It is well and famously written that in the beginning was the Word, and for the Slavs, that would seem literally true. The origin of their identification, according to P.M. Barford in The Early Slavs, has a comparably scriptural resonance, though less well written:
"From the thirteenth century the short form, ‘Slav’ was taken as the original root (and derived from the word *Slava—honour, glory or fame), but as early as the fourteenth century the longer form ‘Slovenia’ was used to propose the origin with the word *Slovo (word, speech). It is interesting to compare this with the Slavs’ term for their German neighbours, *Nemcy (the dumb or mute). According to this model the Slavs would have called themselves the Slovani—that is the speaking ones (those who know the words) while they called some of their neighbors the dumb ones (those who do not know the words.)" (p. 29)
Barford, of course, a scholar, would prefer this rhetorical derivation; men of action, honor, glory, fame—warriors—might disagree, but they settle their disputes in other ways and are probably not even aware that words have won out over deeds here. That the word Slav would become the base root of the English word “slave” we will leave for another time, along with the richly ironic possibility of one’s becoming a slave to words.
In any case, the words arrived this week, The New Kosciuszko Foundation Dictionary, a handbook of 301 Polish Verbs, and a Dictionary of Polish Obscenities. Originally, I had made inquiries into obtaining the great Stanislawski dictionary, but decided, in part, owing to impatience, that the Kosciuszko, at 140,000 entries, provided ample heft for a beginner. A five-pound, rust-red brick of a book, it exudes that new book smell, and I sniff along its gutter, inhaling the authority of fresh reference paper. Why 301 verbs and not merely 300, I do not know, but I suppose when you get to #300, zenic sie (“to marry”—what a way to end a book!) and you don’t yet have zyc (“to live, experience”), well, you need just one more—so much for round numbers. As for the lexicon of vulgarities, I expect to employ it as I falter in the acquisition of my grandmother tongue. I remember her calling me a little dupa.
