In the case of cheese, I've had a long-running discussion with French extended family regarding exactly what the words refer to. Norwegian 'cheese' = 'ost', and we refer to the brown cheese produced by boiling and solidifying the left-over whey fluid from cheese production as 'brunost'; 'brown cheese'. This product is important in cultures where food security and calories are held at a premium.
My French relatives however, insist that this is not real cheese, as it is not fermented. But the Norwegian language has no such distinction -- the 'brunost' is an instance of 'mysost'; 'cheese produced from whey'. This is no less real cheese than the one you ferment from caseine.
This naturally led me down a rabbit hole of etymological investigation.
The best conclusion I've reached so far, is that the Germanic words stemming from 'kase', referring to caseine, naturally refer to cheeses that would mostly be fermented, as this is what happens with the solid caseine when you leave it around for a bit. Whereas Norwegian 'ost', stemming from 'yste', the verb for separating the caseine from the whey, makes no such distinction.
And ironically, the Latin-stemming words 'fromage', 'formagio', stem from Latin 'formicum'; something that is cast in a form. Having nothing at all to do with fermentation or even milk!
There are two conclusions here, one being that the dictionary translation of words does not capture somewhat-subtle but sometimes important distinctions between words.
The second conclusion is that my French relatives are wrong and brown cheese is in fact fromage. But not cheese, I will concede as much.
> the Germanic words stemming from 'kase', referring to caseine
Casein was not discovered before cheese was. 'kase' doesn't refer to casein. Casein, the family of proteins, is named after cheese, the milk product consisting in large part of those proteins.
And 'kase' is not a Germanic root. Fromage descends from the Latin word for "shape". 'kase' descends from the Latin word for "cheese".
> There are two conclusions here, one being that the dictionary translation of words does not capture somewhat-subtle but sometimes important distinctions between words.
This isn't right either. Tin soldiers must be cast, but they are obviously not cheese, and therefore they are also not fromage. The etymology of the word tells you nothing about its meaning.
(The conclusion is fine, but drawing it from this evidence is not -- if you translate French fromage as "cheese", you're not missing any subtle distinctions. It means cheese.)
Do you have references for the last of your claims? I thought I did a reasonably exhaustive search for a layperson, but the sources I found could certainly be wrong. My hobby searches in this area have led me to conclude that etymology isn't a hard science, and ultimately one will arrive at someone's qualified opinion about something.
The relation between 'kase' and casein is very fair; cheese production obviously predates protein chemistry. I guess what I was trying to say was that the words are related, but if 'kase' derives from Latin for 'cheese', the rabbit hole continues. Why does the French word derive from shape, if the Romans already had a word for cheese? And what did their definition of cheese include?
> Why does the French word derive from shape, if the Romans already had a word for cheese?
This is not a question that it's possible to answer. Languages change.
Why is the modern English term dog, a word of no known origin, instead of the native (still extant, but not really alive) term hound?
> Do you have references for the last of your claims? I thought I did a reasonably exhaustive search for a layperson, but the sources I found could certainly be wrong.
Assuming you're referring to the claim that the English word "cheese" (and the similar terms in other Germanic languages) is derived from an ancient borrowing of the Latin word caseus, meaning "cheese", I was not able to find any source that didn't confirm it. Wiktionary will tell you this. etymonline will tell you this. The OED will also tell you this:
> the dictionary translation of words does not capture somewhat-subtle but sometimes important distinctions between words
Good point. I have yet to see a dictionary that also provides delineation with similar-but-different words and describes the differences.
That'd be very useful for language learners, as colloquial use often eschews definition in favor of socially common convention. I.e. "That word does mean that, but you would never use it in that way"
Yes, and figuring out the differences is sometimes a challenge for English-as-second-language people. Finnish uses one word for both foot and leg, and if you want to say foot you say "leg table" (the horizontal part of the leg). Similar with hand/arm. In the other direction, Finnish has separate words for the front and back of your neck (and I don't mean just throat).
If I kick my foot on a rock, I may say something out loud about hurting my leg. That doesn't sound right to native speaker.
I'm not certain that this is exactly what you're talking about, but one of my dictionaries (Webster's New International, 1916) includes this under the entry for Authentic, which brings me great joy:
Authentic, Genuine. The prevailing sense of authentic is authoritative, trustworthy, with the implication of accordance with fact; as "confirmed both by legend and authentic record" (Froude); "assurances more or less authentic" (Wordsworth); an authentic portrait. The prevailing sense of Genuine is native, real, true (see Real), often with the implication of descent from, or correspondence to, an original source or stock; as, a genuine merino, genuine piety; "true simplicity and genuine pathos" (Wordsworth); cf (colloq.) "the genuine article" with "the real thing." Both terms are used - genuine more frequently than authentic - as opposed to spurious, counterfeit, apocryphal; as "Let them contrast their own fantastical personages ... with the authentic rustics of Burns" (Jeffrey); "What is genuine knowledge and what is its counterfeit" (J.H. Newman). The 18th century distinction between the two terms, as applied to documents - "A genuine book is that which was written by the person whose name it bears as the author of it; an authentic book is that which relates matters of fact as they really happened" (Bp. Watson) - while still often observed, is becoming obliterated in present usage; as "The criticism which thus so freely diminishes the numer of his [Giorgione's] authentic works" (W. Pater); "Some collectors frankly take the ground that they buy what pleases them, and that age and authenticity are minor considerations" (The Nation). See Real, Correct.
Webster's first dictionary was a one-man project and took 26 years. He learned 28 languages in order to research the etymologies. This New International is my favorite of the handful I own. I learned about it from https://jsomers.net/blog/dictionary, which I learned about here, on HN. I just re-submitted it: https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=35635876
Here's one more entry, on synonyms of Intention:
Intention, Intent, Purpose, Design, Aim, Object, End are here compared in their general senses; for technical definitions, see defs. Intention, which often suggests little more than what one means or proposes to do, implies less settled determination than Purpose, less definite plan or prearrangment than Design, which frequently adds the implication of crafty or artful scheming; as "She had not had an intention or a thought of going home, until she had announced it to him as a settled design" (Dickens); his intentions are good; cf. to declare one's intentions; "My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars, until I die" (Tennyson); "I go amongst the buildings of a city and I see a man hurrying along - to what? The creature has a purpose and his eyes are bright with it" (Keats); "envious commands, invented design to keep them low" (Milton); "Should he find me here, [he] would discover my name, and perhaps my designs, to the rest of the family" (Goldsmith); cf. "designing lovers" (id.). Intent is chiefly legal or poetical; as, intent to deceive, kill; "the power of a sublime intent" (Shelley). Aim emphasizes directness of purpose, Object that on which activities are focused, End that towards which they tend as their consequence or final cause; as, "to [his trust] keeps faithful with a singleness of aim" (Wordsworth); "her steadiness and courage in the pursuit of her aims" (J.R. Green); "Yet in the task of luxury of freedom I began to wish for the daily task, the active pursuit, which gave a value to every book, and an object to every inquiry" (Gibbon); the object of education, a man without an object in life; "I see in part that all, as in some piece of art, is toil cooperant to an end" (Tennyson); "Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever" (Westminster Catechism). See Cause, Effect, Plan, Voluntary.
You may also be interested in Garner's Modern American Usage. David Foster Wallace, in reviewing this book for Harper's, wrote "He's both a lawyer and a lexicographer (which seems a bit like being both a narcotics dealer and a DEA agent)".
Wiktionary says fromage comes from Latin for "mould", cheese might come from Proto-Indo European "to ferment, become sour" but this is contested, and ost comes from Proto-Indo European "sap"/"juice"/"broth", seen also in Latin ius="gravy"/"broth"/"soup"/"sauce".
My French relatives however, insist that this is not real cheese, as it is not fermented. But the Norwegian language has no such distinction -- the 'brunost' is an instance of 'mysost'; 'cheese produced from whey'. This is no less real cheese than the one you ferment from caseine.
This naturally led me down a rabbit hole of etymological investigation.
The best conclusion I've reached so far, is that the Germanic words stemming from 'kase', referring to caseine, naturally refer to cheeses that would mostly be fermented, as this is what happens with the solid caseine when you leave it around for a bit. Whereas Norwegian 'ost', stemming from 'yste', the verb for separating the caseine from the whey, makes no such distinction.
And ironically, the Latin-stemming words 'fromage', 'formagio', stem from Latin 'formicum'; something that is cast in a form. Having nothing at all to do with fermentation or even milk!
There are two conclusions here, one being that the dictionary translation of words does not capture somewhat-subtle but sometimes important distinctions between words.
The second conclusion is that my French relatives are wrong and brown cheese is in fact fromage. But not cheese, I will concede as much.