WHAT IT MEANS

In our last episode, I mean in my last blog, I used the word "inept," in the sense of not being able to do something properly. I thought about that word for a while. The "in" part must mean "not" so the word means "not ept," except there is no such word as "ept"in English. This is one of those curious aspects of our language that makes it so difficult to learn. I got our my two-volume The World Book Encyclopedia Dictionary to explored the word. It is from the Latin word ineptus which derives from the negative prefix in plus the word aptus meaning apt. My gosh, there it is, "apt." Someone who is inept is "not apt." It was those old Romans who monkeyed with the vowels changing "a" to "e." I bet they did that just to annoy their Saxon enemies who they knew would adopt Latin words into their language.

Being an obsessive person, I launched into further dictionary explorations. There are several meaning to apt: likely, appropriate, quick to learn. All derive from the Latin meaning of aptus, fitting or joined. My little brain realized adapt must also come from this same source. Adapt is to make something fit. Adaptation is something I deal with all the time–like connecting your DVD to the VCR so it plays through and old TV. Adaptation is the solution to the old adage, "You can't put square pegs in round holes." Sure you can. You adapt. You just need the right tools, either a knife to whittle the ends of the square pegs or a very large hammer to put those pegs in their places whether they like it or not. (I suppose today it wouldn't be politically correct to call them square pegs. They are "roundness-challenged pegs" or maybe "exceptional pegs." What we're really supposed to do is make the round holes square. Boy, am I ever going to get into trouble with that.)

Then I thought of another word, "adept." I knew it had a meaning of being skilled and that it also had an older meaning related to alchemy. It turns up in fantasy novels as referring to skilled magicians. Since "adept" looks so much like "inepet." I assumed they had the same root. I was at first quite disappointed to find that the medieval Latin adeptus came from the verb adispisci to attain. How is this possible that two such similar words should have different derivations? Ah, but I was forgetting everything I had learned in Latin class. The various forms of verbs can depart substantially from their root forms. It turns out that the perfect participle for this verb is out old friend aptus, so much hunch was right.

In the course of investigating this I discovered that the word "apt" in Czech is schopný, in Danish, dygtig, in Estonian, taibukas, and in Latvian, apdavinats . From that limited investigation, only Latvian seems to have used the Latin root, or perhaps some Indo-European root.

Then in the middle of a sleepless night, I thought up this sentence: "The inept adept adapted and became apt."

All of this probably bores both of my readers to tears. I can't help it. I find origins of language interesting. If that makes me rather eccentric, well I'm in good company. I have been reading George Guest's book, A Guest at Cambridge. Dr. Guest had been organist and choirmaster at St. John's College, Cambridge, England, for years and years. In that time Guest got to know quite a few clergy. From what I have read, the Church of England seems to have had more than its fair share of odd-duck clerics. Think of the Rev'd Charles L. Dodgson (Lewis Carroll) for example. Someone whose hobby is taking photos of little girls not wearing any clothes is pretty strange. In any case, Dr. Guest tells a story about Minor Cannon Aubrey Baxter whose hobby was the origin of words. One day Baxter happened on a mother and her young children who were touring Chester Cathedral. "'Good morning, madam, do you know how we came by the word "journeyman" It comes from the French word, jour = day, and signifies a person who is paid by the day, rather than the week, month or year.' And he went off, leaving behind one very perplexed lady."

Ah, yes. A friend of mine once wrote a letter of recommendation which described be as being like a Victorian Church of England minister who has tea in the morning with the Ladies Missionary Society, then retires to his study in the afternoon to write the definitive commentary on 1 Corinthians. Yes, well, the tea drinking part is right, although they don't make tea in our woman's group.

Maybe it would be a good time to have a cup of tea. Tea drinking is one thing I'm usually not inept at. Except for the time the handle fell off the mug.

May the Lord bless you on your journey and greet you on your arrival.

Wayne