A fine mountebank

Forgive me if I swerve from the track for a moment.

I adore old words, even the archaic ones that are out of place in current usage, which, when they pop up, can sound like a fog horn in a love song or look like a desperate attempt at smug scholarship. When you look up their etymology sometimes there are surprises about their origins. I always enjoy the rich diversity that underlies the English language, from roots that derive from Arabia to Scandinavia and from every linguistic group in between: French to Finno-Ugric. In America there are often direct connections to our immigrant forebears. Not a lot of people see the Dutch as having enriched our vocabulary, but then they may not be yacht owners, the boss being the captain. See also frolic, Yankee, and snoop among many others. On the other hand, testamentary to our tradition of xenophobia is the long list of pejorative terms attached to the word Dutch-: treat, door, oven, prince, rub, uncle, courage and on and on.

Anyhoo, there are some old-fashioned not exactly archaic words which deserve more pointed usage today. The 16th century word mountebank is a good one found in Shakespeare's work and fits nicely into current conversation without any effort. I name no names. The descriptor blow-hard is not heard enough these days, neither is windbag for that matter. The former describes a loud braggart (from unrelated nautical origins) and the other a tediously self-extending speaker (from the term for an organ bellows). These under-appreciated terms carry the weight of time with them and are reassuring in their apt currency to describe some notorious characters at work these days. The connotations and disapproving associations ought to travel with them.

Without too much mental exertion the old word charlatan springs to mind in the rich vocabulary of scoundrels, cheats and tricksters. The modernized version is the well known snake oil salesman, who has a cure for whatever ails you, coming from the Italian or French language and mixes chatterbox tendencies with a medicinal sales pitch. A carnival barker sounds about in the same vein.

Depending on the damage inflicted, a person may be a scallywag or scalawag but that denomination is far too moderate for someone whose power is enormous and able to do great harm with so little effort, such as a few keystrokes. As a side note it is interesting that the Scalawags as a group actually had a political and practical role in the life of the South after the Civil War but that is another topic.

Recognizing the appropriate word and its origin clearly does not prevent some people from being taken in and swindled. For the victim, the admission of this fact and recognition as a “stooge” is far too painful to admit, let alone embrace. Therefore the cautious and discerning individuals can only stand to the side and cluck tongues. At least we have a long history of naming these destructive rogues who damage our faith in humanity and continually affirm the willful gullibility of some.

There. I feel better.

For a gracious tomorrow with abundant kisses,

Celeste