Body Parts
Today’s post is about the human body, its parts, and how Marešidi goes about labeling them.
When you think about the parts of the body in English, there are a few that have linguistic similarities. For example, the parts around and relating to the eye: eye, eyelash, eyelid, eyebrow, eyeball, they all have that prefix /eye-/. The edge of the hair is the hairline. The nook behind the upper arm is the armpit. The bone at the bend on the knee is the kneecap.
Some parts of the eye in Marešidi
But a lot of our body parts are named in ways that show no relation to one another. The wrist is below the hand which contains the palm, thumb, and other fingers. What do those words have to do with one another? It turns out, nothing. There are other ways to label things, one of the biggest ones being association or metaphor. The bridge of the nose is not an actual bridge in the sense that it is something we can use to cross a landgap. It is called that way because it looks like one and it has a similar function by connecting parts of our face. If the association is able to stick, metaphor can be one of the most useful ways to create new words.
This is a fun balance that both natural and constructed languages get to play with. Of course, new words can be created arbitrarily; the word jaw originally meant jaw, it didn’t come from anywhere. But, many words come into existence because they base themselves around already existent ones, often in a metaphorical sense. The word wrist likely comes from the verb to writhe and while the wrist is certainly a contender for writhing, there is no reason why it had to get the official title. In another universe the word for wrist is hand-stand and nobody bats an eye. In Marešidi, the words nose and nostril are completely linguistically separate, while in English, one obviously descends from the other.
As for the words that are linguistically-derived, the main way that I am achieving this is with the use of prefixes and suffixes. Suffixes and prefixes don’t always come from other words, but often they come from nouns. One very common prefix is /the-/ which indicates the center or middle of the noun it joins to; it is a reduced form of the noun ther which means “center or middle.” One suffix (featured in my last post in the word for “library,” šabtoš) is /-toš/, a noun meaning “place.” When tacked to the end of a noun, it indicates “a place for [that noun].”
With that little affix lesson out of the way, below is a (non-exhaustive) list of body parts in Marešidi. Many of the words are standalone (they don’t come from other words) but the majority are words that build off of others. As you look through it, try to recognize roots which are reused in other body parts.
/thuth/ heart
/theriros/ shoulder
/thepol/ pupil
/thal/ hair
/ḅith/ chin
/žebut/ eyebrow
/vit/ nose
/vapil/ skin
/tšuš/ forehead, wall
/tom/ lung
/tiriš/ egg
/tibvel/ tissue
/semfud/ ring finger
/saf/ ear
/rosthuth/ brain
/ros/ head
/rifud/ pinkie
/rašiv/ mouth
/raš/ lip
/puthud/ middle finger
/pon/ neck
/pol/ eye
/pafut/ sperm
/natš/ face
/mišud/ index finger
/meḅ/ tooth
/mathal/ hairline
/manatš/ jaw
/mabvud/ wrist
/luvor/ blood
/lofipruž/ nipple
/lofip/ milk
/fud/ finger
/fir/ pool, iris
/fišud/ thumb
/faž/ cheek
/dhubv/ nostril
/dob/ tongue
/diš/ body
/bvud/ hand
/bup/ temple (head)
/bimathuth/ chest
/šil/ arm
/tišil/ upper arm
/madhešil/ forearm
/thešil/ elbow
/thebvud/ palm
/pumabvud/ knuckle
/mul/ leg
/timul/ upper leg
/madhemul/ lower leg
/themul/ knee
/nef/ foot
/manef/ ankle
/thenef/ heel
/nefud/ toe
/tidiš/ torso
/ḅem/ belly/stomach
/šan/ back (body)
/tišan/ upper back
/madhešan/ lower back
/theḅem/ navel
/maḅem/ hips
/žin/ genitals
/bimatiriš/ vagina
/bimapafut/ penis
/fobv/ butt
/thešan/ spine
/pufum/ nail
Let’s take the root, bvud, for example. On its own, it means ‘hand.’ When it takes the prefix meaning “the edge of [something],” it becomes the word for ‘wrist.’ When it takes on the prefix meaning “the center of [something],” it becomes the word for ‘palm.’ The word for ‘foot,’ mul, undergoes identical processes for the words meaning ‘ankle’ and ‘heel.’
‘Knuckle’ is pumabvud, and although the root is bvud, there is a double-prefix instead of just one, /pu-/ meaning ‘little’ and /ma-/ meaning ‘edge.’ This has the potential to create double-meanings. While pumabvud is likely to mean ‘knuckle’ it also might mean ‘little wrist’ in cases where it makes sense (like talking about a baby.’ You can even apply it twice, pupumabvud, in order to express ‘little knuckle.’
The word for ‘heart’ is thuth, but when it takes the prefix meaning, “the home for [something],” it becomes the word for ‘chest.’ When it is compounded with the word for ‘head,’ ros, it becomes the word for ‘brain,’ rosthuth, or perhaps more literally, ‘heart of the head.’
The prefixes /madhe-/ and /ti-/ are used in several areas, referring to the lower and upper parts of the words they attach to. But, you may also notice that /ti-/ is in the word for “egg,” tiriš. This is one of the complicated parts of affixes: they can have different meanings in different contexts. In the context of tiriš, the prefix is combined with the word riš meaning “circle,” but /ti-/ has a different connotation here, instead indicating something like a seed, the start of a process. One could translate tiriš as “the starting circle,” an example of metaphor and linguistic derivation working together.
The parts of the hand in Marešidi
The affixes don’t always have to be ambiguous. Take the words for the fingers starting at the thumb: fišud, mišud, puthud, semfud, rifud. Individual finger names are created by combining a number with fud meaning “finger.” But, you may notice that not all of the fingers have an /f/ in them, namely the thumb, index, and middle finger. This will be explained in a later post, but it has to do with natural sound changes that break up similar consonants, processes that are governed by linguistic rules and are not arbitrary.
Something to note, when referring to a series, Marešidi begins counting with the number zero and this is why the word for thumb would directly translate as “zero-finger.” Similarly, in my story, the original Capital city is officially called Fišpisabir, in other words “City Zero.”
The Marešidi word Fišpisabir meaning "City Zero"
While languages having a built-in level of arbitrariness can be freeing, it can also be a bit intimidating. Part of this process has been questioning myself over-and-over. At the end of the day, I have to make decisions that I might regret later on once the language is further developed. Of course, I can always change it, but it creates a tension that I want to be transparent about. The word for ‘milk’ is lofip, the word for ‘air’ fip and the liquid prefix /lo-/. It translates directly to “liquid, life-sustaining substance,” but recently I’ve been questioning this decision. Isn’t ‘blood’ a more accurate descriptor for a “liquid, life-sustaining substance?” Or even ‘water?’ But, ‘blood’ already has a word, luvor. So does ‘water,’ sumel, and they’re like jaw in that they come from nowhere.
As you can see, creating a language requires thinking about a lot of factors and it takes some rolling with the punches. That all being said, lofipruž is the word for ‘nipple’ and you can see how it incorporates the word for ‘milk’ by joining it to a suffix indicating a “vessel for [something].”
I hope this was a comprehensive layout of how the body is labeled in Marešidi that helped to illustrate my process of creating words. Always feel free to leave a comment with questions or observations or email me at dillon@betweentwotongues.com
Thanks for reading!
Dillon
