What’s in a Text?: Intentional and Affective Fallacies and the Logical Fallacy of Arguments from Silence

Creative Writing, Geography, Literary & Linguistics, Medieval history,, Performing arts, Regional History, Social History, Society & Culture, Travel, Visual Arts, World history,

Exegesis: Relegating the author In literary and artistic aesthetics the intentional fallacy occurs when readers or viewers use factors outside the text or visual work (such as biographical information) to evaluate its merits, rather than ignoring these “external” factors and relying solely on the textual or visual evidence of the novel, play, poem, painting, etc. to assess the work in question (what’s actually in the text and nothing outside). This key precept of the New Criticism school declares that a poem (or other work of art) does not belong to its author, it is (as stated by the term’s originators WK Wimsatt and MC Beardsley) “detached from the author at birth and goes about the world beyond his power to intend about it or control it”1⃞. Authorial intention is a non-consideration in the assessment of the work. The text or work has an objective status and its meaning belongs solely to the reading or viewing public. The reader’s task in literature, advocates of New Criticism assert, is to eschew subjective or personal aspects such as the lives and psychology of authors and literary history and focus entirely on close reading and explication of the text (A Glossary of Literary Terms (4th edition, 1981), edited by M.H. Abrams).

The intentional fallacy, elaborated in Wimsatt’s 1954 The Verbal Icon

The intentional fallacy doctrine has a corollary in the affective fallacy which adheres to the same principles. Wimsatt and Beardsley affirmed that evaluating a poem by its effects—especially its emotional effects—upon the reader, is an erroneous way of approaching the task. Giving rein to the emotions a work of art evokes in you, negates an appreciation of “the (work’s) inherent qualities and craftsmanship” that an objective analysis permits (Prince Kumar, ‘Understand Affective Fallacy from Example’, LitforIndia, 23-Dec-2023, www.litforindia.com).

(source: cornerstoneduluth.org)

Semantic autonomy, Intentionalism, Anti-intentionalism: The intentional and affective fallacies as prescriptive “rules” of hermeneutics held sway from the 1940s to the 1970s, however this is not to say that there was no pushback from scholarly dissenters. Proponents (primarily American) of what is called “Reader-response theory” reject the claims of New Criticism of this prescribed mode of interpreting and critiquing a work of literature. Some of these objected to the fallacy’s nothing outside the text rigidity for constricting exploration of all possibilities of a work’s meanings. Critic Norman Holland frames it in a psychoanalytical context, the reader, he affirms, will react to a literary text with the same psychological responses he or she brings to events in their daily lives, ie, “the immediate goal of interpretation is to fulfil (one’s) psychological needs and desires” (‘Psychological Reader-response Theory’, Nasrullah Mambrol, Literary Theory and Criticism (2016), www.literariness.org). Theorist ED Hirsch in his “Objective Interpretation” essay also took issue with the expositors of the intentional fallacy thesis, arguing that on the contrary authorial intent (intentionalism) was integral to a full understanding of the work…the only meaning that is permanent and valid is that of the author in question, the reader should confine him or herself to interpreting what the author is trying to say (E.D. Hirsch, Jr, Validity in Interpretation, 1967) .

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A quite different kind of fallacious argument is the argument from silence (Latin: argumentum ex silentio). This arises when a conclusion or inference is drawn based on an absence of statements in historical documents and source materials…the argument seeks not to challenge or rebut specific things an author includes in a book or document, but is critical of the author for something they should have said but didn’t! The most common instances of the argument from silence in practice relate to biblical debates and controversies, but a contemporary classic example of a non-theological, historical nature, one generating considerable heated discourse, concerns the 13th century merchant and explorer Marco Polo and the famous book of his travels in the East.

Medieval Venezia at the time of Marco Polo (source: Bodleian Library, Oxford)

Medieval world travelogue guru?: Known by various names including Description of the World (Divisament du monde), Book of the Marvels of the World, Il libro di Marco Polo detto il Milione, The Book of Ser Marco Polo, the Venetian, or simply The Travels of Marco Polo, the book is one of the most celebrated tomes in the annals of literature dealing with the experiences of travellers to distant and unknown lands. The story, told and retold in numerous languages over centuries, presents Marco and his father Niccolò and uncle Maffeo embarking on an epic road trip along the Silk Road to the court of the Great Khan in Khanbaliq (Beijing). The book recounts Marco’s travels in Cathay (North China) and Manji (South China), among other Eastern lands. The consensus among most historians is that Signor Polo, despite a tendency to exaggerate and embellish the tales of his travels2⃞, did nonetheless journey to China as he claimed in the book. The publication of Did Marco Polo Go to China? by Frances Wood in 1995 controversially swam against this tide. Wood infers serious doubts about Polo’s achievements, suggesting that despite his being away from his native Italy for the best part of a quarter-of-a-century, he never reached his intended destination China. According to Wood, he got only as far as Constantinople and the Black Sea where he accumulated all of his information on Chinese society and other Asian lands (his source material for the “Travels”) from picking the brains of visiting Persian merchants.

A page from the Polo travelogue

Doubting “Marco’s millions”: What made Wood so convinced that Marco Polo never visited China? Firstly, there is the book’s puzzling itinerary, it proceeds in a disjointed, incoherent fashion, is not uniformly chronological, has some odd detours and gets some geographical place names in China wrong. Then, while acknowledging The Travels of Marco Polo contains references to porcelain (from Fujian province), coal, rice-wine, paper currency and other items, Wood hones in on the fact that the Venetian traveller failed to mention certain other quintessentially Chinese things—namely the Great Wall of China, tea, chopsticks, cormorant fishing and the practice of foot-binding—in the pages of his “Travels’. Wood also picks up on Polo’s failure to learn Chinese during his sojourn in the Middle Kingdom. Allied to these omissions was the absence of Polo’s3⃞ name in any official Chinese document of the period, which Wood believed, further incriminated Marco as the perpetrator of a fraud.

A crumbling section of the not-so-great wall in north China built prior to Polo’s time (photo: John Man, The Great Wall)

Wood herself is perpetrating a pattern of reasoning which is problematic by recourse to an argument from silence. As Sven Bernecker and Duncan Pritchard in The Routledge Companion to Epistemology (2010) (ISBN0-415-96219-6Routledge pp. 64–65) note, “arguments from silence are, as a rule, quite weak; there are many examples where reasoning from silence would lead us astray.” Academic critics have been quick to pinpoint the shortcomings and misconceptions in Wood’s argument. There are, they counter, manifestly valid reasons why Polo would not refer to the Great Wall, for one, it was largely not there in the period of his residency in China! The impressive edifice of the Great Wall as we think of it was primarily a product of the Ming Dynasty (from 1368, three-quarters of a century after the Polos’ stay)…what there was of the not-so-Great Wall prior to that was a much more modest, unprepossessing sight (“a discontinuous series of derelict, pounded earth ramparts”) (‘F. Wood’s Did Marco Polo Go To China?’, A Critical Appraisal byI. de Rachewiltz, http://openresearch–repository.anu.edu.au). With the matter of the Chinese penchant for tea-drinking, perhaps Polo didn’t think the topic simply sufficiently noteworthy to rate a mention4⃞. The question of the omission of foot-binding, chopsticks and Polo’s linguistic ignorance of Chinese in the travelogue can all be accounted for. China and the royal court was under Mongol control (Yuan Dynasty) in Marco’s time, accordingly Polo moved in those circles, tending not to mix with the (Han) Chinese population. and so lacked the motivation (or opportunity) to learn Chinese. Likewise, he wouldn’t have encountered many upper class Chinese women in their homes, this was the strata of society that practiced female foot-binding, not the Mongols. Again, with chopsticks, not a utensil of choice for the Mongols who Polo tended to fraternise with (Morgan, D. O. (1996). Marco Polo in China-Or Not [Review of Did Marco Polo Go to China?, by F. Wood]. Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society6(2), 221–225. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25183182). As for “the Travels’” silence on fishing with cormorants, the activity was not a widespread phenomena in China during the Yuan era, confined to the remoter areas of Sichuan Province (‘Cormorant Fishing in China’, Sally Guo, China Travel (Upd. 04-April-2021), www.chinatravel.com).

MP (source: caamadi.com/de/marco-polo-in-venice)

Filtered Marco Polo – Rustichello et al: And there’s another line of thought when considerating the book’s glaring omissions, inconsistencies and inaccuracies that Frances Wood doesn’t seem to have factored into her thesis…The Travels of Marco Polo, the published book we read today, is a different beast in form and content to the original article from the late 1290s. In fact the original manuscript which Polo dictated to his amanuensis, an imaginative romance writer Rustichello de Pisa —who had licence to inject his own theatrical flourishes and flavour into Marco’s original story—was lost early on, so “the Travels” have gone on an untraceable and interminable journey through “dozens of translations of translations, none of which are necessarily accurate” (‘The Travels of Marco Polo: The True Story of a 14th-Century Bestseller’, Anna Bressanin, BBC, 09-Jan-2024, www.bbc.com). Of the 54 extant manuscripts (out of around 150 distinct copies in all languages), no two copies are entirely alike with “improvements” and edits made by each copyist and translator. We should also remember that Marco was in prison, relying on his memory to recount a multitude of events and experiences, some of which stretched back over 20 years, hardly surprising then if readers have to contend with the recollections of a not entirely reliable narrator (‘Marco Polo’s book on China omits tea, chopsticks, bound feet’, Peter Neville-Hadley, South China Morning Post, 04-Oct-2020, www.amp.scmp.com).

The Marco Polo saga has spawned a long history of film and television versions with romantic adventure taking precedence over story accuracy

Heavily redacted archives: The issue of Polo’s claim to have been an official in Kublai Khan’s service—and in particular governor of Yangzhou—was seized on by Dr Wood who pointed out that Marco’s name does not appear in any historical official Chinese archives. Rather than being necessarily proof of Marco fabricating a presence in China as Wood assumes, other factors may explain the discrepancy…no other Italian merchants known to have visited medieval China are mentioned in any Chinese sources, even the Papal envoy to the Great Khan’s court, Giovanni de Marignolli, doesn’t rate a mention (‘Marco Polo was not a swindler. He really did go to China’, Science News, 16-Apr-2012, www.sciencedaily.com). Another factor germane to this is the fact that the Ming (Han) Dynasty that succeeded the Mongol-dominated Yuan Dynasty initiated the practice of erasing the records of earlier non-Han officials (Morgan).

(source: LibriVox)

One particularly vocal critic of Did Marco Polo Go To China?, Sinologist Hans Ulrich Vogel from the University of Tübingen, produced a research paper demonstrating that Marco’s descriptions of currency, salt production and revenues from the salt monopoly in China were of a standard of accuracy and uniqueness of detail5⃞, that produces a very high level of proof that Polo had to have been in China, close to the wheels of power, to be privy to such comprehensive knowledge (www.sciencedaily.com).

Chinese salt production (source: Wellcome Images)

The “logical fallacy of weak induction”: Frances Wood’s iconoclastic book was certainly an attention-grabber, both for medieval scholars and Sinologists and for the general public, causing a furore upon its publication in 1995 and spawning several TV documentaries. China and the world of the Great Khan is a central tenet of the Marco Polo story, making it unthinkable to most scholars, almost a sacrilege, to suggest that the legendary Venetian traveller never set foot in the Middle Kingdom! The weight of the counter-argument unleashed against Wood’s thesis throws a spotlight on the hazards of trying to “treat the absence of evidence as evidence itself”, as Steven Lewis summarises the fallacious nature of the argument from silence (‘The Argument from Silence”, Steven Lewis, SES, www.ses.edu).

(image: silk–road.com)

Frances Wood, Did Marco Polo go to China? (1995, Secker & Warburg, London)

1⃞ Wimsatt and Beardsley’s 1946 ‘Intentional Fallacy’ essay to some extent has its antecedents in the earlier debate between CS Lewis and EMW Tillyard, published as The Personal Heresy: A Controversy (1939), in which Lewis argued that an author’s own personality and biography has negligible to zero impact on the literary text, while Tillyard enunciated the contrary position: that an author’s own imagination and story can have an indelible influence on a work of literature

 2⃞   and there had been doubters even in Marco’s time and later about some of his more wilder and fantastic claims, earning him the epithet Il Milione or “the Millions”) (aka “Marchus Paulo Millioni”). Wood’s particular slant on Polo’s book follows the lead of earlier German Mongolists

3⃞ who had claimed to have been an emissary in the emperor’s service

4⃞ Wood herself concedes that Rustichello may have edited out references to tea on the grounds of it being “of no interest to the general public”

5⃞ and corroborated by Chinese documents

Bharat, Türkiye, etc. What’s in a Name?: The Politics of Country Rebranding

Comparative politics, Inter-ethnic relations, International Relations, Literary & Linguistics, National politics, Politics, Regional politics, Society & Culture

In international news of late there’s been speculation by some pundits that the Republic of India might be planning to drop the name “India”—the name the world identifies the South Asian mega-state by—as the official title of the country. The conjecture stems from an apparent signal given by Modi’s government in issuing invitations in the name of the “President of Bharat” to attendees of the September 2023 G-20 summit held in New Delhi.

Why Bharat? Well, Bharat is already the other official name of India, enshrined in the nation’s constitution, with a backstory stretching far back into the Sub-continent’s pre-colonial history. The word comes from ancient Sanskrit—Bhārata (“to bear or to carry”), a shortened form of Bhāratavarsa (first used in the 1st century AD)—as does the name Hindustān, also in currency among Hindi-speaking Indians as another name to describe the country as a whole. Some Hindu nationalists have advocated for the creation of Akhand Bharat (“Greater India”) which would unite India with all of its contiguous neighbours in a South Asian super-state.

Origin of “India”: It derives from the Sanskrit word Sindhu, a name for the Indus River and the lower Indus basin. Etymology: Ancient Greek Indikē, Latin Indía. The name “Hindu”, the predominant Indian religion and dharma, also relates to the Sub-continent’s paramount river, being an Old Persian adaption of “Sindhu”.

Modi of Bharat (photo: Ludovic Marin/AFP/Getty Images)

Modi’s nomenclature move has received endorsement by government officials and followers (no surprise!) who contend that the name “India” as a nation title is “tainted” with its past connotations of colonialism and slavery, echoing the sentiment that “British colonial rulers had coined the name India to overshadow Bharat and forge a British legacy” [‘India’s government has used another name on the world stage. What does ’Bharat’ mean?’ SBS News, 06-Sep-2023, www.sbs.com.au].

If Bharat has already been an official name for India since 1949, why has the Indian government decided to publicise it just now? One answer comes from the political opponents of the BJP who allege that the notion is a diversional tactic by Modi’s party to try to upstage the recent formation of the opposition’s “INDIA” alliance to contest upcoming elections (Rahul Gandhi, Congress Party). This move follows a BJP pattern in power of erasing Indian place names which reflect India’s Mughal (Muslim) and (British) colonial past. Critics accuse the government of “pursuing a nationalist agenda aimed at forming an ethnic Hindu state out of a constitutionally secular India” [‘India’s Modi gov’t replaces country’s name with Bharat in G20 dinner invite’, Aljazeera, 05-Sep-2023, www.aljazeera.com]

source: moroccoworldnewsnews.com

Disassociating with the bird: In 2022 the Republic of Turkey notified the international community that it repudiates the name “Turkey” as a descriptor for it, instead the country should be be referred to officially by all as Türkiye (pronounced “Tur-kee-yay”), the communique stated. The government foreign minister said the use of Türkiye would increase “the country’s brand value”, but reputedly, a reason for the name switch is the president, Recep Erdoğan’s dislike of the association of his country with the Meleagris, a large gallinaceous bird (and by extension with the whole American Thanksgiving thing)…compounding that aversion to the name, is “turkey’s” colloquial meanings, (a person who is) inept or stupid; a movie or play which is a dud.

Another motive of Erdoğan’s could be in play – a political one. The move fits in neatly with his wish to be “rid of a westernised, anglicised name that jarred with his neo-Islamist, nationalist-populist brand” [‘The Observer view on Turkey’s name change’, The Guardian, 05-Jun-2022, www.imp.theguardian.com]. Critics of the Erdoğan regime take an even more scathing view, that “the rebrand is another populist device that Erdoğan is exploiting to divert attention away from the country’s persisting economic woes and to galvanise nationalist voters ahead of (upcoming) crucial elections” ‘ Turkey is now Türkiye: What other countries have changed their name?’, Euronews 28-Jun-2022, wwweuronews.com].

Switching synonyms: While India and Turkey are topical examples of the inclination for nomenclature rebranding, the 20th century is dotted with instances of other such name changes. In 1989 the authoritarian military government in Burma—a country named after the Burmans, the dominant ethnic group—caught the world by surprise by suddenly changing the country’s name to “Myanmar”. The regime explained the switch as jettisoning a name inherited from its colonial past and choosing a new name that would foster ethnic unity by recognising it was a multi-ethnic state. In reality it was “linguistic sleight-of-hand” as in the Burmese language “Myanmar” is merely a more formal version of “Burma”. The Burmese regime, viewed as an international pariah after years of violent repression against its citizens was seeking to rebuild its PR standing, so you only needed to be slightly cynical to see the thinking behind such a cosmetic name change ploy [‘Myanmar, Burma and why the different names matter’, Kim Tong-Hyung & Hyung-Jin Kim, PBS News, 03-Feb-2021, www.pbs.org].

Myanmar, the military’s choice (photo: JPaing/The Irrawaddy)

Czechs of Czechia: The Czech Republic (Česká republika) came into existence in 1993 when Czechoslovakia ceased to be a single political entity (splitting amicably into two countries, the Czech Republic and Slovakia). In 2016 a further name change, or more correctly, name addition, happened, the Czech government introduced a short-form title, “Czechia”, for communication in English, while retaining Česká republika as its full name. Though less controversial than other instances, the term “Czechia” was criticised by some Czechs for being confusingly too close in sound to the name of the internal Russian republic, Chechnya. This was the very reason the Kingdom of Swaziland, a landlocked southern African country, swapped names in 2018, becoming (the Kingdom of) Eswatini. The change occurred by royal fiat…with the stated reason that when Swazi tourists were overseas locals would mistakenly think they were from Switzerland.

”Resplendent” name change: The small island nation of Ceylon left the British Commonwealth and became a republic in 1972…at the same time the government affected a name change to “Sri Lanka“, which combines the honorific Sri meaning “resplendent” and the island’s original name Lanka which simply means “island”. The name “Ceylon”, based on an earlier Portuguese name, had been adopted by the British rulers after they had colonised the island in stages between 1796 and 1817 [‘Sri Lanka erases colonial name, Ceylon’, Charles Haviland, BBC News, 01-Jan-2011, www.bbc.com]. Prior to becoming a British colony the island comprised two entities, a Dutch Ceylan part and the native Sinhalese Kandyan Kingdom.

Regime change ➔ name change: In the case of the small Southeast Asian state of Cambodia the changing of the country’s name, throughout the 1970s and ‘80s, became something of a merry-go-round. In succession it went from (the Kingdom of) Cambodia to the Khmer Republic to Democratic Kampuchea to (the People’s Republic of) Kampuchea to (the State of) Cambodia back to (the Kingdom of) Cambodia, reflecting the state-level instability of ongoing regime changeᑢ.

Cambodia/Kampuchea

Ping-pong nomenclature in Bangkok: Prior to 1939 Thailand was known by the name “Siam”, deriving from a Sanskrit word, syam. In 1939 Prime Minster Phibun changed the kingdom’s name from Prathet Siam to Prathet Thai or Mu’ang Thai (English: “Land of the Thais”). At the end of WWII Phibun having backed the losing Japanese side fell from favour and the succeeding Thai regime changed the name back to Siam to distinguish itself from the previous regime associated with the fascist Japanese invaders. In 1948 however Phibun returned to power and reinstated the name Thailand, which the country has retained to the present [‘Thai or Siam?’ P Juntanamalaga, (1988), Names: A Journal of Onomastics, www.ans-names.pitt.edu].

Siam/Thailand

Footnote: Endonyms and exonyms When Turkish president Ergodan objected to the continued use of the name “Turkey” by outsiders to describe his country, he was in fact rejecting the convention of exonyms (or if you like, xenonyms) – the non-native name by which others refer to your country (cf. endonyms, the native name by which you refer to your own country)…for instance, what an English-speaker calls “China” (an exonym), a Chinese-language speaker would call Zhōngguó or Chung-kuó (an endonym). Imagine how unwieldy and confusing it would get if every country insisted on universal usage of their particular linguistic exonym?

Article 1 of the Constitution, “India, that is Bharat, shall be a Union of States”

not really a name change as the nation officially has been called Türkiye (Türkiye Cumhuriyeti) since 1923

Cambodia” is the exonym, cf. the endonym of “Khmer”

also called an autonym

meaning “Central Demesne” or “Middle Kingdom” or “Central Nation”

“T” Words from Left Field II: Redux. A Supplement to the Logolept’s Diet

Creative Writing, Literary & Linguistics, Popular Culture, Regional History

<word meaning & root formation>

Tabescent: {appeared in Logolept’s Diet 1.0 but sans its Latin etymology, included here} [from L. tabescens]

Talionic: retaliation; retribution [from MidFr. talion, from L. talis (“such”)]

Tapinosis: {also made an entry in Logolept’s Diet 1.0 but have added Peter Bowler’s definition} the use of degrading diction [from Gk. tapeínōsis, (“lowering”)]

Tarhood: group of sailors, or state of being a sailor; collective term for sailors [from Dut. teer(?) (“seaman”; “mariner”)]

Tarhood

Tardigrade: slow in movement; microscopic water bear [from L. tardigradus (“slowly stepping”), from tardus (“slow”) + -gradior (“step”; “walk”)]

Tardigrade (source: Front Line Genomics)

Tautegorical: saying the same thing with different words, opposite of allegorical [poss. from MidEng. tought (“distended”) + -gori(?) + -cal]

Tegestologist: a collector of beer mats or coasters [from L. teges (“covering”; “mat”) +‎ -logy]

Tegestologist

Temulency: inebriation; drunkenness [from L. temulentia]

Tetragram: a word containing four letters [from Gk. tetra (“four”). + -grāmma (“letter”)]

Thelyphthoric: that which corrupts the morals of women (Gk. Nonce word (?): coined by English clergyman and writer Martin Madan (1780) poss. from thelus (“woman”) + –phthora (“destruction”; “ruin.”) + –ic]

Thersitical: abusive and foul-mouthed; scurrilous; grossly defamatory [Gk. after Thersites, a minor character in the Iliad who slandered and mocked Agamemnon]

Thersitical (Iliad)

Thigmotaxis: the movement of an organism in response to stimulus [Gk. thigma, thigma (“touch”) +  –taxis, (“arrangement”; “order”)]

Thrasonical: bragging and boasting; of, relating to, resembling, or characteristic of Thraso; a vainglorious boaster and swaggerer [L. Thrason-, Thraso, + (-cal): “Thraso”, a braggart soldier in the comedic play Eunuchus by 2nd century BC Roman dramatist Terence]

Thrasonical (Eunuchus)

Tiffin: a snack or light lunch (meaning uncertain)

Tonitruous: thundering; explosive 🧨 [from L. tonitruum (“thunder”)]

Tonsorial: pertaining to barber or hairdressing [from L. tonsor (“barber”) from tondere (“shear”; “clip”) + -al]

Tonsorial (source: ranksmap.com)

Toparch: ruler or prince of a small district, city or petty state [from Gk. (“ruler of a small district”), from tópos, “place”) +‎ –árkhēs, (“ruler”)]

Tralatitious: having a character, force, or significance transferred or derived from something extraneous; passed from one generation to another; handed down (metaphorically) [from L. transferre (“to transfer”) + -itius, -icius (“-itious“)

Tregetour: a magician or juggler 🤹 [from OldFr. tres (“across”) + -geter, -jeter (“to throw”)]

Trilemma: a difficult choice from three options, each of which is unacceptable or unfavourable [modelled on dilemma, with di- (“prefix meaning ‘two, twice, double’”) replaced by tri- (“prefix meaning ‘three’”)]

Tristiloquy: a dull and depressing speech [(?) + -loqui (“speech”)]

“Q” and “R” Words from Left Field II: Redux. A Supplement to the Logolept’s Diet

Adult education, Creative Writing, Literary & Linguistics, Media & Communications, Popular Culture, Society & Culture
<Word origin and root formation>

Quadrimum: best or oldest wine; four-year-old wine [from L. quad (“four”) + -mus]

Quadrimum

Quaintise: a cunning little ploy or strategem; craft; elegance [from Fr. cointise]

Qued: bad; evil [from Proto-Wt Germanic. kwād (“bad”; “evil”)]

Quillet: a subtlety in argument; a subtle distinction [Uncertain, poss from L. quidlibet (“anything”)]

Quinquagesima: pertaining to 50 days [from L. quinquaginta (“fifty”)]

Quisquous: hard to deal with; dubious; of people: having a character difficult to assess [from Scot. Eng. from L. quisquis (“whosoever”)]

Quodlibet: a philosophical or theological point proposed for disputation; a whimsical combination of familiar melodies or texts [from L. qui (“what”) + -libet (“it pleases)”]

Quondam: that once was; (a) former [as that grand dame of words Merriam Webster says: “Looking for an unusual and creative way to say “former”?” Quondam (which came to English in the 16th century from Latin quondam, meaning “at one time” or “formerly”) ~ look no further!]

<Word origin and root formation>

Rampallian: a bold, forward, rampant or wanton woman [Elizabethan term, Henry IV Pt II, Act II)

Rasorial: habitually scratching the ground in search of food [from LateLat. rasor (“one that scrapes”) + -ial]

Rasorial

Recusant: refusing staunchly to comply with some generally accepted rule or custom (Orig. Relig.) [from L. re- + causari (“to give a reason”), from causa (“cause”; “reason”)]

Redivivus: restored to life, or to full liveliness; reborn [L. “reused”]

Remiped: (Zool.) having feet that are adaptable as oars [from L. remiped-, remipes (“oar-footed”)] 👣

Remontado: someone who has fled to the mountains or hills and renounced civilisation; a Northern Philippine’s tribesman; go-back (to the wild) [Galician (Sp.). remontado/remontada]

Remontado

Renable: eloquent; fluent [from OldFr. resnable]

Resipiscence: recognising one’s own error or errors; to see reason once again [from L. resipīscere (“to regain consciousness, come to one’s senses”)]

Resupinate: (Botany.) upside down as a result of twisting ; (Medic.) lying on the back [from re + L. supīnus, from sup-  sub (“under”)]

Rhonchisonant: making a snorting noise; snorting [from L. rhonchus, + –sonans]

Rixation: quarrelling [from L. rīxārī (“to quarrel”)]

Roinous: mean, nasty and contemptible (origin unknown, possibly from Fr)

Rodomontade: empty boasting and blustering; arrogant ranting; braggadocio [from Rodomont, a character in Ariosto’s Orlando Furioso]

Rodomontade

Ruptuary: one not of noble blood; a plebeian; a commoner; a roturier [from MidFr. roturier]