Etymology

Etymology is the study of the origin of words.  It comes from the Greek ‘etymon’ which means ‘true meaning’ and, ‘logia’ which means ‘word’ or ‘reason’.  Thus, the etymology of etymology.

For reasons I won’t bother to go in to, the other day I looked up the etymology of the word sanctimony. Sanctimony comes from the Latin ‘sanctus’ meaning holy, and ‘monium’ which connotes an obligation, thus ‘sanctus-monium’ literally meant ‘holy-obligation’. In today’s usage, however, someone who is sanctimonious is accused of being hypocritical in a holier-than-thou sort of way. I don’t know when or how the word drifted away from its original literal meaning and took on its contemporary pejorative connotation. I do know, that it’s not nice to be called sanctimonious.

While looking further into the meaning of the root ‘monium’, I discovered that there were at least two similar roots; the Greek root ‘monos’ meaning single, and the Latin root ‘moneo’ meaning speaking out, which left me wondering how the etymologists determined that ‘monium’ was the original root of sanctimonious. The other two would seem just as logical and would loosely translate to holy-one (sanctus-monos) or holy-speaking-out (sanctus-moneo). Confused but curious, I proceeded to further embark on my etymologic journey, delving into words with similar ‘monium’ origins.

Matrimony means the state of being married. Why then is it derived from the Latin root for mother, ‘mater-monium’?  Does etymology confirm that Freud was right and that, Oedipally speaking, we are obliged to marry our mother?  I explored this improbability further and discovered that the ‘mater’ in matrimony probably emphasized the traditional obligation of a married woman to become a mother.

Though ‘pater’ is the opposite of ‘mater’, patrimony is not the opposite of matrimony. Patrimony means the inheritance received through the father’s lineage, but has also come to mean an inheritance from ancestors. In its linguistic origin, marriage was associated with motherhood, but wealth was associated with dad.

Alimony, meaning the legal obligation to support an ex-spouse, derives from ‘alimentum’ which is to say ‘food’ as in the alimentary canal. One is obligated to make sure that the ex-spouse continues to be fed.

Harmony, which seldom happens alongside alimony, appears to not be a ‘monium’, ‘monos’, or ‘moneo’ word.  Instead, it derives from the Greek ‘harmonia’ meaning fastening, joining, or coming together.

Fittingly, there is controversy and debate concerning the origins of the word acrimony.  Some argue that acrimony is derived from the Latin ‘acro-moneo’ and others contend that acrimony is from the Greek ‘kharis-monos’.  Of Latin or Greek origin . . . the acrimonious debate continues.

Testimony, means to provide legal witness.  In this instance, ‘monium’ emphasizes a legal obligation. Its primary root is from the Latin ‘testis’ which means witness but also means testicle.  There are some who claim that, in ancient Rome, legal oaths were taken while grasping the testicles, the Roman equivalent to swearing on the Bible.  As for Roman women and eunuchs, apparently, they had no legal rights.

Ceremony, meaning fanfare, does not appear to have derived from any common Greek or Latin roots.  Instead, it has obscure Etruscan origins.  And so, I end my etymologic musings . . . with just this bit of ceremony.

Know Thyself

“Know Thyself” (inscribed on the entrance to the Temple of Apollo at Delphi) 

I know some people who believe they are good drivers . . . but they’re not.

I know some people who believe they are funny . . . but they’re not.
I know some people who believe they are nice . . . but they’re not.

Receiving feedback from others, at variance with self-perception, is no fun.  Once, when I was a camp counselor, I got my end-of-the-season evaluation.  I was commended for my work as a counselor and recommended for promotion. The evaluation also commented on my interpersonal interactions saying, while I was well respected, my peers thought I seemed aloof and hard to get to know. Really? I didn’t think so.  And how would they know anyway?

Can we know ourselves accurately?  Do others sometime see us with greater clarity than we see ourselves?  Noone can know my history, my memories, my emotions, my secrets better than I. Yet might I have blind spots?  Might others, on occasion, observe me with greater clarity than I observe myself?

In 1^st or 2^nd grade I remember asking myself, “Would I know it if I were retarded?” (Retarded was a word we commonly used back then.)  I don’t remember the context.  Maybe, I saw someone with special needs and empathically wondered what if felt like to be them.  More likely someone on the playground called me retarded, and I momentarily wondered if they could be right.  I always assumed that I was reasonably smart, but what if I was wrong?  What if others knew something about me that I was blind to?

My mother had Alzheimer’s. She also had ‘anosognosia’, which meant that she was oblivious to her condition. She was unaware of her cognitive decline, but those around her saw it clearly . . . which gets the heart of my concern.  As I get old, will I know if my cognitive abilities are in decline, will I be in denial, or might I become blind to my mental state?  Will I not know, and others will?

As he grew old, my father was blind to the fact that he was becoming deaf.  He didn’t know it, but everyone around him knew.  More seriously, as he grew old, my father couldn’t drive a car safely. He thought that he was a good driver.  Anyone who sat in the passenger seat knew otherwise.  My sister had to take away his keys. I don’t want to repeat what happened with my father. I have told my children that I will try to listen to them if and when they tell me I should no longer drive.

For the most part, I think that I see myself pretty clearly, but what might I be blind to?  There are limits to self-awareness. It’s important that I remain open to the input of others.  Maybe at camp they were right.  Maybe I still am a bit aloof and hard to know. That being said, I know myself well enough to say with confidence that I am still a good driver, I am still funny, and I am still nice . . . I think.

The Expatriate

I had a discussion with a young American, now an expatriate who has lived and worked in Viet Nam for the past 6 years.  He lives on what, in this country, would be a modest salary. Yet in comparison with most of the Vietnamese, he lives comfortably and has money left over to travel around much of that part of the world.

While living in Viet Nam, he has developed a very negative view of the United States. From a distance he observes an astonishing degree of commercialism in all aspects of American society.  He says that he and his fellow expatriates don’t know how they could ever earn enough to make ends meet should they return home.  He is astounded how few services and how little assistance are provided by the U.S. government to its citizens when compared to other countries. Now on the outside looking in, he believes America should evolve into a more wealth-sharing, socialist society. 

He has no desire to return to the States. He is horrified by the rise of right-wing white-racist populism in this country and sees democracy as a crumbling institution. He asked me if I was aware that the United States is currently on a traveler’s red list.  Travelers are warned before coming to this country about its gun violence.  It seems that many don’t understand America’s cult of gun ownership. In Viet Nam there is no hunting and no private ownership of guns.

He did not glorify Viet Nam. He acknowledged that the Vietnamese are tightly controlled by regulations. Recently this included a very strict one-year lockdown during the Covid epidemic, enforced by the police and military.  He described the Vietnamese people as having a ‘me first’ mentality, scrambling to get their fair share in a country with limited resources.  Nevertheless, he likes the people of Viet Nam and noted that, despite past history, they welcome Americans to their country.

Given his negative perceptions of America, I asked him why he thought so many from around the world continue to seek immigration into this country.  He answered that America has done a good job with ‘branding’.  People are attracted to the glamor, the glitz, the images created in the movies and other popular media.  But he goes on to say that the ‘American Dream’ is a hollow sales pitch, a bait-and-switch, an empty promise. 

I didn’t always agree with what was said.  In rebuttal, I spoke in defense of our freedoms and our opportunities for success. And, despite recent trials and tribulations, I voiced my strong preference for our constitutional democracy over autocracy and dictatorship. However, I found it eye-opening to hear how America is perceived by someone who is now outside and looking in.

Not infrequently, outsiders see us very differently than we see ourselves. I often think about my conversation with this young man, what I heard, what I thought about, and what I learned. When we put aside our insider perspective long enough to listen to the perspective of the outsider, we may hear some opinions with which we disagree.  We may also hear some opinions worthy of our serious consideration.