Words my clients have taught me: lacuna

When I first looked this up, I felt a bit stupid, as my idea of what the word meant (something like lagoon, oasis or watery landscape) was so different from its actual meaning (a blank space or missing part). In the context, it referred particularly to a gap in a manuscript.

I find it quite shocking, after having worked with language for so many years, that there are still words I can be so wrong about. But bear with me, because it turns out there is a connection. Phew.

First, the definitions.

  • Oxford: an unfilled space; a gap; (anatomy) a cavity or depression, especially in bone.
  • Collins: a gap or space, esp in a book or manuscript; (biology) a cavity or depression, such as any of the spaces in the matrix of bone; another name for coffer (in the sense of an ornamental sunken panel).

I still had this tugging feeling of a connection with water, and I wondered if I was just getting confused because ‘lacuna’ and ‘lagoon’ sound similar. As ever, Etymonline came to the rescue. Indeed, both words stem from the Latin lacuna meaning hole or pit, and lacus, meaning pond or lake.

In fact, ‘lagoon’ (meaning a pond or channel near to a larger body of water) developed in the 1670s, coming out of the earlier version ‘laguna’, which is first recorded in the 1610s.

So there we go. Not quite mad, yet.

Words my clients have taught me: egregious

Well, this is a confusing one! It currently means shockingly bad, but originally meant outstandingly good.

  • Oxford: outstandingly bad, shocking; (archaic) remarkably good
  • Collins: very bad indeed

It comes from the Latin egregius, meaning illustrious, distinguished, eminent, exceptional, or literally ‘standing out from the flock’. Oxford says the current meaning that indicates disapproval probably began as an ironic usage at some point in the 16th century.

Words my clients have taught me: proscriptive

When this word first turned up, I wondered if it was a typo for ‘prescriptive’. But no, it means forbidden. Later in the text, it turned up again several times as the verb form, proscribe.

  • Oxford: forbid, especially by law; denounce or condemn; outlaw.
  • Collins: to condemn or prohibit; to outlaw; banish; exile; (in ancientRome) to outlaw (a citizen) by posting his name in public.

That final meaning in the Collins definition, of posting a person’s name in public, is where the word comes from. In Latin, pro (before) and scribere (write). Etymonline explains it well.

Words my clients have taught me: armistice

I had the general gist of what armistice meant, but I looked it up to check.

  • Oxford: an agreement made by opposing sides in a war to stop fighting for a certain time; a truce.
  • Collins: a temporary suspension of hostilities by agreement of the warring parties; truce.

I’m glad I did check, because I hadn’t previously understood the temporary aspect of its meaning. I had thought it meant something like ‘peace agreement’.

This led me to look up Armistice Day, where I discovered that the original armistice agreement, signed on 11 November 1918, was indeed temporary. Initially agreed for just 36 days, it was extended three times to enable peace negotiations to continue, culminating in the Treaty of Versailles on 28 June 1919.

In turn, this prompted me to investigate whether Remembrance Day and Armistice Day were one and the same; they’re not. Remembrance Sunday falls on the second Sunday of November, and commemorates all those who have died in the line of duty. Whereas Armistice Day is always on 11 November, and commemorates the signing of the Armistice that brought an end to the First World War.

However, Armistice Day is often now called Remembrance Day, and sometimes even falls on the same day. In America it’s called Veterans Day, and honours all of the country’s military veterans.

I feel slightly sheepish about not having known these subtleties, but I do now, and that’s why I look things up.