Lev Uspensky - you and your name - read the book for free. You and your name You and your name

Annotation:

A book about language, about a special, little-known, but extremely interesting area of ​​linguistics - onomatology, the science of people's personal names.

What did and does a name mean for a person? Why do some names live while others are outdated? You will learn about names - pagan and Christian, Eastern and Western, about the names of literary characters and heroes of past eras in this book. The author, using sometimes funny, sometimes paradoxical and implausible-sounding, but always scientifically accurate examples, talks about the origin of proper names, patronymics and surnames in our country and abroad.

Lev USPENSKY

YOU AND YOUR NAME

annotation
A book about language, about a special, little-known, but extremely interesting area of ​​linguistics - onomatology, the science of people's personal names.

What did and does a name mean for a person? Why do some names live while others are outdated? You will learn about names - pagan and Christian, Eastern and Western, about the names of literary characters and heroes of past eras in this book. The author, using sometimes funny, sometimes paradoxical and implausible-sounding, but always scientifically accurate examples, talks about the origin of proper names, patronymics and surnames in our country and abroad.

Knowledge and understanding
Two centuries ago, the great German wordsmith and thinker Lessing wrote:
“It seems strange to me that we know not only things, but also the names of these things. However, I want more: not just to understand the meaning of words, but also to know why they sound the way they do.”
This is the thought of a sage. But the same question sometimes comes to the mind of even the most complete simpleton.
- I wonder where the word “jacket” came from? - suddenly, amid empty chatter, the puzzled Mr. Arpad, the far from wise hero of the modern English writer A. Coppard, stumbles over an unexpected riddle.
- Haha! - Mr. Platner, his drinking companion, shrugs indifferently. - The jester knows where he comes from! Who can say that?
Some of my readers will probably join Mr. Platner. Indeed, I know a thing - clothes of a certain cut. I know its name: “jacket” (if you call this “thing” in Russian). Therefore, the meaning of the word is completely clear to me. What more could you want?
However, a more lively mind will not stop there. He will agree with Arpad, and therefore with Lessing. Let both the thing and the name of the thing be known; I still want to know where it came from? For what reason was this thing called a jacket, and not a “murtka”, not a “kortka”, “vyrtka” or something else? Is it possible to find out before this?

"In fact yes! - the linguist will tell you. - The origin of individual words, the study of the question of where one or another of them appeared in our language, is dealt with by a special department of linguistics - etymology.
Finding out all this means “revealing the etymology of the word.” And an experienced etymologist will answer this question without much difficulty. Perhaps, however, his answer will seem somewhat unexpected to you.
“Jacket,” he will tell you, “first of all, the word is non-Russian in origin. We didn’t have it in pre-Petrine times, and it couldn’t have been: after all, our ancestors didn’t know or wear any jackets. They then wore long-skirted clothes - caftans, azyams, and okhabnyas. Then, little by little, the “chubby German” (that is, foreign) dress began to take root. It was first sewn by foreign tailors, mainly the French; they called it by their own name. In French, a “jacket in general” is called “veste”, and a “short jacket” is called “veste courte”; the word “kurt” just means “short”. It was from this French adjective “kurt”, hearing it from French tailors, that our great-great-grandfathers created the Russian noun “jacket” many years ago.
Does this seem implausible to you? In vain. Take another familiar word for another piece of clothing, short pants, “panties.” Where did their designation come from? From the verb “cowardly”, that is, “to be afraid”? From the noun "panty", meaning "rabbit"? From another verb - “to be a coward”, that is, “to move at a run, at a small trot”?
Imagine, neither from one, nor from the other, nor from the third, but again from a French adjective. In French, “jupe troussé” is a tailored skirt, “culotte troussé” is rolled up, and generally “short pants.” Those same foreign tailors, undoubtedly, brought us the word “trusset” along with the jacket, and we, so to speak, carved out of it “pants” to our liking...

Many of our words (especially those not too ancient in origin) easily lend themselves to such disclosure - etymologization. Some are much more difficult to etymologize. There are also those regarding which scientists are so far powerless: their origins go back very far into the depths of time.

It goes without saying that in any language words have their own etymology. Mr. Arpad, in the story of the Englishman Coppard, was interested, of course, not in the Russian word “jacket”, but in his English word “jacket”, which means the same thing. I will not undertake a detailed answer to his question now, but English etymologists could certainly do so. Perhaps they will say that the word "jackit" owes its origin to some skilled tailor or an old fashionista named Jack; it may be assumed that it was born from the term “jake”, which once meant first a leather wineskin, a wineskin, and then a cut for military outerwear. Perhaps it came from the French language, where there is a similar word “jacket” (originally “peasant” - “Zhakov”, that is, “Yashkin” - semi-caftan, common folk attire). Perhaps the decision will turn out to be completely different: that’s their business.
We will now turn our attention to something else. Apparently, a linguist in each word, in addition to its meaning, may also be interested in its origin, its connection with other words, no matter in what language they are present. But all this is good for those words that have meaning. But what about those who have no meaning, who mean nothing?
Excuse me, are there really words in the world without meaning, without meaning?
But look for yourself.

From word to name

Let’s say you asked your friend: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” The friend answers somewhat disrespectfully, but intelligibly: “Yes, he’s one big guy...” Or: “Ah! What a nurse!”
I must say, you will instantly understand: in the first case we are talking about a lanky person, in the second - about a certain crybaby. Try to look in any dictionary and read: “Nurse is a whiny, spineless person...” The word “nurse” can even be simply replaced with the word “crybaby” - the meaning will hardly change. It’s the same with the “big one”. say “club” or “Kolomenskaya verst” - the meaning will remain the same.
Now imagine a different picture. You repeated your question: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” - and heard the answer: “This is Vovka!” Did you understand your interlocutor? Still, great! But, the question arises, what exactly did you understand? What does the word "Vovka" mean? What does it mean? Think about it, and it will begin to seem to you that, perhaps, nothing... Perhaps this is not even a word at all.
Excuse me, why not a word?! This is not only a word, this noun is no worse than others. It is in the singular. It is convenient to decline it: “Vovka, Vovka, Vovka, Vovka...” You can only say: “Vovka is sitting”; “Vovka is sitting” would be wrong. You can write: “dear Vovka,” but “dear Vovka” is nonsense. This means that other words are consistent with “Vovka” according to all the rules: this is an indisputable word. And yet it has absolutely no meaning!
So that such a statement does not seem rash to you, let’s consider the issue in more depth. When a word has a meaning, we can always express that meaning more or less accurately with one or more other words. Upon reflection, each of them can also be translated into a foreign language. It is clear.
For example, the word “cart”. It is not difficult to explain it at least this way: it is a “wooden cart for transporting heavy loads.” Instead, you can choose a few close words that can partly replace it: “drogi”, “pitching”, “wagon”, “cart”... In French “cart” will be “ball” (char), in German “wagen” (Wagen), in Spanish “karro” (saggo), Turkish “talika” (talika) or “araba” (araba) ... Each language has its own word for this concept.
Try to do the same with our “Vovka”. Try to explain to me what “Vovka” is, or convey this concept in words of other languages.
Of course, Vovka is a boy. But Petya, Oleg, Kimka, and even Bobochka are also boys. You cannot say: “I have two brothers; one is Vovka, and the other is a boy.” “Boy” and “Vovka” are neither synonyms nor antonyms.
And another thing: how do you say Vovka in Chinese? What do you think Jim or Topsy will sound like in Russian? This cannot be translated: (It may seem that I am wrong here. The Western name Theodore seems to correspond to Fedor. In English, John is often explained as Ivan. Isn’t this a translation?

Lev USPENSKY

YOU AND YOUR NAME

Knowledge and understanding

Two centuries ago, the great German wordsmith and thinker Lessing wrote:

“It seems strange to me that we know not only things, but also the names of these things. However, I want more: not just to understand the meaning of words, but also know why they sound the way they do.”

This is the thought of a sage. But the same question sometimes comes to the mind of even the most complete simpleton.

I wonder where the word “jacket” came from? - suddenly, amid empty chatter, the puzzled Mr. Arpad, the far from wise hero of the modern English writer A. Coppard, stumbles over an unexpected riddle.

Ha ha! - Mr. Platner, his drinking companion, shrugs indifferently. - The jester knows where he comes from! Who can say that?

Hm! - Arpad is surprised. - Such a simple word! It had to come from somewhere.

Some of my readers will probably join Mr. Platner. In fact, I know thing- clothes of a certain cut. I know her Name: “jacket” (if you call this “thing” in Russian). Therefore, the meaning of the word is completely clear to me. What more could you want?

However, a more lively mind will not stop there. He will agree with Arpad, and therefore with Lessing. Let both the thing and the name of the thing be known; I still want to know where it came from? For what reason was this thing named? jacket, and not “murtka”, not “kortka”, “vyrtka” or something else? Is it possible to find out before this?

"In fact yes! - the linguist will tell you. - The origin of individual words, the study of where one or another of them came from in our language, is dealt with by a special department of linguistics - etymology.

Finding out all this means “revealing the etymology of the word.” And experienced etymologist will answer this question without much difficulty. Perhaps, however, his answer will seem somewhat unexpected to you.

“Jacket,” he will tell you, “first of all, the word is non-Russian in origin. We didn’t have it in pre-Petrine times, and it couldn’t have been: after all, our ancestors didn’t know or wear any jackets. They then wore long-skirted clothes - caftans, azyams, and okhabnyas. Then, little by little, the “chubby German” (that is, foreign) dress began to take root. It was first sewn by foreign tailors, mainly French; they called him by their own name. In French, a “jacket in general” is called “veste”, and a “short jacket” is called “veste courte”; the word “kurt” just means “short”. It was from this French adjective “kurt”, hearing it from French tailors, that our great-great-grandfathers created the Russian noun “jacket” many years ago.

Does this seem implausible to you? In vain. Take another familiar word for another piece of clothing, short pants, “panties.” Where did their designation come from? From the verb “cowardly”, that is, “to be afraid”? From the noun "panty", meaning "rabbit"? From another verb - “to be a coward”, that is, “to move at a run, at a small trot”?

Imagine, neither from one, nor from the other, nor from the third, but again from a French adjective. In French, “jupe troussé” is a selected skirt, “culotte troussé” is rolled up, and generally “short pants.” The same foreign tailors, undoubtedly, brought us the word “trusset” along with the jacket, and we, so to speak, cut out “pants” from it to our liking...

Many of our words (especially those not too ancient in origin) easily lend themselves to such a disclosure - etymologization. Some are much more difficult to etymologize. There are also those regarding which scientists are so far powerless: their origins go back very far into the depths of time.

It goes without saying that in any language words have its etymology. Mr. Arpad, in the story of the Englishman Coppard, was interested, of course, not in the Russian word “jacket”, but in his English word “jacket”, which means the same thing. I will not undertake a detailed answer to his question now, but English etymologists could certainly do so. Perhaps they will say that the word "jackit" owes its origin to some skilled tailor or old fashionista named Jack; it may be assumed that it was born from the term “jack”, which once meant first a leather wineskin, a wineskin, and then a cut for military outerwear. Perhaps it came from the French language, where there is a similar word “jacket” (originally “peasant” - “Zhakov”, that is, “Yashkin” - semi-caftan, common folk attire). Perhaps the decision will turn out to be completely different: that’s their business.

We will now turn our attention to something else. Apparently, there is a linguist in every word, except its meaning, he might also be interested origin, its connection with other words, no matter what language they are present in. But all this is good for those words that have there is a meaning. But what about those who no meaning, which don't mean anything?

Excuse me, are there really words in the world without meaning, without meaning?

But look for yourself.

From word to name

Let’s say you asked your friend: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” The friend answers somewhat disrespectfully, but intelligibly: “Yes, he’s one big guy...” Or: “Ah! Some kind of nurse!”

I must say, you will instantly understand: in the first case we are talking about a lanky person, in the second - about a certain crybaby. Try looking in any dictionary and you will read: “ Nurse- a whiny, spineless person...” The word “nurse” can even be simply replaced with the word “crybaby” - the meaning will hardly change. It’s the same with the “big one”. say “club” or “Kolomenskaya verst” - the meaning will remain the same.

Now imagine a different picture. You repeated your question: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” - and heard the answer: “This is Vovka!” Did you understand your interlocutor? Still, great! But, the question arises, what exactly did you understand? What means word"Vovka"? Which meaning it has? Think about it, and it will begin to seem to you that, perhaps, nothing... Perhaps this is not even a word at all.

Excuse me, why not a word?! This is not only a word, this noun is no worse than others. It is in the singular. It is convenient to decline it: “Vovka, Vovka, Vovka, Vovka...” You can only say: “Vovka is sitting”; “Vovka is sitting” would be wrong. You can write: “dear Vovka,” but “dear Vovka” is nonsense. This means that other words are consistent with “Vovka” according to all the rules: this is an indisputable word. And still values he absolutely has none!

So that such a statement does not seem rash to you, let’s consider the issue in more depth. When a word has a meaning, we can always express that meaning more or less accurately with one or more other words. Upon reflection, each of them can also be translated into a foreign language. It is clear.

For example, the word “cart”. It is not difficult to explain it at least this way: it is a “wooden cart for transporting heavy loads.” Instead, you can choose a few close words that can partially replace it: “drogi”, “pitching”, “wagon”, “cart”... In French “cart” will be “ball” (char), in German “vagen” ( Wagen), in Spanish “carro” (saggo), in Turkish “talika” (talika) or “araba” (araba) ... Every language has for this concepts your own word.

Try to do the same with our “Vovka”. Try it explain tell me what “Vovka” is, or pass it on concept words of other languages.

Of course, Vovka is a boy. But Petya, Oleg, Kimka, and even Bobochka are also boys. You cannot say: “I have two brothers; one is Vovka, and the other is a boy.” “Boy” and “Vovka” are neither synonyms nor antonyms.

Two centuries ago, the great German wordsmith and thinker Lessing wrote:

“It seems strange to me that we know not only things, but also the names of these things. However, I want more: not just to understand the meaning of words, but also know why they sound the way they do.”

This is the thought of a sage. But the same question sometimes comes to the mind of even the most complete simpleton.

I wonder where the word “jacket” came from? - suddenly, amid empty chatter, the puzzled Mr. Arpad, the far from wise hero of the modern English writer A. Coppard, stumbles over an unexpected riddle.

Ha ha! - Mr. Platner, his drinking companion, shrugs indifferently. - The jester knows where he comes from! Who can say that?

Hm! - Arpad is surprised. - Such a simple word! It had to come from somewhere.

Some of my readers will probably join Mr. Platner. In fact, I know thing- clothes of a certain cut. I know her Name: “jacket” (if you call this “thing” in Russian). Therefore, the meaning of the word is completely clear to me. What more could you want?

However, a more lively mind will not stop there. He will agree with Arpad, and therefore with Lessing. Let both the thing and the name of the thing be known; I still want to know where it came from? For what reason was this thing named? jacket, and not “murtka”, not “kortka”, “vyrtka” or something else? Is it possible to find out before this?

"In fact yes! - the linguist will tell you. - The origin of individual words, the study of where one or another of them came from in our language, is dealt with by a special department of linguistics - etymology.

Finding out all this means “revealing the etymology of the word.” And experienced etymologist will answer this question without much difficulty. Perhaps, however, his answer will seem somewhat unexpected to you.

“Jacket,” he will tell you, “first of all, the word is non-Russian in origin. We didn’t have it in pre-Petrine times, and it couldn’t have been: after all, our ancestors didn’t know or wear any jackets. They then wore long-skirted clothes - caftans, azyams, and okhabnyas. Then, little by little, the “chubby German” (that is, foreign) dress began to take root. It was first sewn by foreign tailors, mainly French; they called him by their own name. In French, a “jacket in general” is called “veste”, and a “short jacket” is called “veste courte”; the word “kurt” just means “short”. It was from this French adjective “kurt”, hearing it from French tailors, that our great-great-grandfathers created the Russian noun “jacket” many years ago.

Does this seem implausible to you? In vain. Take another familiar word for another piece of clothing, short pants, “panties.” Where did their designation come from? From the verb “cowardly”, that is, “to be afraid”? From the noun "panty", meaning "rabbit"? From another verb - “to be a coward”, that is, “to move at a run, at a small trot”?

Imagine, neither from one, nor from the other, nor from the third, but again from a French adjective. In French, “jupe troussé” is a selected skirt, “culotte troussé” is rolled up, and generally “short pants.” The same foreign tailors, undoubtedly, brought us the word “trusset” along with the jacket, and we, so to speak, cut out “pants” from it to our liking...

Many of our words (especially those not too ancient in origin) easily lend themselves to such a disclosure - etymologization. Some are much more difficult to etymologize. There are also those regarding which scientists are so far powerless: their origins go back very far into the depths of time.

It goes without saying that in any language words have its etymology. Mr. Arpad, in the story of the Englishman Coppard, was interested, of course, not in the Russian word “jacket”, but in his English word “jacket”, which means the same thing. I will not undertake a detailed answer to his question now, but English etymologists could certainly do so. Perhaps they will say that the word "jackit" owes its origin to some skilled tailor or old fashionista named Jack; it may be assumed that it was born from the term “jack”, which once meant first a leather wineskin, a wineskin, and then a cut for military outerwear. Perhaps it came from the French language, where there is a similar word “jacket” (originally “peasant” - “Zhakov”, that is, “Yashkin” - semi-caftan, common folk attire). Perhaps the decision will turn out to be completely different: that’s their business.

We will now turn our attention to something else. Apparently, there is a linguist in every word, except its meaning, he might also be interested origin, its connection with other words, no matter what language they are present in. But all this is good for those words that have there is a meaning. But what about those who no meaning, which don't mean anything?

Excuse me, are there really words in the world without meaning, without meaning?

But look for yourself.

Let’s say you asked your friend: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” The friend answers somewhat disrespectfully, but intelligibly: “Yes, he’s one big guy...” Or: “Ah! Some kind of nurse!”

I must say, you will instantly understand: in the first case we are talking about a lanky person, in the second - about a certain crybaby. Try looking in any dictionary and you will read: “ Nurse- a whiny, spineless person...” The word “nurse” can even be simply replaced with the word “crybaby” - the meaning will hardly change. It’s the same with the “big one”. say “club” or “Kolomenskaya verst” - the meaning will remain the same.

Now imagine a different picture. You repeated your question: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” - and heard the answer: “This is Vovka!” Did you understand your interlocutor? Still, great! But, the question arises, what exactly did you understand? What means word"Vovka"? Which meaning it has? Think about it, and it will begin to seem to you that, perhaps, nothing... Perhaps this is not even a word at all.

Excuse me, why not a word?! This is not only a word, this noun is no worse than others. It is in the singular. It is convenient to decline it: “Vovka, Vovka, Vovka, Vovka...” You can only say: “Vovka is sitting”; “Vovka is sitting” would be wrong. You can write: “dear Vovka,” but “dear Vovka” is nonsense. This means that other words are consistent with “Vovka” according to all the rules: this is an indisputable word. And still values he absolutely has none!

So that such a statement does not seem rash to you, let’s consider the issue in more depth. When a word has a meaning, we can always express that meaning more or less accurately with one or more other words. Upon reflection, each of them can also be translated into a foreign language. It is clear.

For example, the word “cart”. It is not difficult to explain it at least this way: it is a “wooden cart for transporting heavy loads.” Instead, you can choose a few close words that can partially replace it: “drogi”, “pitching”, “wagon”, “cart”... In French “cart” will be “ball” (char), in German “vagen” ( Wagen), in Spanish “carro” (saggo), in Turkish “talika” (talika) or “araba” (araba) ... Every language has for this concepts your own word.

Try to do the same with our “Vovka”. Try it explain tell me what “Vovka” is, or pass it on concept words of other languages.

Of course, Vovka is a boy. But Petya, Oleg, Kimka, and even Bobochka are also boys. You cannot say: “I have two brothers; one is Vovka, and the other is a boy.” “Boy” and “Vovka” are neither synonyms nor antonyms.

) - Olympic. Wed. the name of sports competitions held in ancient times in Greek. city ​​of Olympia: Olympics.

Olga (scand.) - Women's, f. from Oleg. From Varangian Helga, Helgla.

Onname (gr.) - useful. See Anisim.

Onuphrius (Egyptian) - sacred bull. V. A. Zhukovsky in “The War of Mice and Frogs” uses this name in a comic sense: “the old rat is Onufriy...”

Orestes (gr.) - highlander, savage.

Pavel (b.) - baby. From "paulus" (small, small).

Pavel. - Women's, f. from Pavel.

Pavlina and Paulina.-Female. f. from Pavel (Paul's daughter).

Pavsikakiy (gr.) - fighter against evil. See page 20.

Pamphilus (gr.) - dear to everyone, a common favorite. See page 237.

Pankratiy (gr.) - omnipotent, omnipotent. In Russian People - Pankrat. Wed. words such as “aristocracy” (the power of the “best”), “democracy” (the power of the people).

Panteleimon (gr.) - all-merciful. Particles “pan-”, “panto-” in Greek. words give them the meaning of universality, completeness of coverage: “pan-Slavic” - all-Slavic, “pantograph” - drawing everything.

Paramon (gr.) - solid, reliable.

Paraskeva (gr.) - the eve of the holiday. Russian f. of this name - Paraskovya, Praskovya. Since before the introduction of “Sunday,” Christians, like Jews, celebrated “Saturday,” and its eve was Friday, the word “paraskve,” which had a general meaning: “waiting, preparing,” began to mean “fifth day of the week” in Greek. In Russian life in the old days, Saint Paraskeva was called that; “Paraskeva-Friday”, from where many churches “in the name of Holy Friday” came from, the spiritual surname Pyatnitsky, etc. The word “Friday” almost turned into an independent female name that could exist next to Praskovya, like the names Warrior and Faster . It is interesting to remember the only male Friday, Robinson Crusoe's servant. Here the name is a translation of the English “Friday,” as D. Defoe called his Carib hero. The word “Friday,” like all English words, is devoid of signs of grammatical gender and therefore does not produce such a strange impression in the English context as it does in ours: “man, and suddenly - Friday!”

Parthenium (gr.) - maiden, virgin. Wed. The name of the famous temple of the Virgin Athena in Athens is the Parthenon. Russian adv. f. - Parfen.

Patrick (b.) - the son of a noble father. Wed. the word "patrician" (aristocrat). For the sounds “k” and “ts” in ancient languages, see the name Glyceria. In Russian adv. speeches - Patrikey: Lisa Patrikeevna.

Pachomius (gr.) - broad-shouldered. Russian f. - Groin - among writers of the early 19th century, it was used as typical for elderly peasants and bearded men.

Pelageya (gr.) - sea (parallel to lat, Marina). Wed. Geographical term "archipelago". In Russian - Pelageya; diminutives: Broadsword, Fields, Pasha.

Peter (gr) - stone. See Cephas. Pronunciation with “ё” is only in Russian; everywhere - Peter. Wed. “petrography” (the science of stones); “petroglyphs” (ancient drawings on rocks).

Pinna - See Inna and Rimma. In old reference books - “pearl”. Poss. Greek “pinna” is a type of mollusk with a mother-of-pearl shell, pearl barley.

Plato (gr.) - broad-shouldered. Wed. Pachomius.

Polycarp (gr.) - multiple fruits. See Carp.

Polyxenia (gr.) - hospitable, receiving many guests. Wed. Ksenia, as well as “poly-vitamins” (a mixture of many vitamins), “Polynesia” (many islands).

Porphyry (gr.) -purple-red. Wed. “Porphyry” (purple royal robe). From A.S. Pushkin: “The Porphyry Widow.” Red porphyry stone.

Praskovya.-Russian. f. from Paraskev. Mother of Tatyana Larina. (“Eugene Onegin”) it is no coincidence that in her youth she “called Polina Praskovya”: at that time this name sounded like a common one. However, “Polina” is Pavlina, not Paraskeva: Larina was not an expert in onomatology.

Procopius, Prokofy (gr.) - ready for battle. In Russian language - Prokop. See "Lieutenant Prokop" in the novel Hector Servadac by Jules Verne.

Lev USPENSKY

YOU AND YOUR NAME

Knowledge and understanding

Two centuries ago, the great German wordsmith and thinker Lessing wrote:

“It seems strange to me that we know not only things, but also the names of these things. However, I want more: not just to understand the meaning of words, but also know why they sound the way they do.”

This is the thought of a sage. But the same question sometimes comes to the mind of even the most complete simpleton.

I wonder where the word “jacket” came from? - suddenly, amid empty chatter, the puzzled Mr. Arpad, the far from wise hero of the modern English writer A. Coppard, stumbles over an unexpected riddle.

Ha ha! - Mr. Platner, his drinking companion, shrugs indifferently. - The jester knows where he comes from! Who can say that?

Hm! - Arpad is surprised. - Such a simple word! It had to come from somewhere.

Some of my readers will probably join Mr. Platner. In fact, I know thing- clothes of a certain cut. I know her Name: “jacket” (if you call this “thing” in Russian). Therefore, the meaning of the word is completely clear to me. What more could you want?

However, a more lively mind will not stop there. He will agree with Arpad, and therefore with Lessing. Let both the thing and the name of the thing be known; I still want to know where it came from? For what reason was this thing named? jacket, and not “murtka”, not “kortka”, “vyrtka” or something else? Is it possible to find out before this?

"In fact yes! - the linguist will tell you. - The origin of individual words, the study of where one or another of them came from in our language, is dealt with by a special department of linguistics - etymology.

Finding out all this means “revealing the etymology of the word.” And experienced etymologist will answer this question without much difficulty. Perhaps, however, his answer will seem somewhat unexpected to you.

“Jacket,” he will tell you, “first of all, the word is non-Russian in origin. We didn’t have it in pre-Petrine times, and it couldn’t have been: after all, our ancestors didn’t know or wear any jackets. They then wore long-skirted clothes - caftans, azyams, and okhabnyas. Then, little by little, the “chubby German” (that is, foreign) dress began to take root. It was first sewn by foreign tailors, mainly French; they called him by their own name. In French, a “jacket in general” is called “veste”, and a “short jacket” is called “veste courte”; the word “kurt” just means “short”. It was from this French adjective “kurt”, hearing it from French tailors, that our great-great-grandfathers created the Russian noun “jacket” many years ago.

Does this seem implausible to you? In vain. Take another familiar word for another piece of clothing, short pants, “panties.” Where did their designation come from? From the verb “cowardly”, that is, “to be afraid”? From the noun "panty", meaning "rabbit"? From another verb - “to be a coward”, that is, “to move at a run, at a small trot”?

Imagine, neither from one, nor from the other, nor from the third, but again from a French adjective. In French, “jupe troussé” is a selected skirt, “culotte troussé” is rolled up, and generally “short pants.” The same foreign tailors, undoubtedly, brought us the word “trusset” along with the jacket, and we, so to speak, cut out “pants” from it to our liking...

Many of our words (especially those not too ancient in origin) easily lend themselves to such a disclosure - etymologization. Some are much more difficult to etymologize. There are also those regarding which scientists are so far powerless: their origins go back very far into the depths of time.

It goes without saying that in any language words have its etymology. Mr. Arpad, in the story of the Englishman Coppard, was interested, of course, not in the Russian word “jacket”, but in his English word “jacket”, which means the same thing. I will not undertake a detailed answer to his question now, but English etymologists could certainly do so. Perhaps they will say that the word "jackit" owes its origin to some skilled tailor or old fashionista named Jack; it may be assumed that it was born from the term “jack”, which once meant first a leather wineskin, a wineskin, and then a cut for military outerwear. Perhaps it came from the French language, where there is a similar word “jacket” (originally “peasant” - “Zhakov”, that is, “Yashkin” - semi-caftan, common folk attire). Perhaps the decision will turn out to be completely different: that’s their business.

We will now turn our attention to something else. Apparently, there is a linguist in every word, except its meaning, he might also be interested origin, its connection with other words, no matter what language they are present in. But all this is good for those words that have there is a meaning. But what about those who no meaning, which don't mean anything?

Excuse me, are there really words in the world without meaning, without meaning?

But look for yourself.

From word to name

Let’s say you asked your friend: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” The friend answers somewhat disrespectfully, but intelligibly: “Yes, he’s one big guy...” Or: “Ah! Some kind of nurse!”

I must say, you will instantly understand: in the first case we are talking about a lanky person, in the second - about a certain crybaby. Try looking in any dictionary and you will read: “ Nurse- a whiny, spineless person...” The word “nurse” can even be simply replaced with the word “crybaby” - the meaning will hardly change. It’s the same with the “big one”. say “club” or “Kolomenskaya verst” - the meaning will remain the same.

Now imagine a different picture. You repeated your question: “Who’s making noise in the yard?” - and heard the answer: “This is Vovka!” Did you understand your interlocutor? Still, great! But, the question arises, what exactly did you understand? What means word"Vovka"? Which meaning it has? Think about it, and it will begin to seem to you that, perhaps, nothing... Perhaps this is not even a word at all.

Excuse me, why not a word?! This is not only a word, this noun is no worse than others. It is in the singular. It is convenient to decline it: “Vovka, Vovka, Vovka, Vovka...” You can only say: “Vovka is sitting”; “Vovka is sitting” would be wrong. You can write: “dear Vovka,” but “dear Vovka” is nonsense. This means that other words are consistent with “Vovka” according to all the rules: this is an indisputable word. And still values he absolutely has none!