LEND ME YOUR EAR: MANY WORDS WITH MANY MEANINGS

"The Greeks had a word for it, the Romans had a word for it, the Anglo-Saxons had a word for it. That's why we sometimes have three words for it." Jesse Grumette, The Chapel Hill Herald

The truth is, we often have a dozen words for it. This is because we appropriate words from so many sources, explains Bill Bryson, author of THE MOTHER TONGUE: English & How It Got That Way.

People used to call this stealing, Bryson continues. But then, other languages lift a tremendous lot from English. The whole world uses O.K., but no one knows where it came from. Spellings differ, and can be O.K., OK, or okay. This is okay by us. (We know it's with.)

Our everyday words are chiefly from Anglo-Saxon and German, but our complex terms come from the French, and specialized words derive from the Greek or Latin. Still, though English has more words than any other language in the world, inadequacies exist. Bryson laments that we have no word from coolness corresponding to warmth, though we've said "coolth" many a time. We have inept, but no one is "ept"; we have disheveled, but we can't tell our immaculately-groomed friend how "sheveled" she is. No doubt our friend would thank God we don't have permission, were she a party to our thoughts.

Some years ago, a lexicographer conducted a survey and learned that only 43 words account for at least half the words we use, yet we all know many more words than we think. Not until we encounter and relate them to context do we realize the extent of our own vocabularies. We also have this irksome habit of coining words to suit our needs, and we inspire other like-minded persons to follow suit. This is the way our language grew, of course, so we need not apologize for it. Few coinages achieve permanent status.

Samuel Johnson's dictionary of 1775 contained 43,000 entries. The Oxford English Dictionary gives us 615,000, and technical and medical terms are not included. Bryson believes these additions alone would increase the total by millions, and he estimates that 200,000 are in common use today. Actually, by the time this reaches print, we will have been exposed to any number of creations that may or may not be dictionary-worthy. "Koaladom" has just appeared in print, the suffix dom being convenient as well as currently fashionable. Two days ago I heard a TV chef come up with "cookable" and "roastable." And "ecliptomania" and "ecliptophiles" surfaced some days before the recent eclipse.

Because we have drawn from so many languages, English has more synonyms than any other language in the world. Yet British and American idiom differ so widely that even with our numerous trade-offs, a Londoner traveling to the United States may be at a total loss at times to understand or be understood. A British "flyover" becomes a vehicle overpass; a "berk" changes to an idiot or a boor; sewing thread is "cotton" in England; and if the traveler becomes "knackered", he is only worn out in the States, avers Bryson. Wanna bet he won't be bushed or beat more often?

To further confound other foreigners, both British and American English have words with opposite meanings and contradictory terms. Remember contranyms? Examples have made these columns before. Moot and cleave were among the words listed as having opposite meanings. Loosen and unloosen exemplified a pair of opposites meaning the same.

English has also experienced changes through mistakes in hearing and spelling. Buttonhole was once "buttonhold"; asparagus began 200 years ago as "sparrow grass." But the history of words is of little moment to aliens. One of their greatest problems in learning English is that we have so many words with so many meanings. According to Bryson and the OED, "set" has 58 uses as a noun, 126 as a verb, and requires 60,000 words to define.

Finally, misuses keep changing original meanings. Some time back, Bill Keane's Dolly, our favorite font of misinformation, asked someone to "pass the salad lotion." It occurred to me that lotion, though for external use only, would be better understood by newcomers than "dressing." "Dress" has 13 meanings for verbs, according to the American Heritage, four for nouns, and I stopped counting the variants and uses as modifiers. (I was watching the eclipse live from Hawaii, enough to cause anyone to lose count.)

"Dressing" is scarcely descriptive of what most TV and dance-hall entertainers now wear to attract well, audiences. Audiences see more skin than clothing, but what else is new. Lotion is thought to improve the skin. In my unasked-for view, it would improve salad more.

Aileen Lorberg's Lend Me Your Ear column will be featured every other week from now on.