Bandolier

Meaning: Ammunition belt, although originally it meant anything worn across the shoulder 'scarfe wise'. This leaves the hands free, hence - presumably - the popularity with mountaineers and rifleers.

Ottoman Bandolier: I'd like one. 

Logofascination: 2. Etymologically it's 'little band*'; a word that has wandered through German, Italian, Spanish and into English via French (but sometimes straight from Spanish). Its meaning shifted to ammunition container quite quickly, perhaps not surprising in 17th century Europe.

In the wild: Hardly wild, but we're still in the Viennese museum of Arms and Armour. I discovered that the gorgeous bag I was coveting was, in fact, a bandolier and have been meaning to look up the etymology ever since.

Usefulness: 3. More useful is Cotgrave's bandouillier, one who wears anything 'scarfe wise'. I do this a lot.



*not related to bandit, which is someone who is banned. 

Chamfron

Meaning: a horse's head-armour, or as Cotgrave has it:

the front-stall, head-peece, or forehead-piece, of a barbed horse. 

Bonus word: a horse's armour is bard(ing), although no-one's quite sure why. This has since extended to the practice of wrapping bacon around poultry when roasting; good to see a useful word so deliciously recycled.

Logofascination: 2. Partly due to the 'there's a word for everything' factor, and partly because of the wide and wild variety of the spelling. I had it written down as chanfron, and Wikipedia has chanpron, but ngrams finds that chamfron is most popular (using the word popular quite loosely) and the OED only gives us chamfron or chamfrain.

In the wild: The Viennese museum of Arms and Armour, back in 2011. I told you I hoard words; I thought it was time to get onto my back-catalogue. It also turns up in Cotgrave, who I do recommend browsing.

Usefulness: 4, unless you're writing historical fiction, or touring an armoury museum.

Vocitated

Meaning: named or called.

Usefulness: 2 (It strikes me as a satisfyingly annoying way to ask someone's name "And what are you vocitated, old chap?" or introduce yourself: "I am occasionally vocitated as The Antipodean.")

Logofascination: 1 (The English version was invented by Sir Thomas, who is the sole citation in the OED.)

In the wild: Occasionally; someone's already taken it as a Twitter handle, worse luck.

Penitissim

Meaning: Innermost.

Usefulness: 2 (Could lead to some confusion if used carefully, which Rabelais might have been counting on.)

Logofascination: 1 (Originating in Pantagruel, this is probably a Rabelaisian coinage, although it's from a common enough Latin root, penitus. The OED has Sir Thomas' Ekskybalauron as the sole citation, since it is the main English source. I can't help but wonder if it's in the OED to help explicate Rabelais, much as most of Cotgrave exists for that purpose.

The really fascinating thing about this word, though, is that Ekskybalauron was published before Sir Thomas' Rabelais translation - they are only a year apart, but this suggests that he was already working on the translation, and had thought about how to Anglicise this passage.)

In the wild: Besides the piece on neologism I linked to recently, it's also cited in a rather useful dissection of the original.

Pasquinade

Meaning: a lampoon, satire or libel. Cotgrave:

The name of an Image, or Poste in Rome, whereon Libels and defamatorie Rimes are fastened, and fathered; also, as Pasquille.  A Pasquill; a Libell clapt on a Poste, or Image.

Usefulness: 2 (The reply-all email, the passive-agressive post-it, the anonymous online outburst, the aggrieved graffito; pasquinades all, and all potentially as comic.)

Logofascination: 1 (Derived from the nickname of a statue in Rome, on which such things were posted - for more on the statue, and the etymology of lampoon as a bonus, see here.)

In the wild: First encountered at LTA (see here for one in Latin) and then in the post linked to above, which mentioned Rabelais.

Amphibologies

Meaning: Those self-contradictory words listed in emails about the craziness of English; 'to dust', for example, can mean removing something or adding something.  As Cotgrave says:

A doubtfull, or double, meaning in one, or many, words.

Usefulness: 1 ("We like to call this the amphibologies building; our sales team and legal team share the space.")

Logofascination: 1 (Partly because it seems to be the theme this week - see below - and partly because it means I can use one of my favourite Much Ado About Nothing quotes: "There's a double meaning in that!"  Also because since I learnt that the Greeks had this problem, I wonder if they had the equivalent lists of the wackiness of the Greek language.)

In the wild: So, this week Stan Carey discussed fulsome, and linked to his previous post on chuffed (which is where I ran into amphibolous) and the ever-awesome Dinosaur Comics take on these things. LTA then mentioned auto-antonyms and a plethora of posts on the classical variety, and then (no, really) Ed Latham wrote an excellent-but-annoying* post about literally becoming (already being?) one of these words, not that he used any of the fancy technical terms.

Torchecul

Meaning: Sir Thomas provides the unusually coy "wipe-breech" as a synonym in the chapter title, but later on translates Rabelais' simple torchecul as a list: "arsewisps, bumfodders, tail-napkins, bunghole cleansers, and wipe-breeches."  Cotgrave tells us that it is a "wispe for the tayle".

Usefulness: 2 (Though I suspect Rabelais and Sir Thomas would give a fancy word for toilet paper a 1.)

Logofascination: 1 (This many posts in, and words still surprise me: torche-, a French word meaning wipe, is from the Latin torqueo - twist, wind, bend, torment.  Torqueo is at the root of thwart, torch, torque, tort, torture and nasturtium, nose-twisting flowers that they are.  Also, of course, the -tort word family: contort, distort, extort, intort, obtort, retort.  I suspect this ended up in torchecul as per Cotgrave's 'wispe' - a twist of something with which to wipe the tail.)

In the wild: It's not in the OED, which I think is a bit unfair. Someone has helpfully posted a photo of the relevant page of an illuminated Rabelais here.

Sercroupierizing

Meaning: serial rumpy-pumpy, as in, with one person and then another.

Usefulness: 3 (I can only imagine this being used in a derogatory sense, so usefulness depends on your need for such a descriptor; discussing rugby scandals, perhaps?)

Logofascination: 1 (Invented by Sir Thomas to expand Rabelais' French - see quotes below. I used rumpy-pumpy in the definition not for fear of offending your delicate sensibilities but to allude to croup.    Ser- is fairly straightforward, and presumably from the same root as series. Croup is an older word meaning the rump or hindquarters of a horse, and is actually the root of croupier.)

In the wild: No.

Volery

Meaning: A flock or flight of birds, or a large aviary - Cotgrave:

A great cage, or coope wherein birds have roome ynough to flutter.

Usefulness: 2 (Mainly to trick people; I was quite excited when I saw this word, because I liked the idea of something full of voles.)

Logofascination: 2 (This might be coloured by my disappointment on discovering that voleries are not, in fact, full of voles, but it is an example of the quirks of word formation. From the French word voliere of the same meaning, in turn from voler, to fly, and etymologically unrelated to the vole.)

In the wild: Gets mentioned occasionally as an exotic collective noun.

Emblustricate

Meaning:  To bewilder. Cotgrave borrows some synonyms from incornifistibulating to define the French version:

To trouble, blunder, or or pester the mind with, to beat the braines about.

Usefulness: 1 (It just sounds right: "I"m just so emblustricated!" "Your emblustrications won't work this time, my friend." "I managed to emblustricate the boss enough that he just agreed to my pay rise!")

Logofascination: 1 (Even if it weren't a 0-degree word, the OED etymology note would improve its rating: "Whimsically formed to render the equally fantastic French emburelucoquer." We who are logofascinated salute you, oh distant lexicographer.)

In the wild: not really.

Bougetier

Meaning: Cotgrave*: A budget-maker... as in Bougette.  (Bougette: A little coffer, or trunke of wood, covered with leather, wherewith the women of old time carried their jewels, attires, and trinkets at their saddle bowes, when they rid into the countrey; now gentlemen call so, both any such trunke; and the box, or till of their Cabinets wherein they keepe their money; also, a little male, pouch, or budget.)

Usefulness: 1 (Apologies for the intermittent posting recently; by day I'm an accountant, or, as my new business cards will proclaim, a bougetier. Budgets, whether the bags or chests of old, or the spreadsheets of new, take time and energy from important things like how many synonyms Sir Thomas had for bodily functions.)

Logofascination: 1 (Etymologically, budgets are little bags, related to bulges and bellies, and by meaning, to postmen. The male mentioned by Cotgrave above is our mail.)

In the wild: Since it's technically a French word, only on French sites. If you think they're wild, you need to get out more.

Lecanomancy

Meaning: Cotgrave: divination by water in a basin. Often involves adding something to the water and observing the patterns: oil, tiles, etc.

Usefulness: 3 (I might have been fascinated 31 -mancys ago, but things are at the point where even my mother is over the -mancys. There is one more, but it's pretty boring so I'll be doing the most interesting of the other -mancys out there and then stopping.  These have all been from the one chapter of the third book of Gargantua and Pantagruel, for those of you who missed the start.)

Logofascination: 2 (Divination by dish: pretty straightforward, but highlights the lack of other descendants from the λεκάνη root.)

In the wild: No, but I'm rather fond of the intro to the Wikipedia article: "a form of divination which, like many ancient forms of divination, has multiple interpretations".  I wonder sometimes if this is because only  three people ever practiced them. )

Tragedy

Meaning: Etymologically, the song of the billy-goat. No, really. Here's Cotgrave with a more traditional* definition:

a statelie Play whose conclusion is dolefull, and doubtfull.

Usefulness: 2 (Very useful, but downgraded due to overuse.)

Logofascination: 1 (I'm sure some of you knew this etymology already, but it's just such a great story. Plus, goats. The OED entry refers to Mr Flickinger's article from 1913, available here if you're after 20 pages of philology on the matter. It should be pointed out that the OED entry hasn't been updated since 1913, so there may well be more recent scholarship on the matter.  For those of you who haven't heard it before, tragedy is from the Greek for male goat - tragos - and song, but no-one can really agree on the reason for this.)

In the wild: See if you can find a newspaper that doesn't use it.

Chiromancy

Meaning: Cotgrave, ever honest:

Palmistrie; a guessing at ones fortune by the markes, or making, of his hand.

Usefulness: 3 (I suppose you could extend it to the practice of judging people by their handshake, but it's not the most interesting of words.)

Logofascination: 2 (From the Greek for hand and divination, of course, and therefore related to chironomatic. And, yes, chiropractors.)

In the wild: Palmistry is one of the more well known -mancys, so there are any number of discussions out there. Of course, what one chiromancer considers blatantly obvious, another will dismiss as archaic nonsense, so if you must Google, do so wisely and widely.

Hydromancy

Meaning: Cotgrave:*

Divination by the observation of water, or by spirits appearing in it.

Usefulness: 2 (It covers a wide range of -mancys, including ceromancy and catoptromancy, the time-honoured witch-test, the mirror of Galadriel, and even raises your basic throwing-pebbles-into-water to a form of divination.)

Logofascination: 3 (The Greek hydro- is ultimately from the same root as water, and vodka, and otters.)

In the wild: Yes; as with pyromancy, there are those who confuse divination with spell-casting, and use it incorrectly. There's also a how-to video out there, this being the internet.

Metagrobolized

Meaning: Mystified, confused. Cotgrave has:

To dunce upon, to puzzle, or (too much*) beat the braines about.

Usefulness: 1

Logofascination: 1 (A Rabelaisian formation from the Greek mataios, vain or frivolous, and a French term, grabeller, which Cotgrave defines as "To garbell spices &c. (and hence) also, to examine precisely, sift neerely, looke narrowly, search curiously, into." I like the fact that the spelling of garbell is itself garbled into grabeller.)

In the wild: It's in Stalky and Co! That's right, this blog has allowed me to connect Sir Thomas and Kipling, albeit via Rabelais. 'The Impressionists' features this line: "Come to think of it, we have metagrobolised 'em."

Philogrobolized

Meaning: Cotgrave, definining Philogrobolizé du cerveau, or philogrobolized in the brain:

intoxicated, astonied, bedunced, at his wits end.

Usefulness: 1 (Besides that use, there's also the one suggested in The Horologicon: "It conveys a hangover, without ever having to admit that you've been drinking.")

Logofascination: 1 (Sir Thomas brought it into English, and has the only citation in the OED, but Rabelais might've formed this. It's related to metagrobolize - tomorrow's word - and the OED suggests that the philo- is the traditional compound, meaning love, but I suspect that it is meant to suggest philosophy or philosophising; their brains are overcome by too much thinking. I must admit to also being rather fond of the phrase philogrobolized in their brains.)

In the wild: no; the only other uses I've found are in other translations of Rabelais, or, as mentioned, The Horologicon.

Septentrional

Meaning: Cotgrave:

Northerlie, of or in the North.

Usefulness: 1 (OK, it might not be that useful, but it's a ten dollar word you can bandy about, and it sounds good: septentrional. I'm proposing it as the antonym for Antipodean; anyone north of the equator is a septentrionan.)

Logofascination: 1 (From the Latin for seven plough-oxen, referring to Ursa Major or Minor - the OED has Major, so I'm going with that.  Either way, it's because those stars can help you find North... if you're in the Northern hemisphere, of course. The Southern Cross is the southern equivalent; it can be used to find south if you're ever below the equator.)

In the wild:  Digging about in Trove, (don't blame me if you get lost in there) I found a rather lovely piece from 1911 on the British Navy coming to Cromarty, and how much Sir Thomas would've appreciated it. As if his writing on the subject were not enough to mark him one of the logofascinated, our anonymous Englishman's casual use of a word like septentrional in his second-last paragraph is a dead giveaway.

Lurgy

Meaning: a generic disease, often used to describe flu of various sorts.

Usefulness: 1 (When you have one, as I do. Doctors talk vaguely about viruses, but we all know they mean lurgi.)

Logofascination: 1 (Possibly invented by the Goon Show, this word has been particularly useful to diseased bloggers: the Inky Fool considered its possible origins, and Lynneguist linked to a comprehensive World Wide Words post and a video on cooties. I'm interested in the spelling issue - the Goons spelt it lurgi, as I normally do, but the OED has lurgy.  Here's hoping those links will keep you busy, as I may need a night or two off to do battle with it.)

In the wild: Mainly in the UK, and dying out in books, if ngram is to be believed.

Aleuromancy

Meaning: divination by baked goods with some kind of prophecy or philosophy implanted; fortune cookies are an obvious example.

Usefulness: 1 (Fancy words for common things are always useful.)

Logofascination: 2 (The spelling is an issue; Sir Thomas has alentomancy - which I think sounds nicer - probably influenced by Cotgrave's alebromantie which is in turn probably a mis-reading or -hearing of alevromantie. The OED assures me that it's aleuromancy, from the Greek for flour, and cites a corrected passage.)

In the wild: It's the internet: someone performs divination via photos of flour on tumblr*. Perhaps I should ask them to divine how you will subscribe to this blog after Google Reader dies (along with what little affection I had left for Google). Heck, I should ask how I'm going to read any of the 43 obscure things I subscribe to.