Our word 'earth' is from a Germanic root (and here I will
use the þ symbol for the 'thorn', the soft 'th') erþa in Old Teutonic and airþa
in Gothic, while the Swedes and the Danes have jord, and the Dutch have aarde
(to make hard work of it, the aardvark of the Boers is a dirt-pig, or maybe an earth-pork), and in
German, the ground is die Erde.
Soil is the tribal patch of ants. Don't knock it! |
But even in those days, 'earth' also had the idea of element attached to it, as in this Old English phrase: "Seó eorþ is dryge and ceald and ðæt wæter wæt and ceald" — the earth is dry and cold, the water is wet and cold (compare 'Séo' and the German 'sie').
There seem to be about six ideas used in different languages
that relate to "earth": in English they are represented by dirt (as
in 'dirty'), soil, land, earth, world and planet. In Latin, the main terms are
terra, humus and solum, with humus being what we are buried in, according to
the student song, Gaudeamus igitur
(which means let us rejoice, but seems usually to be sung as a dirge), rather
than our more restricted use of the word. I wonder what Latin word was used for
earth in the sense of one of the four elements?
Ant lions live in the earth, too. Look out, ants! |
(Whatever happens to the Great in the Latin version?)
Anyhow, terra which is the soil in the Italian terra rossa is now a land, as it is in Tierra del Fuego, though not yet promoted to the level of terrestrial, which can be either on dry land (terra firma) or something found on our planet, as opposed to extra-terrestrial.
We speak of a man on the land when we mean a farmer of the
male persuasion, while those who live off the land are exploiters of the
environment in all its forms.
It seems almost as if the word we use depends on our continually widening horizons over the past millennium or so. For example, the Icelandic jörð can mean earth, land or estate, depending on the context.
It seems almost as if the word we use depends on our continually widening horizons over the past millennium or so. For example, the Icelandic jörð can mean earth, land or estate, depending on the context.
What began as the garden became the land we lived on, then
the tribal patch, the land that the clan lived on, then perhaps a continent,
and finally the world.
All the same, the world of the Romans (mundus) was far less than the world of the Italians or French (mondo or le monde). To the Romans, the world was just a small patch around the Mediterranean Sea (which is the sea 'in the middle of the world').
All the same, the world of the Romans (mundus) was far less than the world of the Italians or French (mondo or le monde). To the Romans, the world was just a small patch around the Mediterranean Sea (which is the sea 'in the middle of the world').
The need for a name for the area larger than one's normal
reach and travels came with trade. The Swahili word for 'world' is dunia, and the same word is used in
Indonesian.
This is not surprising, as it is an Arabic word, brought in by Arabic-speaking traders in each area, but I have minimal knowledge of Arabic, so I cannot say what precisely it means in Arabic. All I know for sure is that the same word is also used in Turkish.
This is not surprising, as it is an Arabic word, brought in by Arabic-speaking traders in each area, but I have minimal knowledge of Arabic, so I cannot say what precisely it means in Arabic. All I know for sure is that the same word is also used in Turkish.
I note, in passing, that
Frank Herbert apparently had some Arabic, and his planet of Dune was almost certainly cognate with dunia — he uses enough other
Arabic-related terms in that novel.
So the short answer is that our word 'earth' is very old
Germanic, but the interchange over time of the various words used to mean the
stuff under our feet is a much longer story.
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