Covet

From Mirriam Webster:  transitive verb: to wish for earnestly - covet an award. : to desire (what belongs to another) inordinately or culpably - The king's brother coveted the throne. intransitive verb: to feel inordinate desire for what belongs to another

From Oxford -  verb: covet; yearn to possess or have (something). -"he covets time for exercise and fishing". Similar: desire, be consumed with desire for, crave, have one's heart set on, want, wish for, long for, yearn for, dream of, aspire to. hanker for, hanker after, hunger after/for, thirst for, ache for, fancy, burn for, pant for.

Origin - Middle English: from Old French cuveitier, based on Latin cupiditas (see cupidity).

Of all the things that a person can play with, I love words. I love putting them together, studying them, enjoying them. A post or so ago I looked up the Ten Commandments in its form both in the King James version of the Bible and in the Vulgate.

A Digression - Why is there a version of the Bible called the  Vulgate? The New Testament was originally written in Greek. The principal Latin version of the Bible was prepared mainly by St. Jerome in the late 4th century, and (as revised in 1592) adopted as the official text for the Roman Catholic Church.  Jerome's Latin version was called the Biblia vulgata, the 'Bible in the common tongue'. And it remained in Latin for many hundreds of years, accessible only by the clergy and others (very few) who knew Latin until common people at the beginnings of the ‘protestant’ movement stubbornly insisted on translating it and using the translations. ‘Vulgus’, in passing, meant ‘the mass of the people’, quite literally ‘the public’ and only later took on the connotation of ‘rabble’ providing our adjective, “vulgar” to describe a range from unrefined to sexually explicit speech or action.

Are you still there? If you are, you will be pleased to know that I am about to rejoin the main thread of this discussion by highlighting the use of “covet” in the Tenth Commandment. It is really a word that is used regularly in modern English only with the commandment or discussion of it. And it is another word that comes to us from the Latin, in this case from ‘cupiditas’. Now my Collins English/Latin dictionary gives a whole range of definitions of this word, a noun formed from the verb ‘cupere’ (yes, of course, Cupid). ‘Cupiditas’ can mean “desire, eagerness, enthusiasm, passion, lust, avarice, greed, ambition and partisanship”. It switched its ‘p’ for a ‘v’ in medieval France, giving us cuveitier, and arrived in our language to become the Middle English word 'coveit'.

It is certainly not the only word choice that the learned men working, at King James I’s request, on a definitive English translation for use in churches could have used. A book I read about the translation process describes men learned in Greek, Latin, Hebrew and other tongues. They lived in the same age that produced Shakespeare and other prolific coiners of words. (Shakespeare only uses ‘covet’ three times in all of the plays; methinks he did not like the word much.) They must have had reason to decide on ‘covet’ and add the list of things not to be coveted, adding ‘or anything that is his’ to cover the corners.

It is impossible to trace what the learned men were translating FROM when they chose to use ‘covet’. If I could remember the name of the really interesting book[1] I read about this, I could quote the list of sources they used, but please understand that there were a lot. It took them years and when you read the King James version, you understand why. It is a masterpiece of language, very precise, very clear. And very current if you lived in the first half of the seventeenth century. And so, in spite of Shakespeare’s dislike of it, 'covet' was the word of choice for the commandment about not being – what? Jealous? Greedy? Too set on material things?

As far as I can tell, it is okay to want a house or an ox or an axe like the one your neighbour has. You just are forbidden to want, to yearn for, to dream of, his.  (This makes more than perfect sense when you get to ‘wife’, eh?)  (Squaring this with ‘love your neighbour as yourself’ took me some time as a Sunday School student.)

Another Digression. - I have a vague memory, speaking of being a student, of Chaucer using a word very close to our modern ‘covet’ in several places, notably the Wife of Bath and the Parson, but I can’t find the quote in context in a fast search. Chaucer’s word is coveiten,

All of us who were dragged off to Sunday School know, vaguely, that coveting something, the sin of covetousness, is wrong. But without the word being in common use, I, for one, find it difficult to know exactly what it is wrong to do.  The other commandments have language that is quite clear. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ Got it. But, what exactly is coveting? If my neighbour has a beautiful new baby grandchild, and mine are all grown, is it wrong to hold that baby and wish for those days back again? If my neighbour is younger, supple, strong, out in her garden, is it wrong to wish that I could still do the same? “To desire inordinately or culpably”; where does ‘ordinate’ stop and ‘culpability’ begin?

I wish I could remember more about the book I read about the King James Bible’s creation. I cannot stop thinking about those translators, those men (I suspect they were all men) sitting hour after day after month producing that beautiful language. Ruth and Naiomi, just as an example –“Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die; and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also if aught but death part thee and me.” (Ruth 1:16-17 KJV) How did that come to be written in just that way? The cadence, the clarity, the clean, stark beauty, all outstanding. All, we are lead to believe, the work of a committee.

 

I love language, words, communication through the best choices of words. Words, I used to pound into my restless teenagers, are tools. The more tools, the better the tools you have, the better your results. You can carve with a chainsaw, certainly, but you can carve smaller and finer with a sharp, sharp knife. And among the words in English that I love the most, that I cherish, are those of the King James translation.

In the beginning was the word …

---

[1]

 I found two that might be it.  God's Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible  – 2003 by Adam Nicolson and In the Beginning: The Story of the King James Bible and How it Changed a Nation, a Language, and a Culture by Alister E. McGrath, 2001.

But the greatest of these is charity.

 March weather. The sun shines, the sky is a glorious blue. And then, whap. Snow, ice pellets and wind. It pulled from my memory banks this rhyme by Walter Crane.

 Earlier, I wrote this, after bidding the YD goodbye.

 If I have made no other mark on the world, I have given my country two splendid women. The YD, the one I described as retired from her career; you remember that? She is off as of this morning to start another stint of being useful to her country and getting paid for it. I must admit that this does not surprise me all that much. I figured she would get hooked by someone into something and, yes, indeed, she did. I did not ask permission to publish what she is doing, but I will check with her to see if I can. And in the meantime, be assured, she is very well-suited to be doing it.

 The grandkid, on the other hand, is coming to the end of four years of university and has a mad kaleidoscope of choices. Grad school, job, year off to travel, all that. And probably more that I haven’t thought of. Her mother went the summer job to grad school route, on scholarship. Her aunt wrote the Civil Service entry, interviewed, was chosen and spent the time before she was to report in by touring part of the world with a backpack. As for me, I spent a lot of time trying to get the last three credits I needed for an honours graduation and failing. I think I blew the exam at least three times and I had been working for a year when I finally threw in the towel and asked the registrar to allow me to graduate with a pass BA. That course and the degree was hugely important to me then but I cannot recall the mindset or even remember much about the whole thing. It is so, so not important now. That driven and miserable young woman is someone I do not know – and probably someone I would not have much time for.

 Once I got my feet on the ground in the real world, what became important to me, besides my family and friends, was being of use to my community, to my neighbours. It seemed necessary for me to be put to work my time and what skills I had that would serve. Perhaps those of us who do that make differences so small as to be invisible, one at a time. But in aggregate, ordinary people doing their best, as neighbours, as friends, as volunteers, in their communities, make this country what it is, I think. And what is it? A fine, safe place to live. A place we can be proud to own. And, for me, a place to celebrate.

 I think I was in Grade 8 when I first got interested Canada as a place. It was because of a public speaking topic: “The Twentieth Century Belongs to Canada”. The quote comes from a speech by Sir Wilfrid Laurier.

I can’t remember a lot about the research or what I said, but I do recall reading Hugh McLennan’s Two Solitudes, and probably Pierre Burton, although I cannot recall what book(s). My parents, readers and with two degrees each, probably gave me material. I was hooked. My father was also a pretty avid capital L Liberal, and I heard a lot about politics and what was good or not and working or not. And that the country only survives and thrives on the backs of its citizens.... its thinking and analyzing citizens.

 Third pole of the tripod that holds up civilization, in my opinion? Civility. Patience, good order, courtesy, willingness to listen and willingness to learn. Those are the values that it is most important that our schools and our parenting instil in children so that they will grow up to be people that can live together, not necessarily in harmony but in the values that make good neighbours. Obedience to the rule of law, even if you think the law is a foolish one, is key. (I am not talking about doing 55 kph in a 50 zone. I am talking about slowing down in a school zone to a safe level and watching for the kids. Right?) It is not the Ten Commandments either – I have never been sure what ‘coveting’1 does, if it is not followed up. Agreement of all of us to the rules is what keeps us all, in the main, safe and secure.

 

1 A lot of words have been written about this. 

What I Did on My March Half Holiday.

 I had a good day today. I went to a meeting of my book club, a group of women all at the ‘grandmother’ stage of life who love to read and talk. Some months we pick a book and do an in-depth discussion; at other meetings we each bring a report about a book we have read and think the others would enjoy. The second of these two types was what we did this morning. I picked up some good pointers about books to read that I think I would otherwise have missed. And I think that my report was well received, or so it seemed.

 We also had a go-around about current politics and, of course, the American mess. I think that in general the group was cautiously hopeful about Carney (for my US of A readers, Carney has just been selected by the Liberal Party to replace Justin Trudeau as Prime Minister. He will be ‘sworn in’ tomorrow, that is March 14^th as I write this.) We were also, of course, incautiously scathing about President Trump’s idiocy. Well, not just his - Trump and Musk and the enablers of both. We agreed that the outpouring of patriotism general in our country just now is amazing. I only hope it lasts and we can hunker down for the long term it will take to wait until the idiots self-destruct.

 After this refreshing two hours, we went and had lunch in the main part of the coffee shop, the four of us who could. Others had rides already booked or other commitments. We meet at a coffee shop in the town where almost all of the members live, either in the town or close by. Only two of us have a trek to get in; mine is a half-hour drive and I think my friend’s drive is about that. We meet at this location because the proprietor has a ’meeting room’ with a big table and seating for all of us which we can use free of charge providing we buy coffee and goodies to consume while we meet. It is a perfectly sized room for our number and the coffee is excellent. So, I am informed, is the turmeric latte, but I stayed with the coffee.

 While I was thus disporting myself, my husband had coffee with a friend and then went and did all the grocery shopping, picking up the hard-to-find items and the ice cream. This last rode home in the truck bed to keep it as cold as possible. It was above freezing by the afternoon, but only by a couple of degrees. Very little melting has taken place on our laneway and in the pull-up beside the house. JG put a lot of de-icers down, but I am still terrified to walk on it, my balance being non-existent these days.

 To finish this boring report, I note that my shoulder has some flex back in it, enough that I can put earrings into the ear and wash my hair with two hands. (Try washing your hair one-handed; an exercise in frustration.) I also note that others are reporting robins and red-winged blackbirds, but not one feather of a spring bird has appeared to my wondering eye. We have a local man, David Francey, who is a wonderfully accomplished folk-singer and he has a song about the red-wings. I will see if I can hook it in here.

King Donald

 Every once in a while I get a supremely silly idea that just takes possession of me and needs to be told. And this one just in; you lot get the benefit.

I think that we should ask King Charles III to abdicate in favour of dear President Trump. And we should make the man King of Canada with all the rights and privileges of a constitutional monarch, just what Charles has in respect to Canada.

Those of you who are Canadian should know this, but for my American friends, here it is. The role of the constitutional monarch of Canada.

Canada's monarchy is a unifying symbol and protector of democratic rights, and the King is the head of state. The King's powers are defined by the Constitution and other laws. 

Role of the King

Uniting Canadians: The King embodies the Crown and represents the collective values of Canadians. Constitutional government: The King upholds constitutional government and seeks peace, harmony, and prosperity. Impartial arbiter: The King can act as an impartial arbiter in a constitutional crisis.

 Role of the Governor General

The Governor General is the King's representative in Canada and exercises those rights accruing to the crown, including giving royal assent to bills passed by Parliament, appointing, on the advice of the government, holders of many offices.

 Function of the Sovereign

The sovereign and his representatives typically "act by 'not acting'"—holding power, but, not exercising it—both because they are unelected figures and to maintain their neutrality, "deliberately, insistently, and resolutely". Consequently, the Crown performs two functions: as a unifying symbol and a protector of democratic rights and freedoms.

At the same time, a number of freedoms granted by the constitution to all other Canadians are denied to, or limited for, the monarch and the other senior members of the royal family: freedom of religion, freedom of expression, freedom to travel, freedom to choose a career, freedom to marry, and freedom of privacy and family life.

While the Crown is empowered by statute and the royal prerogative, it also enjoys inherent powers not granted by either. The Court of Appeal of British Columbia ruled in 1997 that "the Crown has the capacities and powers of a natural person" and its actions as a natural person are, as with the actions of any natural person, subject to judicial review.

Most of the above cribbed from Wikipedia.  I trust you have gathered that the monarch has no real power at all. He can 'advise and warn'; that is it. And the judicial review bit I just love.

The way I envision things, King Donald would continue to live in his castle in Florida but would have his face on our stamps and currency, would be invited to cut a ribbon or perform some other useless function in Canada from time to time, at which time we would all turn out, wave little flags and admire his robes of state. The rest of the time he would be out of our lives, just like our present monarch.

Don’t you think such a future would suit him to a tee? He would never miss another golf game and I am sure that former hockey greats and other gormless souls would continue to grace his parties.

More Martlet

In heraldry, a ‘martlet’ is a mythical bird without feet that never roosts from the moment of its drop-birth until its death fall; martlets are proposed to be continuously on the wing.

More Martlet Musings

When I started university, way way back in 1960, one of the university’s freshman events was to shut the whole group of us into a large lecture hall and require us to write out and memorize the school’s competitive sports chant. Given that the university was the Queen’s University of Kingston, with strong Scottish roots, we had to learn and sing  "Oil thigh na Banrighinn a'Banrighinn gu brath", which translates to "The university of the wife of the King forever". The chant also includes the Gaelic war cry "Cha Gheill", which means "no surrender". The Bannrighinn (F, genitive) being the Queen, of course, wife of the king since Gaelic has no word for Queen. At football games, this was sung, ideally in a long line while kicking in unison. It was thought to fuel school spirit, or was fueled by spirits or both. (Please note that when JG and I returned for his 50th Anniversary reunion, some singing and kicking was done, but not by us.)

Our major competition in the football that was the heart of ‘school spirit’ was McGill University, an English language university plunked into the heart of Montreal. In those old and politically incorrect days, the men’s teams were the Red Men (McGill’s colour being red) and the chant, loudly rendered to drown Cha Gheill, was something like “We are the red  men, feathers in our head men, pow WOW, pow WOW.” The second verse was, again from my memory, “We come home from fighting afar, greeted by our long-nosed squaws, Pow Wow etc” .  Pretty terrible, although nothing compared to what was heard after rugby games. I will not go into that.

At any rate, their men's teams became colloquially known as the "Indians" and from 1961 to 1967 women's teams were formally known as the "Super Squaws". At some point after that, McGill decided to clean up its act. The cleanup got written up here. The men’s teams are now “Redbirds” and the women’s teams are “Martlets”.

And here, proud grandmother that I am, I picture a Martlet for your enjoyment. She is a track athlete, and runs the 400, solo and relay, and some shorter distances. The relay did very well indeed. These are both public domain photos from the McGill Track and Field site.

PS Also an A student. Proud grandmother.