As another week commences, and we get nearer to the end of lockdown, it is possible we will once again start to experience ‘sonntagsleerung’ an early 20th century German word meaning the depression one feels on Sunday before the week begins. This, once common, experience has been replaced for many of us during the pandemic by (what I would term) ‘vollwochleerung’ or ‘total week depletion’ as our social and work lives have been disrupted, and our mental health declines. Judging by breakout behaviours, it is the young who have suffered the most.
I have great sympathy for these ‘frumberdlings’ (Old English: youth) who seize opportunities to ‘froonce’ (18th c. – frolic exuberantly with noise and energy) and ‘maffick’ (20th c. – celebrate in an extravagant and rowdy manner) with their ‘compeers’ (13th c. – comrades and allies) at any possible opportunity.
In the past the federal government has spoken about ‘lifters and leaners’ and with the focus on ‘jobs, jobs, jobs’, we have already heard the Deputy Prime Minister spruik the many Instagram – and even potential relationship – possibilities that working ‘on the land’ may provide. The reduction in Jobseeker payments will also ‘encourage’ these ‘dewdroppers’ (early 20th c. – unemployed young adults who sleep through the day) to find employment.
Perhaps Jules Bastien-Lepage’s aptly named ‘October’ will become part of a marketing campaign. “If you enthusiastically gather potatoes, you can ensure a reliable supply of fries with your fast food order”.
As readers will remember from my blogpost on William Hogarth’s ‘Industry and Idleness’ series from 1747, the notion of the active and avoidant worker has been discussed for centuries. It has also given rise to some wonderful words to describe the under-enthusiastic participants in work.
In the 16th century we have the ‘eyeservant’ – a person who works only when someone is watching.
Or, in the 18th century there are ‘fudgels’ – people who pretend to work without actually doing anything.
Sometimes, fudgels morph into 19th century ‘pingles’ who are workers that work in an unhelpful manner which interferes with the job at hand and are quickly given their marching orders.
The ‘work shy’ come in many varities ranging from the 16th century ‘slugabed’ – someone whose best form of employment would be as a mattress-tester for a bedding company given their reluctance to rise from repose.
Or, an early 18th c. version of the malingerer is a person who ‘egrotes’ and pretends to be sick.
Then there is the 20th century ‘gongoozler’ who is basically a non-participating spectator – perhaps foreman material.
Gongoozlers have to be differentiated from the 17th century employee who just wants to ‘latibulate’ (hide in a corner) and might have a career in hotel quarantine surveillance.
The main thrust of encouraging people to seek gainful employment is to prevent ‘pelf’ – a 14th century word meaning money acquired through fraud or deceit. In contemporary parlance, ‘pelf’ has been assiduously sought through the machinations of Robodebt.
Fortunately, as a retiree, I don’t need to worry about gainful employment and can devote myself to becoming a ‘quaintrelle’ (a 19th century word meaning someone who lives a life full of passion, leisure and enjoyment). However, since a puppy became part of my life, I am now both ‘quanked’ (19th c.) and ‘ramfeezled’ (18th c.) – exhausted from a hard day of puppy monitoring and training.
While I fortunately don’t suffer from ‘sonntagsleerung’, I do experience the Old English phenomenon of ‘uhtceare’ – lying awake in bed feeling anxious in case I miss an urgent toilet training experience!
Finally, we might consider a niche job that has arisen during the pandemic. There has often been discussion about the changes to attire, particularly the lack of pants, as a result of virtual working from home. Melbourne artist, Greg Creek, has a suggestion as to how this might translate into a new version of an old job in his painting ‘Canephora’. A ‘canephora’ was an ornament or caryatid depicting a youth (usually maiden) bearing a basket of ceremonial offerings on the head. While these were mostly column supports they could also be freestanding garden ornaments. Could this be the 21st century version of the much-valued 18th century garden hermit?
I would like to acknowledge Joe Gillard’s ‘Lost Words’ for this extraordinary infusion of wonderful words!!
Michael, your blog made me overcome my Mon morning ‘sonntagsleerung’ with a good laugh!
Thankyou!
Robyn
Another great German word that describes the state of staring at something with mouth open without uttering a sound is the verb ‘glotzen ’. Somehow this seems to fit into your writing today.
I love your playful use of forgotten words and their pairings with art and the art of living during pandemic. Eveya word for wakefulness in case of toileting requirements. A delightful blog. Thank you.
Wonderful, Michael, especially the old words, which are often so evocative. I think I’ll become a ‘quaintrelle’. And the puppy must be an excellent source of needful activity…..
As I chuckled my way through this Michael, a Latin word kept surfacing for the Blogger himself – eclat!
PS: Another book about words of interest is Pip Williams’ “The Dictionary of Lost Words”. It’s a fictionalised account of the making of the Oxford English Dictionary, in particular how many words about women’s experiences were “lost’ ; ie, unrecorded!
A wonderful collection of expressive words! I think we need to start using them again.
As always great inspiration, thank you Michael.
What fun you must have had with this, Michael; great fun for us too – thank you. You have an extraordinary knowledge of the NGV collection.
I wonder what you have named your puppy?