Idiom of the Week—“Eating Humble Pie”

To “eat humble pie” means to act submissively and apologetically, especially in admitting an error.  For instance, “When the Packers beat the Bears in the NFC Championship game, many Chicago fans were forced to eat humble pie.”  Since the mid 19th century, anyone who had occasion to 'eat his words' by humiliatingly recanting something would be said to 'eat crow' (we’ll save that one for another time), or to eat humble pie.

In the 14th century, the numbles (or noumbles, nomblys, noubles) was the name given to the heart, liver, entrails etc. of animals, especially of deer.  By the 15th century this had migrated to umbles, although the words co-existed for some time. There are many references to both words in Old English and Middle English texts from 1330 onward. Umbles were used as an ingredient in pies, although the first record of 'umble pie' in print is as late as the 17th century. Samuel Pepys makes many references to such pies in his diary. For example, on 5th July 1662: "I am having some venison given me a day or two ago, and so I had a shoulder roasted, another baked, and the umbles baked in a pie, and all very well done." and on 8th July 1663: "Mrs Turner came in and did bring us an Umble-pie hot out of her oven, extraordinarily good."

It is possible that it was the pies that caused the move from numbles to umbles. 'A numble pie' could easily have become an umble pie', in the same way that 'a napron' became 'an apron' and 'an ewt' became 'a newt'.  The adjective humble, meaning 'of lowly rank' or 'having a low estimate of oneself' derived separately from umbles, which derives from Latin and Old French words for loins.  The similarity of the sound of the words, and the fact that umble pie was often eaten by those of humble situation could easily have been the reason for 'eat humble pie' to have come to have its current meaning.

Idiom of the Week—“curry favor”

To “curry favor” with someone means to do something that will ingratiate you to them.  For instance, “Joe pretended to be interested in the project in an attempt to curry favor with his new boss.”  This phrase has an interesting origin.  The first part, “to curry”, is an equestrian (horse-related) term, which means “to clean the coat of”.  This process was completed with a currycomb, a comb made of rows of metallic teeth or serrated ridges and used especially to curry horses. 

OK, but how did it come to be associated with “favor”, and why would anyone “clean the coat of” favor?  Turns out that this one traces its roots all the way back to AD 1310 and a long French poem written by Gervais du Bus called Roman de Fauvel ("Story of Favel").  The protagonist in the story is an allegorical horse that is the incarnation of the sins represented by the letters of his name: flatterie, avarice, vilainie, variété (fickleness), envie, and lâcheté (cowardice).

From that poem comes the Middle French expression estriller Fauvel, which was translated into Middle English as currayen Favel, meaning "to curry Favel."  Because Favel was a chestnut-colored horse (in Middle French fauvel means "fallow colored"), the expression literally means "to rub or smooth down the chestnut horse."  But Favel was not just a horse. He was a humanlike symbol of dishonesty in just about all of its forms. Therefore, currayen Favel figuratively means "to stroke or fawn on the evil chestnut horse to get some benefit in return.”

By the 15th century, the expression had become to curry favel. By the 16th century, folk etymology had replaced the still-unfamiliar word favel with the familiar and coincidentally relevant favor. Today, then, to seek to gain favor by flattery or fawning over someone is to curry favor.

Idiom of the Week—“Take it with a grain of salt”.

V.         Idiom of the Week—“Take it with a grain of salt”.

To take a statement with 'a grain of salt' or 'a pinch of salt' means to accept it but to maintain a degree of skepticism about its truth.

The idea comes from the fact that food is more easily swallowed if taken with a small amount of salt. The origin of the phrase dates all the way back to Roman times in 77 A.D., when Pliny the Elder translated an ancient antidote for poison in his book Naturalis Historia, 77 A.D.:

After the defeat of that mighty monarch, Mithridates, Gnaeus Pompeius found in his private cabinet a recipe for an antidote in his own handwriting; it was to the following effect: Take two dried walnuts, two figs, and twenty leaves of rue; pound them all together, with the addition of a grain of salt; if a person takes this mixture fasting, he will be proof against all poisons for that day.

The suggestion is that injurious effects can be moderated by the taking of a grain of salt.   The figurative meaning, i.e. that truth may require moderation by the notional application of 'a grain of salt', didn't enter the language until much later, no doubt influenced by classical scholars' study of Ancient Greek texts like the works of Pliny. The phrase has been in use in English since the 17th century.

The 'pinch of salt' variant is more recent. The earliest printed citation that for it is F. R. Cowell's Cicero & the Roman Republic, 1948:

"A more critical spirit slowly developed, so that Cicero and his friends took more than the proverbial pinch of salt before swallowing everything written by these earlier authors."

So there you have it.  If anyone tries to tell you anything different, take it with a grain (or pinch) of salt.

Idiom of the Week—“At loggerheads”

I.        Idiom of the Week—“At loggerheads”

To be “at loggerheads” with someone means to be locked in a seemingly irreconcilable dispute with them.   The phrase 'at loggerheads' is of British origin. The singular noun 'loggerhead' has been used in several contexts - as a species of turtle, a bird and as a place name. However, the original usage of “loggerhead” was by William Shakespeare, who used it to refer to a stupid person in his play Love's Labours Lost, in 1588:

        "Ah you logger-head, you were borne to do me shame."

A 'logger-head' was literally a 'block-head'. A logger was a thick block of timber which was fastened to a horse's leg to prevent it from running away. In the 17th century, a loggerhead was also recorded as 'an iron instrument with a long handle used for melting pitch and for heating liquids'.

It is likely that the use of these tools as weapons was what was being referred to when rivals were first said to be 'at loggerheads'.  The first known use of the phrase “at loggerheads: in print is in Francis Kirkman's, The English Rogue, 1680:

        "They frequently quarrell'd about their Sicilian wenches, and indeed... they seem... to be worth the going to Logger-heads for."

The phrase continued to be used to denote physical confrontation, as in the following citation from 1681: 

        “So we went to loggerheads together, I think that was the word, or Fisty-cuffs.“

Bonus Idiom:  ‘Fisticuffs' is another two-word term from around the same date that was later amalgamated into a single word. A “cuff” was a blow with the open hand. A “fisty cuff” was a cuff using the fist, i.e. a punch. Therefore, when someone is in a bare-knuckled fight, we say they are engaging in “fisticuffs.”

But I digress.  Loggerheads is also the name of three small towns in the United Kingdom - in Staffordshire, in Lancashire and in Mold, North Wales.  Each town's residents claim that 'at loggerheads' originated in their home-town. Alas, despite the early citations referring to 'going to' loggerheads, this isn't the case. The towns were named after the term, not the other way around. It’s not clear exactly when the meaning of “at loggerheads” evolved from being in physical confrontation to having irreconcilable differences, but that is the accepted usage today.

Idiom of the Week—“Round Robin”

I.        Idiom of the Week—“Round Robin”

        If you’ve ever played in a round robin tournament, then you know that it is a tournament in which each participant plays against all the other participant, and the person (or team) with the best record at the end of all of the contests is declared the winner of the tournament.  Fine, but why is this called a “round robin” tournament? 

        The phrase actually has nothing whatever to do with a bird, robin or any other kind. "Robin" in this phrase is a corruption of the French "ruban," meaning "ribbon" It seems that in 17th and 18th century France, there was a good deal for the average peasant to complain about, but complaining to the King in particular was not a terribly good idea. The monarch's usual reaction to a petition from his subjects was to seize the first two or three signers and have them beheaded, which was a pretty effective way to reduce the number of petitions received in the future. Not wishing to lose their heads, but bent nonetheless on petitioning for justice, clever peasants came up with the idea of signing their names on the petition in a circle, like a round ribbon. That way, no one's name came "first," and, assuming that there were hundreds of signatures on the petition, it was (hopefully) impractical for the King to punish all the signers. A similar method was adopted by disgruntled sailors in the 18th century British Royal Navy, another institution not known for welcoming criticism. Sailors often signed their names to a petition like the spokes of a wheel, so that no one of them could be considered the leader of a mutiny and hanged.

        Today we use "round robin" to describe any event, most often a sporting event of some kind, where everyone takes a turn.  There you have it.  Another piece of mildly interesting but ultimately useless information.

Idiom of the Week—“Nothing to sneeze at”

I.        Idiom of the Week—“Nothing to sneeze at”

This week’s idiom is nothing to sneeze at.  No, really.  This week’s idiom is “nothing to sneeze at”, as in “The tremendous results posted by the Network Team this year are nothing to sneeze at.”   The accepted meaning of the phrase is that the object in question is significant, and not to be taken for granted.  But why wouldn’t you want to sneeze at (on?) them, and why would that mean you were taking them for granted if you did?

The original expression was actually "not to be sneezed at," but the phrase has undergone various revisions over the years.  Apparently, people in older times imagined that a sneeze cleared the mind. It certainly gave them a feeling of exhilaration.  Suddenly, 17th century Europe caught a craze for sneezing. It was considered the right thing to do in good society. Indeed, the more you sneezed, the more you proved yourself a member of the privileged class. To build up this new status symbol, all kinds of devices were used. It was soon realized that snuff caused sneezing. Therefore anybody who was anybody carried with him a little box, containing a mixture of sneeze-producing herbs or tobacco.  By drawing an ample pinch of it into the nostrils, a hearty sneeze resulted in no time.  Of course only the rich and idle had time to sneeze or could afford snuff. Hence the self-induced sneeze became synonymous with aristocratic living.

If you were able to sneeze ‘on call,' you showed audibly your status in society. But one matter had still to be decided. Just to sneeze haphazardly was not good enough. There had to be a special occasion. Soon sneezing virtually became part of men's conversation. You indulged in it whenever you wanted to show your disapproval of anything said or, even more so, your lack of interest in the matter discussed. A sneeze was an unmistakable way of saying politely ‘you bore me.'  Consequently and logically, anything ‘not to be sneezed at' was something really worthwhile.

Idiom of the Week—“Paint the Town Red”

I.        Idiom of the Week—“Paint the Town Red”

To “paint the town red” means to engage in a riotous spree.  It generally refers to the kind of unruly behavior that results in much blood being spilt.  The most common theory as to the origin of this phrase dates back to England in 1837, when the Marquis of Waterford and a group of friends ran riot in the Leicestershire town of Melton Mowbray.  They literally stumbled across some tins of red paint, and ended up painting the town's toll-bar and several buildings red.   That event is well documented, and is certainly in the style of the Marquis, who was a notorious hooligan. To his friends he was Henry de la Poer Beresford; to the public he was known as 'the Mad Marquis'.  His misdeeds include fighting, stealing, being 'invited to leave' Oxford University, breaking windows, upsetting (literally) apple-carts, fighting duels and, last but not least, painting the heels of a parson's horse with aniseed and hunting him with bloodhounds. He was notorious enough to have been suspected by some of being 'Spring Heeled Jack', the strange, semi-mythical figure of English folklore.

However, the first use of the phrase in print was not until 1883 in The New York Times:

"Mr. James Hennessy offered a resolution that the entire body proceed forthwith to Newark and get drunk... Then the Democrats charged upon the street cars, and being wafted into Newark proceeded, to use their own metaphor, to 'paint the town red'."