“Euripides also speaks of [Erikhthonios’] birth in this way. Because he was filled with lust for her, Hephaistos wanted to have sex with Athena. But when she turned away—because she preferred her virginity—she hid herself in a certain part of Attica which they say is also named “the Hephaisteion” after him. He thought that he could overpower her but when he attacked he was struck by her spear and ejaculated—his semen fell on the earth. They say that a child was born from it, and that he was named Erikhthonius for that reason…”

λέγει δὲ καὶ Εὐριπίδης περὶ τῆς γενέσεως αὐτοῦ τὸν τρόπον τοῦτον· ῞Ηφαιστον ἐρασθέντα ᾿Αθηνᾶς βούλεσθαι αὐτῇ μιγῆναι, τῆς δὲ ἀποστρεφομένης καὶ τὴν παρθενίαν μᾶλλον αἱρουμένης ἔν τινι τόπῳ τῆς ᾿Αττικῆς κρύπτεσθαι, ὃν λέγουσι καὶ ἀπ’ ἐκείνου προσαγορευθῆναι ῾Ηφαιστεῖον· ὃς δόξας αὐτὴν κρατήσειν καὶ ἐπιθέμενος πληγεὶς ὑπ’ αὐτῆς τῷ δόρατι ἀφῆκε τὴν ἐπιθυμίαν, φερομένης εἰς τὴν γῆν τῆς σπορᾶς· ἐξ ἧς γεγενῆσθαι λέγουσι παῖδα, ὃς ἐκ τούτου ᾿Εριχθόνιος ἐκλήθη…

The name Erikhthonios had folk etymologies in the ancient world based on the narratives surrounding him and the sound. One interpretation, “rich-earth” (eri-khthonios), points to his autochthonous character and his association with Athenian prosperity. Another (“strife-land”; eris-khthonios) draws possibly on the struggle between Poseidon-Erekhtheus and Athena. A third traces the root of the first half to “wool” (erion) perhaps reflecting Athena’s association with weaving and occurring as a reflex in the version of the tale where Athena uses wool to wipe off Hephaistos’ premature ejaculation (Apollodorus records that it was this semen-sponge that impregnated Gaia).

Here’s what a Byzantine Etymological Dictionary has to say:

Etymologicum Magnum

“Erekhteus: He is called Epikhthonios because he was engendered [espasthai] in lust; Or from Hephaistos desire [orekseôs], or from “breaking” [ereikô], Erekhtheus’ power; from the fact that he brought apart the earth and was born from Hephaistos’ semen when Athena hid it in the earth, he is also called Erikhthonios.”

᾿Ερεχθεύς: ῾Ο ᾿Επιχθόνιος καλούμενος, ἀπὸ τοῦ ἐσπᾶσθαι εἰς τὴν ἔραν· ἢ ἀπὸ τῆς ὀρέξεως τοῦ ῾Ηφαίστου· ἢ παρὰ τὸ ἐρείκω, ᾿Ερεχθεὺς κύριον· παρὰ τὸ διασχίσαι αὐτὸν τὴν γῆν καὶ γεννηθῆναι ἀπὸ τοῦ σπέρματος ῾Ηφαίστου, ἡνίκα ἔκρυψεν αὐτὸ ἡ ᾿Αθηνᾶ ἐν τῇ γῇ, ὁ αὐτὸς δὲ λέγεται καὶ ᾿Εριχθόνιος.

According to Homer (Il. 2.546-51) Erekhtheus, nearly identical to Erikhthonios in early narratives only to be disambiguated in royal genealogies by the classical period, was born from Gaia and raised by Athena. The name Erekhtheus may be derived from the verb erekhthô which means “to tear or smash” and may be associated with Poseidon the “earthshaker”.

Iliad 2.546-551:

“Then came the men who occupied the well-built city of Athens, the people of great-hearted Erekhtheus, whom Athena the daughter of Zeus raised after the fertile earth gave birth to him, the one Athena brought into her own wealthy temple. There the sons of Athens worship him every new year with bulls and lambs. Menestheus, the son of Peteos led them. No earth-born man ever was his equal at marshaling the cavalry and spear-holding men.”

Οἳ δ’ ἄρ’ ᾿Αθήνας εἶχον ἐϋκτίμενον πτολίεθρον
δῆμον ᾿Ερεχθῆος μεγαλήτορος, ὅν ποτ’ ᾿Αθήνη
θρέψε Διὸς θυγάτηρ, τέκε δὲ ζείδωρος ἄρουρα,
κὰδ δ’ ἐν ᾿Αθήνῃς εἷσεν ἑῷ ἐν πίονι νηῷ·
ἔνθα δέ μιν ταύροισι καὶ ἀρνειοῖς ἱλάονται
κοῦροι ᾿Αθηναίων περιτελλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν·
τῶν αὖθ’ ἡγεμόνευ’ υἱὸς Πετεῶο Μενεσθεύς.
τῷ δ’ οὔ πώ τις ὁμοῖος ἐπιχθόνιος γένετ’ ἀνὴρ
κοσμῆσαι ἵππους τε καὶ ἀνέρας ἀσπιδιώτας·

There are some interesting echoes here from stories we learn later about Erikhthonios. Note (1) the closeness between Athena and Erekhtheus (implying no strife or suppressing it); (2) the early evidence for co-worship of the two; and (3) the possible—though not probable—echo of Erikhthonios in the adjective epikhthonios (“earth-born”).

Of some interest: According to Pausanias (1.28.10) it was Erekhtheus (the king) who first offered animal sacrifices at the Bouphonia (“Cow-slaughter” festival). In his commentary on the Iliad G. S. Kirk (1985, 206) suggests that the annual festival (περιτελλομένων ἐνιαυτῶν, here translated rather feebly as “every new year”) may be a form of the Panathenaia.

Sources:

OCD³

Walter Burkert. Greek Religion. Cambridge, 1985.

L. R. Farnell. The Cults of the Greek City States. 1895.

Timothy Gantz. Early Greek Myth. Baltimore, 1993.

Simon Price. Religions of the Ancient Greeks. Cambridge, 1999.

Erikhthonios and Erekhtheus: Folk-Etymology and Premature Ejaculation

March 11, 2016March 11, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 1 Comment

Eratosthenes, Catasterismi 1.13

Here’s what a Byzantine Etymological Dictionary has to say:

Etymologicum Magnum

Iliad 2.546-551:

Sources:

OCD³

Walter Burkert. Greek Religion. Cambridge, 1985.

L. R. Farnell. The Cults of the Greek City States. 1895.

Timothy Gantz. Early Greek Myth. Baltimore, 1993.

Simon Price. Religions of the Ancient Greeks. Cambridge, 1999.

A Ridiculous Etymology for ‘Dithyramb’?

March 9, 2016March 9, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 9 Comments

While spending my early morning hours in the too-often ignored world of Byzantine Greek scholarship, I encountered a striking etymology for dithyramb in the introduction to the Scholia to Lycophron’s Alexandra [attributed either to John Tzetzes or his son Isaac].

Scholia to Lykophron’s Alexandra, Introduction

“In addition to these, here are the characteristics of prominent poets, the lyric ones who sing their songs to a lyre and who may have a chorus of fifty men set up in a circle, those who also used to take a bull as a prize. These features are shared with the dithyrambic poets. The dithyrambic poets are in the habit of composing their fine hymns do Dionysus and they used to take tripods [as gifts?]. These poems are called dithyramboi thanks to the “two exit doors” of Dionysus, Semele’s stomach and Zeus’ thigh. “

καὶ ταῦτα μὲν τὰ γνωρίσματα τῶν καλουμένων κατ’ ἐξοχὴν ποιητῶν, λυρικῶν δὲ γνωρίσματα τὸ πρὸς λύραν τὰ τούτων ἄδεσθαι μέλη καὶ χορὸς ἑστὼς κυκλικῶς ἄνδρας ἔχων πεντήκοντα, οἵπερ καὶ δῶρον ταῦρον ἐλάμβανον.

καὶ διθυραμβικοῖς δὲ τοῦτο κοινόν. οἱ διθυραμβικοὶ δὲ τῶν λυρικῶν εἶχόν τι πλέον τὸ πρὸς τὸν Διόνυσον πολυστρόφους πλέκειν τοὺς ὕμνους καὶ τρίποδας ἐλάμβανον διὸ καὶ διθύραμβοι ἀπὸ τοῦ Διονύσου ἐλέγοντο τοῦ διὰ δύο θυρῶν βάντος, τῆς τε γαστρὸς τῆς Σεμέλης καὶ τοῦ μηροῦ τοῦ Διός.

If you didn’t get the joke, it is because di-thura-ba- [here, duo-thuron-bantos; “two-doors-walking”] presents the essential sounds of dithyramb. Byzantine etymological text repeats the origin and explains it a bit, not without adding another on its own.

Etymologicum Magnum, s.v. dithyrambos

“Dithyrambos: Dionysus. It is an epithet of Dionysus because he was raised in a cave with two doors in Nussê. This is also the hymn named for the god and dedicated to him. It comes from “coming through two doors”, the womb of his mother Semele and Zeus’ thigh—since he was born twice: once from his mother, and once from Zeus’ thigh. This is how he exited the ‘door’ twice.”

Διθύραμβος: ῾Ο Διόνυσος. ᾿Επίθετόν ἐστι τοῦ Διονύσου, ὅτι ἐν διθύρῳ ἄντρῳ τῆς Νύσσης ἐτράφη· καὶ ὁμωνύμως τῷ θεῷ ὁ εἰς αὐτὸν ὕμνος. ῍Η ἀπὸ τοῦ δύο θύρας βαίνειν, τήν τε κοιλίαν τῆς μητρὸς Σεμέλης, καὶ τὸν μηρὸν τοῦ Διός· ἀπὸ τοῦ δεύτερον τετέχθαι, ἀπό τε τῆς μητρὸς, καὶ ἀπὸ τοῦ μηροῦ τοῦ Διός· ἵν’ ᾖ ὁ δὶς θύραζε βεβηκώς.

Dionysusbirth — Birth 2/2. The first was from Semele…

Tawdry Tuesday: Two From the Greek Anthology

February 16, 2016February 16, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 3 Comments

The fifth book of the Greek Anthology is filled with ‘Erotic’ poems. Most are tame; some are funny; and a few are just dreadful. Today, a few using a fine Greek verb βινεῖν (binein).

5.29 Killaktoros
“Screwing is sweet: who claims otherwise? But when it costs
Money, it is bitterer than hellebore.”

῾Αδὺ τὸ βινεῖν ἐστι. τίς οὐ λέγει; ἀλλ’ ὅταν αἰτῇ
χαλκόν, πικρότερον γίνεται ἐλλεβόρου.

5.126 Philodemus

“He gives her five talents for one turn
and fucks her while shaking—and, dear god, she isn’t pretty.
I give Lysianassa five drachmas for twelve turns—
I fuck a better woman and do it openly.
Either I am completely insane, or all that remains
is to lop off his twin balls with an axe.”

Πέντε δίδωσιν ἑνὸς τῇ δεῖνα ὁ δεῖνα τάλαντα,
καὶ βινεῖ φρίσσων καί, μὰ τόν, οὐδὲ καλήν·
πέντε δ’ ἐγὼ δραχμὰς τῶν δώδεκα Λυσιανάσσῃ,
καὶ βινῶ πρὸς τῷ κρείσσονα καὶ φανερῶς.
πάντως ἤτοι ἐγὼ φρένας οὐκ ἔχω, ἢ τό γε λοιπὸν
τοὺς κείνου πελέκει δεῖ διδύμους ἀφελεῖν.

Our gentle readers will probably note the variation in the translation of βινεῖν. It is a rather ancient verb, it appears in a fragment of Archilochus ( fr. 152.2L γυναῖ]κα βινέων[) and, of course, Aristophanes drops some b-bombs from time to time as in the Frogs (740):

“For how isn’t he noble, when he knows only how to drink and screw?”

ΞΑ. Πῶς γὰρ οὐχὶ γεννάδας,
ὅστις γε πίνειν οἶδε καὶ βινεῖν μόνον;

But if no one told you that βινεῖν is the equivalent of “fucking”, you’d have to look at the LSJ (which uses Latin “inire, coire of illicit intercourse.”), or an ancient Lexicographer who cites Solon (Hesychius):

βινεῖν:”In Solon, to have sex by force—to conjugate against custom”

βινεῖν· παρὰ Σόλωνι τὸ βίᾳ μίγνυσθαι. τὸ δὲ κατὰ νόμον ὀπύειν

But my favorite entry comes from the Byzantine Encyclopedia, the Suda.

Suda: “Binein: to have intercourse; or to chirp like a bird. It occurs in epigrams.”

Βινεῖν: τὸ συνουσιάζειν· ἢ τὸ πιπίζειν. ἐν ᾿Επιγράμμασι·

Does anyone want to take a stab at some broader etymologies for the verb?

Homer, Eustathius, and the Force of Alastos (“Unforgettable”)

February 15, 2016February 3, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

When Thetis comes to Zeus in the 24^th book of the Iliad, the father of gods and men seems to empathize with her.

“You have come to Olympus, divine Thetis, though in grief, carrying unforgettable sorrow in your heart. I know this myself.”

ἤλυθες Οὔλυμπον δὲ θεὰ Θέτι κηδομένη περ,
πένθος ἄλαστον ἔχουσα μετὰ φρεσίν· οἶδα καὶ αὐτός· Il. 24.104-105

Eustathius found the use of the adjective alaston here particularly interesting.

Eustathius, Comm ad Il. 4.875

“To have grief unceasing (which is from epalastein, to be troubled) should be translated as “grieving” [as in a funeral], since feeling the affliction of mourning is in these words, grieving. This grief is in fact for Achilles who is still living; Thetis has drawn the dark veil across her face as is appropriate for those mourning over corpses.”

(v. 105) Τὸ δὲ πένθος ἔχειν ἄλαστον, ἐξ οὗ τὸ ἐπαλαστεῖν, ἐφερμηνευτικόν ἐστι τοῦ κήδεσθαι, ἵνα ᾗ ἐν τοῖς ῥηθεῖσι κήδεσθαι τὸ πενθικῶς βλάπτεσθαι. (v. 93 s.) ῞Οτι διὰ πένθος τὸ ἐπὶ ᾿Αχιλλεῖ, καὶ ταῦτα ζῶντι ἔτι, κάλυμμα ἡ Θέτις ἕλε κυάνεον, ὡς εἰκὸς τοὺς ἐπὶ νεκροῖς παθαινομένους. «τοῦ δ’ οὔ τι μελάντερον ἔπλετο ἔσθος».

In an earlier passage, Eustathius acknowledges that this adjective may have a broader semantic field:

Eustath. Comm ad Il II 4.613

“Look how wise and fitting it is that Achilles calls Hecktor alastos, because he is grieving unceasingly. For as he hurries to this task he does not take pleasure in the insult. Not only does the word alastôr (“avenger; sinner”) derive from alastos, but it also provides alastein (ἀλαστεῖν; “to be angry”) and the compound epalastein (ἐπαλαστεῖν; “to be troubled”) which appears in the Odyssey.

῞Ορα δὲ, ὡς ἠρκέσθη νῦν σωφρόνως ὁ ᾿Αχιλλεὺς ἄλαστον εἰπεῖν τὸν ῞Εκτορα, ὡς ἀλάθητα λυπήσαντα. σπεύδων γὰρ εἰς ἔργον ὕβρεσιν οὐκ ἐνευκαιρεῖ. ἐκ δὲ τοῦ ἄλαστος οὐ μόνον ὁ ἀλάστωρ παράγεται, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ ἀλαστεῖν καὶ συνθέτως δὲ ἐπαλαστεῖν, ὅπερ ἐν ᾿Οδυσσείᾳ κεῖται.

The etymology of the adjective might look like this:

ἄλαστος: alastos, likely from the root *lath-, “escape memory”; cf. Gk. λανθάνω (“escape notice”); ἀληθής (“true”); λήθη (“forgetfulness”). It is also realted to ἀλάστωρ (alástôr, “avenger”) as “one who does not forget”. Ancient folk etymologies also relate it falsely to alaomai (“to wander”) and some modern scholars have suggested a visual root (e.g. laô). See Chaintraine s.v. ἀλάστωρ..

Post-epic, the adjective more often means “cursed” (cf. Soph. Oed. 1483: ἄλαστον ἄνδρ’) and the root is productive in verbs like alastein (ἀλαστεῖν; “to be angry”) and the compound epalastein (ἐπαλαστεῖν; “to be troubled”).

Twitter May Have Found us a New Etymology for Kerberos…

February 11, 2016February 11, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 7 Comments

Earlier this week I posted some questions about the etymology of Kerberos. After some hours of silence, the issue started getting tossed about on twitter by some great people. And, I think, the conversation not only offered some great new suggestions, but it may have generated something new. The punchline is that we have two new suggestions.

One, suggests that it may be a borrowing from Asia Minor, related to Proto-turkic kara-boru (“black-wolfhound”); the other posits a Phoenician root *klb-‘rz (“hound of the earth”). I could describe how we got there, but I would rather just post all the tweets here. Note, the kind conversation, the collaboration, and the wordplay!

(In my humble opinion, this is twitter at its best).

Thanks to the stalwart correspondents who made this possible!

ICYMI: Etymologies for Kerberos https://t.co/yKoWPPZJ0i

— sententiae antiquae (@sentantiq) February 9, 2016

http://twitter.com/BhriguTheBard/status/697179265197068288

@BhriguTheBard @sentantiq so 9-8th cent – well within the Phoenician orbit. I am tempted to guess Phoenician klb-'rz 'hound of the earth'

— Armand D'Angour (@ArmandDAngour) February 9, 2016

@BhriguTheBard @sentantiq what are the earliest attestations? Mycenean?

— Armand D'Angour (@ArmandDAngour) February 9, 2016

@sentantiq @BhriguTheBard @PIELexicon Bingo! Proto-Turkic kara-boru 'black wolfhound'

— Armand D'Angour (@ArmandDAngour) February 9, 2016

@ArmandDAngour @sentantiq @BhriguTheBard The underlying semantical field there was not "Spotty the dog" but darkness and night, I feel.

— Proto-Indo-European Lexicon (@PIELexicon) February 9, 2016

Continue reading “Twitter May Have Found us a New Etymology for Kerberos…” →

The Meaning and Etymology of the “Humanities”

February 10, 2016February 10, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

From Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights Book 13

17. That humanitas does not mean that which the common people believe it does but those who speak more properly use this word with a different meaning.

“Those who have spoken Latin and have used it correctly do not give the word humanitas the meaning which it commonly acquires, one equivalent to Greek philanthropia, indicating a certain kindly disposition and well-wishing toward all men indiscriminately. No, in correct use, humanitas means what the Greeks call paideia, what we have called education and training in the noble arts—these are the arts through which, when men learn them, they become most humanized. For the pursuit of this knowledge and the discipline derived from it has been given alone to mankind of all the animals—this is what it is called humanitas.

This is the way in which older writers use the word and among them especially Marcus Varro and Marcus Tullius, as nearly all the books show. I therefore consider it enough to offer a single example. So, I quote hear the words from Varro’s first book of Human Antiquities, whose beginning goes like this: “Praxiteles, who thanks to his unparalleled artwork, is famous to anyone who has a little bit of liberal learning [humaniori].” Varro, here, does not use humaniori in a colloquial sense, as “easy-going, kind, or friendly, without knowledge of letters”—this meaning does not at all match his statement. What he means with it is a “man of some learning and training” who would know who Praxiteles was from books and spoken accounts.”

XVII. “Humanitatem” non significare id, quod volgus putat, sed eo vocabulo, qui sinceriter locuti sunt, magis proprie esse usos.

Qui verba Latina fecerunt quique his probe usi sunt, “humanitatem” non id esse voluerunt, quod volgus existimat quodque a Graecis philanthropia dicitur et significat dexteritatem quandam benivolentiamque erga omnis homines promiscam, sed “humanitatem” appellaverunt id propemodum, quod Graeci paideian vocant, nos eruditionem institutionemque in bonas artis dicimus. Quas qui sinceriter cupiunt adpetuntque, hi sunt vel maxime humanissimi. Huius enim scientiae cura et disciplina ex universis animantibus uni homini datast idcircoque “humanitas” appellata est.

Sic igitur eo verbo veteres esse usos et cumprimis M. Varronem Marcumque Tullium omnes ferme libri declarant. Quamobrem satis habui unum interim exemplum promere. III. Itaque verba posui Varronis e libro rerum humanarum primo, cuius principium hoc est: “Praxiteles, qui propter artificium egregium nemini est paulum modo humaniori ignotus”. IV. “Humaniori” inquit non ita, ut vulgo dicitur, facili et tractabili et benivolo, tametsi rudis litterarum sit – hoc enim cum sententia nequaquam convenit -, sed eruditiori doctiorique, qui Praxitelem, quid fuerit, et ex libris et ex historia cognoverit.

Etymologies for Kerberos

February 8, 2016February 8, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 1 Comment

Kerberos

If you do a little searching on the internet you might find the assertion that the Greek word Kerberos is cognate with Sanskrit karbarah, sabalah “spotted, speckled;” and, therefore, that it is related to our pet name “Spot”. This is a nice story, but like many nice stories, it is probably not true.

Pierre Chantraine lists this as a “doubted for good reasons”. (Here’s a link for a free download of the dictionary). I don’t really have a better suggestion, but I can quote some equally valid nonsense from antiquity.

Etymologicum Gudianum (Byzantine Era)

Kerberos: From “karbaros” which is from having a heavy head. For the dog in Hades had three heads, as the story goes about the dog Kerberos.

Κέρβερος, παρὰ τὸ κάρβαρος, ἢ παρὰ τὸ τὴν κάραν βαρεῖν· τρικέφαλος γὰρ ἦν κύων ἐν ᾅδου, ὡς μυθεύεται κύωνος κέρβερος.

Cf. κάραβος (karabos) “horned beetle”

Also consider from Hesychius the Lexicographer:

Kerberioi: Weak-men. They also call the Kimmerians Kerberians. And some call their city Kerberia, but others call it Kimmeria. Others say that Kimmê is as place in Hades.

κερβέριοι· ἀσθενεῖς. φασὶ δὲ καὶ τοὺς Κιμμερίους Κερβερίους· καὶ τὴν πόλιν οἱ μὲν Κερβερίαν καλοῦσιν, οἱ δὲ Κιμμερίην· ἄλλοι δὲ †Κιμμη. ἔστι δὲ τόπος ἐν ᾅδου (λ 14).

I eagerly await other (and better) suggestions!

Semantic Change and the Challenges of Linguistics: Varro, On the Latin Language, V.2-3

February 8, 2016February 8, 2016 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ Leave a comment

Varro, On the Latin Language, V 2-3

“…The first part, where we consider why and from where words develop, The Greeks call etymology; the second part is semantics. I will speak of these two categories in the following books together but more sparingly of the second.

These things are often rather obscure because every word that has been used does not still exist; the charge of time has made some forgotten. Moreover, every word that still exists, since it may be subject to misuse (applied incorrectly, for example) may not be wholly the same (since many words are altered by changes in spelling). And not every word has its origin from roots based in our own language. Many words indicate a different thing now from what they used to mean: for example, hostis (“enemy”). For, people who used this word in the past meant a foreigner who followed his own native laws; now when they use it they mean what used to be called perduellem(“enemy”).”

priorem illam partem, ubi cur et unde sint verba scrutantur, Graeci vocant etymologian, illam alteram peri semainomenon. De quibus duabus rebus in his libris promiscue dicam, sed exilius de posteriore.

Quae ideo sunt obscuriora, quod neque omnis impositio verborum exstat, quod vetustas quasdam delevit, nec quae exstat sine mendo omnis imposita, nec quae recte est imposita, cuncta manet (multa enim verba litteris commutatis sunt interpolata), neque omnis origo est nostrae linguae e vernaculis verbis, et multa verba aliud nunc ostendunt, aliud ante significabant, ut hostis: nam tum eo verbo dicebant peregrinum qui suis legibus uteretur, nunc dicunt eum quem tum dicebant perduellem.

“Pas d’etymologie”: Ancient Traditions on the Lexical Roots of Erinys and Eris

November 3, 2015November 2, 2015 ~ sententiaeantiquae ~ 7 Comments

On the discussion board for the course HeroesX, someone asked about the etymology of the word Erinys (Fury). I had never really thought about this before, so I started to look into it. The inquirer started by citing some decent etymological texts:

“For Ἐρινύες, Chantraine says there isn’t etymology (DEG p. 371 s. v. ἐρινύς); but A. Carnoy (Dictionnaire étymologique de la mythologie gréco-romaine, Louvain 1957) links the word to ἐρινύειν, arcadic form of ὀρίνω, to stir, raise; so Ἐρινύες should mean “the Furious”.”

I looked more deeply and found nothing really that satisfying. But, since I enjoy a false etymology as much as anyone, I decided to share some findings here. The Etymologicum Magnum, a text created in the 12^th century in Byzantium, has some interesting things to say about the etymology of Erinys.

“Furies, vengeful goddesses of paternal transgressions. They pursue the children of those who have committed wrong. The name comes from the fact that they live in the earth [era, reconstructed from the form ἔραζε], which means they live in the earth.

Or, something that comes from the earth is called eranus, which becomes erinus. For the Fury is a khthonic goddess.

The name is also said to come from “completing curses” as if aranus (curse-bringer?) also becomes erinus, since she brings curses or fateful things to pass. Another explanation is that the particle eri [inseparable elsewhere as an intensifier] is added to “completing” [to anuein], since she “accomplishes greatly”.

Another explanation is that the name comes from “resting” [to elinuein], which means to be at peace, and that erinus forms from elinus, for the “one who is at peace”. This is a construction based on an opposite idea, since she is not one who is actually at peace.”

᾿Ερινύες: Θεαὶ τιμωροὶ τῶν πατρικῶν ἀσεβημάτων, ἤγουν τῶν εἰς τοὺς γονεῖς ἁμαρτημάτων· παρὰ τὸ ἐν τῇ ἔρᾳ ναίειν, ὅ ἐστιν οἰκεῖν ἐν τῇ γῇ.

῍Η ἡ ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἀνερχομένη, ἐρανὺς, καὶ ἐρινύς· καταχθονία γὰρ ἡ δαίμων. ῍Η παρὰ τὸ τὰς ἀρὰς ἀνύειν, οἱονεὶ ἀρανύς τις οὖσα καὶ ἐρινὺς, ἡ τὰς ἀρὰς ἢ τὰ αἴσια ἀνύουσα καὶ ἐκτελοῦσα. ῍Η παρὰ τὸ ἐρι καὶ τὸ ἀνύειν, ἡ μεγάλως ἀνύουσα. ῍Η παρὰ τὸ ἐλινύειν, τὸ ἡσυχάζειν, γέγονεν ἐλινὺς καὶ ἐρινὺς, ἡ ἡσυχάζουσα, κατὰ ἀντίφρασιν, τουτέστιν ἡ μὴ ἡσυχάζουσα.

I love the fact that there is an entire category for etymologies that come from the opposite of what something really is.
I also love the fact that this text just throws everything out there.
I had always tacitly assumed some connection with Eris, especially since in Hesiod (Works and Days and Theogony), Eris is associated with the earth. The Etymologicum Gudianum (and others) associated Eris with the act of speech: “Eris comes from “speaking” [eirô], which is the same as legô; this is a type of conflict that comes from words…

῎Ερις· παρὰ τὸ εἴρω, τὸ λέγω· ἡ διὰ λόγων φιλονεικία.

On Eris, Chantraine is similarly unhelpful, writing “Pas d’etymologie”…, although he points to ἐρέθω as a possible origin.

Any other ideas?

PS: Chantraine is available online! I cannot tell you how many car-trips, subway journeys, and other odysseys I have made in the past to consult this text. Do the young know what charmed lives they are living?