History & Meaning of the Word ‘Woman’ in the Polish Language
Woman (Kobieta) is fickle, as evidenced by etymology itself. There are at least 20 theories about the origin of this Polish word, and yet there are other, no less puzzling terms for the female gender in Polish. What are these? What do men have to say about it?
Dangerous Liaisons
Husband and wife (Mąż i żona, respectively) were not necessarily married. These words (Proto–Slavic mъžь and žena) were initially also used to distinguish biological sex. Therefore, the fragment of Lament Świętokrzyski: ‘Zamęt ciężki dostał się mie, ubogiej żenie’ (A heavy turmoil has befallen me, a poor wife)" should be read as: ‘Severe distress has befallen me, an unfortunate woman.’ Thus, ‘żona’ – wife – is probably the first neutral term for a woman in Polish.
It was decided in the 15th century to deal with this linguistic ambiguity. ‘Mąż’ – husband – in its original meaning was replaced by ‘mężczyzna’ lub ‘mężczyna’, standing in English for ‘male’ or ‘man’ – earlier this word actually had a feminine gender and was a plural, a community, a multitude of men – while the indicator for the second gender was ‘żeńszczyzna’ lub ‘żeńszczyna’ that respectively was used to denote women. This name survived only two centuries, but the adjective ‘żeński (feminine)’ still functions as meaning ‘feminine’.
While a collectivity has always been defined as ‘ludzie’ (people) regardless of gender, initially only a male member of a family or service could be called ‘człowiek’ (a human in Polish). ‘Ród (Kind)’ (Latin genus), like ‘bogini (goddess)’ (stind. gnā), ‘królowa (queen)’ and ‘żona (wife)’ share the Proto–Indo–European root *gṷen– meaning ‘to give birth’. This large word family also includes: gynecology, genealogy, genius and gentleman, in Polish as in English. The latter (dżentelmen) is not the only male name created on the basis of the root żen– //żon– in the Polish language. In the 19th century, a bachelor was called a ‘bezzeżnik’ or ‘bezżonek’, and having proposed to his chosen one, he became a ‘żenich’. In turn, the term ‘bezżenia (could be translated to “unmarried”)’ referred to both an unmarried man and an unmarried woman. When a husband was too devoted to his wife – read: effeminate – in the eighteenth century he was called ‘żonkoś’.
Around the 16th century, ‘żona (wife)’ began to be restricted to the meaning of a female spouse. At that time, a married woman – but not only – was also called ‘białogłowa’ (literal translation would be ‘white–headed’) or, in a shortened version, ‘białka (white one)’. Married women owe this name to the white scarf they wore, tied on the top of their heads and covering the neck and sides of the face, called podwiką, podwiczka or podwijka in Polish. The painter Marcin Kober portrayed Anna Jagiellonka in such a head scarf. According to Aleksander Brückner's Encyklopedia Staropolska (Old Polish Encyclopaedia), ‘białka’ in the 16th and 17th centuries meant ‘a puppet made of wheat flour.’ In Mikołaj Rej’s writing, a peasant walks taking bites on ‘białki’, while women were also nicknamed white bread in a jocular fashion. Podwika as a ‘namitka’ has been preserved in Belarus and constitutes an element of Belarusian folk costume.
A woman who was not necessarily married and rather not in her first youth was called a ‘baba’. This word is usually associated negatively: an old woman, mean, fat, not to mention its even harsher variants of ‘babsko’ and ‘babsztyl’. What about a man who cries or acts ‘like a “baba”’? It’s a whole different story with ‘babcia’, ‘babunia’ (grandma and granny) or, usually compassionate #babina’. The word ‘babka’ (grandmother) also formerly appeared in the role of the mother of one of the parents, but also historically meant a midwife (the more modern equivalent of this latter meaning was ‘akuszerka#, and, in contemporary language it is ‘położna’).
Grandmothers (‘Babcie’) often tell their grandchildren fairy tales, and in Slavic mythology an important figure of those has been Baba Yaga – an old, nasty witch (‘wiedżma’) who kidnapped children. It should be emphasized that ‘wiedźma’ originally meant one who has knowledge (knowledge in Polish being ‘wiedza’).
The sins of youth
‘Powerful must be the gods, since they created a thing as great as the contradiction that is a woman’ – believed Eliza Orzeszkowa. But was it actually so? The arguments are provided by the etymology: in Old Polish, ‘niewiesta (woman)’ and then ‘niewiesta’ could be both a young female person who was not married, a daughter–in–law (rarely a fiancée, a bride) and a brother's wife, as well as a servant or housekeeper. No wonder people used to say: ‘Neither in the country nor in the town can you trust a woman’ (‘Ani na wsi, ani w mieście nie trzeba wierzyć niewieście’) or ‘Do not believe a woman, even if she is two hundred years old’ (‘Nie wierz niewieście, choć ma lat dwieście’). Fortunately, the biblical meaning of this word from the 15th century – ‘harlot’ – is Czech, not Polish.
Why ‘synowa’ (daughter–in–law)? The ‘niewiasta’ – that is, a person about whom nothing is known – was still unfamiliar to her husband's family. She also had no vote in the ancestral council until she gave birth to a son (a daughter did not count). This is when she would get promoted. This was the case in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries’ later, ‘niewiasta’ appeared sporadically and only in a neutral sense. Today it is often found in religious texts, translations of the Bible. Sometimes in Upper Silesia one can encounter a ‘niewiastka’, i.e. a daughter-in-law.
Just as ‘niewiasta’ is not the one who knows nothing, so the virgin (dziewica) is not the one who wonders (Polish verb ‘dziwić się’). Etymologists derive the word *děvica (diminutive of *děva) from the Proto-Slavic adjective *děvъ, ‘virgin’, which in turn comes from the verb *dojiti – ‘to breastfeed, to suck’. Hence, a female infant suckling the breast was called ‘dziewczynka’ – a girl.
From the fourteenth century a virgin was defined as ‘a girl, a woman who has not lost her maidenhood’. In the 16th century the same term was used to characterize a chaste man. Nowadays, the word means ‘a woman before her first sexual intercourse’ and usually has positive connotations: virgin forests, spiritual virginity. However, this was not always the case. Adam Mickiewicz in Konrad Wallenrod wrote: ‘Sometimes in empty cemeteries and fields stands visibly a plague virgin (morowa dziewica) (trans. M.P.).’ In ancient folk beliefs, it was a demonic figure personifying the plague.
‘Dziewa’, ‘dziewica’, ‘dziewka’ (maiden, virgin, maiden): ... The latter term remained neutral for some time and meant ‘girl, maiden, daughter’. In the 17th century, it became more and more common as used in reference to a maid (a help), such as: ‘dziewka folwarczna’, ‘pokojowa’ (farm wench, maid); until finally the word took on a pejorative connotation, especially with the slanted vowel ‘e’ – ‘dziwka’ (meaning ‘whore’). In modern times, it is used as a vulgar term mening ‘a woman who conducts herself immorally, a prostitute.’ Already Bolesław Prus, through his protagonist Wokulski, warned:
One needed to get to know women not through the glasses of the likes of Mickiewicz, Krasiński or Słowacki, but through statistics, that teaches that every fair angel is in their tenth part a prostitute; and if there were ever a disappointment, then a nice one at least... (trans. M.P.)
To understand a woman
There was already a ‘żona’, ‘niewiasta’, ‘białogłowa’ (wife, a maiden, a white–headed one) ... and finally ‘kobieta’ (woman) entered the Polish language. Or was she born here? From where? How? Opinions on this subject are divided. One thing is for sure – she created quite the confusion. In terms of linguistics, its character is best described by three features.
A fickle woman
As an ‘adult human of the female gender’, ‘kobieta’ has been used in Polish since the 18th century. It is true that it appeared in use two centuries earlier, but it is in vain to look for its traces in dictionaries from that period. At that time, a ‘kobieta’ was considered only ugly, vile, filthy and lewd. Therefore, it appeared mainly in literature of mockery, for example in Marcin Bielski's satire Sejm niewieści (A Parliament of Females) from 1586 (the earlier edition has survived only in fragments). The piece, which according to Brückner is an expression of outrage at male effeminacy, presents a vision of a world ruled by women. During the sessions of the women's parliament, Kataryna proclaims:
Though they call us whiteheads, spinners; They use ‘women’ as the insult paramount All would like to take a new wife each day to count
Beata speaks after her:
They may call their wives ‘women’, But they are not entirely themselves wise men. (trans. M.P.)
Although in 1775 Ignacy Krasicki concluded in his The Mouseiad: ‘Despite such great advantages our sex has / We rule the world, and the women rule us’ (trans. M.P.), it must be remembered that in this poem the female sex is presented as ‘treacherous, cruel and vile’. Only Mickiewicz's Telimena won the full ennoblement of this word: ‘Enough of this – she interrupted – not a planet am I / By the grace of God, enough, Count: I am a woman’. (trans. M.P.)
Mystery woman
While semantically the case is quite clear, etymologically it is a complicated one. Let's quote some of the more than 20 hypotheses about the origin of the word ‘kobieta’. The most popular one, introduced by Brückner, is offensive: from the Old Polish word ‘kob’ (pigsty) or ‘koba’ (mare) – a country housewife dealt with raising pigs. The next one sounds magical: the combination of Proto-Slavic *kobь and *věta* gives ‘a soothsayer, a fairy’. Others are more lifelike: from the Old High German ‘gabetta’, meaning ‘wife, bed companion’; from German Kebs-weib ‘concubine’ or Kopf-weiss ‘white-headed’; from Finnish kave ‘woman, mother’; from Estonian kabe ‘lady’. Whereas Professor Jan Miodek proposes a sensual theory: it is probable that borrowings from the Tuscan dialect came to Poland with Queen Bona, amongst them conbitta meaning ‘a being who likes touching, cuddling’.
Expressive woman
Probably no one can arouse emotions in language to such a degree as a representative of the fair sex. A woman can be an angel, but she can also lead one to madness, which was the fate of Gustaw from Forefathers' Eve part IV, exclaiming: ‘Woman! You thing of fluff! You flighty revel!’. A ‘kobiecina’ deserves sympathy, but a ‘kobiecisko’ on the other hand is looked at with pity. You have to be careful with the diminutive form, i.e. a ‘kobietka’, because this one is also perceived as a woman of loose morals. Although some individuals, or rather should I say some men, could envy a ‘woman with a past’ (‘kobieta z przeszością’), her abundant erotic experiences. It is true that you can make a joke about an unintelligent woman and call her a ‘kobieciątko’, but you’re running the risk of her not grasping the irony.
Men’s tendency to pursue women was termed ‘kobieciarstwo’ (the practice of being a womanizer). In the 19th century, Wiktor Gomulicki used the word ‘kobieciarnia’ (‘women's shop’) for a women's society. A little earlier, Franciszek Zabłocki in the comedy Mężowie poprawieni przez swoje żony (Husbands corrected by their wives) called the seducer a womanizer:
The moral world, that human faces with change surprises […] And the men in it today are such womanizers! (trans. M.P.)
The lady with the gentleman, while the great dame is still dancing on her own
Linguistic philosophers have long wondered who came first: Mr. or Ms. (‘pan’ and ‘pani’ respectively)? One hypothesis connects the word ‘pan’ with the Greek word pótnia and the Old Indo–European patnī, meaning ‘lady’. Then the feminine gender would have etymological precedence over the masculine, just like ‘wdowa (widow)’ and the ‘wdowiec (widower)’ derived from it. Contrary opinions are, however, more prevalent. No time to compete, let's get to the content.
The lady (pani) was identified with a ruler, an heiress – today you can be, for example, the lady of the situation (‘Pani sytuacji’), which means being a woman in control of the situation. She used to be an aristocrat and necessarily married – nowadays she is most often a teacher, regardless of her marital status. In the past, she ruled a kingdom – now a home (‘Pani domu’ – the lady of the house). This phrase has been preserved in polite formulas: in letters – ‘Szanowna Pani (meaning Dear Madam)’, in conversation – ‘proszę pani (ma'am)’, ‘pani’ not ‘panią’, the latter form used to ask a lady to dance. There are also expressive names: paniuchna, paniuńcia, paniusia, today ironic, once tender.
There is no doubt that ‘panna (Miss)’ comes from ‘pan (Sir)’ – that's how his daughter was called. Similarly, król (the king) was the father of ‘królewna’ – the princess. Panna was known to be young (although she did not have to be a ‘panna młoda’ – bride – right away) and high–born. Later, she specialized: ‘panna dworska’ (royal court maiden), ‘respektowa’ (companion to the lady of the manor), ‘pokojowa’ (servant maid). In turn, ‘panny francuskie’ (the French maidens) lived in the convent of the Visitation.
In the seventeenth century, straight from France ‘dama’ (lady, dame) came into the Polish language, and was more noble than the white-headed one. This word comes from the Latin language: domina – ‘lady’. The knight had the lady of his heart (dama serca), the queen – had ‘damy dworu’: ladies-in-waiting, court maidens. If any of them belonged to the royal family, she would be a ‘dama koronna’, the crown dame. There were also those that could sit in the presence of the ruler – then they were called ‘taboretowe’ (from taboret – the stool). The ‘dama klasowa’ – class lady supervised girls in girls' schools, and ‘dama kameliowa’ (The Lady of the Camellias) had a bad reputation – all because of Alexandre Dumas the son. Witkacy would probably agree with this, as this is what he wrote in ‘622 Upadki Bunga’:
A real woman is neither bad nor good, she is a woman – that's sufficient, and it is only the men who are always to blame. (trans. M.P.)
Nowadays, ‘dama’ is certainly distinguished by elegance and knowledge of savoir-vivre, yet no lady would like to hear the contemptuous: ‘Oh look what a lady she’s become (Ale dama się z niej zrobiła).’ She displays her figure gracefully in some parlor games, and in cards she is more junior than the king. They call her ‘pierwsza dama (first lady)’ when her husband becomes president. The British had the legendary ‘Żelazna Dama’ (the Iron Lady) – Margaret Thatcher, the Poles have legends about ‘Białe Damy’ (the white ladies) that haunt manors.
Translated from Polish by Michał Pelczar
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