Who knew Alcatraz, the former prison in the San Francisco Bay, would be in the news, like so many other improbable and repellent items entering our consciousnesses these days? Alcatraz, at least, has two (nearly) redeeming features: one, the name has an interesting derivation, and, two, it coincidentally appears on my list of possible words to write about.
If you’ve ever seen the 1962 classic film starring Burt Lancaster, The Birdman of Alcatraz, you’ll appreciate the word’s irony. The movie’s a highly fictionalized bio-pic of an inmate named Robert Stroud, played by Burt Lancaster, a convicted murderer who became a self-taught ornithologist while in prison. The birds that Stroud studies symbolize, of course, freedom. What most viewers don’t realize is that the prison itself is named for birds. How about that?
Alcatraz is a earlier form of the word albatross. The prison-island is named for the birds who lived there, who were actually pelicans. Okay, pelicans and albatrosses are different species, but they’re similar and often confused.
The Spanish or Portuguese word albatros is an alteration of the earlier alcatraz, originally meaning a web-footed sea bird, or pelican. This name might come from the Arabic al-ghattas “sea eagle” or from Arabic al-qadus, which meant “jar.” This term, referring to an object that could hold water, might refer to the pelican’s pouch.
Follow my example. Next time you’re distracted or troubled by the news, turn your distress into something good. Or at least harmless. Ignore the moral and economic ramifications of disturbing dispatches. Instead, explore some etymologies.
Next time, we’ll be taking a look at tariffs!
Love this! Can’t wait for your “tariffs” post.