Of Crows and Corona

It’s an unscientific assessment, but I estimate we hear the word corona about a gazillion times an hour, these days. I’m sure you’ve already learned the reason; under the electron microscope, the ‘spike proteins’ sticking out of a coronavirus resemble the points that adorn royal headgear. Corona means crown. The reason kings and queens have coronation ceremonies.

But, as I’m wont to do, I wondered how the crown got its name. So, I looked it up. Would you believe, crows? Wait, what? Crows? And the voice inside my head said, “Look at the words. Crow. Crown. See any resemblance, Einstein?”

I’m getting ahead of myself. But this crow thing really threw me for a loop.

Most of our coronas are pretty obvious. They look like crowns. When the middle of the sun is obscured, as happens during a total eclipse, you can see the corona. The chewing surfaces of teeth. The spike proteins of a virus. Mexican beer.

Oh, wait. That’s more of an allusion to things royal. And, by the way, while it’s true that sales of Corona beer dipped during the COVID-19 pandemic, it wasn’t because people were afraid of the name – that’s an urban myth. The dip came when beer consumption dropped as the pandemic spread in China, among the brewer’s biggest customers.

I digress. (Did somebody mention beer?)

Digging deeper, we also see the root in coronary. That’s because the blood vessels feeding the heart form a crown-like pattern. It even lurks in corollary, originally to mean when one proven idea inadvertently proves another. This is from its Latin roots. Corona spawned corolla, meaning a small crown or garland – a metaphorical bonus, in the case of corollary.

Coroner shares the root. But it has nothing to do with doctors or blood vessels. From the 12th century, the original title – wait for it – custos placitorum coronae, was the officer who protected the private property of the royal family. Gradually, it was used to describe anyone administering criminal justice. 500 years later, the job title had narrowed to determining cause of death.

What’s it got to do with crows? That’s where it gets interesting. The argument starts with the Greek, korōnē, meaning crow. That probably began as an onomatopoeia, imitating the crow’s raucous call. Later, it took on the meaning of anything curved or hooked, resembling the crow’s beak, including crowbar, or the points of a crown.

So, it’s a bit of a crow-and-egg situation. Did crow inspire crown, or the other way ‘round? Hard to say for sure, but the crow-first crowd have a pretty compelling argument.

What about carnation? Tricky. Some believe it, too, has its roots in corona – a variation of coronation, from the shape of the blossom. I disagree. I’m in the meat camp. As in carnivore and chili con carne, the -carn- here means meat, to describe flesh. That’s why Jesus is described as the incarnation; God becoming meat. Since many carnations are pink or red, their name likely means ‘flesh-colored.’

Like many words, once the noun is established, it readily becomes a verb. When I was a kid, my dad would often say, “Keep that up, I’m gonna crown you.”

But, I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean bestowing me with royal title.

=S

Word Wanderings would merely be a shadow without Douglas Harper’s amazing etymonline.com. If the language around COVID-19 interests you, be sure to see his exhaustive survey. 

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