Felicitous

Felicitous (pronounced fi-lis-i-tuhs)

(1) Characterized by felicity; causing happiness or pleasure.

(2) Well-suited to the occasion (of actions, manners, speech, expression etc); something apt or appropriate in the circumstances.

(3) Possessing a particular aptitude to display a suitable manner or expression; possessing an agreeable style.

(4) In structural linguistics (of a sentence or other fragment), semantically and pragmatically coherent; fitting in the context.

(5) In astrology, a planet or other heavenly body in an influential position.

1720s: The construct was felicit(y) + -ous.  Felicity was from the Middle English felicite (bliss, happiness, joy; delight, pleasure; a source of happiness; good fortune; prosperity; well-being; a heavenly body in an influential position (used in astrology), from the Old French felicité (source of the modern French félicité (bliss, happiness; felicity)), from the Latin fēlīcitātem, the accusative singular of fēlīcitās (fertility, fruitfulness; happiness, felicity; good fortune; success), from fēlix (happy; blessed, fortunate, lucky; fertile, fruitful; prosperous; auspicious, favorable) (ultimately from the primitive Indo-European dheh & dhehy (to nurse, suckle)) + -itās (a variant of -tās (the suffix used to form nouns indicating a state of being)).  The -itas suffix was from the Proto-Italic -itāts & -otāts (-tās added to i-stems or o-stems, later used freely) and ultimately from the primitive Indo-European -tehats.  The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns, to denote possession or presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  There are degrees of felicitousness; the comparative is more felicitous, the superlative most felicitous.  Felicitous is an adjective, felicitousness is a noun and felicitously is an adverb.

In structural linguistics felicitous is a technical term used to indicate a sentence is semantically and pragmatically coherent (in the context of use).  It is not a synonym for “correct” in every situation because a sentence can be grammatical yet not be felicitous, analogous with law where a contract to undertake a murder can be found to be a valid (legal) contract because it conforms to the rules for such things yet be held to be “void for illegality” because the act of murder is unlawful.

In use, "felicitation", (complimentary expression of belief in another's happiness or good fortune), the noun of action from felicitate, is often used in the plural as “please extend my felicitations” although it’s now rare and probably something of an affectation by those for whom Noël Coward’s (1899–1973) drawing room scenes remain models of good manners; it may be the ultimate middle-class phrase.  In English drawing rooms and other places, felicitation was in use by the early eighteenth century.  Some style guides note the occasional error of use in which felicitation is used as a synonym for “congratulations” and caution it should instead be though a companion term.  Like the verb congratulate, congratulation implies one’s feeling of pleasure in another's happiness or good fortune while felicitation refers to an expression of belief the other is fortunate; what felicitations should suggest to the recipient is their pleasure is well deserved and should be enjoyed.  Expressions of both congratulations and felicitations can be sincere or wholly fake and those skilled in the art of such things deliberately can, with exactly the same text, convey either meaning through nuances such as intonation or non-verbal clues.  The guides’ distinction seems helpful (at least at the margins) but not arbiters of English agreed.  One of the most consistently severe of these was Henry Fowler (1858–1933) who in his authoritative A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) included “felicitate” in his list of “formal words” as a merely decorative alternative to “congratulate”, lumping it in with other needlessly ornate forms (adumbrate vs outline; endeavour vs try; desist vs cease (layers can prove those two are distinct); extend vs send; proceed vs go et al).  No fan of “genteelisms” in language, Henry Fowler thought there were few exceptions to his rule that the common or vernacular form is better than the formal.

Intriguingly, etymologists note a single verified use of “felicitously” in the 1530s but it's thought probably an error and the form wasn’t to emerge for more than a century.  The now obsolete verb felicitate (to render happy) was in use in the early seventeenth century, during which it picked up the sense of “to reckon happy”.  It was from the Late felicitatus, past participle of felicitare (to make happy), from felicitas (fruitfulness, happiness), again from fēlix.  The meaning “congratulate, compliment upon a happy event” seems to have emerged in the 1630s and the related forms were the verbs felicitated & felicitating; the rare alternative verb form felicify was documented in the 1690s and by the late nineteenth century this yielded adjective felicific and the companion antonym infelicific, neither now in common use but being shorter, seem more convenient than the alternative adjective infelicitous (unhappy, unlucky), in use by the late 1740s, supplanting the late sixteenth century form infelicious.  In most cases, there will anyway probably be better words to use but infelicific, infelicitously & infelicitousness seem more elegant that the alternatives (nonfelicitous, nonfelicitously & nonfelicitousness and unfelicitous, unfelicitously & unfelicitousness).

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.  So, all the ngrams reveal only what's in the particular sub-set Google’s grabbers extract from their catchments and that indicates the use of “felicitous” & “infelicitous” was most common in the mid-nineteenth century and although the former seems to have been used more than the latter, no conclusions should be drawn about the changes in the state of human happiness.  One clear finding however is that the double-negative form (that favorite of lawyers, politicians and Foreign Office mandarins) never found favor; if people wished to convey felicitousness they bothered not with “not infelicitous”.

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

The double negative is though handy to add nuance; whatever would be the surface analysis on the combination, “not bad” is understood to mean something different than “good” and it may be that like “I’m not unhappy”, “not infelicitous” can be useful in that it can be used to convey the sense that although one might not be all that happy, one is not despairingly miserable.  Given the nature of the human condition, it’s surprisingly it’s not heard more often.

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) and Nikki Haley (b 1972; US ambassador to the United Nations (UN) 2017-2018): Feeling respectively "felicitous" and "not infelicitous" after the South Carolina Republican Primary, February 2024.

Adumbrate

Adumbrate (pronounced a-duhm-breyt or ad-uh m-breyt)

(1) To produce a faint image or resemblance of; to outline or sketch.

(2) To foreshadow; prefigure.

(3) To darken or conceal partially; overshadow.

(4) To give a faint indication of something.

1550s: From the Latin adumbrationem (nominative adumbratio) and adumbratus (shaded), past participle of adumbrare (to cast a shadow upon).  Ultimate root was umbrare (to cast in shadow).  The meaning "to overshadow" is from the 1660s at which time emerged the derived forms adumbrated and adumbrating and related forms are adumbration (noun), adumbrative (adjective) and adumbratively (adverb).

Lindsay Lohan adumberated.  Mercedes-Benz Academy Awards Party, Los Angeles, 2009.

Sketch

Sketch (pronounced skech)

(1) A simply or hastily executed drawing or painting, especially a preliminary one, giving the essential features without the details, later to be elaborated.

(2) A rough design, plan, or draft, as of a book.

(3) A brief or hasty outline of facts, occurrences etc.

(4) As thumbnail sketch, a piece of text which summaries someone or something.

(5) A short, usually descriptive, essay, history, or story.

(6) A short play or slight dramatic performance, as one forming part of a variety or vaudeville program; a short comedy routine (a skit).

(7) To make a sketch.

(8) To summarize, to set forth in a brief or general account.

(9) In metallurgy, to mark a piece of metal for cutting.

(10) In music, a short evocative instrumental piece, used especially with compositions for the piano.

(11) In the slang of the Irish criminal class, as “to keep (a) sketch), to maintain a lookout; to be vigilant; watch for something.

(12) In journalism, as parliamentary sketch, a newspaper article summarizing political events which attempts to make serious points in a lest than obviously serious manner (mostly UK).

(13) In category theory, a formal specification of a mathematical structure or a data type described in terms of a graph and diagrams (and cones (and cocones)) on it. It can be implemented by means of “models” (functors) which are graph homomorphisms from the formal specification to categories such that the diagrams become commutative, the cones become limiting (ie products) and the cocones become colimiting (ie sums).

1660–1670: From the Dutch schets (noun), from the Italian schizzo, from the Latin schedium (extemporaneous poem), noun use of neuter of schedius (extempore; hastily made), from the Ancient Greek σχέδιος (skhédios) (made suddenly, off-hand, unprepared), from σχεδόν (skhedón) (near, nearby), from ἔχω (ékhō) (I hold).  The German Skizze, the French esquisse & the Spanish esquicio are also from the Italian schizzo.  The related forms are the nouns sketcher & sketchiness, the adverbs sketchily & sketchingly and the adjectives sketchlike and sketchable.

Sketch became a verb in the 1660s in the sense of “present the essential facts of" and was derived from the earlier noun. This idea of a sketch as a “brief account” by 1789 had enlarged to a "short play or performance, usually comic", still maintaining the connection from art as something less than full-scale, the reference to comedy suggesting something slight rather than a serious work.  The sketch-book was first recorded in 1820.  That sense extended beyond text to art and design from 1725 when it came also to mean "draw, portray in outline and partial shading", firstly to describe simple drawings, referring later to preparatory work for more elaborate creations.  The adjective sketchy is noted from 1805, describing art “having the form or character of a sketch".  The colloquial sense of "unsubstantial, imperfect, flimsy" is from 1878, possibly to convey the sense of something "unfinished".  Adumbrate (faint sketch, imperfect representation), actually pre-dates sketch, noted first in the 1550s.  It was from the Latin adumbrationem (nominative adumbratio) (a sketch in shadow, sketch, outline).  The meaning "to overshadow" is from the 1660s at which time emerged the derived forms adumbrated and adumbrating and related forms are adumbration (noun), adumbrative (adjective) and adumbratively (adverb).

Sketches of Spain

Although not yet regarded as the landmark in jazz it would come to be in the decades which followed its release in 1959, even in 1960 Miles Davis’ (1926-1991) Kind of Blue had already created among some aficionados an expectation; realising it was something special, this was what they hoped would be the definitive Davis style and they were anxious for more.  The next release however, wasn’t indicative of what was to come, Workin' with the Miles Davis Quintet (1960 Cat# Prestige P-7166) was the third of four albums assembled from sessions recorded long before the Kind of Blue sessions and released to fulfil contractual obligations to the independent label Prestige.  Although some purists were pleased, after Kind of Blue, the music seemed old-fashioned.

Miles Davis, Kind of Blue, (1959, Columbia, Cat# CS 8163).

Davis had enjoyed considerable success in the 1950s but, needing the distribution and promotional network of a major label to reach a wider audience, he’d signed with Colombia (CBS internationally).  The early Colombia releases had been well received but it was the sixth, Kind of Blue, which made him a star beyond the world of jazz, the album selling in volumes unprecedented in the genre; to date, over four million copies are said to have been shipped.  Davis had been innovative before, his performance at the 1954 Newport Jazz Festival defining what had come to be called “hard bop” (a flavor of jazz influenced by other forms, especially rhythm and blues) but the appeal extended little beyond already established audiences.  What made Kind of Blue so significant was that Davis essentially created modal jazz which shifted the technique from one where the players worked within a set chord progression to soloists creating melodies using modes which could be deployed alone or in multiples.  Musicians explain the significance of this as a movement to the horizontal (the scale) rather than the traditional vertical (the chord).  In the somewhat insular world of jazz, that would anyway have been interesting but the sound captivated those beyond and was a landmark in what would come to be known as musical fusion, the cross-fertilisation of sound and technique.  Among composers, fusion was nothing new but Kind of Blue realised its implications in a tight, seductive package.

Miles Davis, Sketches of Spain, (1959, Columbia, Cat# CS 8271).

Sketches of Spain too was a fusion but it was different to what had come before and no attempt to be Kind of Blue II.  For one thing, the sound was big, recorded in the famously cavernous converted church in Manhattan which for decades was Colombia’s recording studio.  Lined with old timber and with a ceiling which stretched 100 feet (30 m) high, technicians called it the “temple of sound” because of the extraordinary acoustic properties.  The ensemble too was big, a necessity because this time the fusion was with the orchestral, the long opening track an arrangement by Davis and Gil Evans (1912-1988) of the adagio movement of Joaquín Rodrigo’s (1901-1999) guitar concerto, Concierto de Aranjuez.  Such was the extent of the fusion there were traditionalists who doubted Sketches of Spain could still be called jazz; they saluted the virtuosity but seemed to miss the sometimes arcane complexities in construction inaccessible except to the knowing few.

Miles Davis, Bitches Brew (1970, CBS, Cat# S 66236).

A wider world however was entranced and technical progress needs also to be noted.  Colombia had recorded Davis before in the then still novel stereo but even fans acknowledged the mono pressings remained superior and it wasn’t until 1960, after extensive testing and the refinement of equipment that the technique had been perfected.  Sketches of Spain was lush or austere as the moment demanded, listeners new to stereo especially enchanted at being able to hear the sounds hanging in a three-dimensional space, each instrument a distinct object in time and place.  Nobody asked for mono after that.  Influential as it was, to Davis, Sketches of Spain was just another phase.  Ten years later, noting the increasing sparse audiences in jazz clubs and aware a new generation had different sensibilities, Davis would fuse with other, more recent traditions and Bitches Brew would cast his shadow over a new decade.

Six photographs of Lindsay Lohan, rendered in software as pencil sketches.