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Richard Walker

Is "Flannel" Celtic?

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Why is the cloth flannel called flannel?

One theory is that it a borrowing from Welsh gwlanen, 'flannel', which according to the OED is < gwlân, 'wool' (the traditional material for making flannel) and before that < Old Celtic *wlanā

Wiktionary, on the other hand, suggests it was borrowed into Middle English from Anglo-Norman flanelle, 'wool', ultimately via Gaulish from the same Old Celtic root *wlanā. This in turn would have come from a Proto-Indo-European root *wele-.

Either way a Celtic origin seems quite likely and of course it's possible both these origins, the Welsh and the Anglo-Norman, might have influenced the Middle English word, flaunneol. Here's a quote from c. 1300 I found in the Middle English Compendium

Flaunneol & bursas

This is earlier than the first quotation given in the OED. I believe Bursas refers to traditional fabrics, silk, velvet and the like, from Bursa in Turkey. 

The same PIE root is also thought to be the origin of wool, < Old English wull, < Proto Germanic *wullō. There are a host of related words in different Indo-European languages, Two interesting ones are Greek lenos, which I'm guessing was wlenos in Archaic Greek, before Greel lost the /w/ consonant, and the doublet lana 'wool' and vellus 'fleece' in Latin.

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Richard Walker

'The Bonny Rowan Tree' - Why do we call it 'Rowan'?

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A friend has a rowan tree, also called the mountain ash, in her garden, which set me wondering (a) if I could get hold of some rowanberry jelly, just to try; and (b) where name rowan comes from.

The answer to (a) is no, unless I make myself or pay an exorbitant delivery charge. The answer to (b) is that it's probably named for the bright red colour of its berries. The immediate origin seems to be Scandinavian (the Swedish is rönn) but there is a suggestion that it may go back ro the Proto-Indo-European root *ruidh-, 'red'.

This is the PIE colour word we are most confident of, because words that can be traced back to it, with meanings related to 'redness', are found in so many branches of the Indo-European language family. Some examples are English ruddy, Sanskrit rudhira, Polish rudy, Welsh rhudd, Lithuanian raudona, Latin rufus, Greek erythros.

Other English cognates include red, of course; rust, russet, rouge, roan and ruby. A particularly interesting one is ruddock - Britain's favourite bird, known today as the robin, but called in Old English rudduc, 'little red'. Here's a later example I found in the Middle English Compendium (sote = 'sweet' and the two thrushes are the song and the missel.)

How sote this seson is..The thrustelis & the thrusshis..The ruddok & the Goldfynch. 

Picture credit: George Chernilevsky, Vinnytsia, Ukraine, Rowan Berries, on Wikimedia, Licensed under Creative Commons.

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Richard Walker

Oh, Vocative, Where are You? A Grammatical Feature Lost in English

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Edited by Richard Walker, Saturday 25 April 2026 at 00:09

I don't know why but I've always had a soft spot for the vocative. I wish English still had it. What is it? Basically a special form of a name you use when addressing someone or something.

A really nice and surprising example, if you didn't know about it, is Scottish Gaelic Seumas, 'James', which becomes the vocative A Sheumais when you directly address someone of that name. This is pronounced uh-haymish and now you know where the name Hamish comes from.

I don't know any Gaelic but I know some Greek. In Greek, when speaking directly to someone you use the vocative. For some names the end of the name may change, for example if you address Kostas it will be as Kosta, Yiannis as Yianni. Other names may not change their spelling but are still regarded as vocatives; for example Maria or Anna, and I think that speakers, even non-native ones,  sense them as vocatives

This can be confusing to people learning Greek, who when hearing someone address Kostas, using the vocative Kosta of course, tend to assume he is called Kosta when he's actually called Kostas (hope you're keeping up!) Even more confusing, if you speak about Kostas, you must refer to him as 'The Kostas', Ο Κοστας.

The vocative is also used when addressing someone by a title-based form. For example 'Doctor' in Greek is Yiatros but when I address the doctor I have to say Yiatre. I could even speak to my dog (skylos) in the vocative, Kaló skyle!, 'Good dog'.

Originally all the branches of the large Indo-European family used word endings to mark what role a noun played in a sentence, for example being the object of an action ('I patted the dog')'or being a possessor ('the dog's dinner) or a recipient ('I gave the dog a bone'). There were eight different 'cases' altogether, including our vocative. 

Over time some branches of the Indo European family have eroded or abolished the case system in favour of things like word order, and nowadays cases have largely disappeared from all the Germanic languages bar Icelandic and German itself, and all the Romance languages bar Romanian. This included the poor vocative, now only hanging on in Icelandic and Romanian respectively. 

But it's alive and well in Greek, as we have seen and in many other branches as well. An interesting exception is Russian, which unlike most Slavic languages lacks a vocative. It was abolished by the Russian government in 1918 on the grounds that it was archaic and little used. However, and this is fascinating, an informal 'neo-vocative' has apparently emerged in Modern Russian. for example Sasha would become Sash.

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Richard Walker

Ablaut Reduplication

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Edited by Richard Walker, Sunday 8 September 2024 at 23:15

My title describes something most of us have known about all our lives without realising it.

Why do 'hip hop' and 'ding dong' sound right, but 'hop hip' and 'dong ding' sound wrong somehow? It's not just familiarity, there is a rule at work, as we shall seen. If I invented a new expression 'squop-squip' it wouldn't sound as satisfactory as the alternative 'squip-squop', because the first version doesn't follow the rule, whereas the second does.

Reduplication is when a word is repeated two or more times. In English there are several kinds of reduplication, for example it can be used to amplify the sense of a word, so 'very very' is stronger than simple 'very' and 'big big' is stronger than just 'big'.

Rhyming reduplication is also very common: higgledy piggledy, silly billy, willy-nilly, Humpty Dumpty, raggle-taggle, easy-peasy (lemon squeezy), teeny-weeny, fuddy-duddy and so on.

Ablaut reduplication is a form of reduplication following a pattern called ablaut, in which semantically related words coming from the same root keep the same consonants but vary the vowel sounds in a predictable way. A classical example in English is sing, sang, sung. Notice that if you say these words aloud, you say the first at the front of the mouth, the second further back, and the third at the back of the mouth.

We have many expressions like; tip-top, tick tock, flim-flam, pitter-patter, jim-jam, and they pretty well all follow the ablaut pattern, with the first part being a higher vowel from front-of-mouth, and the second a lower vowel from further back. We even have some examples with three elements, such as tic-tac-toe and bish bash bosh.

This ablaut pattern is thought to be inherited from the ancient and lost language that is the ancestor of moist European and West Asian languages today. This language had no written form that we know of, and no longer exists, but has been extensively reconstructed from its more recent descendants.

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