Loud Noises

The English language is a perpetual source of astonishment to me; I keep finding things in it that I didn't know were there, and it's one of the great pleasures of my life.

This evening I was listening to the newest Cecilia Bartoli CD, "Opera Proibita"--literally "forbidden works", because they were banned in Italy by the Vatican. (I'm not really the world's biggest fan of the mezzo-soprano voice: I prefer the electricity of the coloratura soprano, but there are a few mezzos I love, including Judith Forst. Bartoli? Also pretty good.) The first piece on the disc is called "All'arme si accesi guerrieri", which is nominally a call to peace but is plainly a call to war, reminiscent in both style and irony of Arne's "The Soldier Tir'd of War's Alarms". And that was when I was astonished, because I had never noticed or thought of it before, but clearly, the phrase "all'arme", "to arms", must be the source of "alarm". And it is! An alarm is originally and literally a call to citizens or soldiers to pick up their weapons and defend against interlopers. Now it means any kind of warning, and its meaning has been a little diluted.

I know it's no big deal; if I'd looked up "alarm" in the dictionary, I would have found out the meaning and been interested at its provenance, but no more than that. What I love is when the light turns on in your head and you understand something--you see it in a way you wouldn't ordinarily have. It's one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.

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This is nothing to do with the particularities of the English language, but the authoress of one of my favourite blogs, I Blame The Patriarchy, has just revealed that she has breast cancer and is writing about it in her usual snippy, marvellous, no-bullshit manner. You should maybe pop on over there and read some of her stuff, and if you like what you read, give her a little moral support in her comments. (She doesn't know me from Charlemagne; I just like her, that's all.)