This week I have a trio of related words, in a way. They’re not new to me or to anyone, really, but I did get interested in where they came from.
The first is acrobat, who is “a skilled performer of gymnastic feats,” as defined by Dictionary.com. (More on that definition in a minute). The acro root means “high” or “height,” or more broadly, “tip” or “extremity.”
I learned about the acro prefix recently when I looked up the Greek origins of the name Acropolis, which refers to the high point (akro) of a city (polis)—that is, a place you put a citadel for defense. We also see acro in the word acrophobia, which is a fear of heights. A more distant word from the same root is acid, which gets “sharp” from the “tip” sense.
What about the bat in acrobat? This is a noun form of the Greek word bainein, meaning “to go, walk.” So an acrobat is someone who walks high—either high up or on tiptoes. We got the word as filtered through French, where it was used to refer to a tightrope walker.
Back to the Dictionary.com definition of acrobat: “a skilled performer […], as walking on a tightrope or swinging on a trapeze.” Tightrope, check. A trapeze, as we know, is a bar that’s attached to ropes that let a daring young man “float through the air with the greatest of ease,” to cite an old song. (More on that song in a minute.)
Why do we call it a trapeze? Geometry, basically. The French named the contraption trapèze based on Latin trapezium, which goes back to Greek and Euclid. Greeks used their word for “little table” to refer to quadrilateral shapes that didn’t have parallel sides. The shape created by the bar, ropes, and whatever they’re attached to topside (poles?) apparently inspired the trapeze’s name.
And finally, what do acrobats often wear? Leotards, of course. Unlike acrobat and trapeze, this word doesn’t go back to the Greeks. It does go back to French, sort of—that is, it goes back to a French person. In other words, leotard is an eponym. The garment is named for Jules Léotard, a well-known 19th-century acrobat and trapeze artist from France. He didn’t invent the outfit; he apparently called it a maillot, which is a French word for a variety of tight-fitting shirts. However, his name became associated with this type of sportswear/dancewear, though not until after his death.
Back to that song. “The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze” tells the story of a sad fellow who loses his love to an acrobat:
Once I was happy but now I’m forlorn
Like an old coat that is tattered and torn
Left on this wide world to weep and to mourn
Betrayed by a maid in her teens
Oh, this maid that I loved was so handsome
And I tried all I knew how to please
But I never could please her one quarter so well
As the man on the flying trapeze
CHORUS:
He floats through the air with the greatest of ease
This daring young man on the flying trapeze
His actions are graceful, all girls he does please
And my love was stolen away
(For the whole story, you can hear Bruce Springsteen’s version of this song.)
Here’s where it all comes together. That daring young man who floats through the air? That character was inspired by Jules Léotard. The song was written in 1867 at the height of Léotard’s fame.
I don’t often dig up etymological stories that are salted with 19th-century melodrama. So when I do, you bet I’m totally going to share them.
Like this? Read all the Friday words.