to pay obeisance to (someone) (set phrase) = to pay homage to (someone), often by bowing (‘obeisance’ is pronounced ‘oh-bey-suhns’) for full explanation, see box below
e.g. By staging street parties to commemorate her Diamond Jubilee, the British people paid obeisance to the Queen
‘obeisance’ is from the Old French, ‘obeissance’, itself from ‘obeissant’: ‘an act of obeying’, the present participle of ‘obeir’: ‘to obey’.
But how did the concept of obeying someone come to be associated with the bow – or any other gesture of deference – implied by the English term ‘obeisance’? After all, just because you’re obeying someone doesn’t mean you have to drop to your knee whilst doing so.
Well, the sense of ‘obeisance’ in English altered in the late 14th century from ‘obeying’ to ‘a bending of the body in homage, often by bowing’ because the French word ‘obeissance’ was itself being confused at that time with the Old French ‘abaisance’, meaning ‘the lowering of oneself’ (altering the meaning of its English counterpart in the same way). And this is the reason why the verb ‘to pay obeisance to someone’ today means ‘to produce a gesture of submission, such as a bow (or a street party, in the case of a Diamond Jubilee), to show homage’.
objective correlative (set phrase) = (of art) a situation or object designed to evoke a particular emotion in the audience (‘correlative’ is pronounced ‘kuh-rel-uh-tiv’) for full explanation, see box below
e.g. To evoke sadness, a skilled film director won’t have a character say, ‘I’m sad’, but instead will film an objective correlative such as rain falling
The theory of the ‘objective correlative’ was developed by the poet T.S. Eliot (1888–1965), whose most famous poem, written in 1922, is ‘The Waste Land’ (a work with an unclear meaning but which nevertheless succeeds in evoking the soulless atmosphere after World War I). In one essay, Eliot advocated the ‘objective correlative’ as a means of revealing the emotions of a character (in a novel) implicitly, via the use of a physical image – rather than explicitly, by some wordy description. Eliot wrote,
‘The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an “objective correlative”; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked.’
Two obvious examples of an ‘objective correlative’ are – in a film or in a book – a storm (to convey turbulent emotions), or a scorching desert (to exemplify aridity of feeling).
obloquy (noun) = vitriol (pronounced ‘ob-luh-kwee’) from the Latin, obloquy, from ob-: against + loqui: to speak
e.g. After allegations of child abuse were levelled against him, Michael Jackson endured years of public obloquy
obsequies (pl. noun) = funeral rites (pronounced ‘ob-si-kwees’) from the medieval Latin (plural), obsequiae, from the Latin, exsequiae: funeral rites, along the lines of obsequium: dutiful service
e.g. The Untied Kingdom went into mass mourning during the obsequies of Diana, Princess of Wales
(the) obverse (of) (noun) = (within an argument) the related matter (to) for full explanation, see box below
e.g. Tabloid journalists argue that uncovering a proper scandal that can affect a nation (such as the Bill Clinton / Monica Lewinsky case) is simply the obverse of investigating the private lives of every celebrity out there, which is why the latter must never be banned
‘obverse’ comes from the Latin, ‘obvertere’: ‘to turn toward’, from ‘ob-’: ‘toward’ + ‘vertere’: ‘to turn’. ‘The obverse’ of a coin is the ‘other side’ or the ‘reverse’ side of the coin. (The ‘obverse’ side is often known as ‘heads’, because it usually displays the head of a famous person such as the Queen; and the ‘reverse’ side is ‘tails’.)
But of course both sides are on the same coin – and this is important, because the ‘obverse of a fact’ is a ‘related matter to this fact’ (i.e. a part of this fact, just as surely as the ‘obverse’ side of a coin is a part of the coin); but note that the ‘obverse’ of a fact is not necessarily ‘the opposite of this fact’ (although it can be the ‘opposite of a fact’ – in the sense that ‘the opposite’ of a fact is of course still related, albeit in a negative way, to the fact).
Examples include: ‘The obverse of my unstinting cynicism is my occasional lurch into sentimentality – as a kind of safety valve’; and, ‘His deteriorating career was the obverse of his busier love life’.
occulted (adj.) = hidden (pronounced ‘uh-kuhlt-ed’) from the Latin, occultus: hidden, from occulere: to conceal, from ob-: over + (a verb related to) celare: to hide; the meaning of ‘hidden from the mind, beyond human understanding’ is from the 1540s, and supernatural connotations are from the 1630s
e.g. The sun was occulted by threatening clouds
occluded (adj.) = closed off (pronounced ‘uh-klood-ed’) from the Latin, occludere: to close up, from ob-: up + claudere: to close
e.g. In the film Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, the occluded atmosphere of life in the British secret service is well conveyed
to apply Ockham’s razor to (a problem) (set phrase) = to take the view that the simplest explanation (to a problem) is usually the correct one for full explanation, see box opposite
to apply Ockham’s razor to (a problem)
e.g. The doctor dismissed my own hypochondriacal explanation for my symptoms and instead applied Ockham’s razor to my case, saying, ‘It’s just the flu that’s going around’
William of Ockham was a friar who lived in Ockham, Surrey, between 1285 and 1349. A great scholar, he recommended minimalism in thought processes – based on the fact that nature usually uses the simplest means to an end, so, to work out an explanation for a natural phenomenon (or ‘get into the mind of Nature’), it’s best to ape this simplicity in your own thought processes. The phrase summing up this system is ‘Ockham’s razor’, which holds that, when confronted with a variety of competing explanations, you should always go for the simplest explanation. (The word ‘razor’ is incorporated into the phrase because it’s by ‘shaving away’ overly elaborate theories, that you arrive at the correct theory.) Most TV detectives seem to apply this principle – even if they don’t credit Ockham – when they explain how they worked out that it was the butler who was the murderer, by admitting, ‘It was the simplest explanation’.
Although Ockham was obsessed with finding the simplest explanation for a phenomenon, he was also insistent on finding supporting evidence, too. Therefore, a more simple explanation with no evidence behind it – such as ‘the little leprechauns did it’ – is trumped by a less simple explanation which does have supporting facts behind it. In practice, Ockham’s theory works sometimes, but not always. For example, applying Ockham’s razor meant scientists incorrectly rejected DNA as the carrier of genetic information in favour of proteins, since the latter initially appeared to be a simpler, more elegant explanation as a vessel for DNA (but of course this was still the wrong explanation in the end, confounding Ockham’s theory). On the other hand, biologists have found it useful to apply Ockham’s razor to explain altruism amongst animals, which biologists have decided is based, very simply, on an individual’s desire to protect his own genes – by protecting his offspring, who carry these genes – rather than being based on an (allegedly) ‘more complicated’ explanation (such as mankind being endowed with a God-given altruistic streak).
The main problem with Ockham’s theory is that we are all subjective beings, and a theory that is compatible with one person’s world view will be deemed (attractively) ‘simple’ by that person, but (unattractively) ‘complex’ by someone with a different subjective view. Hence Ockham’s razor can be seen as just a ‘mirror of prejudice’, or a Rorschach test(see later entry in this book).
odalisque (noun) = a sexually attractive woman (pronounced ‘ohd-ul-isk’) from the Turkish, odalik, from oda: chamber + lik: function; an ‘odalisque’ literally means ‘a female slave in a harem’
e.g. Model Sophie Dahl is a big fan of the painter Matisse, exclaiming, ‘He can make even a jug joyful and sensuous, and his odalisques are heaven’
oenophile (adj.) = someone who is a connoisseur of wines (pronounced ‘ee-no-file’) from the Greek, oinos: wine + philos: loving, from philein: to love; note the term was only invented in the 1930s, so something less Greek – and less pretentious – could easily have been chosen (but then wine lovers do, endearingly, often go in for Greek-style, highfalutin’ terminology)
e.g. At the wedding dinner, the Pauillac wine that was served with the beef was an oenophile’s delight
ontological (adj.) = concerning the subject of existence itself from the Greek, ontologia, from the Greek, on, ont-: being + logos: the study (of)
e.g. In his teenage years, he spent hours locked in his bedroom, contemplating questions such as ‘How do we know we exist?’ and other ontological brainteasers
opalescent (adj.) = showing varying colours (pronounced ‘oh-puh-les-uhnt’) ‘opalescent’ derives from the word ‘opal’, a gemstone that shows varying colours when placed against the ground
e.g. When Margaret Thatcher was driven from 10 Downing Street for the last time in 1990, waiting photographers captured – through the glass of her car window – the opalescent tears in her eyes
oracular (adj.) = (of someone’s words) mysterious (pronounced ‘aw-rak-yuh-ler’) from the Latin, oraculum: an oracle, from orare: to speak
e.g. Towards the end of his career, Eric Cantona seemed to cultivate an oracular style, answering questions from the press with allusions to seagulls and sardines
ossified (adj.) = stagnant from the French, ossifier, from the Latin, os, oss-: bone; ‘ossified’ literally means ‘to have changed into hard bone’, i.e. ‘rigid’ (and hence, metaphorically speaking, ‘stagnant’)
e.g. Critics say the Royal Family is an ossified institution well past its ‘sell by’ date
otiose (adj.) = of no use (pronounced ‘oh-tee-ohs’) from the Latin, otiosus: not busy, from otium: leisure; ‘otiose’ literally means ‘not busy’, and from there, it’s a short hop to the current metaphorical sense, ‘of no use’
e.g. So that his colleagues should think him a ‘team player’, he attended the meeting and amused himself with the purposefully otiose point he contributed to the group discussion, just so no one could deny his attendance later
oubliette (noun) = a place hidden away (pronounced ‘oo-bleeet’) from the French, oublier: to forget; an ‘oubliette’ literally refers to ‘a secret dungeon, only accessible via a trapdoor in its ceiling’ (and hence to ‘a place so inconspicuous that it has been forgotten about’)
e.g. As soon as their retirement starts, men often seem to vanish into an oubliette of daytime TV viewing
overweening (adj.) = immoderate from the present participle of the Middle English, overwenen: to be over-confident, from the Old English, ofer-wenian, from ofer: over + wenian: to think (giving the sense of ‘thinking too much of oneself, immoderate’)
e.g. Richard Nixon’s overweening presumptuousness led him to tap every White House phone conversation without his interlocutor’s permission
