September 21, 2000

wax (e.g., poetic)

Just today, I once again heard someone wax poetic. Apart from not knowing the etymology of the term, I realized I was also unsure how to handle it grammatically.

For instance, how can I qualify the phrase? Does a person "wax nicely poetic"? Does he "wax poetic nicely"? Or does she "wax nice poetic"? I guess the question is, what part of speech is "poetic" here - adjective, adverb, or even noun?

And what else can I wax without making a fool of myself (apart from floors and skis, that is)? Or should I say, HOW else can I wax?

In the Marx Brothers' movie Horse Feathers, Groucho Marx, playing waggish university president and professor Quincy Adams Wagstaff, is informed by his secretary: "The Dean is furious. He's waxing wroth." To which Groucho ripostes: "Is Roth out there too? Tell Roth to wax the Dean for a while." Aside from the very funny image of two distinguished professor types buffing each other to a nice shine, the question this raises is: What's waxing? And, for that matter, what's wroth? (Bonus word of the day within word of the day: wroth means 'angry.' Think 'wrath,' and also 'writhe.') 'Wroth' is an adjective, as is 'poetic,' and this is your clue, Holger, that nowadays one typically neither waxes a thing, nor waxes "how." Now, excuse me while I wax pedantic.

Wax the verb (when not referring to actions involving the use of real or metaphorical [bees]wax-like substances, which share a different, though contested, etymology) derives from an Old English word weaxan meaning 'to become,' and counts among its Indo-European relations the German wachsen 'to grow, to evolve,' the Latin augere 'to increase,' the Greek auxánein, 'to grow, to increase,' and the Sanskrit uks 'to grow.' The earliest sense of the verb wax, first attested in the 8th century, was 'to grow; to increase in extent, quantity, intensity, power, etc.' It was used intransitively with subjects both animate and inanimate, so that one might say of oneself "Ich am wel waxen" (c1300), and of things less tangible, "His Art, still wexing, sweetly marrieth His quavering fingers to his warbling breath" (1598). This usage of wax has waned in modern times, except in reference to the moon, and in opposition to its more popular sibling, 'wane' (admit it, you didn't blink when I used it in the first part of this sentence, did you?)

From the 13th century on we find constructions of the wax poetic sort, where wax is followed by an obligatory subject complement, here a predicative adjective. The verb wax in this context had further developed the nonconclusive durative sense of 'to grow' into the conclusive 'to become,' in the process taking on a copular (or linking) function, much like the verb 'to be' in English. How do you know when you have a linking verb on your hands, you ask? Try dropping the complement, and (careful, kids, don't try this at home) see if the meaning of the verb changes. You're becoming smart. You're becoming. Holger waxes enthusiastic. Holger waxes. Totally different meanings, right? There is an additional semantic restriction the copular wax puts on any potential complements: the attribute applied by the adjective must agree with the subject (any old adjective won't do - people can't wax quadratic, for instance, and plants don't wax bombastic, though some people you know might). As for how to modify this type of phrase adverbially, it depends on whether you are modifying the verb and complement together, so that "He waxes poetic nicely," or the adjective only: "As uncharacteristically poetic as he waxes, I find myself falling for him anyway."

Ah, well, I regret my explanation waxes overlong. To steal another Groucho line: "Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana."

Helen