STRUNG ALONG
The Pedant Class and Your Stars
LAST week I attended a delightful junior school production of Pinocchio, in which my 13-year-old friend played the role of Stromboli the puppetmaster.
One of the songs she and her cohorts performed contained the word “marionette”, a term not frequently bandied about in modern primary school corridors. (Although what would I know of such things? Perhaps old-fashioned words are making a comeback. Perhaps pupils now take laudanum when suffering from consumption, and catch a pantechnicon to the aerodrome thrice a fortnight.)
A marionette is a puppet worked by strings (as opposed to the finger or sock variety of puppet). The word “marionette” can be traced back to a diminutive term for a small picture of Marie, which is what the French call the Virgin Mary when on friendly terms with her.
It might be more common to hear post-millennials talking of marionettes and malfeasance than it is to see such a sainted lady dancing about on the end of a string, but etymology is full of surprises.
The word “puppet” comes from the French diminutive poupée, which in the 13th century meant a doll and from which we also get “puppy”. If you question the association of small dogs with toys, all you have to do is visit one of those boutiques that sell corsets for corpulent Chihuahuas and tank tops for tiny terriers.
Dig further into the origins of puppets and puppies and you come to the Latin pupa — from which we also get “pupil”.
Pupa was the word used for dolls, girls and puppets (it was later borrowed by Linnaeus to describe that other undeveloped creature on its way from larva to winged insect).
At this point, feminists should be tearing puppets from their strings and stomping on them in a rage engendered by the word’s sexist origins. Incidentally, when I was at primary school we did not sing highbrow songs about marionettes. We were coached by a formidable choir mistress in the harmonies of a terrible song called Puppet on a String, which actively encouraged the practice of unrequited love.
It seems more thought is now given to the lyrics of songs taught to impressionable children. Also, as happens with words and wooden boys with long noses, “puppet” walked away from its association with young females and took on a life of its own.
“Puppet” is now most commonly used as a contemptuous term for a political leader who is led by others rather than by his own counsel — although I’m sure this was not in the minds of those who created Puppet Nation, the South African TV series that has recently been nominated for an Emmy award. I’m sure it is only called that because it stars actual puppets.
“Muppet”, a word trademarked in 1971 by muppetmaster Jim Henson, has also become an insult. Few words escape this fate. If you ask me, the next word that should be reduced to an expletive shouted out of car windows is “archetype”. It is already so overused and abused, it might as well go the whole roadhog.
“Archetype” comes from the Greek arkhe (“primitive”) and tupos (“model”). It is pretty much the ‘Pupa’ was the word used for dolls, girls and puppets same as a prototype, which would also be a good one to hurl at redlight-jumpers.
Pinocchio is an archetypal story of love, courage and how to escape from a whale. Escaping from the puppetmaster stereotype is proving more difficult. My young friend fears she may have been typecast because everyone now calls her Stromboli. I told her she should be proud of a name shared with a volcanic island and a rolled-up Italian sandwich. She’s not convinced. LS