My Mom is reading a novel by Rosamund Pilcher, and has twice run across the word “coolth,” used as in “the coolth of the evening.” It’s not in my Webster’s, so I told Mom I’d ask the Teeming Millions. Is it some kind of Irish slang word?
P.S. If a word is so weird that it takes you out of the book to go “what?!” that’s bad writing and bad editing . . .
I believe coolth was standard English in Elizabethan times. I seem to remember hearing that it’s used in a Shakespeare play, also, but I can’t cite or guarantee the truth of that.
And I completely forget to give the definition, which you were apparently looking for.
It’s a parallel construction to warmth, only denoting coolness or chill. It is archaic in standard English, though it may be still be common in Scottish dialect.
It appeared in one of Edward Eager’s fantasy novels for young people…MAGIC BY THE LAKE, I believe.
It’s a hot day, and Jane, Michael, Elizabeth, and Martha finally finish their chores and take a dip in the lake. One of them says “Blessed, blessed coolth.” Another one says they don’t think that that’s a word. And then they all agree that it SHOULD be.
The novel was written in the 1950s, but set in the 1920s.
So, basically, Rosamund is being a wiseass and showing off her Elizabethan knowledge; or is dragging in imaginary words from left field? I still say her editor should’ve called her on that one.
“Coolth” is indeed listed in the OED, as well as its variant “cooth,” both meaning “coolness.”
It also has the ring of something Abdul al-Hazred might have written about, such as “And fearsome Coolthulu reared its hideous body above the ghastly frigid barrenness that was its home. . .”
Hmmm. So I guess anyone who wants to settle back with a good Rosamund Pilcher book had better have the OED at their bedside or they won’t know what the bloody hell that show-off is talking about.
By the way, thanks, all—I will report to Mom tonight.
Harlan Ellison wrote a short story entitled “Have Coolth”. Appears in the “Gentleman Junkie” collection, which had the distinction of being the only paperback ever reviewed by Dorothy Parker (positively, amazingly enough). Frankly, it’s early Ellison, and except for “Daniel White for the Greater Good”, he’s done better.