maven

A ‘maven’ is someone who’s an expert or connoisseur in a particular field. They’re not just knowledgeable about it though – they’re also super passionate about their area of expertise. We generally use the term ‘maven’ to describe people whose insights and advice we value due to their understanding and experience. So you could describe me as a grammar and punctuation maven. Except for the ‘highly valued’ bit, as generally people just get annoyed with me when I tell them their apostrophes are in the wrong place.

Anyway, it’s not all about me. The etymology of ‘maven’ traces back to Yiddish, a language spoken by Ashkenazi Jews that blends elements of German, Hebrew and other languages. It comes from ‘meyvn’, which means ‘an expert’. That, in turn, comes from the Hebrew word ‘mevin’, which means ‘one who understands’.

Despite sounding quite old-fashioned, ‘maven’ is actually a fairly late addition into English, not making an appearance until the mid-20th century. That’s thanks to the influence of Yiddish-speaking Jewish immigrants in the United States, especially in New York. It wasn’t long before the term was being used more broadly beyond the Jewish community, especially in marketing and media circles.

‘Maven’ saw a resurgence in the late 20th century, partly thanks to its use in the marketing and tech industries. Author Malcolm Gladwell popularised it further in his 2000 book The Tipping Point, which is sadly nothing to do with the weirdly compelling ITV teatime gameshow. In it (the book, not the gameshow), he described mavens as people who have a wealth of information and seek to pass it on to others. I wish I could say I know this because I’ve read Malcolm Gladwell, but ChatGPT told me. I’m clearly not a Malcolm Gladwell maven.

maven

A maven is someone who’s exceptionally experienced or knowledgeable about something – basically it’s a fancy-dancy way of calling someone an expert. So you could say ‘Emma is an etymology expert’ (oh, thanks).

’Maven’ comes from the Yiddish (a West Germanic language spoken by Jews) word ‘meyvn’ which means ‘one who understands’. It’s related to the Hebrew verb ‘bin’, which means ‘to understand’.

‘Maven’ was made popular by a guy called William Safire who, to be frank, sounds like my perfect man (if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s dead). He wrote a feature in The New York Times called ‘The Maven’s Word of the Day’ where he explored ‘new words, vogue phrases and the intriguing roots of everyday discourse – with occasionally crotchety observations on everything from proper usage to impropaganda’. The column aimed to entertain and educate readers about the English language and its quirks (it’s like looking in a mirror – even if he may have had one or two more readers than me). It ran for more than 30 years under Safire, and he wrote an impressive 1,300 instalments.

Safire receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2006 (White House photo by Shealah Craighead)

Much like me, William didn’t have any real credentials for his wordy expertise, saying after being hired to write his column, ‘So what if I hadn’t finished college [he dropped out after two years ar Syracuse University], or even studied Latin? In the language dodge, I figured, a cat could look at a king.’ That’s one of the reasons he chose the word ‘maven’ as his title, as he said it contained ‘a note of self-mockery’. Also much like me, he was happy to play fast and loose with language if it suited, saying ‘I welcome new words, or old words used in new ways provided the result is more precision, added color or greater expressiveness’. Despite that, he was a staunch defender of correct English, and was instrumental in getting Safeway stores to change their express-lane signs from ‘Ten items or less’ to ‘Ten items or fewer’. SWOON.

Safire didn’t just wax lyrical about words. He was also a speechwriter for Richard Nixon where he coined several memorable phrases, including describing critics of the administration as ‘nattering nabobs of negativism’ in a speech for Vice-President Spiro Agnew. He won the Pulitzer Prize for commentary in 1978, and was described by President George W Bush as ‘a voice of independence and principle’, adding ‘American journalism is better for the contributions of William Safire’.

What a legend.

tchotchke

Tchotchke, which is pronounced chahch-ke, is a Yiddish word that refers to small decorative items, trinkets or knick-knacks. So that’s things that look pretty or are sentimental, but are basically useless (AKA things my flat is full of). Tchotchkes are also often quite cheap and perhaps a little bit tacky, like souvenir keyrings or fridge magnets (I also have loads of those), for example. The term can also be used to describe a collection of these types of items.

As I mentioned, tchotchke is from Yiddish, the Jewish language that developed in central and eastern Europe. It comes from the Slavic word ‘čačka’ or ‘čača’, which simply means a small object or toy (and I don’t think is anything to do with poop). It’s actually a fairly well-known word in the States (I came across it in an article about recruitment while doing some research for, well, an article about recruitment). It probably made its way there via Jewish immigrants in the early 20th century and has since become more widely used in American English over time.

There are lots of other, thankfully easier to spell, words in English that we also get from Yiddish. Like:

• chutzpah: an adjective (describing word) for someone who’s got lots of confidence (possibly too much) – ‘she’s got a lot of chutzpah considering how many tchotchkes she has in her flat’

• klutz – a noun (person, place or thing) for a clumsy or awkward person – ‘she’s such a klutz, she fell over all her tchotchkes’

• schlep – a verb (doing word) meaning to carry or haul something (or yourself) with difficulty – ‘she schlepped those tchotchkes all the way from London’

• schmooze – a verb meaning to suck up to someone: ‘she was schmoozing the tchotchke sellers to try to get some freebies’

• schmutz – dirt or filth: ‘her tchotchkes are covered in schmutz’

• shmaltz – an adjective for something that’s excessively sentimental or metaphorically cheesy (also, rendered chicken or goose fat): ‘her tchotchkes are so shmaltzy’.