a "jocular coinage"

So Wiktionary describes the utterly ridiculous, perfectly worthless word brought to me by an excited 7th grade science student today.


floccinaucinihilipilification: A jocular coinage, apparently by students at Eton, combining a number of roughly synonymous Latin stems. Latin flocci, from floccus, a wisp or piece of wool + nauci, from naucum, a trifle + nihili, from the Latin pronoun, nihil ("nothing") + pili, from pilus, a hair, something insignificant (all therefore having the sense of "pettiness" or "nothing") + -fication. "Flocci non facio" was a Latin expression of indifference, literally "I do not make a straw of...".


If you still need the definition, here it is, according, again, to Wiktionary: "The act or habit of describing or regarding something as unimportant," which makes me really hope that this word was invented, tongue-in-cheek, simply to invent a big, ridiculous, gratuitously and simultaneously self-referential and worthless word, which, as it turns out, is one letter longer than the only slightly less ridiculous antidisestablishmentarianism (which Blogger, by the way, recognizes as a perfectly "real" and correctly-spelled word).


The thing that bothers me is that this word is recognized by dictionaries (not many, as it turns out, but one's more than enough)!  Dictionaries are supposed to recognize words that are in use.  As far as I can tell, the only usage of this word is not for any sort of communication but merely as a vehicle for the title of world's longest "non-technical" word.  Thankfully, and just so for the blessed sake of the great English language, whose development and evolution I'm generally in favor of, Oxford makes its usage (and only by ignominious association with its by-one-letter-shorter compatriot) simply, and with perfectly little "ink," known here.

Through the Looking Glass VIII -- chapter 6: THE NIHILIST PHILOLOGIST

Discussion of the Alice books here have tended periodically to indicate nihilism.  Humpty Dumpty is a perfect example of one who, regardless of what he professes, is a nihilist in practice (so far as I understand the given -ism), though his disregard for any established order seems most consistently targeted at the rules of semantics:  Humpty Dumpty, the Nihilist Philologist.

For the most part, I haven't looked too closely at the nihilism of Carroll (if you haven't followed the discussions from previous posts, you may want to take a look at the nihilism of The Cosby Show, here, at McSweeney's, for a ridiculous point of comparison), because it hasn't fit, or so it seemed to me at the time, with my whole selfish reason for this read-through.  Well, I'm not so sure I've been right to neglect it (though I'm not yet wholly convinced otherwise yet, either).

So here's the question (and I'm leaving it simple in order to invite the broadest possible range of responses):

Based on the Alice books, what, if articulated,

would be Carroll's stance on nihilism?

Aside from that, the substance of this chapter has rather little to do with my goal.  There are, however, some interesting points yet to be made (to which I'm happy to invite more):

1. Is Humpty, as an egg, a continuation of the egg from the end of the previous chapter, or a new entity entirely (notice that except for his condescension, Alice still isn't able to reach him)?
2. Humpty's frequent use of the word "pride" only emphasizes what is already evident in his nature.  Take a look at Proverbs 16:18 (thanks, Mr. Gardner).
3. "One ca'n't [help growing older], but two can.  With proper assistance, you might have left off at seven."  Truly the darkest allusion to death of the books.
4. Humpty's claim that words mean whatever the speaker/writer wants isn't that far from the truth.  Or is it?  Words are only representations or signs for things, not the things themselves.  There's a huge discussion here, but I'm going to keep it simple and quote Roger Holmes' article "The Philosopher's Alice in Wonderland" (thanks again, M. Gardner): "May we pay our words extra, or is this the stuff that propaganda is made of?  Do we have an obligation to past usage?  In one sense words are our masters, or communication would be impossible.  In another we are the masters; otherwise there could be no poetry."
5. Joyce's Finnegans Wake takes a lot from, or refers often to, the Alice books, not least of which is the potential import of nonsense.  Finnegans Wake as a whole is perhaps most apt for comparison, however, to this chapter, as Joyce takes complete liberty with language of this book in his writing.  One word in particular, as it recalls our big egghead here: Bothallchoractorschumminaroundgansumuminarumdrumstrumtruminahumptadumpwaultopoofoolooderamaunsturnup
6. A possible place of inspiration for Humpty Dumpty's recitation of, perhaps, Carroll's worst poem:

Summer Days

Wathen Marks Wilks Call
In summer, when the days were long, 
We walk’d, two friends, in field and wood; 
Our heart was light, our step was strong, 
And life lay round us, fair as good, 
In summer, when the days were long. 

We stray’d from morn till evening came, 
We gather’d flowers, and wove us crowns; 
We walk’d mid poppies red as flame, 
Or sat upon the yellow downs, 
And always wish’d our life the same. 

In summer, when the days were long, 
We leap’d the hedgerow, cross’d the brook; 
And still her voice flow’d forth in song, 
Or else she read some graceful book, 
In summer, when the days were long. 

And then we sat beneath the trees, 
With shadows lessening in the noon; 
And in the sunlight and the breeze 
We revell’d, many a glorious June, 
While larks were singing o’er the leas. 

In summer, when the days were long, 
We pluck’d wild strawberries, ripe and red, 
Or feasted, with no grace but song, 
On golden nectar, snow-white bread, 
In summer, when the days were long. 

We lov’d, and yet we knew it not, 
For loving seem’d like breathing then; 
We found a heaven in every spot; 
Saw angels, too, in all good men, 
And dream’d of gods in grove and grot. 

In summer, when the days are long, 
Alone I wander, muse alone; 
I see her not, but that old song 
Under the fragrant wind is blown, 
In summer, when the days are long. 

Alone I wander in the wood, 
But one fair spirit hears my sighs; 
And half I see the crimson hood, 
The radiant hair, the calm glad eyes, 
That charm’d me in life’s summer mood. 

In summer, when the days are long, 
I love her as I lov’d of old; 
My heart is light, my step is strong, 
For love brings back those hours of gold, 
In summer, when the days are long.

Sunday Poetry XIII -- THE LONGEST WORD, whose poetic value is debatable

According to my falling-apart, 1946 edition of Ripley's Believe it or Not, the longest word in the English language is this:

orniscopytheobibliopsychocrystarroscioaerogenethliometeoroaustrohieroanthropoichthyopyrosiderochpnomyoalectryoophiobotanopegohydrorhabdocrithoaleuroalphitohalomolybdoclerobeioaxinocoscinodactyliogeolithopessopsephocatoptrotephraoneirochiroonychodactyloarithstichooxogeloscogastrogyrocerobletonocenoscapulinaniac*

According to Mr. Ripley:

"The long word of 310 letters was used as a means of demonstrating: 1.  The extent to which even the English language is capable of forming enormous word monsters, and, 2.  The whole field of superstitious divinatory practices which are as old as humanity.


"The literal translation of the long word is 'A deluded human who practices divination or forecasting by means of phenomena, interpretation of acts or other manifestations related to the following animate or inanimate objects and appearances: birds, oracles, Bible, ghosts, crystal gazing, shadows, air appearances, birth, stars, meteors, winds, sacrificial appearances, entrails of humans and fishes, fire, red-hot irons, altar smoke, mice, grain picking by rooster, snakes, herbs, fountains, water, wands, dough, meal, barley, salt, lead, dice, arrows, hatchet balance, sieve, ring suspension, random dots, precious stones, pebbles, pebble heaps, mirrors, ash writing, dreams, palmistry, nail rays, finger rings, numbers, book passages, name letterings, laughing manners, ventriloquism, circle walking, wax, susceptibility to hidden springs, wine, and shoulder blades.'


"Various monastic authors of the Middle Ages writing on the subject of human superstition have actually used such a long word with a slightly varying sequence of items."

***

Wikipedia disagrees: here.

While my contemporary edition of Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable has a nicely assembled discussion on the subject of long words, the online 1898 edition is yet informative (here).

However, longestwordinenglish.wordpress.com, pretty much wipes out Mr. Ripley's claim, though it's claim as a "real" word is more dubious that Ripley's.  Of course if we can just jam together a bunch of Latin roots and call it a word, why not a bunch of English bits and pieces?  Is there a difference?

And really, what's the point?  I mean, aside from the utter fun factor!  If a "word" is never going to be used aside from the moment of its conception, then what is it really?

***

* Somehow (go figure) there are 311 letters in my transcription of the word.  Not that I'm particularly worried about it.  longestwords.wordpress.com seems to agree with me (here).

*