Language Connecting Us to the Stars
Consider, crescent, desire, influence, gravity... Much of our language connects our knowledge of life on Earth to what we see in the heavens above
I have a tattoo on my arm that comes from one of Galileo’s drawings of Saturn from the year 1610. Things were quite different back then, at that birthplace in time the use of telescopes for observational astronomy. Galileo himself is believed to have never really known that Saturn has rings—instead thinking that what he was seeing were perhaps two large moons that were bound closely to the planet (it wasn’t until well over a decade after Galileo’s death that Christiaan Huygens identified that what appeared like giant moons or maybe even arms connecting to Saturn were indeed a large ring system).
That period of time around the early 1600s, when observational astronomy was just beginning to open up a far more vast and intricate universe than our ancestors had ever known, was crucial for our development of modern science. Astrology—long considered a key to understanding human fate—began to diverge then from astronomy, a field that would transform into a modern science. Works like Galileo’s Siderius Nuncius (The Starry Messenger) revealed new discoveries about the heavens through the telescope, challenging long-held ideas and inspiring new ways of thinking about the cosmos.
But, as explored in the recent Episode 181 of the History of English podcast, "Heaven and Earth," that was also a very interesting time in regard to our use of language and our developments in literature (if you haven’t listened to this podcast before, I highly recommend it for exploring the connections between language and history).
Our languages and the words we’ve developed to share our ideas are about so much more than just communicating one simple concept between two or more different people. Our words and our languages have been used to highlight how we see the world, to show our socioeconomic standings (as explored in this interview with Richard Powers), to communicate our mathematical interpretations of reality, and to express the cosmos in very human or very terrestrial ways.
As I shared recently on Twitter/X, “words and language are a special kind of magic”:
Many of us are stirred by viewing the stars in the sky at night. We’re just as impacted by thoughts of what more may lie “out there” now as our ancestors were (though, arguably, our ancestors—who had much better nightly views of the heavens without all of our light pollution —may have had a far better sense of connection to the cosmos than many modern people).
One thing that is rather surprising, though, is just how much of our modern language draws from older beliefs and understanding about the stars and the cosmos—our language also deeply connects knowledge, imagination, and our celestial visions. As shared in the History of English podcast, there are a number of words and terms that we have developed in connection to our ancient ideas about the heavens above.
Here’s just a small smattering of some of the words and ideas in our modern language that are directly connected to our ancient understandings of the cosmos:
Disaster – From Latin dis (bad) + aster (star), originally meaning "ill-starred," reflecting belief in the negative influence of celestial alignments.
Astrology and Astronomy – Both derived from the Greek astro (star); astrology focuses on a presumed celestial influence, while astronomy evolved into the scientific study of the stars (and eventually was split even more into realms like planetary science and cosmology).
Consider – From Latin considerare (to be with the stars or to observe the stars), originally meaning to contemplate the heavens. A merger of “con-” (with) and “sidus” (star).
Desire – From Latin desiderare (from the stars), reflecting a longing inspired by celestial guidance. A merger of “de-” (from) and “sidus” (star).
Influence – Rooted in the idea of the stars’ powers flowing down to affect human events, with influenza deriving from the same origin.
Opposition – Used in astrology for celestial bodies positioned directly across from each other in the heavens above. We still use the term in astronomy, but many of us will know of it in its use to mean two people, parties, or ideas that are opposed to each other.
Jovial – From Jupiter’s influence, associated with cheerfulness and good fortune.
Mercurial – Derived from Mercury, describing volatility and rapid changes, much like the planet’s movements.
Saturnine – Linked to Saturn, describing a gloomy or distant demeanor, reflecting the planet’s association with remoteness.
Crescent – From Latin crescere (to grow), describing the moon’s waxing phases and its curved shape. In episode of 181 of History of English, there’s also a fun connection made to croissants (next time you’re enjoying a croissant, just know that the shape of the light French pastry bread is connected to the shape of the Moon as well as an ancient word for growth!).
Satellite – From Latin satelles (attendant or guard), first used to describe the moons orbiting Jupiter. The word satelles was also previously used to describe accomplices or followers—imagine if social media used the word satellites instead of followers… as in, “I now have over 10,000 satellites on LinkedIn!”
Moon – Extended from Earth’s Moon to describe similar celestial bodies orbiting other planets. Remember that before Galileo, we did not know of other moons out there. And it was his first discoveries of Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto orbiting around Jupiter (hence why we call them the Galilean Moons) that not only opened up a greater understanding that other worlds also had their own natural satellites but angered the Catholic church enough for them to imprison Galileo with house arrest for the rest of his life.
Gravity – From Latin gravitas (heaviness), later associated with the force binding celestial bodies. This is also why we use the word “gravitas” in modern English to mean dignity or seriousness, and especially to indicate a speaker whose words hold a lot of weight and meaning due to how they communicate or the credibility bestowed upon them.
Telescopio (Telescope) - From Greek roots teles (far) and skopein (to watch or see), coined by Federico Cesi to describe the device used to observe distant celestial objects.
Of course, these are just a small few of the many words in English that come from older sources that connect us to the cosmos.
From the biblical phrase "the heavens and the earth" (Genesis 1:1) to science fiction’s myriad explorations of interstellar travel and exploring the cosmos, our connection to the heavens has also been a recurring theme in art, literature, and other media. Early works like Francis Godwin’s The Man in the Moone in 1638 imagined lunar inhabitants, blending celestial wonder with human curiosity. A lot of people don’t actually know that there are even earlier science fiction stories that explore space exploration and the concept of aliens. For instance, Lucian’s A True Story was written in the 2nd century CE and might be arguably the first science fiction text (no offense meant to Mary Shelley—Frankenstein is indeed the first sci-fi novel of our modern era of literature, but we would be quite wrong to consider it the first sci-fi text when A True Story was written over 1600 years earlier and includes concepts like interplanetary travel and aliens living on the Moon).
The stars have always been more than distant lights in the sky; they are woven into the fabric of our language, culture, and understanding of ourselves.
As modern science advances our knowledge of the universe, we remain tied to these celestial roots, blending ancient wonder with cutting-edge discovery. By exploring our cosmic connections through the tools of our modern age, we continue to find meaning and inspiration among the stars, and perhaps connection with the generations of people who’ve come before us.