Shower is of uncertain origin, and appears to have at its root the notion of a fitful spell of something – rain, for example, or illness: something that comes, is with us in copious amounts and then is gone just as suddenly. It’s a very old word, over a thousand years old in fact, with roots still deeper than that. You may recall how Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales starts, with a reference to April’s sweet showers piercing March’s droughts to the root. There’s a quaint though recent (1943) meaning from New Zealand, a “light decorated covering spread over cups and saucers set out on a tray or table,” and a sweet quote: “All was out of sight beneath a large and snowing fabric… the kind of gossamer thing he could remember his mother had coveted many years ago in a shop window and described as a shower.”
(As I wrote the above, a tremendous shower poured down upon us from a sky that was blue just moments ago. Alanis Morrisette might call this ironic, though it is merely coincidental. Bloody inconvenient when you’re camping, though.)
The meaning I’m concerned with, however, dates from 1873, is first used by Mark Twain, and for its first fifty years – as noticed by the OED, at any rate – it’s a far from pleasant thing. It’s medicinal (1873: “He has fell back on hot foot-baths at night and cold showers in the morning” – Mark Twain) and, as Twain’s use showed, it’s stone cold (1889: “You forgot to put the ice in the shower, Francois; it is hardly bracing enough” – Gunter).
Then suddenly, between the wars, it becomes part of the daily routine, preparation for the day ahead: “I had a shower and rammed on some clothes” 1953, Macdonald) – and notice how it’s already associated with getting ready efficiently, if not in a rush. In the blink of an etymological eye, a merely quarter century, it becomes a necessity to cleanliness that is assumed as a right and noticeable in its absence: “Must have a shower. I’ve been in a muck sweat all day” – 1953, Lehmann. So in less than a century it’s evolved from a freezing tonic to midway between a luxury and a requirement: “The bathroom… was small, but lush… with… a bidet and a corner shower” (Wainwright, 1973).
(Note the economy with which the OED illustrates this development: those five quotes, each with a distinct and evolving meaning, are all we get. There’s a mini thesis there, done without plaudit or ceremony. I hope the editor who compiled it knows it is appreciated.)
The word shower used in this way, incidentally, is really an abbreviation of shower bath, described by the OED as “Also U.S. a form of punishment for convicts”: there’s a quotation from 1868 referring to the “severe punishment” of the “terrible Shower Bath… now seldom used.” The original focus is on the bath, and only later on the shower: “They have invented a machine… which is now very much in use; it is called a shower-bath. It is like a sentry-box” (Duc de Levis’ Eng, 1815).
In that same period of time, by the way – from 1873 to the present – the Oxford English Dictionary was executed (having been conceived in the late 1850s), printed (twice) and has now evolved so that I can refer to it on my laptop in the middle of the bush. In this location, it can’t be said that the shower has progressed as far…
No comments:
Post a Comment