Masks

The word "mask" meaning a covering for the face entered English only in the 1530s as "maske" or similar, borrowed from Middle French masque ("a covering to hide or guard the face"). From there, it traces its way back to Italian maschera (or its variant mascara, attested from the 13th century), meaning "mask" or "disguise." This Italian term derives from Medieval Latin masca (or mascha), recorded from around the 7th–8th centuries, where it meant "mask," but also extended to "specter," "nightmare," or "evil spirit."

After that, of course, the trail goes cold. One possible "ultimate origin" is Arabic maskharah (مَسْخَرَة), meaning "buffoon," "mockery," or "object of ridicule," derived from the verb sakhira ("to ridicule" or "to mock"), which could just about tie into the idea of a mask as something used in jest, disguise, or theatrical mockery. (In classical Latin, meanwhile, the term for a theatrical mask was persona, which evolved into our word "person," but originally meant the "mask" through which an actor's voice sounded—per sonare "to sound through".)

An alternative Romance/Germanic or pre-Indo-European root might be via Provençal/Occitan mascarar ("to blacken" or "smear the face"), Catalan mascarar, or Old French mascurer ("to black the face"), which links to words for darkening or soiling the face (as a form of disguise), possibly from a root mask- meaning "black" or related to "smear/blacken." Some then connect this to a pre-Indo-European substrate in southern Europe, or even a distant link to Germanic words like English "mesh" (from Old English mæscre or Proto-Germanic maskōn, meaning "net" or "mesh"—perhaps evoking a net-like face covering).*

In any case, the word entered English and replaced older English terms like grīma (Old English for "mask," surviving in "grime") and displaced borrowings like viser (from Old French for "visor"). Meanwhile, Old Norse had gríma (“a kind of face mask”) and of course Óðinn's given name Grímr - sometimes translated "the Masked One" and sometimes "the Hooded One". We would have to reconstruct the equivalent for his Old English cognate Woden, but it's easily enough done. *Grim may well survive not just in the English surname Grim, but also in place names such as Grim's Ditch and Grim's Dyke - not to mention figures from folklore and symbolism such as the Church Grim and of course the Grim Reaper.

The Swedish word mask on the other hand means 'worm', and is cognate with the English word 'maggot', which of course ultimately comes from Old English maþa, and thither from Proto-Germanic. It's cognate with the English word 'mawk', meaning a slattern - although we also get the word 'mawkish' from it, which traditionally meant literally sickly rather than in the metaphorical modern "sentimental" sense.

And then of course we have the Latin word musca, meaning 'a fly' - and whence of course "mosquito", and so on. Jonson was perhaps having a certain amount of fun with the (somewhat recondite) wordplay in Volpone, when he has Mosca (a man whose name means 'fly' and who is literally a parasite - i.e. one who eats at another man's table) declare

"Tut, forget, sir.
The weeping of an heir should still be laughter

Under a visor."

In any case, it's a declaration that neatly sums up the cynicism of a play that is all about disguises, deception and corruption.

One wonders of course what went through Tolkien's mind when he came up with character names like Farmer Maggot and Gríma Wormtongue. He insisted that the former was just a meaningless Hobbitish name, and I suppose we have to take his word for it. (The idea of associating a humble arable farmer, working in the boggy soil of the Marish, with earthworms clearly just wouldn't do!) The latter though of course seems much more likely. (Wormtongue is a character with more than one mask!)

But deeper and further back one cannot help but think of the original grim-faced, masked warriors of Tolkien's legendarium - his dwarves, who were themselves the literary descendants of "the maggot folk of Ymir" in Gylfaginning.

It was their custom moreover to wear great masks in battle hideous to look upon; and those stood them in good stead against the dragons. For the Naugrim could withstand both fire and the wrack of battle better than any of the other speaking peoples; and it is said that the iron of their helms and their axes and their mail was so hard that the blows of the Orcs were turned aside or broken. 

[The Silmarillion]

At the Nirnaeth Arnoediad it was their masks that allowed the Dwarves of Belegost momentarily to the turn the tide, and even to wound and force the retreat of great worm Glaurung himself.

Much goes on beneath a mask!

*Wiktionary notes "mask" (face covering) as a doublet of "mesh" in this sense. And alas there is no direct connection to unrelated words like Hebrew masekhah, which means "molten image" in biblical Hebrew and has been repurposed in modern Hebrew for "mask" partly due to phonetic similarity.

Coots and Clockwork Oranges

Interestingly, in The Lord of the Rings Tom Bombadil is simply 'queer'.

In 'Bombadil Goes Boating' though he has 'gone mad as a coot'!

The phrase 'queer as a coot' was probably quite standard in Tolkien's time.

The phrase 'queer as a clockwork* orange' was probably less so.

*The original of that particular phrase probably was indeed (pace Ali G) this.

Is Hallowe'en Catholic?

Daniel Maclise, Snap-Apple Night (1833) - as Hallowe'en is known in Kerry

As we know it, that is?

In all probability, yes, it is, and the prejudice against it almost certainly has its origins in anti-Catholic bigotry. There is no credible evidence that "pagan" Samhain and Hallowe'en have anything to do with each other. The former involved lighting bonfires to celebrate the Celtic New Year. The latter marks the beginning of the Christian month of the dead. Practices such as porch-watching and souling go back to the Middle Ages, before the rise of Protestantism. In Ireland, souling became guising, and in the Nineteenth Century it crossed over to America where it became modern day trick-or-treating.

In Scotland and Ireland, "guising" — children going from door to door in disguise — is traditional, and a gift in the form of food, coins or "apples or nuts for the Halloween party" (in more recent times chocolate) is given out to the children dressed up in various costumes. The tradition is called "guising" because of the disguises or costumes worn by the children. In the West Mid Scots dialect, guising is known as "galoshans". Among the earliest record of guising at Halloween in Scotland is in 1895, where masqueraders in disguise carrying lanterns made out of scooped out turnips, visit homes to be rewarded with cakes, fruit, and money. Guising also involved going to wealthy homes, and in the 1920s, boys went guising at Halloween up to the affluent Thorntonhall, South Lanarkshire. An account of guising in the 1950s in Ardrossan, North Ayrshire, records a child receiving 12 shillings and sixpence having knocked on doors throughout the neighborhood and performed. There is a significant difference from the way the practice has developed in North America with the associated threat. In Scotland and Ireland, the children are only supposed to receive treats if they perform a party trick for the households they go to. This normally takes the form of singing a song or reciting a joke or a funny poem which the child has memorised before setting out. Occasionally a more talented child may do card tricks, play the mouth organ, or something even more impressive, but most children will earn plenty of treats even with something very simple. Often they won't even need to perform. While going from door to door in disguise has remained popular among Scots and Irish at Halloween, the North American saying "trick-or-treat" has become common.

[Wikipedia] 

And of course the more Catholic a country is the more likely it will be that Hallowe'en is a "thing". "Trick-or-treating" is known today in the Republic of Ireland, Puerto Rico, and northwestern and central Mexico. In the latter, this practice is called calaverita (Spanish for "little skull"), and instead of "trick or treat", the children ask ¿me da mi calaverita? ("can you give me my little skull?") where a calaverita is a small skull made of sugar or chocolate. In St. Louis, Missouri the quid-pro-quo aspect still exists in the local trick-or-treat culture: technically it's trick-and-treat, in as much as that children in the area are expected to perform a joke, usually a simple Halloween-themed pun or riddle, before receiving any candy; this "trick" earns the "treat".

In Portugal, children go from house to house on All Saints day and All Souls Day, carrying pumpkin carved lanterns called coca, asking every one they see for Pão-por-Deus singing rhymes where they remind people why they are begging, saying "...It is for me and for you, and to give to the deceased who are dead and buried[...]" or "[...]It is to share with your deceased [...]" If a door is not open or the children don't get anything, they end their singing saying "[...]In this house smells like lard, here must live someone deceased". In the Azores the bread given to the children takes the shape of the top of a skull. The tradition of pão-por-Deus was already recorded in the 15th century. After this ritual begging, takes place the Magusto and big bonfires are lit with the "firewood of the souls". The young people play around smothering their faces with the ashes. The ritual begging for the deceased used to take place all over the year as in several regions the dead, those who were dear, were expected to arrive and take part in the major celebrations like Christmas and a plate with food or a seat at the table was always left for them. 

[Ibid.]

In Austria, between 30th October and 8th November, Austrians celebrate Seleenwoche (All Souls' Week) by remembering loved ones that have passed away, and leave bread, water and a lamp on a table before going to bed in a bid to 'welcome the dead souls'.

In other non-Catholic countries, Hallowe'en customs go on, but they've been disengaged from Hallowe'en altogether.

In Sweden, children dress up as witches and monsters when they go trick-or-treating on Maundy Thursday (the Thursday before Easter) while Danish children dress up in various attires and go trick-or-treating on Fastelavn (or the next day, Shrove Monday). In Norway, "trick-or-treat" is called "knask eller knep", which means almost the same thing, although with the word order reversed, and the practice is quite common among children, who come dressed up to people's doors asking for, mainly, candy. Many Norwegians prepare for the event by consciously buying a small stock of sweets prior to it, to come in handy should any kids come knocking on the door, which is very probable in most areas. The Easter witch tradition is done on Palm Sunday in Finland. In parts of Flanders and some parts of the Netherlands and most areas of Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, children go to houses with homemade beet lanterns or with paper lanterns (which can hold a candle or electronic light), singing songs about St. Martin on St. Martin's Day (the 11th of November), in return for treats. In Northern Germany and Southern Denmark, children dress up in costumes and go trick-or-treating on New Year's Eve in a tradition called "Rummelpott".

[Ibid.]

John William Waterhouse, The Missal (1902)

This is of course the counterpart (its "sister" painting, if you like) of Waterhouse's other painting, The Crystal Ball.

Ecclesia

The above icon shows an... unusual representation of the Crucifixion.

The woman riding on the beast is of course Ecclesia. The beast itself of course symbolizes the Gospels. And the figures on the other side of the Cross are of course Our Lady and St John.

The reason why the latter two are both on the same side though is curious. More normally they would be on either side of the Cross, and the figure balancing out Ecclesia would be Synagoga.

In England the two of them - Ecclesia on one side of the Cross and Synagoga on the other - can apparently still be seen - albeit mutilated - in the Cathedrals of Rochester, Lincoln, Salisbury, and Winchester.

Johan Egerkrans, 'Norse God'

This is Baldur, from Johan Egerkrans's book Nordiska Gudar.

In 1925, Dietrich Eckart wrote

In Christ, the embodiment of all manliness, we find all that we need. And if we occasionally speak of Baldur, our words always contain some joy, some satisfaction, that our pagan ancestors were already so Christian as to have an indication of Christ in this ideal figure.