Words of Creation – Words that end with the Greek suffix ‘-poeia’

A few weeks ago, I came across the word ‘mythopoeic’. What a nice-looking word! Dictionaries give its meaning as ‘pertaining to the creation of myths’, but I sense it has a true meaning that is a bit subtler than that.

It comes from Greek mythos – obviously – meaning ‘myth’, ‘story’, ‘thought’, ‘discourse’, and Greek poiein, meaning ‘to create’ – from which we also get the word ‘poet’. Who’d’ve thought – the word ‘poet’ literally just means ‘one who creates’. (I guess that means we’re all poets now. Oh dear.)

From ‘mythopoeic’ we can get to ‘mythopoeia’, which is ‘the creation of myths’. It didn’t occur to me, at first, that there were other words ending with ‘-poeia’, but there are, and these form an etymological family of words all pertaining to creation.

As always with this series of posts, first I will list words ending with this suffix that I’ve found in dictionaries. (It may not be an exhaustive list.)

WordMeaning
pharmacopoeia‘the making of medicine’
logopoeiaThe creation of words – not in the sense of coining new words, but in the sense that a word is formed over time by its usage in different contexts, and the associations it gains through its usages. (This word may be worth a blog post of its own.)
phanopoeiaThe creation of images – particularly within the mind, the visual imagination.
melopoeiaThe creation of sounds – again particularly in the sense of writing that builds the idea of a sound in the mind.
prosopopoeiaThe putting of words into the mouths of others – what a great word. (A complex etymology.)
onomatopoeiaThe famous one – ‘the formation of words or names by imitation of natural sounds’.

Most of these ‘-poeia’ words are quite grand, so perhaps any new words made with the ending should be similarly grand. Below I’ve thrown together some new words that could be made with this ending, but they’re a bit literal.

WordMeaningAdjectival Form
geopoeia‘the creation of the Earth’geopoeic
rhabdopoeia‘the creation of wands / staffs’ – a great one for fantasy – a person who creates wands or staffs (like Ollivander) could be a ‘rhabdopoet’ – particularly in reference to the magical, rather than mechanical, aspects of creating a wandrhabdopoeic
astropoeia‘the creation of stars’ – for extra grandeur of concept, this could be used for metaphorical stars – i.e., celebrities – ‘the process by which a person becomes a celebrity and the crafting of their public image’ (although perhaps this rather removes grandeur than adds it)astropoeic
oneiropoeia‘the creation of dreams’ – again, could be used for literal dreams, or this word could be used to refer to how aspirations are instilled in the people of a given society – i.e., the process by which the American Dream is instilledoneiropoeic
arithmopoeia‘the creation of numbers’ – could be used to refer to the process by which mathematicians deduce that a different class of number (such as imaginary and complex numbers) is neededarithmopoeic
chronopoeia‘the creation of time’ – could be used to refer to how different events and activities create the perception of time in the mind – i.e., a very boring activity that makes time go slow is chronopoeicchronopoeic
sophopoeia‘the creation of wisdom’ – could be used to refer to the methods and environments that create wisdom within those going through educationsophopoeic
alethopoeia‘the creation of truth’ – could be used to refer to how governmental and media institutions try to ‘create’ a ‘truth’ that may well be different from actual, objective truth (although perhaps this is a rather grim usage of such a grand word)alethopoeic

No, the comma does *not* always go before the closing quote mark – Logical Punctuation

‘The comma always goes before the closing quote mark.’

I’ve heard this a number of times over the last 7 years or so – mostly, but certainly not exclusively, from Americans.

And I had heard it in life before that too. I can’t remember exactly when I first heard it – I think it was possibly in secondary school, from one of my secondary school English teachers. But I do remember that when I first heard it, I immediately thought ‘That’s silly.’.

Consider the following sentence.

‘I think I like pears more than I like apples.’

Now let’s imagine that this is a line said by someone – a character in a novel, perhaps. Now, the ‘he said’ / ‘she said’ could be put at the end.

‘”I think I like pears more than I like apples.”, she said.’

Or we could split the sentence and put the ‘he said’ / ‘she said’ in the middle.

‘”I think”, she said, “I like pears more than I like apples.”‘

This illustrates the problem. That first comma in the line above – those who say ‘The comma always goes before the closing quote mark.’ would have it go before the first closing double quote mark – immediately after the word ‘think’.

But I think this is ridiculous. That comma is not part of the original sentence – what this person is actually saying. It is not part of the ‘inner sentence’ – it is part of the ‘outer sentence’. For clarity, I’ve written the same text again below, but coloured the ‘inner sentence’ green and the ‘outer sentence’ blue.

‘”I think, she said, I like pears more than I like apples.“‘

The double quote marks are the demarcations between the inner and outer sentences. You can join together all of the separately-quoted parts of the inner sentence to get back the original thing being quoted.

If we were to follow the ‘The comma always goes before the closing quote mark.’ rule, however, we would have:

‘”I think, she said, I like pears more than I like apples.“‘

This is clearly less elegant. The inner and outer sentence are now mixed together across the quote marks.

So I would say that the correct rule is: only that which is part of the quote goes within the quote marks.

Now sure, commas are for adding structure to written language – we do not speak them. (Well, they sort-of represent pauses in spoken language, but it’s not a hard-and-fast rule, and they’re better understood as making clauses easier to recognise in written text.) But that structure is still either of the inner sentence or the outer sentence, and putting a comma in the inner sentence when it’s actually part of the outer sentence can change the meaning.

I learned a while ago that my preferred style of using punctuation is called logical punctuation. And apparently the other style – the comma-before-the-quote-mark style – is known as typographer’s punctuation, or something like that. I’m not too sure about these names. ‘Logical punctuation’ is a bit grandiose, even if it is more logical, and I don’t know why typographers would be expected to be so slapdash in their approach to punctuation. But apparently these are terms that are used.

I’ve also seen it said that logical punctuation is the British style, and the other way is the American style. I’ve certainly heard Americans advocate for the comma-before-the-quote-marks style more often. I’ve heard Britons insist upon it too, though whether this is just because of the cultural backwash we get from America, I can’t say.

But regardless of what the best names for these styles are, and regardless of whether the Britons or the Americans use one style more, it is better to use logical punctuation.

The main argument I hear in favour of the American style is ‘It looks better.’. There’s just something about the lower punctuation mark followed by the higher one that looks better than the inverse. While aesthetics are very important in language, to some extent (only some) what you like is just what you get used to over time, and aesthetics should generally not be at the expense of function and semantics. (There are exceptions, of course, but generally.)

Some would say that my approach is perhaps the product of a mathematical mind. (I am a physicist by training.) You can certainly see the appeal of logical punctuation to a mathematical mind – logical punctuation perfectly mimics the way brackets work in mathematics. However, this is somewhere where the penetrating orderliness of mathematics should influence human language. Using logical punctuation allows you to avoid a great many problems that arise if you try to use the American style. The American style generally applies not just to commas, but to all punctuation. Consider the following sentence.

‘What did he say after “You’re not supposed to do that?”‘

The typographer’s style advocates for putting that question mark before the closing double quote mark, as I’ve written it above. But is the question mark part of the inner sentence or the outer sentence? Or both? You can’t tell – but it changes the meaning. If the question mark is part of the inner sentence, the person being quoted is asking a question. If it’s not part of the inner sentence, the person being quoted is making a statement.

This is clearly a problem, and if you try to follow the American style for an entire book, you will run into variations of this problem over and over again – with no way to be both consistent and always unambiguous. (You might think the problem won’t come up very often, but it does – it comes up A LOT.)

Logical punctuation solves this easily. If the inner sentence is a statement, you write:

‘What did he say after “You’re not supposed to do that.”?’

and if it’s a question, you write:

‘What did he say after “You’re not supposed to do that?”?’

Some people might find it visually clumsy to have all those punctuation marks bundled together like that. But again, the aesthetics you can adjust to if you just get used to it – but the semantic issues of the typographer’s style cannot be cleanly resolved.

I hope that logical punctuation becomes more popular. Britons seem to be split on it. But I think it’s an easy rule to remember: only that which is part of the quote goes in the quote marks.

Autoparody – when something is its own parody

It used to be that a well-written parody of something was enough to ensure that that something was never done or made again. The parody would show just how ridiculous that something was, and out of fear of extraordinary humiliation, the doers or makers of that original something would never do or make it again in their lives.

That’s how I thought it would always be, but several years ago I noticed that the types of morons that parody was so useful for quelling developed an immunity to it. They would do or make something ridiculous, and then others would rightly ridicule them for it, but they would carry on doing or making that ridiculous thing regardless. I mean, this describes much of what Hollywood has done for the last 10 years.

And then came the next stage: autoparody – when something is so ridiculous and absurd that no parody made by someone else could possibly hope to demonstrate its ridiculousness and absurdity better than it can itself. Autoparody is when something adheres to the clichés of itself so well that it almost appears to show awareness on the part of the doer or maker of its absurdity, even though there is no self-awareness at whatsoever. It is when something becomes its own joke. It is a joke without a punchline, because the punchline is the setup. It is when something is a parody of itself.

To my shock and dismay, autoparodies are becoming very common. Most of them seem to be in the form of television shows made by the BBC, Netflix, and Disney.

Why I’m going back to B.C. / A.D.

When I first found out about B.C.E. / C.E. – standing for ‘Before the Common Era’ and ‘Common Era’ – which I think was towards the end of primary school or sometime during secondary school, I immediately found them compelling. I’d say for most of the time between 2006 and 2023, I used B.C.E. / C.E. exclusively instead of B.C. / A.D.. But now I’m going back.

You have to remember that Christianity in England was different in the late 90s and early 2000s. Nowadays, Christianity is absent from most parts of English life (if you’re an atheist like me) – a result, in part, of New Atheism (of which I was a small part). But 20-25 years ago it was much more present. More people were Christian, and they were more vocal about it – more willing to mention it in casual conversation; more willing to make their allegiance to it known.

I was an atheist from a very early age – possibly six, seven, eight years old. It was very obvious to me, early on, that there was no particular reason to believe in the existence of the Christian god over, say, the Greek gods. I recognised it straight away as mythology.

I also have a rebellious streak, and a great disdain for condescension and that kind of ‘kid-talk’ voice that bad primary school teachers do. The Christians I encountered in the late 90s and early 2000s were extremely condescending, and also quite bossy and expectant. So I found Christianity to not only be incorrect, but also detestable.

This is why I liked B.C.E. / C.E.. As an atheist, it seemed nonsensical to write an abbreviation meaning ‘Before Christ’ when I don’t believe that Jesus of Nazareth was Christ (i.e., the son of a god), or to write an abbreviation of ‘Anno Domini’, meaning ‘in the year of our Lord’, when I don’t believe that Jesus was or is Lord. I also disliked that our year-numbering system was connected to – what I saw as – a very annoying religion filled with quite annoying people.

B.C.E. / C.E., on the other hand, seemed perfectly clear and neutral – abstract even. ‘The Common Era’ – a term that seemed to make sense given that people right across the world used this numbering system – it really was the common era. I was also drawn to the symmetry of the abbreviations – both containing ‘C.E.’. It seems elegant. That’s the physicist / programmer in me – we are drawn to symmetry and the simplification it brings.

So for many years I consistently used B.C.E. / C.E. every time I needed to write it. But now I’m changing back.

There are several reasons for this. Primary among them is that I abhor the obscuration of history and the loss of tradition. I have always abhorred these things – from a very young age. This isn’t a new trait. (It is something that has long set me apart from a lot of the people on the political left, who generally see no value in tradition – be it national tradition or even local or personal tradition.) And the reality is, the B.C.E. / C.E. system uses the same numbers as the B.C. / A.D. system – numbers which, for centuries, were used to denote how many years had passed since the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. (Whether or not they are accurate is a different matter – that is the meaning they had for centuries.) If any young person, new to all of this, were to ask ‘Why are the year numbers the numbers that they are? Why is the current year 2024 and not 3748?’, you would have to explain that they are based on the number of years thought to have passed since the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. So changing the words doesn’t actually remove the meaning at all – the meaning is still there. All changing the words does is try to obscure the origin of the system – it just tries to obscure a historical fact. And I don’t like that.

Also, as time has gone on, I have gotten a greater and greater adoration for old things. I used to hate old buildings – including churches. They always stank of old building – and it’s quite an oppressive smell. This was true of churches, but also think of old pavilions on village cricket greens or football fields, or municipal libraries built in the 70s and fitted with scratchy, grey carpet tiles. Somehow they all smelled the same – of old. And they were cold – both in temperature and in lighting. I was thoroughly a modernist in this regard – I like super-modern buildings made out of shiny steel and huge glass windows.

But this was before I had really encountered the horrors of brutalism. Brutalism will make you rethink your entire attitude to modern buildings. And really, even the things that aren’t brutalist that have been built over the last 50-70 years or so are also, often, just horrid. They are ugly, stale, corporate, and bureaucratic.

Nowadays, when I go to a new town or city, the place I want to visit is the cathedral or the biggest church. They are by far the nicest-looking buildings, and the ones with the most history. I love wandering through the parts of them where all of the in-church graves and memorials are, and reading things that were carved into the wall hundreds of years ago. (It’s why Westminster Abbey is so much fun – I’d recommend to everyone to go there.)

I adore the things that have lasted for centuries – buildings, statues, artwork, and also conventions, such as B.C. / A.D.. These things connect you to the past – a past, and a society, in which all of your ancestors lived. By writing B.C. / A.D., you are participating in a system that thousands upon thousands of people have used before you. By using it, you are joining them in upholding an ancient tradition. You are passing on what was passed down to you.

And in the end, the literal meaning doesn’t really matter to me. Simply writing B.C. / A.D. – or even the full wording – has no chance of changing my mind about the existence of a supernatural being. Atheism (for me, at least) is not so flimsy.

(As an aside, I did previously wonder whether there was a technical reason to switch to B.C.E. / C.E. – that being the ‘blip’ caused by the switch between Old Style and New Style dates resulting from the change from the Julian Calendar to the Gregorian Calendar. The B.C. / A.D. system, being defined from a time 2024 years ago, could be used to refer to either an Old Style or a New Style date. The B.C.E. / C.E. system – I thought – was defined from now backwards, and thus could only ever refer to a New Style date. This would have made the Common Era system more mathematically rigorous. However, I later found that this wasn’t true – B.C.E. / C.E. is just a wholesale swap-out for B.C. / A.D., with no mathematical fix implied. What rubbish. If you’re going to make the change, at least fix the mathematics of it.)

B.C.E. / C.E. are cold – devoid of all meaning and richness. They are dreary – the kind of dreariness exhibited by brown glass windows, balding civil servants, and – worst of all places – business parks (a kind of dreariness that women in HR dream of inflicting upon their prisoner-employees).

So I’m going back to B.C. / A.D.. In fact I might quite often write out the full thing: before Christ and anno Domini. In fact in fact, I might go as far as to write out their full Latin and longer variants: ante Christum natum and anno Domini nostri Jesu Christi. After all, I do enjoy writing conventions that seem unusually lengthy and detailed.

Obsessed with dying on hills? You’re an orothanatomaniac.

I have noticed in the last two or three years that there are increasingly people who seem desperate to die on whatever (political, social, or moral) hill they see. Whatever issue or cause comes along, they immediately make it their entire personality – everything about them is devoted to it. They will spend hours and hours of their life fighting imagined mortal enemies online over their new cause. And then a few days or weeks later, another issue or cause – or even just vague concept – will come along, and that is now their new personality – the one thing in all of time that they must dedicate their life to.

It’s a phenomenon I see more on the political left than the political right.

I found I needed a word for such people: perhaps orothanatomaniac. Oro- is an English prefix of Greek origin meaning ‘mountain’ or ‘hill’. Orography or orology is the study of mountains and their formation. Orogenesis is the process of mountain formation. An oronym is the name of a mountain.

Thanato- is an English prefix of Greek origin meaning ‘death’. Thanatology is the study of death. And -mania is an English prefix of Greek origin meaning ‘madness’ or ‘obsession’. So orothanatomania is the obsession with dying on hills – in this case metaphorical ones. An orothanatomaniac is someone who exhibits this obsession.

Words of Pain – Words that end with the Greek element ‘-algia’

The word ‘nostalgia’ refers to a sense of longing for a time in the past – perhaps a time in one’s own life or a time long before one’s life.

This word used to have a different meaning: a sense of longing to return home. This makes more sense given its etymology – it’s from Greek nostos, meaning ‘returning home’, and Greek algos, meaning ‘pain’.

The word is part of an entire etymological family of words that end with ‘-algia’. There are actually quite a lot of them. Most of them are nothing as abstract and philosophical as ‘nostalgia’ – most of them just refer, very literally, to pain in a certain part of the body. The table below lists a few (though far from all, as there are A LOT).

NounMeaning
myalgiamuscle pain
abdominalgiaabdominal pain (obviously)
brachialgiaarm pain
cephalalgiahead pain – a headache
dentalgiatooth pain – toothache
glossalgiatongue pain
ophthalmalgiaeye pain
polyalgiamany pains

There are a few particularly interesting ones. ‘Analgia’ – a state of painlessness. ‘Hypalgia’ – a reduced sensitivity to pain. ‘Hyperalgia’ – an increased sensitivity to pain. ‘Hypnalgia’ – pain during sleep. ‘Pygalgia’ – a pain in the arse.

There is another abstract one – ‘solastalgia’ – referring to a type of homesickness not when one has moved, but when one’s environment has changed. A very useful word.

Words of Healing – Words that end with the Greek element ‘-iatry’

What’s the difference between a psychiatrist and a psychologist? I remember wondering this years ago, and learning that a psychiatrist is the actual medical practitioner, while a psychologist is an academic who studies the human psyche.

I had this distinction memorised for many years without knowing the etymologies of the words. (Well, without knowing the etymology of ‘psychiatrist’ – ‘psychology’ is a fairly easy etymology to work out.) But recently I wondered where this ‘-iatrist’ ending comes from.

‘Psychiatrist’ is obviously just the agent noun from ‘psychiatry’, which is in turn from Greek psykhe, meaning ‘mind’, and Greek iatreia, meaning ‘healing’. So it’s a perfectly-formed word – no etymological quirks.

There are a few other Modern English words that use this ‘-iatry’ ending – or its derivatives and variants ‘-iatric’ and ‘-iatrist’. I’ve listed some of these in the table below. Curiously, in each case, only one form – the adjective, the noun, or the agent noun – is commonly used in Modern English, with the others not, and sounding a bit out-of-place. I’ve put the common-ish words in bold.

AdjectiveMeaningNounAgent Noun
bariatric‘of or pertaining to obesity’, ‘of or pertaining to the healing of obesity’bariatrybariatrist
geriatric‘of or pertaining to old age’, ‘of or pertaining to the care of the elderly’geriatrygeriatrist
paediatric‘of or pertaining to the care of children’paediatrypaediatrist*
podiatric‘of or pertaining to the healing of the feet’podiatrypodiatrist

(*Of course we usually use the word ‘paediatrician’ here, but there’s no reason why it couldn’t be ‘paediatrist’.)

Not a very large selection of words. It’s curious that such a useful word-forming element is not used that much.

As I have done with the other posts in this series, however, we can get creative and imagine some new words that use this ending.

NounMeaningAdjectiveAgent Noun
ailuriatry‘the healing of cats’ailuriatricailuriatrist
cyniatry‘the healing of dogs’cyniatriccyniatrist
chiriatry‘the healing of the hands’chiriatricchiriatrist

And more. Such words could be quite useful in fantasy fiction, where there might be various different kinds of healer.

Words of Divination – Words that end with the Greek element ‘-mancy’

Continuing my series of posts on words from the same etymological families, in this post we will look at words that end in ‘-mancy’.

‘-mancy’ is a word-forming element of Greek origin that means ‘divination by means of’. For example, ‘cartomancy’ is ‘divination by means of playing-cards’. And ‘tasseomancy’ is ‘divination by means of reading tea leaves’ (which you might remember from Harry Potter).

We also use words ending in ‘-mancy’ to denote kinds of magic. ‘Necromancy’ is often used to mean a type of magic capable of reanimating dead bodies. ‘Pyromancy’ is often used as a general term for ‘fire magic’ – as in Game of Thrones. (Interestingly, it is the Mad King’s fire mages who are called ‘pyromancers’, but Melisandre is far more fitting of the term, since she does actually use fire for divination.)

This family of words is, clearly, of great use to writers of fantasy. And, it turns out, there are a lot more words in this family than one might first expect – most of them aren’t used very often – perhaps an opportunity to bring some back.

Below are words ending in ‘-mancy’ that I’ve been able to find in dictionaries.

WordMeaning and EtymologyAgent Noun
bibliomancydivination by means of opening a book at random; from Greek biblion, meaning ‘paper’, ‘scroll’; could perhaps also be used to refer to any magic that uses booksbibliomancer
spodomancydivination by means of ashes; from Greek spodos, meaning ‘ashes’, ’embers’spodomancer
sciomancydivination by communication with shades of the dead; from Greek skia, meaning ‘shade’, ‘shadow’; could perhaps also be used just to mean ‘shadow-magic’sciomancer
chiromancydivination by the hand – palm-reading, essentially; from Greek kheir, meaning ‘hand’; could also be used to refer to any kind of magic that uses hand gestureschiromancer
geomancydivination by means of signs in the Earth – from Greek ge, meaning ‘Earth’geomancer
lecanomancydivination by inspection of water in a basin; ultimately from Greek lekos, meaning ‘plate’, ‘pan’; could also be used to mean divination by inspecting broken plates or potterylecanomancer
capnomancydivination by smoke; from Greek kapnos, meaning ‘smoke’capnomancer
gyromancydivination by walking in circles; this is quite a funny one; from Greek gyros, meaning ‘circle’gyromancer
crystallomancydivination by means of crystals – looking into a crystal ball; from Greek krystallos, meaning ‘clear ice’; this word could also be used for ‘divination by looking into ice’ or ‘ice magic’crystallomancer
rhabdomancydivination by use of a divining rod; from Greek rhabdos, meaning ‘rod’, ‘wand’, ‘staff’; could also just be used to mean ‘wand-magic’ – so possibly quite a useful word; much of the magic in Harry Potter could perhaps be described as rhabdomancyrhabdomancer
rhapsodomancydivination by means of verses; from Greek rhapsodos, meaning ‘reciter of epic poems’; could be used to refer to any kind of magic that uses incantations – and so, like rhabdomancy, could refer to a type of magic that appears commonly in fiction; could also be used to refer to a kind of magic that uses songsrhapsodomancer
cartomancydivination by means of playing-cards; from Greek khartes, meaning ‘layer of papyrus’; could be used for any kind of magic that involves papercartomancer
astromancydivination by means of the stars and planets – what today is commonly called ‘astrology’astromancer
oneiromancydivination through dreams; from Greek oneiros, meaning ‘dream’oneiromancer
ophiomancydivination through interpreting the movements of coiling snakes; from Greek ophis, meaning ‘snake’ophiomancer
anthracomancydivination by inspection of burning coals; from Greek anthrax, meaning ‘live coal’; potentially a useful word in combination with ‘pyromancy’anthracomancer
arithmancydivination by numbers; from Greek arithmos, meaning ‘number’arithmancer
catoptromancydivination by means of a mirror; this is quite a good one; from Greek katoptron, meaning ‘mirror’catoptromancer
psephomancydivination by means of pebbles; from Greek psephos, meaning ‘pebble’psephomancer
tephromancydivination by means of ashes (from a sacrifice); from Greek tephra, meaning ‘ashes’tephromancer
ornithomancydivination by means of birds; from Greek ornis, meaning ‘bird’ornithomancer
pegomancydivination by fountains; from Greek pege, meaning ‘fountain’, ‘spring’pegomancer
pyromancydivination by means of fire; from Greek pyr, meaning ‘fire’; also just a general word for ‘fire magic’pyromancer
cubomancydivination by throwing dice; from Greek kybos, meaning ‘die’cubomancer
ceromancydivination by inspection of melted wax; from Greek keros, meaning ‘beeswax’ceromancer
psychomancydivination by consultation with souls of the deceased; from Greek psykhe, meaning ‘soul’, ‘mind’; could just be used to refer generally to psychic powerspsychomancer
necromancydivination by communication with the dead; from Greek nekros, meaning ‘dead body’; has the more general meaning of ‘black magic’, and is often used to mean ‘magic involving dead bodies’necromancer
xylomancydivination by means of wood; from Greek xylon, meaning ‘wood’, ‘timber’xylomancer
onomancydivination from the letters of a name; from Greek onoma, meaning ‘name’onomancer
phyllomancydivination by means of leaves; from Greek phullon, meaning ‘leaf’phyllomancer
hydromancy divination by the appearance or motion of liquids; from Greek hydor, meaning ‘water’; could just be used as a general term for ‘water-magic’ (such as water-bending in Avatar)hydromancer
aeromancy divination by means of air; from Greek aer, meaning ‘air’; could just be used as a general term for ‘air-magic’ (such as air-bending in Avatar)aeromancer
lithomancy divination by stones; from Greek lithos, meaning ‘stone’; can be used for ‘stone-magic’lithomancer
chronomancy divination to determine the favourable time for an action; from Greek khronos, meaning ‘time’; could just be used for ‘time-magic’chronomancer

There are a few others that I found, but they were less interesting. As you can see, there’s a lot of them – you could use them in some quite interesting ways in fantasy stories.

The table below gives some words ending in ‘-mancy’ that I’ve made up with my limited knowledge of Classical Greek. (I haven’t checked if anyone else has made these up too – it’s quite possible.)

WordMeaning and EtymologyAgent Noun
electromancydivination by means of amber; divination by means of electricity; electricity-magic; from Greek elektron, meaning ‘amber’electromancer
chromomancydivination by means of colour; colour-magic; from Greek khroma, meaning ‘colour’chromomancer
heliomancydivination by means of the Sun; Sun-magic; from Greek helios, meaning ‘the Sun’heliomancer
logomancyword-magic; speech-magic; perhaps a term for any magic that involves incantations; from Greek logos, meaning ‘word’, ‘speech’logomancer
anthomancyflower-magic; from Greek anthos, meaning ‘flower’anthomancer
selenomancydivination by means of the Moon; from Greek selene, meaning ‘the Moon’selenomancer

As is usual with these posts, I may add more words over time.

Words of Extremity – Words that start with the Greek elements ‘dys-‘ or ‘eu-‘

One of my favourite etymology facts is that the word ‘utopia’ does not really mean ‘a perfect place’, as we tend to think it does in Modern English. It actually, literally means ‘a place that does not exist’. It comes from the Greek ou, meaning ‘not’, and topos, meaning ‘place’. The word was coined by Thomas More – Henry VIII’s Lord High Chancellor – in the 1500s, and used as the title for his book about an imaginary island that had perfect political, legal, and social systems – the idea being that such a perfect place could not exist.

The overlap between these two meanings of ‘a place that does not exist’ and ‘a perfect place’ comes in part from this original use of the word, but also because the sound of the word ‘utopia’ is the same as the word ‘eutopia’ – which isn’t a word that really exists in Modern English (you can find it here and there, but it’s far from common), but it would mean ‘a perfect place’. This element eu- is another Greek element, which means ‘good’, and it appears in lots of other Modern English words: euphemism, eulogy, euthanasia.

So while we think of a ‘utopia’ as being the opposite of a ‘dystopia’, a ‘utopia’ is actually a place that doesn’t exist, and a ‘eutopia’ is a perfect place, and the opposite of ‘dystopia’, a terrible place, but we might use ‘utopia’ to refer to a ‘eutopia’, as a ‘eutopia’ doesn’t exist.

All of this made me think: what other word pairs made using dys- and eu- are there? Do we sometimes only use one of the pair, like with ‘dystopia’ and ‘eutopia’? What other words can we make using these two elements?

Euphemism and Dysphemism

Nowadays the word ‘euphemism’ is used to mean ‘something that doesn’t mean what it literally means’, for the purpose of implied salacity, but it literally means ‘good speech’ – the idea being that a euphemism is some ‘good speech’ that you would say instead of some ‘bad speech’.

‘Dysphemism’, therefore, must be its opposite: ‘bad speech’. It’s a word you can find in dictionaries but it’s really not very common in Modern English. A euphemism is what you say instead of a dysphemism.

Eugenics and Dysgenics

Eugenics is the idea of controlling the reproduction of humans in order to increase the presence of desirable traits (something generally seen not only as immoral to attempt but also impossible to achieve).

‘Dysgenics’ is a word that exists, but it’s not very common. It isn’t a perfect opposite to ‘eugenics’ – it generally doesn’t mean ‘controlling the reproduction of humans in order to increase the presence of undesirable traits’ (as this is not a meaning that we really need a word for), but it could be used to mean that. It generally means ‘the study of things that have a negative effect on later generations’.

Eulogy and Dyslogy

A eulogy is something said in praise of someone – often after they’ve died.

‘Dyslogy’ is also a word that exists, but which isn’t often used. It means exactly what you’d expect it to mean: ‘dispraise’. (Although, since in Modern English, words ending in -logy are often names of subjects, ‘dyslogy’ could also, funnily, be ‘the study of bad things’.)

Euthanasia and Dysthanasia

‘Euthanasia’ literally means ‘a good death’, from eu-, meaning ‘good’, and thanatos, meaning ‘death’.

‘Dysthanasia’ would therefore mean ‘a bad death’. The word has some usage around the place – it’s not very concrete yet. The word could be particularly useful in fiction – whether a character has a good death or a bad death can drastically change the meaning or course of a story.

Eucalyptus

Not a word you think of as being related to the above, but it comes from eu-, meaning ‘good’, and kalyptos, meaning ‘covered’ (in reference to the buds of the plant).

A word such as ‘dyscalyptic’, therefore, could mean ‘not well covered’ – it could be used as a very indirect way of saying ‘not wearing any clothes’.

Dyspepsia and Eupepsia

‘Dyspepsia’ is a somewhat old-fashioned word for ‘indigestion’. ‘Eupepsia’ is a very rare word meaning the opposite: ‘good digestion’. ‘Dyspeptic’ also means ‘in a bad mood’, so ‘eupeptic’ could mean ‘in a good mood’.

Dysprosium

This chemical element is the original ‘unobtainium’, as ‘dysprosium’ literally means ‘hard to access’. So ‘euprosium’ could be an element that is easy to obtain – or any substance that is very common. ‘Dysprositic’ and ‘euprositic’ could be adjectives for things that are hard and easy to find.

Words of Madness – Words that end with the Greek element ‘-mania’

-mania is a word element that appears in a number of Modern English words, denoting some kind of madness or craziness. It is relatively unchanged from its Greek origin: mania, meaning ‘madness’, ‘frenzy’, ‘enthusiasm’, ‘mad passion’, ‘fury’.

Below are some existing words that end in -mania.

WordMeaning and Etymology
megalomania‘delusions of greatness’, from Greek megalo-, meaning ‘great’, ‘exaggerated’ – often nowadays used to mean ‘obsession with power’
kleptomania‘an obsession with stealing’, from Greek kleptes, meaning ‘thief’
bibliomania‘a madness for books’, ‘an obsession with collecting rare or unusual books’, from Greek biblio-, meaning ‘book’ – this one is very useful for writers
mythomanianot used to mean ‘an obsession with stories’ (though perhaps it should be – this is a better fit for the word etymologically), but instead ‘a compulsion to lie’ – from Greek mythos, meaning ‘speech’, ‘thought’, ‘word’, ‘discourse’, ‘story’, ‘myth’ 
pyromania‘an obsession with destroying things with fire’, from Greek pyro-, meaning ‘fire’
graphomania‘an obsession with writing’, from Greek graph-, meaning ‘writing’ – another good one for writers
phonomanianot ‘an obsession with sound’, as one might expect, but ‘an obsession with murder’, from Greek phonē, phonos, meaning ‘killing’, ‘murder’
logomania‘an obsession with words’, from Greek logos, meaning ‘speech’, ‘word’, ‘reason’ – another good one for writers
hippomania‘an obsession with horses’, from Greek hippo-, meaning ‘horse’
anthomania‘an obsession with flowers’, from Greek anthos, meaning ‘flower’
plutomania‘an obsession with wealth’, ‘a mad desire for wealth’, from Greek ploutos, meaning ‘wealth’ – a very useful one for the modern day
monomania‘an obsession with one thing’, from Greek monos, meaning ‘one’

All of these words can be changed into nouns that refer to a person who has the mania, of course. A hippomaniac is someone who really likes horses. An anthomaniac is someone who really likes flowers. They can also be changed to adjectives. If someone keeps buying books even though they haven’t read all the ones they’ve already got, they are being bibliomaniacal. 

But are there any other words, as yet unused, that could be formed in this way? The table below lists a few that I’ve thought of.

WordMeaning and Etymology 
ailuromania‘an obsession with cats’, from Greek ailouros, meaning ‘cat’ – this one could apply to a lot of us
cynomania‘an obsession with dogs’, from Greek kyno-, meaning ‘dog’
cinemamaniacould be ‘an obsession with movies’ or ‘an obsession with moving’, from Greek kinema, meaning ‘movement’ (from which we get the modern-day term ‘cinema’)
theatromania‘an obsession with the theatre’ – could be someone who really likes going to watch things at the theatre, or someone who really likes acting – from Greek theatron, from which we get the modern word ‘theatre’
technomania‘an obsession with new technology’ – using the modern element techno-, which was originally from Greek techne, meaning ‘art’, but the modern element is associated with electronic devices
ecomaniacould be ‘an obsession with one’s house – in particular an obsession with keeping it tidy’ – from Greek oikos, meaning ‘house’, ‘dwelling’, from which we also get ‘economy’

I might add more to this list over time.