“Curiosity never killed this cat.”

- Studs Terkel

Atticism (often with a lowercase a) is concise, superior, polished discourse and diction. The adjective attic describes elegant, subtle, incisive expression and articulation, with a strong admixture of subtle wit. The English poet John Milton (1608 - 1674) wrote:

What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, of Attic taste...

Attica was the name of a region in the southeasterly part of ancient Greece. It was under the rule and influence of Athens, whose culture reached its height around the middle of the fifth century B.C. — the age of Pericles, the great poets, dramatists, sculptors and architects. The Roman historian Pliny the Elder (23-79) wrote of "sal atticum" (Attic wit — literally, Attic salt; sal (salt) was used figuratively by the Romans to mean "wit"). Attic wit is dry, delicate, subtle wit. The Romans had a verb atticisare ("atticise") to describe the imitation of Athenian diction and expression. Atticism, then, is the art of the elegant, well-timed expression, refined simplicity laced with sophistication and wit. In more modern times, the distinction between these two styles has been described in a learned article by Bryan A. Garne in Volume X, No. 3 of Verbatim, the Language Quarterly, which includes this passage:

English inherited two strains of literary exression, both deriving ultimately from Ciceronian Latin. One the one hand is the plain style now in vogue, characterized by unadorned vocabulary, directness, unelaborate syntax, and earthiness. (This syle is known to scholars as Atticism). On the other hand we have the grand style, which exemplifies floridity, allusivenss, formal sometimes abstruse diction, and rhetorical ornament. Proponents of this verbally richer style (called Asiaticism) proudly claim that the nuances available in the "oriental profusion" of English synonyms make the language an ideal putty for the skilled linguistic craftsman to mold and shape precisely in accordance with his conceptions.

Well may you ask, what has this to do with the attic of a house, the room or story just under thre roof? Here is the answer: In the residences of the rich in old Attica, there was often a small row of columns or pilasters placed on the roof, as a decorative feature. Neo-Grecian architecture became fashionable in England in the 17th century. In error, the top floor of a building fashioned in the Attic style was called the "Attic storey" (story meaning, "floor of a house," has an e before the y in British English). Error, because the Attic feature was a facade, whereas the English imitation was an eclosed floor. In time, the upper case A became a small a, the "storey" was dropped, and we wond up with, simply, attic.

A petard was a heavy explosive engine of war, filled with gunpowder and fastened to gates to blow them in or to walls, barricades, etc., to smash them and form a breach. The soldier whose job it was to fire the device was always in danger of blowing himself up as well, in which case he would wind up hoist with his own petard. In Shakespeare's Hamlet (Act III, scene 4) the prince says to the queen:

...'tis the sport to have the engineer
Hoist with his own petar...
But I will delve one yard below their mines,
And blow them at the moon.

(Shakespeare spelt it petar, possibly influenced by the French pronunciation of petard in which the -d is silent.) Hamlet was speaking of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, commissioned by King Claudius to escort him to England and see to his death; but as the play develops, it is they who will be done in, and thus hoist with their own petard. To be thus hoist is to be caught in the trap laid for someone else. This was indeed the fate of certain inventors of torture devices and dreadful places of imprisonment, like the Bastille built by Hugh Aubriot, Provost of Paris c. 1360, where he was the first to be imprisoned. In the Book of Esther 7:9 Haman was hanged on the high gallow he had devised for the hanging of Mordecai, and the witch-hunter Matthew Hopkins, tried for witchcraft under the rules he had set up, was himself executed as a wizard in 1647. Petard has an amusing derivation: via Middle French petard, related to peter (to fart), from the Latin peditum (breaking wind), neuter form of peditus, past participle of pedere (to fart). In this age of jet propulsion, doesn't that derivation give hoist with one's own petard a new twist?

Umbrageous has two entirely distinct meanings. Its principal meaning is "shady," in the sense of creating or providing shade, like the famus "...spreading chestnut tree..." (in the poem by the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807-1882) under which "...the village smithy stands..." An umbrageous tree, then, is a shade tree. But an umbrageous person (umbrageous here refers back to the word umbrage, a feeling of offense, resentment, and annoyance, usually found in the expression to take umbrage) is one quick to take offense. When umbrageousness reaches the point of mental disorder, it becomes paranoia. Umbrageous is from Latin umbratus, past participle of umbrare (to shade or overshadow), and it may be the feeling of being overshadowed that creates the umbrage. Umbrageous trees provide shade; umbrageous people feel overshadowed.

From the book, “1000 Most Challenging Words” by Norman W. Schur, ©1987 by the Ballantine Reference Library, Random House.

Anything described as numinous is spiritual, has a sacred quality, is mysterious and awe-inspiring. Numen (NOOH mun) is literally, "nod" in Latin, related to the verb nutare (to nod, or keep nodding), and by extension came to mean "divine will" (as indicated by the nod of a god). Numen was taken over intact, to mean "divine power" or "spirit," and gave rise to the adjective numinous, which denotes a quality that is divine, especially in the sense that it is beyond human understanding. There is something numinous in the late quartets of Beethoven. Dark forests have a numinous quality that inspires reverence and awe. The Roman satirist Juvenal (60-c. 130) wrote that if people had foresight, Fortuna wouldn't be a goddess — she would have no numen.

This selection is taken from the book, “1000 Most Challenging Words” by Norman W. Schur, ©1987 by the Ballantine Reference Library, Random House.