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palaver — profuse and idle talk; chatter (this is the secondary meaning of “palaver” but it’s the one that concerns and is connected with the Spanish cognate)
palabrería — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
A “palaver” can also mean a “conference” or discussion or a long parley between people of different cultures (which is where it first came into our language). In the sense of “conference,” the Spanish cognate would simply be “conferencia” and not “palabrería.”
As to idle talk or chatter, the basis of any talk is each individual word, and that’s where the word “palaver” comes from. We took it from Portuguese’s word for “word” which is palavra. Why that matters is because in Spanish the word for “word” is “palabra” — you can easily see how similar that is to the Portuguese word for “word” from which we created “palaver.”
However, in English, we didn’t use our variation of “palavra” to mean “word” as it does in Portuguese. Instead, we used it to refer to “a parley with natives” because that’s how the Portuguese sailors and traders with whom the English sailors and traders were dealing during the 18th century were using their own word for “word.”
Since Portuguese and Spanish both come from Latin, their two words for “word” naturally were already cognates. Our English word of “word” has come down to us from Old English, so there is no similarity between the words “word” and “palabra;” however, there is a similarity between “palaver” and “palabra/palavra” because WE took that word from Portuguese and made it our own.
The Spanish word of “palabrería” suggests an over usage of words or “palabras.” That’s what idle chitchat and chatter is — using a whole bunch of unnecessary words in an idle fashion.
In one episode (Season 8, episode 1) of M*A*S*H, Colonel Potter says, “All right, Captain, let’s can the palaver.” I tried finding a clip of just that part to share on here but couldn’t. Trust me, though, he says it. Colonel Potter is my second favorite character on that series, after Hawkeye of course. All the characters are great, though.
Since I couldn’t find the clip I wanted, I will leave you with a compilation of Potterisms instead. Maybe there’s one you can use if you ever want to stop some “palavering” that is happening around you. Ha ha. Enjoy the clip.
Potterisms to stop the palavering
Until next time. If you’d consider upgrading to “paid” subscriber, I’d really appreciate it, and then you’d also have access to the full archive of “Cognate Cognizance” as well as to all the podcasts I’ve made of it.
Tammy Marshall
Today we’re going to look at a few cognate duos that are all words for types of sayings that teach a lesson or relate fundamental truths.
The first pairing.
adage — a traditional saying that expresses a common experience or observation
adagio — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning (The word “adagio” exists in English, too, but it refers to the way a musical piece is played slowly or the way a pair of dancers does some technical moves and has nothing to do with a “saying.”)
My favorite adage is “Don’t judge a book by its cover” because I’m a writer, and I know that the quality of the book lies between the covers just as the quality of a person lies inside him or her. An adage will often use metaphor like that to express a truth.
Let’s look at some of the synonyms, or words that can be considered to be synonyms, for “adage.”
proverb — a short popular saying that expresses a commonplace truth; a maxim
proverbio — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
There’s a reason that the book in the Bible that contains the sayings of the sages is called Proverbs.
Proverbs 22: Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.
If you look up adages and proverbs online, you will find that they are basically the same thing. Essentially, a “proverb” is meant to give ADVICE while an “adage” is simply stating an accepted TRUTH.
Another cognate duo that can be used synonymously for “adage” or “proverb,” though, is the following:
maxim — an expression of a general truth or principle; a rule of conduct
máxima — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
My favorite “maxim” is the Golden Rule:
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
In my opinion, if everyone lived by that “maxim,” the world would be a much better place, and most, if not all, or our problems would disappear.
Let’s look at two other synonyms for “saying” that aren’t used as often as the three I’ve mentioned so far.
aphorism — a concise statement containing a general truth or principle; adage
aforisma — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
apothegm — a short, pithy, instructive saying
apotegma — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
The more time you spend trying to differentiate the meanings of these five synonyms for types of sayings, the more confused you’ll probably become, but what I like about them is that they are all cognates because the etymology of each duo comes to us from Latin (and possibly Greek before the words traversed Latin to get to us in their current forms).
“Adages” and “proverbs” and the like are useful expressions or sayings that can provide guidance or motivation to us, so it’s good to know that if you see the word “adagio” in a Spanish religious pamphlet, as I did recently, you will know that what follows is a saying containing some general wisdom.
Whether you prefer to call your words to live by “adages,” “maxims,” “proverbs,” “aphorisms,” “apothegms,” or even “epigrams” (for which the Spanish cognate is “epigrama”), I hope you have a few favorites.
Ben Franklin was famous for his “epigrams.” One such that he used and that has been shortened further in modern times was, “There are no gains, without pains.” Now we tend to say: “No pain, no gain.”
My guiding “maxim” is this:
We make time for what matters.
I make time each week to write “Cognate Cognizance” because helping to enrich others’ vocabularies matters to me as does keeping my working knowledge of Spanish and Linguistics strong. I’m glad you make time to read it. If you don’t want to miss any weeks (or would like to be able to access the podcast version), upgrade to paid now. Thanks.
Until next time.
Tammy Marshall
Just looking at the above photo gives me “gustatory” delight, but until a few nights ago, I hadn’t heard this word. My boyfriend loves to watch cooking shows, and one of his favorites is “Beat Bobby Flay.” I was only halfway watching it, but Bobby spoke a sentence in which he used the word “gustatory.” One of Bobby’s celebrity hosts chuckled and repeated the word, and I experienced one of those mini-lightbulb epiphanies followed immediately by a figurative slap to my head and an interior monosyllabic monologue of “Duh.”
For years, I taught Spanish, and one of the most common verbs is the verb “gustar.” English speakers struggle with this verb for many reasons, one of which is that it doesn’t look anything like its English equivalent of “to like.” Hearing the word “gustatory” made me wish I’d heard it three decades ago.
First let’s look at our cognate duo:
gustation — a noun meaning “the act of tasting”
gustaciόn — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
These words come from Latin’s gustare which means “to taste.” Over the years, though, the verb “gustar” in Spanish moved away from dealing with physical taste and into the realm of liking something, as in it is to your taste or your liking.
In Italian, “gustare” still pertains to tasting something, but in Spanish “gustar” translates into English as “to like” in the sense of “to be pleasing to” someone. Thus, in English when we say “I like the car,” it translates, essentially, to “the car is pleasing to me” in Spanish, and you get the construction of “Me gusta el carro” or “El carro me gusta.”
Due to the way the verb is used and the fact that it doesn’t look anything like our English word of “like” or even “please,” students really struggle with this verb even though it is VERY common in Spanish.
As soon as Bobby Flay used the word “gustatory,” though, I understood what he meant because of teaching the word “gustar” for so many years. I immediately knew he was referring to the taste of something he was preparing. It had “gustatory” appeal.
If you don’t find a particular food appealing to your tastebuds, you might call that food “disgusting.” Notice that root in the middle of the word? Yep, “disgust” is used to show that something does not have flavor or taste to us. “Disgusto” is the Spanish cognate.
“Gustatory” has a synonym of “gustative,” and both those words become “gustativo” in Spanish for the masculine adjective form and “gustativa” for the feminine adjective form. “It’s a gustatory/gustative sensation” becomes “Es una sensaciόn gustativa” in Spanish.
Do you like to learn cognates? ¿Te gusta aprender los cognados? I hope so, and I hope you’ll share this post with others and encourage them to subscribe. Please consider upgrading to paid subscriber, too, to ensure that you’ll receive “Cognate Cognizance” each week.
Until next time.
Tammy Marshall
primaveral — an adjective meaning “relating to early springtime”
primaveral — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
When I taught Spanish, the months of the year were easy for students to remember because all of them, except January/Enero, are cognate duos, but the four words for the seasons were difficult for them to remember because they don’t look anything like our English words. Some students had heard of a dish called pasta primavera, and they would pretend it was something you could only eat in the Spring, so they could remember that “primavera” was the Spanish word for “spring.”
The “primavera” of pasta primavera does refer to springtime, though, so they were right to make the connection. “Primavera” comes from two Latin words that relate to the early springtime — prīmō vēre "in the early spring." The Italians added the word to a dish in which there are vegetables that give the dish a sense of springtime.
English created “primaveral” from the Spanish word of “primavera” for “spring” and made an adjective of the word. Our word of “spring” has come down to us in a direct line from Old English which took it from Old German.
We also have the word “vernal” in English and its direct cognate in Spanish. This word is also an adjective meaning “relating to or occurring in the springtime.” It’s more commonly used in English than “primaveral” is, and it has the added meaning of “youthful” as in comparing someone to the springtime when things are new and young. You’ll see it used to refer to the “vernal equinox,” which will occur this year on March 20th.
Then I will have a “primaveral” party to usher in the springtime because I’m so tired of winter.
Until next time. If you missed out on the full episode last week and would like to upgrade to paid subscriber, please consider doing so, if only for one month, so you can receive these every week and have access to the full archive.
Thanks.
Tammy Marshall
Anyone who enjoys taking a polar plunge knows how “gelid” the waters of a place like the one in the above photo can be.
gelid — an adjective meaning “icy” or extremely cold
gélido — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
This winter has been especially “gelid” in my opinion, but I’m not fond of cold weather at all, so I may be exaggerating a bit (but only a bit). “Gelid” and its Spanish counterpart are not commonly used words, but knowing them will help you learn and remember a couple other useful Spanish words.
Those are “congelar” and “congelador,” which mean “to freeze” and a “freezer.” These words come up in Spanish curriculum in sections dealing with household items. Students easily recognize and remember “refrigerador” for “refrigerator” — there is another common word for that appliance that isn’t a cognate, so “refrigerador” is more commonly taught to English-speaking students — but they have a hard time learning and remembering “congelador” for a “freezer” because those two words look nothing alike.
However, if you look inside the word “congelador,” you’ll see that the middle of it looks a lot like the English word of “gelid,” and if you know “gelid” then it’s a lot easier to remember “congelador.” Things inside a “congelador” will become quite “gelid.”
“Gelid” can also be used to describe an “icy” person, as in that person’s personality. In Spanish, you’d need to be sure to change “gélido” to “gélida” when describing a female or something feminine, and you’d have to add an -s to the ending of those words for plural things. For example: “una persona gélida” — “a gelid person.” (The word “persona” is always feminine in Spanish, no matter who it is referring to.)
If you do something in an “icy” or cold manner, you do it “gelidly.” In Spanish, to make an adverb from an adjective, you take the feminine form of that adjective and then add -mente; thus, “gelidly” in Spanish is “gélidamente.” If something has the quality of being icy or gelid, it has “gelidness.” That is “gelidez” in Spanish.
“Congelar” means “to freeze.” That, as well as “gelid” and these other words, comes down from Latin’s gelare which also means “to freeze.” From “congelar,” you can create the adjective for “frozen,” which is “congelado” for masculine things and “congelada” for feminine things.
I’m hoping that we soon leave behind the “gelid” part of the year. I’m ready for warm weather, but I know a few “gelid” people whose hearts aren’t warmed by even the hottest of days.
Until next time. Last week I shared a number of body parts that are cognates, so if you aren’t yet a paying subscriber and would like to be able to read that post, please consider upgrading to “paid” now. Thanks.
Tammy Marshall
caseous — cheesy or “resembling cheese”
caseoso — the masculine Spanish cognate of the same meaning
caseosa — the feminine Spanish cognate of the same meaning
This is an English word that I wish I’d known when I was still teaching Spanish. Food vocabulary is extensive, yet the commonly used Spanish food words are an important part of any Spanish curriculum, and they are the words that teenagers most like to learn.
One of the very common Spanish food words is “queso.” Many people know the word “queso” even though they don’t know other words in Spanish. “Queso” is “cheese,” and it’s the basis for a popular Mexican food called a “quesadilla” — a combination of cheese and a tortilla. It’s a bit of a stretch for students to see “cheese” and “queso” as cognates, but they are.
Those two words come to us from Latin’s caseus which means “cheese.” Now, if you look at that Latin word and then at the cognates listed above, it’s easy to see where we got “caseous” and where Spanish got “caseoso” and “caseosa.”
The pronunciation of our English word “caseous” is easily comparable to the beginning pronunciation of “queso,” also. That’s why I wish I’d been familiar with the word “caseous” back when I was teaching Spanish — I would have used it then to help the students see the cognate relationship as well as the pronunciation relationship.
Alas, I only recently discovered this word.
It got me thinking about another lesser-known English/Spanish cognate food pair. The English word is “cole.” Most commonly, we use that as the first part of the word “coleslaw.” What is the main ingredient in coleslaw?
It’s cabbage.
Technically, “cole” is “any of several brassicas.” What the heck is a “brassica?” Well, I’m not going to get into all the technicalities of it, but essentially a cabbage is a type of brassica, and a cabbage can be referred to as a “cole.” Thus, when we chop up “cole” and add other ingredients, we get a “coleslaw.”
Knowing this helps you see that there is a direct cognate in Spanish for “cole,” meaning “cabbage.” That word is “col.”
When I was teaching, my students would often make the association between “coleslaw” and “col” to help them remember the word “col” for “cabbage,” but I didn’t investigate the words further. If I had, I would have gained more cognate cognizance back then.
Recently, on some cooking show my boyfriend likes to watch (I’m not a fan, so I don’t recall which one it was, but what transpired on it caught my attention), they were using “bacalao” in some food preparation. I was surprised because I didn’t know that we used that word in English. I only knew it in Spanish as the Spanish word for “codfish.”
According to the show’s host, “bacalao” is used to refer to salted and dried codfish. All right. However, “bacalao” is the only word in Spanish I’ve ever learned for “cod,” so that’s what it is to me. Any seafood aficionado, though, might benefit from already knowing the word “bacalao” in English, so she can transfer that to Spanish, or vice versa as I have done. Various etymological explanations exist, so I won’t get into all of them here.
Another fish food is “tuna.” In creating the word “tuna,” we took the Spanish word for it, which is “atún,” and we simply altered the word. Thus, “tuna” and “atún” are cognates, too.
The next time you eat at a Mexican restaurant, I dare you to order some “caseous” nachos and see if the server knows what you mean. I’m guessing he won’t, but maybe he has more cognate cognizance than I did prior to learning this word.
“Caseous” can also describe something that is entirely NOT appetizing — think of the “cheesy” appearance of dying, damaged flesh. Ugh. I bet you just lost your appetite for those “caseous” nachos, didn’t you? Sorry.
Until next time. If you missed learning about “orison,” please upgrade to paid and gain access to last week’s post as well as to the full archive of “Cognate Cognizance.”
Tammy Marshall
affable — an adjective describing someone who is warm and friendly and pleasantly easy to talk to
afable — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
The more “affable” a television or radio host is, the better his or her show will do because people will want to talk to him, and viewers and listeners will want to tune in to listen. When we have problems, we want a friendly, avuncular guy or a warm, motherly woman to listen to us — we want an “affable” person, not some crude, shock jock.
“Affable” comes to us from Latin’s affārī, meaning "to speak to." Affārī is a form of fārī "to speak, say" and from that word also comes fābula "talk, gossip, account, tale, legend."
Thus, we get the word “fable” in English, which is a type of story meant to teach a moral or lesson. One of the best-known fables concerns a hare and a tortoise and how it’s often better to go slowly yet steadily toward your goals. I’m a big fan of this approach.
A “fable” is a story that’s meant to be “told” or “spoken.” If you look at the word “affable,” the word “fable” is right there. The two words are pronounced differently, so it’s inclusion in the word “affable” is not so clearly noticed when spoken as it is when it’s read.
The Spanish cognate for “fable” looks exactly like its Latin ancestor — “fábula.”
If you’re wondering, yes, “fabulous” comes from the same ancestor as “fable” because its original meaning was as an adjective used to describe something that resembled a “fable” — something that was too incredible to be true.
The Spanish cognate for “fabulous” is “fabuloso” if the thing it’s describing is masculine and “fabulosa” if the thing is feminine.
If you are a paying subscriber, think back to last week’s “Cognate Cognizance.” If you are an “affable” person, you are someone marked by “affability,” the noun. See that -ity ending? You should be able to make the jump from English to its Spanish cognate based upon what I shared last week.
Did you come up with “afabilidad?” If so, good job. “La afabilidad” is the Spanish cognate to indicate the quality of being “affable” or “afable.”
I hope you have an “affable” person in your life to talk to each day.
Until next time. If you’re not a paying subscriber yet, please consider becoming one. Thanks.
Tammy Marshall
These two cats look as though they are about to go at it with each other. Perhaps, if they could speak, they could settle their problems through “disputation” instead.
Let’s begin, though, with the word “dispute.”
dispute — a noun meaning a quarrel or a verbal debate about something
disputa — the Spanish cognate of the same meanings, more commonly used for a quarrel
“Dispute” can be used as a verb in English. Then it means “to engage in an argument or quarrel” or “to call into question or cast doubt upon” something. Its Spanish cognate as a verb is “disputar.” These words come to us from Latin’s disputare, which means “to discuss.” If we are arguing, quarreling, or debating something, then we are discussing it — we’ve simply added some heat to our discussion.
I got to thinking about this word a few nights ago while I was reading “Middlemarch” by George Eliot. I came upon the word “disputation” used a few times, and while I was pretty sure of its meaning, I did look it up because I wasn’t familiar with that noun, having always heard and used “dispute” instead. “Disputation” can be a verbal controversy or debate, as it was used in “Middlemarch,” or it can refer to the oral defense of a thesis, like my daughter will soon be doing to complete her Master’s in Paleontology.
In Spanish, the cognate for “disputation” is the same as it is for the noun “dispute.” It’s just “disputa.”
In the 30 years that I taught Spanish, I don’t recall this word ever coming up in texts or even in the easy readers I had for my students. I believe that’s because the word “disputa” in Spanish sounds too much like a very common swear word in Spanish, and anyone who has ever taught teenagers knows that you don’t need to give them any fodder for their vast vocabulary of profanity.
If you’re unsure or unaware of the Spanish swear word in question, simply look up “puta” and then you’ll understand why it’s best not to teach the word “disputa” in a high school Spanish classroom.
However, as adults who enjoy understanding the wealth of words that we find in our readings, it’s good to know that a “disputation” is a slightly fancier and perhaps more archaic word for “dispute.” That’s why I came across it a few times in “Middlemarch,” but I don’t know that I’ve seen it used in newer literature.
Quite frankly, I don’t know that I’ve heard, read, or even used the word “dispute” in a while, so maybe we should bring it back into the norm of conversation. After all, our government sure does a lot of disputing. I shy away from all the negative news stories, though, so there’s a good chance those stories are chock full of “disputes” that I simply don’t see. It is a perfect word to describe many arguments.
There are other words that are related to “dispute,” too, such as the adjectives of “disputatious” and “disputative” which are used to describe something or someone who is inclined to dispute. There is another noun, too, which is “disputativeness,” and if you do something in a quarrelsome or argumentative manner, that could be described with the adverb of “disputatively.”
I hope you don’t have any “disputes” with anyone today. If you do, and they don’t know any Spanish at all, you could throw a new swear word at them, under your breath that is. If they do know Spanish, and they overhear you, you’ll have a new “dispute” on your hands. Ha ha.
Have a great day. Until next week.
Please share this with anyone you know who enjoys learning about words, and encourage them to become a subscriber.
If you missed learning about the word “infernal” last week and would like to upgrade to a paid subscription to access it and the full backlist of posts, then please do that.
Tammy Marshall
incarnadine — an adjective that means “flesh-colored” or “pale pink” but that also means “blood-red” and “crimson”
encarnado — the masculine Spanish adjective of the same meaning
encarnada — the feminine Spanish adjective of the same meaning
In English, the word “incarnate” can also be used as an adjective meaning the same as the above words, but it more commonly means that something is “invested with a bodily or human form.” The above-mentioned Spanish words are the cognates for “incarnate” also, and they look more like “incarnate” than “incarnadine.”
When “incarnate” is a verb, then its cognate is “encarnar” in Spanish. At the root of all these words, and many others, is the Latin carn or caro for “flesh.” Our English word of “flesh” comes to us from Old English, but we use a lot of words that have that “carn” in them and that refer to “flesh” in some way.
“Incarnation” refers to the physical form of something like a concept or something in nature or a deity, and when capitalized it is used for the human form of Jesus in Christianity. Its Spanish cognate is “encarnación.” Within each of those words, you can see that Latin “carn” for flesh. And then also if you are brought back into bodily form, you go through “reincarnation.”
A “carnivore” is a meat eater or a flesh eater. Naturally, there are easily recognized masculine and feminine cognates of that word in Spanish — “carnívoro” and “carnívora.” These are also the adjective cognates for our English adjective of “carnivorous.” “Carnal” pleasures are those “of the flesh,” and that word has an exact cognate in Spanish of “carnal.”
In English we use the word “meat” which comes to us from Old English as did “flesh.” In Spanish, though, the word for meat is “carne.” It’s a very common word when learning and speaking Spanish. Most students quickly make the connection to “carnivore” to help them remember the word “carne” in Spanish for “meat,” but there are many other words in English that have that Latin “carn” as their root. Those that do will have Spanish cognates, so knowing “carne” in Spanish can help you learn and recognize other words that contain a piece of it like “encarnar.”
Getting back to “incarnadine.” This is a much lesser-known word in English that incorporates (that’s another word that has “body” at its core) “carn.” I am kind of fascinated by this word, though. Here’s the explanation of its etymology from merriam-webster.com:
Carn- is the Latin root for "flesh," and "incarnates" is Latin for flesh-colored. English speakers picked up the "pinkish" sense of "incarnadine" back in the late 1500s. Since then, the adjective has come to refer to the dark red color of freshly cut, fleshy meat as well as to the pinkish color of the outer skin of some humans. The word can be used as a verb, too, meaning "to redden." Shakespeare used it that way in Macbeth: "Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red."
“Incarnadine” is probably my least favorite color, though, partly because it doesn’t look good on me and partly because it does remind me of blood which gives me the creeps, but we’ve just finished the Christmas season — a season marked heavily by the color red — so I thought this would be a good word to begin the new year.
Last week, I shared “respire” with the paid subscribers, so if you’d care to learn more about that word and not miss any “Cognate Cognizance” posts, please become a paid subscriber. It’s really not much money each month, and I would so appreciate it.
Until next time. Happy New Year.
Tammy Marshall
refulgent — an adjective meaning “shiny” or “brilliant”
refulgente — the Spanish cognate of the same meaning
These two words come to us from Latin’s fulgēre which means “to shine.” The cognate duo of “fulgent” in English and “fulgente” in Spanish also come from that Latin verb. “Fulgent” and “fulgente” essentially mean the same as “refulgent” and “refulgente.” If something is “fulgent” then it is dazzlingly bright — in other words, it is “shiny.”
Fulgēre gave rise to fulgur in Latin which led to the Spanish “fulgurar” and the English “fulgurate” which means “to flash like lightning.” Lightning is shiny, so you can understand the progression of the word. Medical terminology uses forms of “fulgurate” to refer to things that pain us as if lightning is piercing us or to procedures that use electricity as treatment.
An archaic word in English is “fulgor.” It means “splendor” or “dazzling brightness.” Its exact cognate of “fulgor” is still used in Spanish.
In the well-known movie “Sweet Home Alabama,” there are “fulgurites.” These are formed when lightning hits the sand. The movie took liberties with how great the “fulgurites” turn out, but I use it as a well-known pop-cultural example of them.
With Christmas just around the corner, many of you may have stars topping your trees. I do. Mine lights up. It is “refulgent.” A star on a tree represents the star of Bethlehem, which must have been quite “refulgent” to lead seekers from far away. Religious or not, “refulgent” is a good word for this time of year. Even the sunlight bouncing off the snow is extra “refulgent” today.
If you miss receiving “Cognate Cognizance” every week, please consider becoming a paid subscriber. Last week’s word was “bark” — not the noise a dog makes and not what covers a tree. Subscribe to have access and to learn more.
Until next time. Merry Christmas. Feliz Navidad. May your holidays be filled with “refulgence.”
Tammy Marshall
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