Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Word Wednesday: "Majuscule"

A majuscule, the letter B
Today's word, majuscule, is an over-sized capital letter, like the ones used at the beginning of passages in illuminated manuscripts.  The word is French, from the Latin majusculus, meaning "somewhat larger."  It is, effectively, the opposite of miniscule.  Medieval books like the "Book of Kells" and many early hand-written Bibles were written in this illuminated style, and majuscules were often decorated with the forms of mythical creatures, or illustrations that related to the following text.


Ciao!
The Lonely Alchemist

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Word Wednesday: "Gilet"

A modern take on a gilet.
Today's word is gilet, or "vest," from the French gilet, from Spanish gileco or chaleco, from Turkish yelek.  Though today it refers to a waistcoat or vest, it used to refer to any sleeveless jacket or vest that could be waist or knee length.  In women's fashion in the 1800, a gilet was a fitted dress bodice resembling a man's waistcoat.

There is also a municipality in Spain called Gilet, and a Medieval French-Hungarian noble family named Gilet.  We're guessing they are both named after the vest: the town perhaps because it was a center of Spanish gilet-making, and the family perhaps because they had tailors in their ancestry.

Ciao!
The Lonely Alchemist

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Word (and recipe) Wednesday: "Remoulade"

Today you get both a word, and a delicious recipe!  The word of the day is remoulade.  Remoulade is a creamy French sauce popular in many countries.  Here in America, Cajun remoulade sauce is a flavorful, spicy condiment perfect for any kind of seafood.  We here at the Lonely Alchemist love our remoulade on halibut or crabcakes (or shrimp, or po boys, or salmon, or steak, or french fries, or mussels, or scallops, etc... yummm), and encase you are feeling adventurous in the kitchen this holiday season, here's our favorite recipe for remoulade to spice up your December cuisine:

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Word Wednesday: "Physiognomy"

The word for today (and a little history lesson) is physiognomy, which refers to the pseudoscience of studying the structure of a person's face to reveal their temperament and predispositions. This word was probably used 100 times in Jane Eyre. People of that era put a lot of faith in facial features and skull shape to reveal character. It was even used in police work to find criminals (it was closely associated with phrenology, the pseudoscience of measuring the skull and feeling its bumps to reveal a person's character). People with irregular features were often arrested for deeds they didn't commit simply because their face supposedly predisposed them to crime. Of course most of them were probably innocent. They couldn't help that they didn't have perfect faces.

Phrenology is still practiced by many people today who believe that a person's future can be felt in the bumps on their cranium.  But, like many Victorian practices, it is a hobby today and isn't used in psychology or forensic investigation (good news for those of us who may have bumpy heads!).

Ciao!
The Lonely Alchemist

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Poetry Tuesday: "Merciles Beaute" by Geoffrey Chaucer

A Triple Roundel.


I. Captivity

Your yën two wol sle me sodenly,
I may the beaute of hem not sustene,
So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.

And but your word wol helen hastily
My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene,
     Your yën two wol sle me sodenly; 
     may the beaute of hem not sustene.

Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully,
That ye ben of my lyf and deth the quene;
For with my deth the trouthe shal be sene.
     Your yën two wol sle me sodenly,
     I may the beaute of hem not sustene,
     So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.



II. Rejection. 

So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced
Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;
For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

Giltles my deth thus han ye me purchaced;
I sey yow soth, me nedeth not to feyne;
     So hath your beaute fro your herle chaced
     Pilee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne

Allas! that nature hath in yow compassed
So gret beaute, that no man may atteyne
To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne.
     So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced
     Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne;
     For daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.



III. Escape. 

Sin I fro love escaped am so fat,
I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;
Sin I am fre, I counte him not a bene.

He may answere, and seye this or that;
I do no fors, I speke right as I mene.
     Sin I fro love escaped am so fat,
     I never thenk to ben in his prison lene.

Love hath my name y-strike out of his sclat,
And he is strike out of my bokes clene
For ever-mo; [ther] is non other mene.
     Sin I fro love escaped am so fat,
     I never thenk to ben in his prison lene;
     Sin I am fre, I counte him not a bene.
               Explicit.
 
 
Caio!
The Lonely Alchemist