Gore Vidal (1925–2012) might have been if gifted the complete anthology (deluxe edition, leather bound with commentaries by the author) of the works of Joyce Carol Oates (b 1938).  It transpired the list of 36 was written as part of the fifth step of the Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) programme Ms Loan was in 2013 undertaking at the Betty Ford Clinic; that is known informally as the “Confession” step and it encourages members to acknowledge the harm caused to themselves and others in their pursuit of alcohol: “Admitted to God, to oneself, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.”  Legally, despite being tagged “confession”, US courts have never extended to the AA the same status of privileged communication which conferred on what passes between penitent and priest in the confession box so committing one’s sins to paper is doubly dangerous.  Subsequently interviewed, Ms Lohan said she could “neither confirm or deny” the accuracy of the list but seemed to confirm what In Touch had published appeared to be a photograph of what she’d written.  That was an interesting distinction to draw but who took the photograph remains a mystery although she concluded: “Someone when I was moving must have taken a photo of it”, adding: “So that’s a really personal thing and that’s unfortunate.”  Ms Lohan’s best-known quondam remains former special friend Samantha Ronson.

There is also much quondamism among those disillusioned by the cults of which they were once devoted followers and there have been many confessed Freemasons who abandoned the pseudo-faith, denouncing it as they stormed from the temple vowing never to return.  Although the Freemasons have centuries of experience in conducting cover-ups and are suspected to have infiltrated many news organizations, the fragmentation of the media in the internet age has meant stories sometimes do hit the headlines.  In 2024, the Rev Canon Dr Joseph Morrow (b 1954) not only resigned as Grand Master of The Freemasons of Scotland but also ceased to be a Mason.  Dr Morrow’s very public exit from the cult saw a flurry of speculation about what low skulduggery might have been involved, suggestions the he had been undermined by a “traditionalist” Masonic faction opposed to his plans to “modernize the craft”.  The conservatives clearly liked things the way then were and it seems there were tensions between members, some spooked by Dr Morrow pledged to oversee reform and widen recruitment, saying: “We will expand the global presence of Scottish freemasonry by inspiring our members to enjoy their involvement and by attracting new members.  This will be achieved by cultivating a positive culture of inclusivity and a meaningful impact on our communities.”  That must have sounded ominously like a DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) agenda, not welcome by many in the all-male institution that is Scottish-rite Masonry and hearing Dr Morrow speak of “greater transparency” would have sat not well with those who prize Masonic secrecy and opaqueness.

Quondom Grand Master & quondom Freemason Dr Joseph Morrow in his Masonic Grand Master regalia.  Note the ceremonial apron being worn underneath jacket, a style almost unique to The Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry.

Suggestions were published alleging Dr Morrow left the cult because he’d learned the traditionalist faction was plotting and scheming against him, planning to propose an alternative grand master while he was on holiday in the Far East; his departure was said to be a case of “jumping before he was pushed”.  Circling the aprons, a spokesman for the Grand Lodge (1) denied any dissident members were plotting and scheming a palace coup, (2) claimed Dr Morrow had never raised “significant concerns”, (3) asserted: “No other candidate was planning to stand against him” and (4) maintained “Dr Morrow’s decision to resign was made for his own personal reasons.”  He concluded: “We are grateful for the huge contribution he has made to Scottish Freemasonry over many years and wish him well for the future.”  Whatever really happened, following his abrupt departure, the quondom Grand Master is also a quondom Freemason.