Wordy Wednesday: inexorable

in·ex·o·ra·ble /ɪnˈɛksərəbəl/ [in-ek-ser-uh-buhl]
–adjective

1. unyielding; unalterable: inexorable truth; inexorable justice.

I like this word, though it brings a negative connotation for me. Years ago I wrote a poem about people wandering a post-apocalyptic landscape, and made use of this word. It's not a happy poem by any means. It's not exactly 'depression poetry', which is something I wrote as a teenager during periods of particularly bleak mood. I'm sure this is, or at least was, common amongst moody teens.

The Online Etymology Dictionary says the word dates from the 1550s, though it has its roots in Latin. The Latin word 'exorabilis' means 'able to be entreated', deriving originally from 'ex', meaning 'out' and 'orare', 'to pray'.

The idea behind 'inexorable' is that no matter what you do, no matter how you beg or plead, bribe or threaten, you cannot change the situation. You cannot convince the landslide to not destroy your home. You cannot buy your way out of that high-priced speeding ticket. Something is going to happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

So it opens up a kind of scary, depressing subject. It lends itself well to depressing poetry and post-apocalyptic stories.

I'm going to be brave and show you a piece of this high-school poem. Imagine if you will a group of people walking on through a bombed-out landscape. They've got no supplies, they've got injuries, they don't know what's out there, they don't know where to go. All they know is that here is bad; if they stay here, they'll die for sure. So they go. They encounter poisonous areas. Some of them die. They're sickened from the toxic environment, prompting some to kill others to end their suffering. The poison snow of nuclear winter, as I imagined it then, falls on them, and some more of them die. Now they're just walking on because it's habit, it's all they can do. Maybe help is over the next ridge. Maybe it isn't. But they have to press on, just in case a few of them can manage to make it.

Now the mangy travelers
Are only one or two
Their minds are blank and barren
As they plod inexorably on

We are searching for the end
We are groping for the end
We are longing for the end
Death now a welcome prospect

By way of apology for raining on your parade in this way, here's a video on 'Reasons to Be Cheerful':


...followed by Ian Dury & The Blockheads' "Reasons to Be Cheerful":


I couldn't decide on just one, so you get two. Be cheerful today!

A Belated 'Wordy Wednesday'?

I've been considering doing 'Wordy Wednesday' as a feature on this blog, but so far I haven't implemented it. Tuesday I picked up the latest copy of BookPage at my local library, and on the back page is a column entitled 'WordNook'. BookPage is a great little free magazine that you can read in its entirety online if you don't have a local outlet that carries it. Many bookstores and libraries do. There's a list on the site to help you find the closest.

BookPage features reviews of upcoming books of all genres to help you decide which you'd like to check out from your library add to your own personal collection. It also has a column called 'Author Enablers', where prospective writers send questions about the industry and writing life. They have a blog as well.

Enough babbling: where's the wordage, you cry? Okay, the letter that caught my attention was about the word ruth. The letter asked if ruthless was ever used without the -less, if there was ever a ruthsome or ruthful. Here's what the people at WordNook had to say:

Yes, Virginia, there is a ruth! It's more than a century older than ruthless, and it hasn't seen much recent use, but it's still a valid word. Ruth can mean either "compassion for the misery of another" or "sorrow for one's own faults". Ruthful, ruthfully, and ruthfulness are other ruth- words that have declined in use just in the past century. In addition, there are ruthly and ruthness, which have been in disuse for several centuries and are now considered obsolete. But we regret to tell you that we have no evidence that there has ever been a ruthsome.

They go on to mention that ruth descends from the Middle English verb ruen, which means "to rue". It's not related to the name Ruth, because that name has its origins in Hebrew.

Well, now you know. And now the word ruth looks weird to me. I wonder what causes that. Perhaps that's a topic for another time.