Mastering the Contranym

English is a fascinating language. Certainly not the simplest to learn, but extremely versatile. You might say that among the circus of languages, English is the contortionist. (That analogy might make German the strong man and Romani the fortune teller.  As for the bearded lady . . . I’ll leave that to your personal conjecture.)

I’ve formally studied several other languages, yet I consider myself a master of none. Nevertheless, when it comes to English, I do take some pride in my skills, and would be willing to claim for myself the status of journeyman. Among other credentials I have my “verbal” score on the Graduate Record Exam, which placed me in the 97th percentile.

It goes without saying that C.S. Lewis (along with most of his fellow Inklings) was a Master of English. One of his many insights warned of language’s occasional tendency to confuse rather than illuminate.

Language exists to communicate whatever it can communicate. Some things it communicates so badly that we never attempt to communicate them by words if any other medium is available. (C.S. Lewis, Studies in Words).

As much as I discover about English, I find there is still more to learn. This week I enjoyed thinking about contranyms. It’s uncommon enough a word that you know your spell checker won’t recognize it. One of those words only an English major is expected to know.

We all know, of course, what synonyms and antonyms are. Useful little tools for playful manipulation of language. A contranym is a word that possesses two “contradictory” meanings. For example a “citation” which can be awarded for either good or issued for bad behavior. Or, consider “literally,” which has its literal meaning as well as its recently developed and contradictory definition of “figuratively.” For lovers of words that’s a particularly discomforting contranym, and it literally makes my head explode. (No, seriously, please don’t ever write or say something like that unless it is in the form of dialog you’re composing for a semi-literate character.)

There are many more examples.

“They left for London, without a thought as to the luggage they left at the station.”

“He was certainly bound for jail if they discovered the Internal Revenue agent he had left bound in his basement.”

“He buckled his belt a mere moment before his legs buckled beneath him as he was struck by the errant meteorite.”

“Apparently there are many thoughtless oversights when programs are left to governmental oversight.”

Homophonic contranyms are not spelled alike, but they are pronounced similarly. “My aural test is scheduled tomorrow, immediately before the oral defense of my dissertation.”

There are actually a couple of alternative names for contranyms. They can be called antagonyms or autoantonyms, which only serves to make the hazy water that much murkier.

Our next lesson will feature that amazing category of words that are “polysemy.” (Not really, I think this has been enough linguistic thinking to cover us for at least a week.)

Oh, one final note, for those who were curious about the choice of the image above for this column. Contranyms are also referred to as “Janus words,” in honor of the Roman deity who constantly gazes in two directions. Very fitting.

What’s So Important about the Milvian Bridge?

Constantinian Triumph CoinWhile pondering what to write about today, I visited one of those “This Day in Christian History” websites. It cited 27 September as the day of Constantine the Great’s “conversion” (in the year A.D. 312). Ironically, the website was in error, with the actual date being the evening of 27 October.

Many people might say “what difference does it make?” but writers will be reminded once again of the necessity of accuracy in their writings! What sort of credibility do you think that website now holds for me?

At any rate, returning to the subject of Constantine’s October 312 conversion . . . it was one of the pivotal events in the history of the world. Not only did Constantine end the persecution of the Church, he raised Christianity to the status of favored religion. Contrary to most quasi-historians, it would be left to a later emperor to establish Christianity as the empire’s official faith.

The early fourth century was a turbulent and fascinating time. Constantine had to battle a number of other so-called Imperators. (“Caesar” remained one of their many titles, but it was no longer the synonym for the ultimate ruler.) One of Constantine’s challengers—who allied himself completely with the pagan faction which still vastly outnumbered the Christians—was Maxentius.

On the evening before the battle, in response to a divine vision, Constantine had his soldiers mark their shields with a symbol for Christ (most likely, a chi-rho). He would ultimately march under that sign to victory over all of his enemies. Licinius, his final foe, would also throw his lot with the pantheon of Rome and other pagan deities. Like Maxentius, he too would fall.

This coin was minted by Constantine to commemorate his victory over these agents of the “Serpent.” The Labarum (Constantine’s standard, topped by the chi-rho) pierces the creature. The legend on the coin reads “Spes Publica,” which means “hope of the people.”

On the matter of just how transformative Constantine’s spiritual conversion actually was . . . well, that’s a subject for another day. Suffice it to say now that he regarded his allegiance to Christ as sincere, and he never recanted. Oh, and the importance of the Milvian Bridge . . . if Maxentius had not fallen there, history would read quite differently today.