“It’s deliciously apt that the tarnishing of his reputation (HAL, the computer in 2001) is what pushes the computer over the edge, for both reputation and computer trace back to the Latin phrase putare, “to reckon,” a word that encompasses solving mathematical and moral problems, implied in the phrase ‘day of reckoning.’”

“Ah,” you probably are saying to yourself, “how apt, how deliciously apt.”

If in fact you find such aptness delicious, Words of a Feather will prove to be a conceptual banquet of conversation-worthy tidbits. “Which reminds me,” you might say in answer to the question “why are you late for dinner,” “did you know that senate and senile are etymologically related, and that it wasn’t until the mid-nineteenth century that senile acquired the meaning of ‘weak or infirm from age.’”

Written by Murray Suid, author of over 25 books, including Demonic Mnemonics - Eight Hundred Spelling Tricks for Eight Hundred Tricky Words, and an old friend of mine when I was working in Philadelphia some 35 years ago, the book reflects a deep love of language and learning, and, most significantly, a thorough appreciation for the incongruous.

Page after page of entertaining reflections on connections between words that simply shouldn’t belong together - coronation and coroner, mercenary and mercy, stupendous and stupid - Words of a Feather is playful enough to make you want to flock to your local bookseller.

Should you need more incentive, wing your way to the Words of a Feather website.

Related and much more insightful is Nick’s post on advancing your career through drinking: http://www.punny.org/index.php?s=wine

Jonathan,
I felt I was right there with you in Brussels–”Bruxelles” as I usually call it (after a quick visit to Wikipedia). Anyway, your vignette not only taught me that doublets are universal, but you also just saved me several thousand dollars because I don’t have to fly to Europe to learn about words. And it wouldn’t haven’t happened without Nick’s website. More proof that Punny Money is a cash cow.

Jonathan: Very nifty sleuthing about coins and corners!

I have a certain degree of fluency in French, and so, when I found myself in front of a bakery counter in the Gare du Midi in Brussels a few years back, it was natural for me to converse with the cashier in French. (You’ll notice that the reference to the Gare du Midi is completely superfluous. For the purposes of the story, I could have been anywhere in French-speaking Europe. But, like many writers, I believe in the beneficial effects of enhancing one’s prose through the addition of colorful details–by which I mean we get paid by the word.)

What I was trying to do was apologize for the fact that I had only a large bill with which to pay for my coffee and croissant. “If that’s a problem,” I said in French, “my wife has corners.” You see, though I’ve known since sixth grade that the French for “coins” is “de la monnaie,” what came out of my mouth was the French phrase “des coins,” i.e., corners. My pronunciation was no doubt impeccable, but that hardly mattered, under the circumstances.

A visit this morning to the Online Etymology Dictionary, which a certain Murray Suid turned me on to, reveals that the French and English words “coin” are related:

coin (n.)
1304, from O.Fr. coigne “a wedge, cornerstone,” from L. cuneus “a wedge.” Die for stamping metal was wedge-shaped, and the word came to mean “thing stamped, a piece of money” by c.1386.

Now I don’t feel nearly as stupid. Another life made happier through the healing power of etymology!