laconic

If you’ve ever had a text from someone consisting entirely of the letter ‘k’, you’ve been on the receiving end of laconic. As an adjective, it describes a way of speaking or writing that uses the absolute minimum number of words to get a point across. No padding, no pleasantries, no ‘I hope this email finds you well’. Just straight to the point, like a cricket ball to the crotch.

But, why ‘laconic’? Well, it comes from Lakonikos – a Greek adjective for anything relating to Laconia, a region on the south-eastern part of the Peloponnese peninsula. Laconia was home to Sparta and (obviously) the Spartans, whose six-packs you may remember from Zack Snyder’s naked chest-fest, 300. The Spartans were not big talkers. And while other Greeks like the Athenians were busy writing philosophy, performing tragedies and inventing democracy, the Spartans were honing an arguably more useful skill: saying a great deal by saying almost nothing.

The most famous example of Spartans being spartanly (yep) with their words comes from Philip II of Macedon. He was a man who loved to open a can of whup-ass (and dad to Alexander the Great), having taken Macedon from a fairly insignificant kingdom to a power that conquered most of Ancient Greece in less than 25 years. Turning his attention to Sparta, he sent a message asking whether he should come as a friend or a foe. The reply was ‘Neither’. He then sent the message:

If I invade Laconia, I shall turn you out.

The Spartans replied with a single word:

If.

There’s also a story from Plutarch of a Spartan mother sending her son off to battle. After handing him his shield, her farewell advice consisted of five words: ‘Either this or upon this’, meaning ‘Come back with your shield, or on it’ – returning without your shield meant you’d thrown it away to run faster (the ancient Greek equivalent of updating your LinkedIn profile before handing in your notice). Inspiring and absolutely terrifying.

So next time someone accuses you of being curt in an email or a text, tell them you weren’t being rude, you’re just channelling your inner Gerard Butler/Greek warrior. Sparta would be proud. Although they probably wouldn’t say so.

(PS The Philip vs Sparta story would have been great if it ended ‘Philip did not invade Laconia’, which is what ChatGPT told me when I was researching this. When I checked it elsewhere, which thankfully I always do since ChatGPT told me a bunch of lies previously, it turns out that Philip did indeed invade Laconia, devastating large parts of it and kicking the Spartans out. In hindsight, maybe a few more words might have helped.)

condolence

You’ve probably offered someone your condolences at some point in your life. It’s a common enough word that we use when someone’s suffered a bereavement. But have you ever wondered what your condolences actually are, and why you’re offering them? (I’ll try to keep it light.)

‘Condolences’ comes from the Latin word ‘condolere’, which means ‘to suffer with’. It’s made up of the prefix ‘con-’ which means ‘with’ or ‘together’ (as in ‘connect’ and ‘congregate’) and ‘dolere’, meaning ‘to grieve’ or ‘to feel pain’. So when you offer someone your condolences you’re actually saying that you share their grief or pain. Nice, right?

We’ve been offering our condolences in English since the late 16th century. And you can also use it as a verb. So you can ‘condole’ with someone – but they might think you’re a bit weird if you say you’re going to do that.

Time to put the fun in to funeral (sorry), with some facts. Alexander the Great’s funeral, which was held in Babylon in 323 BCE, is up there as one of the most elaborate ever held. According to historical accounts, the funeral procession included over 20,000 soldiers and a 100-foot-high funeral pyre, covered in gold and surrounded by treasures and offerings.

The prize for the most bizarre (and also, most awesome) funeral goes to the American author and journalist Hunter S Thompson, who died in 2005. Called (by himself) his ‘blast-off ceremony’, it featured a 153-foot-tall cannon shaped like a double-thumbed fist, a symbol that Thompson often used in his writing, clutching a peyote button (a small cactus containing psychoactive alkaloids, including mescaline). The cannon was emblazoned with the words ‘Faster, Higher’ and blasted Thompson’s ashes into the air during the funeral, accompanied by a 10-minute fireworks display. It was watched by celebs including Johnny Depp, Sean Penn, Bill Murray and Jack Nicholson. That’s one helluva way to go.