Tag Archives: jinx

jink

Is this the singular of jinx? It is not. Jinx comes from the Greek name for a bird. Jink is sound symbolism, expressive language. A jink is a zig or a zag; in Canadian terms, it is a deke. (Deke has a certain expressive something, but to my knowledge it is originally shortened from decoy, whereas jink is – by the evidence – not shortened from anything.)

A jink is an instance of jinking. Jink, the verb, means ‘dart jerkily’ or ‘make a quick, evasive turn’ – so as to elude capture or attack, particularly in rugby or aeronautics. Both verb and noun have been around since at least the 1700s. The origin, as I said, seems to be sound symbolism.

Sound symbolism? You know, that thing we do whereby we associate certain sounds with real-world things or actions, even if there is no actual resemblance of sound. Surely you have a sense of the difference between actions described with, say, tek versus pek versus kek, and jek and chek and then shek and so on. The different onsets have different senses of action: light, firm, hard, supported, strong, sliding… not that any one word would describe the difference with full accuracy. Likewise, everything can turn abruptly with a new vowel and with a new coda (final consonant or combination of consonants). Compare jek with jenk, jeshk, jesh, jet (which has other associations too, of course), jev, and so on; now change to jank, junk (strong semantic effect there), jonk, jink. Only one of those would really do for a strong, sudden action that covers some space quickly before slotting neatly into a new position.

Of course, echoes of words with semantic associations will always have an important effect. Jink? How about junk, Jenkins, jonquil, jangle, jingle, drink, chink, juke, Jenga?

Or how about hijinks? Or should I write that high jinks? It turns out I should – if I want to go with the origins (which are of no matter to most English speakers, because they don’t know them, but once you know them…). As I said, the word starts with a reference to deking out in rugby or similar sport. From that comes dancing, and tricking, and winning a game of cards (of a certain kind – spoil-five or forty-five – according to Oxford). And a drinking game, whereby the person who got the high roll of the dice – the high jink – would have to do “some ludicrous task” (Oxford) or drink a large bowl of some alcoholic beverage or, failing at the one, do the other. Hence high jinks for rowdy revelry and miscellaneous mischief.

I do prefer the spelling hijinks, as it happens, because of the iji with its nice symmetry and its three dots. But I recognize that the fun of the spelling has hijacked (not high jacked) the original form. Well, so be it. I’d rather hijinks put me in hiding than have low jinks in my lodgings.

What are low jinks? I would have thought they would be as boring as hijinks are exciting, but according to dictionary.com, low jinks are “merrymaking or horseplay that is less than tasteful.” Which actually sounds just like hijinks to me – if hijinks were tasteful, they wouldn’t be hijinks, would they? It seems as though low jinks has somehow made an unexpected sharp turn in sense.

jinx

We just watched The Theory of Everything. I noticed that the editor was named Jinx Godfrey.

Hmm. Jinx. Haven’t done that one yet. Until now.

Jinx Godfrey’s given name is actually Jessica (of course I dug up her info online; easily found, she’s a well respected film editor), but Jinx is much more catchy, don’t you think? I associate it with one other person in the movies: Jinx Johnson, a Bond girl played by Halle Berry in Die Another Day.

Jinx is also a name (I find) for a female supervillain from Wonder Woman comics and for a female soldier from GI Joe. The lead singer of the American metal band Coven is named Jinx Dawson – her given name from birth (after a family name, Jinks). There’s a line of clothing called J!NX.

Now tell me why Jinx would seem like a name more for a woman than for a man.

No doubt there are elements of traditional masculinist prejudices: women being bad luck and all that. The usual pain-in-the-neck prejudices.

But what else? Its rhyme with minx, perhaps? How about some desired hijinks? Any recollection of the Sphinx or perhaps of Syrinx, both female? Or of wry little winks? The final x has that promissory kiss of sex and just happens to show up on various words for female versions of persons: aviatrix, editrix, executrix… Such multifarious links.

Originally, of course, a jinx could be anyone or anything. The OED gives Jonah as an epitome of the type: the ship he was on was doomed to sink until he was tossed overboard. Even today, we have many jinxes not at all associated with women. If two people say something at the same time, a tradition is to say “Jinx! You owe me a beer” – whoever does so first supposedly collects the beer (although my ledger of beers owed and owing through this claim surely totals in the dozens and yet none has ever been paid).

Also, if a person makes a forward-looking statement that seems to presuppose a positive outcome of an uncertain endeavour, that may be thought to jinx it. Any time some Olympic commentator says something like “The only question is what colour {his|her} medal will be,” that is a jinx; I can’t even tell you how many times (but at least several in my hearing), after that has been said, some disaster has befallen the athlete in question, putting him or her out of the medals. I wish those bloody sportscasters would owe me a beer after doing that, and the athlete too, and pay up. A complete pain the neck – just torture to hear it. I have a bird every time they do.

A bird? How about a wryneck – the bird that shares its name with a condition also known as torticollis that is indeed a big pain in the neck? This wryneck, a kind of woodpecker, has a sinuous neck that allows it to turn its head nearly 180 degrees back, and they use this twisting along with hissing as a threat display. You could consider them Linda Blairs (of The Exorcist) of the bird world, minus the projectile emesis. They also have a history – no doubt related – of being used in witchcraft.

The Greek name of the wryneck is ἴυγξ iugx (pronounced “iunx”), which was Latinized as iynx, which in modern Latin – which differentiates j from i – is jynx. This jynx is the etymon of jinx; the word for the ill-fated person or thing is taken directly from the word for the bird, and respelled.

Actually I like the y spelling better. It’s true that the i spelling has the two dots, but the y spelling has the two tails (and how many tales!), and y is a less common letter, and anyway, maybe a bit of XY would balance out the sexes for this word.