German

ur-text

Like lots of previous words of the week, I heard this on Kermode & Mayo’s Take, in reference to new horror film ‘Substance’ (which sounds awesome). An ur-text is the original or earliest version of a text, the foundation that later versions are based on. The term’s often used in literature, history and religious studies to describe a document that’s thought to be the source of all later editions, translations or interpretations. The concept of an ur-text is important in academic circles, because seeing the original can help us understand how ideas or stories have evolved over time.

Now, etymology. The ‘text’ bit of ‘ur-text’ is (hopefully) obvious. But what about the ‘ur’? Well, it’s a German prefix meaning ‘original’ or ‘primitive’. So ‘ur-text’ literally means ‘original text’. Why is it German? Because German literary theory, especially in the 19th and 20th centuries, has had a significant impact on the study of texts. For example, it’s influenced concepts like authenticity, interpretation and textual analysis, and scholars like Wolfgang Iser and Hans-Georg Gadamer have increased the term’s popularity in literary criticism. It’s also a concise way to refer to a complex idea which might need a longer explanation in English (although I think ‘OG text’ would work just as well, but maybe that’s why I’m not a literary academic).

A good example of an ur-text is Shakespeare’s First Folio (1623), the first collected edition of his works. The First Folio contains 36 plays, divided into three categories: comedies, histories and tragedies. It includes iconic works like Hamlet, Macbeth, Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Othello. Some plays, like The Tempest and Twelfth Night, were published for the first time in the Folio. Without it, many of Shakespeare’s works might have been lost, and generations of schoolkids would have nothing to moan about.

The First Folio was compiled by two of Shakespeare’s BFFs and fellow actors, John Heminges and Henry Condell. They wanted to preserve his work for future generations as many of the plays hadn’t been formally published, and only existed in scripts or incomplete versions. Well done, John and Hazza.

Around 750 copies of The First Folio were originally printed, and there are about 235 in existence today, most of which are in libraries and museums around the world. One copy of The First Folio sold for $9.98 million at auction in 2020. It was bought by Paul Allen, co-founder of Microsoft, and holds the record for the most expensive literary work sold at auction.

ennui

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash.

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash.

We’re probably all feeling some ennui at the moment. It’s a French word for being a bit bored and listless. Because it’s French, in my head it involves lots of languid fanning of one’s own face while sighing and lolling about on a chaise longue. And turns out that’s not far wrong.

Ennui comes from an Old French word, enui, meaning ‘annoyance’. That comes from the Latin ‘in odio’ which means ‘hatred’. At some point ‘enui’ gained an extra ‘n’, and became popular in the 18th century to describe the boredom felt by French youth, who were disappointed that the French Revolution hadn’t been as revolutionary as they’d hoped. This left them full of existential angst, AKA ennui. The meaning morphed again a century or so later, becoming a word expressing a dissatisfaction with the modern age and industrialisation. Lots of arty-farty types suffered from ennui at this time, poor lambs, and because of this it was seen as a mark of how clever you were – because the bourgeoisie were far too stupid to worry about important things like the futility of human existence.

The German version of ennui is ‘Weltschmerz’, which literally translates as ‘world pain’. The difference between the German and French versions is the whole listlessness thing – the Germans are just sad, without all the lying around. I guess they’re just too efficient for that #nationalstereotypes