In a word . . . worm, earwig

It was Éanna Ní Lamhna of the wonderful RTÉ radio programme Mooney Goes Wild who recently sent me in hot pursuit of worms and earwigs. As she would. She was intrigued as to their origin. So was I.

Worm, I discovered, is from the Old English wurm, a variant of wyrm meaning serpent, snake, dragon, reptile, even maggots. By about 1100AD it began to refer to the earthworm we have come to love so much!

The phrase “the worm has turned” refers to an otherwise meek person who hits back after being pushed just that bit too far. Think Denis O’Brien! (Is there a lawyer in the house?)

As an insult the word worm means an abject, miserable person, of whom we know none.

The phrase “can of worms”, meaning a difficult problem, is said to have originated only as recently as the 1950s and is derived from the literal can of worms a fisherman might use and the image of everything all tangled up inside. Usually maggots.

The verb to worm is said to date from the 1600s and suggests patient, slow, sinuous, slithery progress. Ugh!

Then there was earwig, which also has worm connections. The wig bit comes from wiggle, how it moves. The tale that this insect would crawl into your ear is just that, a tale and one not confined to English.

In French the earwig is known as perce- oreilles (don't try pronouncing that at home) which, literally means "ear piercer". Not true.

In German the earwig is known as ohrwurm, or "ear worm". It is a term the Germans also use to describe annoying bits of music or jingles that go round and round in your head and you can't get rid of them.

In English “ear worm” has been used to describe the same thing since the 1980s.

The animated the film Inside Story makes witty use of an "ear worm".

Earwig comes from the Old English earwicga, from eare, meaning . . . ear, and wicga meaning a beetle, worm, or insect.

It describes any member of those many elongated, nocturnal beauties/insects that have a pair of large, movable pincers at the rear of the abdomen/arse.

To earwig is to eavesdrop and fill the mind with insinuations. Remember the snake in Jungle Book earwigging /whispering into receptive ears, "trussst in meee . . ." Don't even think about it. inaword@irishtimes.com