the word’s worth: Virtuous Vocab

By Michele A. Berdy

Published: August 22, 2012 (Issue # 1723)

Ñìèðåíèå: humility

Afew years ago I decided that a look at the ñåìü ñìåðòíûõ ãðåõîâ (seven deadly sins) would be culturally enlightening and personally edifying. So I slogged through ãîðäûíÿ (pride), àë÷íîñòü (greed), ïîõîòü (lust), ãíåâ (anger), çàâèñòü (envy), îáæîðñòâî (gluttony) and óíûíèå (despondency, sloth), discovering all the interesting words and ways to be a Bad Person in the view of Russian culture.

Russian culture also has strong ideas about being a Good Person. Russian has a long list of äîáðîäåòåëè (virtues), a lovely word that was originally a calque from the Greek and meant “good deeds.”

Often certain virtues are listed as the opposites of particular sins — something like spiritual antidotes to bad behavior and qualities. At the top of the list are ãîðäûíÿ (pride), perhaps the worst of the sins, and its opposite — ñìèðåíèå (humility) — probably the greatest of the virtues.

To the modern ear, ñìèðåíèå and the verbs ñìèðèòü (to humble, subdue) and ñìèðèòüñÿ (to resign oneself to something) sound like they might have originally meant ñ ìèðîì (with peace). But language specialists insist that the root of the word was not ìèð (peace) but ìåðà (measure). One armchair etymologist interprets the original meaning this way: Ñìèðåíèå — ýòî çíàíèå ñâîåé ìåðû, óìåíèå ñîðàçìåðèòü è îñîçíàòü ñâîå ìåñòî â ìèðå (Humility — it’s knowing your measure, the ability to compare and acknowledge your place in the world).

That might be a bit of folk etymology, but it’s close to religious and philosophical definitions of ñìèðåíèå that dominated the Russian moral and cultural landscape for centuries. Ñìèðåíèå is ñêðîìíîñòü äóõà (modesty of the spirit); ñîçíàíèå, ÷òî ñîâåðøåíñòâî, ê êîòîðîìó ÷åëîâåê ñòðåìèòñÿ, îñòàåòñÿ áåñêîíå÷íî äàëåêèì (the recognition that the ideal a person is striving toward remains infinitely far away); or ðàñêðûòèå äóøè äëÿ ðåàëüíîñòè (opening your soul to reality).

This lofty cultural value seems to have become one of the casualties of change over the last century in Russia. In everyday speech, the word is often used more narrowly. Ìèëèöèîíåð ïðèâ¸ë â ñìèðåíèå ðàçáóøåâàâøèõñÿ õóëèãàíîâ (The policeman got the unruly hooligans under control).

Of course, language and culture change, and there’s nothing you can do about it. But it’s too bad. It would be nice if a few more people had old-style humility (ñìèðåíèå), and a few less people were forced to resign themselves (ñìèðèòüñÿ) to an inevitable and often unenviable fate.

Michele A. Berdy, a Moscow-based translator and interpreter, is author of “The Russian Word’s Worth” (Glas), a collection of her columns.