Ely — Words of the week

Electricity. Without it, we couldn’t run life-saving machinery or straighten our hair (among other things). But have you ever wondered why it’s called ‘electricity’? Don’t worry, I’ve asked ChatGPT so you don’t have to.

Like a lot of words of the week, ‘electricity’ has its roots in ancient Greek. It comes from the Greek word ‘ἤλεκτρον’ (AKA elektron), which means ‘amber’ after the yellow fossilised tree resin which caused Jeff Goldblum, Sam Neill et al so many issues in Jurassic Park.

Why? Well, the ancient Greeks noticed that when they rubbed amber with fur, it attracted small objects like feathers or bits of straw. They attributed that to a mysterious force within the amber. In the 16th and 17th centuries, scientists began to study similar phenomena in other materials (like using glass rods to generate static electricity), and coined the term ‘electricity’ to describe it. That was based on Latinising that Greek word ‘elektron’, and adding the suffix ‘-ity’ which denotes a state or condition (other examples of that include ‘equality’, ‘flexibility’ and ‘simplicity’).

Over time, as our scientific understanding of electricity expanded, we started to use the term to cover the whole range of electrical phenomena, including electric currents, electromagnetic fields and electrical energy.

As I’m writing about electricity while in Ely, a region previously known for its eel population, I think I have to spend a little bit of time talking about electric eels. They can generate electric shocks of up to 600 volts to stun prey or scare off predators. They can also deliver multiple shocks in rapid succession to immobilise whatever it is they’re trying to eat or frighten. This is down to specialised organs made up of thousands of electrocytes, which are electrically excitable cells (I don’t know what that means, but I like the sound of it). These organs can generate both high-voltage electric discharges for defence, and low-voltage ones for navigating and communicating. They can also detect minute electric fields generated by the muscle contractions of nearby prey. Electric eels can grow to over 8 feet (2.5 meters) long (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK) and weigh up to 44 pounds (20 kilos). Thankfully they’re native to the Amazon and Orinoco River basins in South America, so you’re unlikely to run into one if you decide to take a dip in the Great Ouse.

Gratuitous Jeff-Goldblum-with-his-shirt-off scene from Jurassic Park. You're welcome.

The Hay Festival, a literary festival in Wales that I’ve been to a few times (because I is well intellectual) has been doing a virtual version this year, because of you-know-what. I watched one sesh with Greg Jenner, writer and historian extraordinaire, where he briefly mentioned the origins of the word ‘tawdry’. And turns out it has an interesting backstory, which I’m now going to share with you, you lucky people.

If you describe something as ‘tawdry’, you’re saying it’s showy, and cheap or crappy quality. You can also use it to describe something that’s immoral, like a ‘tawdry extramarital affair’. So, where did it come from?

Allow me to transport you back to 7th century England. The daughter of the king of East Anglia is a young princess called Etheldrida, who’s known as Audrey (and who can blame her with a name like Etheldrida? Although spare a thought for her sisters, who were called Wendreda and Seaxburh). After a life which basically consisted of not having sex (she took a vow of virginity, despite having two husbands), Audrey died in the year 679 of a throat tumour. The Venerable Bede recorded this as a just punishment because poor old Audrey liked a lace necklace, and this vanity apparently meant she deserved to die from cancer. Wow. Nice one, Bede.

Despite this, Audrey still managed to get beatified (AKA saintified) as she founded an abbey in Ely (just up the road from where I’m writing this, and today the site of the gothic gorgeousness that is Ely Cathedral). Fast forward to the 16th century and admirers of St Audrey are buying saintly merch in the form of lace necklaces, called St Audrey’s laces. Over time, this gets shortened to ‘taudrey laces’.

100 years later, the Puritans are everywhere, and Audrey’s statement necklaces are now seen as old-fashioned and cheap. So it’s not long before the word ‘tawdry’ comes to mean the same. This meaning was cemented by Shakespeare in ‘A Winter’s Tale’ – the character Mopsa, who’s a bit of a country bumpkin, has the line: ‘Come, you promised me a tawdry-lace and a pair of sweet gloves’, which shows how unsophisticated she is.

I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for Aud. The woman hung on to her virginity through two marriages, then founded an abbey, and this is what she’s remembered for? Shame.