What Does a “Journey into Language” Offer Us?

From the subtleties of meaning to the aesthetics of speech: let’s explore what etymology can offer an ordinary person, how the meanings of common words have changed over time, and why it’s important to know the history of abstract concepts—especially if you’re reading Plato, Kant, or the Upanishads.

A Journey into Language

Etymology is a conversation with the past, with the thoughts of previous generations, minted by them from sounds.
— S. Khomyakov

Travel is a pastime enjoyed by people of all religions, professions, and education levels. But no matter how much money you have, there’s always a trip you can’t afford (like a flight to the Moon). However, there’s a peculiar kind of journey that’s cheaper than a long-haul flight, but not necessarily easier. It’s best to prepare yourself for it (to warm up that part of your brain used to fixed word meanings). This is a journey into language—into its history. Into etymology.

You can’t travel only within your own language. Almost every Russian word has Latin, Greek, or Proto-Indo-European roots. Even if you don’t intend to cross your homeland’s borders, as you read the history of familiar words, you start to discover the roots of other languages. You realize that word meanings have changed not only over the years but also with geography. Take, for example, the curious story of the word “rabbit”:

• “Rabbit”: Borrowed in the 17th century from Polish, where krolik (a diminutive of król, “king”) is a calque of Middle High German küniklin (“rabbit”), which was mistakenly taken as a diminutive of künik > König (“king”).
• The etymology of German küniklin traces back to the meaning “underground passage, tunnel.”

The animal came from its burrow to Poland and became a “kingly” creature.

What Does Etymological Exploration Give Us?

Some languages have words with static meanings. For example, in Sanskrit, you can understand a word’s meaning by knowing the properties of its parts (prefixes, suffixes, endings), which haven’t changed for thousands of years. In modern Russian, word meanings change every hundred years or so—not all words, but many abstract concepts.

For instance, we say “spasibo” (“thank you”), forgetting that it originally meant “God save you.” Those who want a more “secular” version might use “blagodaryu” (“I am grateful”), which originally implied a promise to give a gift in return.

Even the word “god” didn’t always have religious connotations. Its original meaning was “a wealthy person,” “one who bestows wealth,” “a giver.” The English “god” has slightly more religious roots: its original sense was “one who is called or invoked” (and yes, the Russian “zov” [call] is related to the English “god”).
Sources: Max Vasmer’s Etymological Dictionary of the Russian Language, Online Etymology Dictionary.

Knowing such nuances helps us choose words that fit the context most precisely, elegantly, and aesthetically. Of course, this is for those interested in the beauty of their own speech.

On Aesthetics

In English, the word “aesthetics” has been known since 1798. It comes from the German Ästhetisch via Greek aisthetikos, meaning “perceptible, sensed.” Even earlier, it traces back to the Proto-Indo-European root au-, meaning “to perceive, feel, sense.”

“Aesthetics” entered English through translations of Kant. Originally, it meant “the science that studies the conditions of sensory perception.” Its meaning later shifted toward the presence or absence of beauty in art. By the 19th century, “aesthetics” became semantically close to “beauty.”

So, to rephrase: this pursuit is for those interested in the beauty and precision of their own speech.

Not Just About Borrowed Words

Here’s another example of how a word’s meaning can change over time: “Culture” entered Russian in the 19th century. In Latin, cultura meant “cultivation, agriculture,” literally “care, reverence.” The meaning “intellectual side of civilization” is known from 1805; “collective customs and achievements of a people” from 1867.

Culture was once what humanity created with care and attention. Today, culture is something you’re forced to study from ages 7 to 17, under the pressure of grades, parents, and teachers.

And then there’s the not-so-new word “value” (stoimost’). Two hundred years ago, it meant “to stand together,” from “constant”—an unchanging value of an object. Today, value is a much more unstable and uncertain concept.

• Russian etymology: Proto-Slavic stojati, stojǫ is related to vowel alternation with -stat-, corresponding to Sanskrit sthitás (“standing”), Greek στατός, and Latin status. Borrowed in the 18th century from Polish stać (“to cost”), stoi (“stands”)—a semantic calque from German kosten (“to cost”), from Latin constare (“to cost,” “to stand firm”).
• English etymology: “Constant.” Late 14th century, “steadfast, resolute,” from Old French constant, from Latin constantem (nominative constans) “firm, stable, steadfast, faithful” (from com “with, together” + stare “to stand,” from Proto-Indo-European root sta- “to stand, be firm”).

The Etymology of “Etymology”

Modern meaning: “the study of the origin of words.”
Historical meaning: “Etymology” has been known since the 14th century as “facts about the original meaning of a word.” It comes from Greek etymon + logia: “true meaning” + “study.” Etymon is likely related to Sanskrit satyah (सत्य) – “real, true.”

It’s hard to imagine how difficult it was to study etymology 400 years ago—without the internet or any dictionaries at hand. It was a pursuit available only to highly educated scholars. Today, this journey requires only curiosity and knowledge of a few languages.

Do All Words Change Meaning?

Most concrete nouns, like “table” and “chair,” haven’t changed their meanings over time in Russian (except for “rabbit,” of course). It’s much more interesting to study the meanings of abstract concepts related to feelings, emotions, and phenomena.

Why Is This Important?

There’s a practical reason: reading books. When reading works written in a different cultural context, we often understand words differently than the author intended. This may not matter much if you’re reading a romance novel or poetry, which evoke feelings more than convey new knowledge. But if you’re reading Plato, Kant, the Upanishads, or the Bible, the modern meaning of a word—compared to its original or period-specific meaning—can be critical.

For example, “asceticism” for us today means self-restraint, but for the Greeks, askesis (ἀσκησις) meant any kind of exercise. You might argue that a good translation should smooth out such nuances. But not every translator 200 years ago had easy access to dictionaries as we do today, and perhaps was just as far removed from the author’s context as we are.

Understanding another person (even if they lived 2,000 years before us) and the beauty of meaningful speech—these are two superpowers you can gain on a journey into etymology.