Legal words

jiggery-pokery

I used this word in last week’s post, and a friend pointed out that it’s a bit of an odd one. So I thought I’d look into it a bit further. And it turns out it has a pretty interesting backstory (so thanks, Lorna).

Jiggery-pokery means dishonest or suspicious activity. It hit the headlines in 2015 when American Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia used it in a legal argument against his colleagues’ reasoning in a decision about Obamacare, accusing them of ‘interpretive jiggery-pokery’. This quintessentially British phrase isn’t used that much outside of our shores, and certainly not in American legal writing (although Scalia has form for using these types of words – apparently he wrote the word ‘argle-bargle’ in another decision previously). The earliest-known use of jiggery-pokery in writing was in the Berkshire Chronicle in 1845. But it goes back much earlier than that.

The first part comes from a Scottish word, ‘jouk’, which means to twist your body to avoid a blow. This later became ‘joukery’ or ‘jookery’ to describe underhand dealing or trickery. The second part comes from ‘pawky’, another Scottish word which means something is artfully shrewd (a ‘pawk’ is a trick). By 1686, some bright spark combined the two to come up with ‘joukery-pawkery’, used to refer to clever trickery or sleight of hand. You can find this in Sir Walter Scott’s 1816 novel The Black Dwarf (which doesn’t sound very PC):

‘…I canna shake mysell loose o’ the belief that there has been some jookery-paukery of Satan’s in a’ this…’

It wasn’t long before joukery-pawkery morphed into the more familiar jiggery pokery we get today.

(Oh, and in case you’re wondering, ‘argle-bargle’ is copious but meaningless talk or writing, or waffle.)

eavesdrop

As you’ll no doubt already know, to eavesdrop is to listen in to someone else’s convo without them knowing. But have you ever wondered what it has to do with ‘eaves’ and/or dropping stuff? Well, luckily I’m here to tell you, whether you want me to or not.

So, back in the day, ‘eavesdrop’ didn’t actually have anything to do with listening. It was actually much more literal, and referred to the water that fell from the eaves of a building (i.e. the edges of a roof which overhang the walls). The meaning then changed to refer to the ground where that water fell. In fact, there was an ancient law that meant when you were building your house you had to leave at least two feet between the edge of your eaves and your neighbour’s boundary. This was to make sure that any water dripping from your eaves stayed on your own land, thank you very much. There was even a legal term called ‘right of drip’ which entitled someone’s eaves to drip on their neighbour’s land (which sounds like a euphemism but isn’t). Eventually ‘eavesdrop’ morphed into a word describing people hanging around in that space under the eaves, listening in to conversations they shouldn’t be.

The original word ‘eavesdrop’ comes from an Old English word which goes all the way back to the ninth century. It has the fantastic spelling of ‘yfesdrype’ (and if you know how to pronounce that, will you marry me?).

Eavesdropping is a central plot point in a lot of well-known novels and stories. Here are some examples (SPOILER ALERTS):

A painting of some cardinals eavesdropping in the Vatican, by Henri Adolphe Laissement (that one in purple by the door is definitely telling the others to shut the fuck up).

A painting of some cardinals eavesdropping in the Vatican, by Henri Adolphe Laissement (that one in purple by the door is definitely telling the others to shut the fuck up).

  • the entire plot of What Maisie Knew by Henry James (which I wrote an essay on at university but never actually read) revolves around a child, the eponymous Maisie, overhearing various salacious details of her divorced parents’ love lives (I think – like I said, I never actually finished it)

  • Polonius gets stabbed in the arras while eavesdropping on Hamlet in, you’ve guessed it, Hamlet

  • the unending misery that is Atonement by Ian McEwan is all kicked off by a child overhearing what she thinks is a rape

  • all of Pride and Prejudice, and also Bridget Jones’ Diary, is centred on Lizzy Bennet/Bridget overhearing Colin Firth slagging her off.