evanescence

Today’s word of the week is brought to you by ‘I Capture the Castle’, a coming-of-age novel by Dodie Smith (who’s probably most famous for having written ‘The Hundred and One Dalmatians’). I’d never read it before, and if you haven’t either I thoroughly recommend it. It tells the story of Cassandra Mortmain, who lives with her bohemian but impoverished family in a crumbling castle in rural Suffolk in the 1930s. The family is made up of her beautiful but bored sister, Rose, her glamorous stepmother, Topaz (who enjoys dancing naked in the rain every now and again), her little brother Thomas, her eccentric novelist father who’s been suffering from crippling writer's block after publishing one successful book and Stephen, a sort of servant/adopted child who has an almighty crush on Cassandra. Honestly, it’s wonderful. And it’s also where I saw this word used in the following quote:

Perhaps he [Simon, Rose’s fiancé and Cassandra’s crush – yep, there’s a love triangle*] finds beauty saddening—I do myself sometimes. Once when I was quite little I asked Father why this was and he explained that it was due to our knowledge of beauty’s evanescence, which reminds us that we ourselves shall die. Then he said I was probably too young to understand him; but I understood perfectly.

Now if you, like me, were a teenager in the 90s, you’re probably thinking of American goth rockers Evanescence who released bangers like ‘Bring me to life’ and… actually, that’s the only one I can think of. And really, it’s a perfect name for an angsty alternative band. The word ‘evanescence’ is an adjective (a describing word) for something that’s temporary, ephemeral (another good word), or likely to be forgotten over time. Like fleeting moments, fading memories or the passage of time itself…

Sorry, I got a bit carried away there. Let’s come straight back down to earth with some etymology. ‘Evanescence’ comes from the Latin verb ‘evanescere’. That’s a combo of the prefix ‘e-’, meaning ‘out’ or ‘away’ (see also ‘eject’, ‘evict’ and ‘emit’, among others) and the verb ‘vanescere’ which means ‘to vanish or disappear’. That’s formed from ‘vanus’, meaning ‘empty’ or ‘vain’, and the suffix ‘-escere’ which indicates the beginning of a process or state. This suffix also turns up in words like ‘convalesce’ (to start getting better), ‘effervesce’ (to start bubbling or frothing) and ‘adolesce’ (to start being a stroppy teenager). Sorry, I think I sucked all the beauty out of it, didn’t I?

*If you factor in Stephen as well, then maybe it’s a love square? There’s also Neil, Simon’s brother, who I suspect may also be involved, but I haven’t finished it yet so I can’t be sure. Also, that would make it a love pentagon which is ridiculous.

trivia

You know what trivia is – information that’s usually quite interesting and perhaps not that widely known, but probably not that important. Also a thing that you have to have ready when you’re female and you tell a man you’re interested in something, and he immediately asks you to prove it (actual conversations with male friends: ‘I’m a big Star Wars fan.’ ‘Really? How many forms of communication is C-3PO fluent in*?’ And: ‘I love watching tennis.’ ‘Yes? How many French Opens has Nadal won**?’)

The word ‘trivia’ comes from Latin and is the plural form of ‘trivium’ (but don’t ever use the singular version because you’ll sound like a dick), which means ‘place where three roads meet’. In ancient Rome, ‘trivium’ was used to refer to the three subjects of the beginners’ liberal arts course at university, which were: grammar (my fave), rhetoric (the study and practice of persuasive public speaking) and logic (a branch of philosophy focusing on valid and sound reasoning). While these might not seem that trivial to us, the fact that ‘trivium’ was the name for the beginners’ class is probably why it’s since evolved to refer to less important information.

I asked my robot overlord, ChatGPT, to tell me some trivia, and here’s what it said:

  • Honey never spoils. Archaeologists have found pots of honey in ancient Egyptian tombs that are over 3,000 years old and still perfectly edible.

  • The shortest war in history occurred between Britain and Zanzibar in 1896. It lasted only 38 minutes.

  • The world’s oldest known recipe is for beer. It dates back to ancient Sumeria around 1800 BCE.

  • The Eiffel Tower in Paris was originally intended to be a temporary structure, built for the 1889 World’s Fair. It was almost dismantled afterward but was saved because of its value as a radio transmission tower.

  • The average person spends around six months of their lifetime waiting at red traffic lights.

  • The national animal of Scotland is the unicorn.

  • The world’s largest flower is the Rafflesia arnoldii, which can grow up to three feet in diameter and weigh up to 24 pounds. It’s also known for its distinctive smell, often likened to that of rotting flesh.

  • Astronauts’ height can change in space. Without the force of gravity compressing their spines, they can grow up to 2 inches taller while spending extended periods in space.

*It’s six million. Which I did know.

** It’s 14. Which I didn’t know. But I do now, and I’m ready for you, men.

algebra

SHUDDER. I was terrible at maths at school, and even the thought of algebra still fills me with horror. But, I’m all for feeling the fear and doing it anyway (except when it comes to sharks, which I’m also very scared of), which is why algebra is my word of the week. Also, it has an interesting backstory which isn’t, as you might assume, anything to do with Greek.

Before we get into that though, let’s have a quick refresher for anyone who, like me, can only vaguely remember their school days. Algebra is a branch of maths that focuses on studying mathematical symbols and the rules for manipulating those symbols to solve equations (that just sent another shiver down my spine), which apparently makes it easier to solve complex problems. Here’s a super-simple algebraic equation:

2x + 5 = 11

And here’s a really not simple explanation for how to solve it (thanks to my robot overlord, sorry ChatGPT, for doing the maths for me. Also, feel free to skip to the next paragraph if you just don’t care):

In this equation, ‘x’ is the variable, and the objective is to find the value of ‘x’. First, we isolate the variable ‘x’ by subtracting 5 from both sides of the equation:

2x + 5 - 5 = 11 - 5

This simplifies to:

2x = 6

Next, to isolate the variable ‘x’, we divide both sides of the equation by 2:

(2x)/2 = 6/2

This simplifies to:

x = 3

So, the solution to the equation is x = 3.

For anyone who’s still here, here’s why algebra is called algebra. The word comes from the Arabic phrase ‘al-jabr wa'l-muqabala’, which means ‘reunion of broken parts’ or ‘restoration and balancing’, referring to the process of restoring balance by transferring terms from one side of an equation to the other. Nice, right?

This rather romantic-sounding term was coined by the Persian mathematician Muhammad ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi in the 9th century. I have mixed feelings about Al-Khwarizmi because he came up with this lovely phrase (like), but he also pretty much invented algebra in his book ‘Kitab al-Jabr wa'l-Muqabala’ (don’t like). Just to make things even more complicated, his book was translated into Latin in the 12th century, which is when the west adopted the term (and discipline) ‘algebra’ and ruined many school children’s lives for centuries to come.

(Muhammad ibn Musa al-Khwarizmi also gets a prize for best job title ever: ‘astronomer and head of the library of the House of Wisdom’. Tough to fit on a business card though.)