Nick Jainschigg sent me a link to Jennifer Sandlin’s Boing Boing piece on a demon relevant to my interests:
The next time you make a mistake in your writing, or pick up something you’ve published and instantly spot a typo (argh!), don’t fret, it wasn’t your fault! Instead of taking on the shame of not proof-reading your work thoroughly enough, you can just point to Titivillus instead!
Who is Titivillus, you might ask? Well, he’s a demon who has long been blamed for, according to Princeton University’s Medieval Studies department, “slips and sins in song, speech, and writing.” In fact, Medieval Studies scholar Jan Ziolkowski, from Harvard University, traces his origins back to at least 1200, when he began showing up in paintings and sermons in medieval Europe and beyond. And he’s definitely got staying power, as he’s still beloved today in some circles. Princeton University provides this helpful overview of his origins and reach:
Thanks to today’s dominance of English, Titivillus is regarded as especially particular to medieval England, but he became commonplace far beyond the Continent and survived past the Middle Ages to appear in Rabelais, the earliest Slovak literature, Anatole France, Herman Melville, and W. H. Auden, before finally having a novel devoted to him in 1953. He remains unforgotten, a curio beloved among calligraphers and role-play gamers.
Historian Amanda Foreman, writing in The Wall Street Journal, further explains that Titivillus, the “medieval demon of typos” who likely inspired the phrase “the devil is in the details,” took typos very seriously. She recounts that medieval scribes were “warned that Titivillus ensured that every scribal mistake was collected and logged, so that it could be held against the offender at Judgment Day.” Yikes!
There is, of course, a Wikipedia article, which includes this tidbit:
Marc Drogin noted in his instructional manual, Medieval Calligraphy: Its History and Technique (1980), that “for the past half-century every edition of The Oxford English Dictionary has listed an incorrect page reference for, of all things, a footnote on the earliest mention of Titivillus.”
And that revealed to me that there’s an OED entry, itself of great interest; it’s s.v. Tutivillus:
historical in later use.
1. (The name of) a demon or devil that is said to record the sins committed by people as evidence to be used against them on Judgement Day; spec. (a) one said to collect in a sack syllables dropped, skipped, or mumbled in the recitation of Divine Office; (b) one said to note down the gossip and idle chatter of churchgoers during the service.
Chiefly in forms with Latin ending: see α forms.
The specific uses are found in post-classical Latin sources in Britain and other parts of western Europe from the 13th and 14th centuries. In later vernacular sources, e.g. English mystery and morality plays (cf. quots. c1475, a1500²), the character retains these specific characteristics (to varying degrees), but also develops to have a more general demonic purpose. For a full survey and discussion of the history and development of the character, see M. [Margaret] Jennings in Stud. in Philol. vol. 74 (1977) 1–83.c1475 Tytiuillus, þat goth invisibele, hyng hys nett before my eye.
Mankind (1969) l. 876a1500 Tutiuillus, þe deuyl of hell, He wryteþ har names soþe to tel.
in C. Brown, Religious Lyrics of 15th Century (1939) 277a1500 (a1460) Mi name is Tutiuillus; My horne is blawen. Fragmina verborum, Tutiuillus colligit horum; Belzabub algorum, Belial belium doliorum.
Towneley Plays (1994) vol. I. xxx. 411
[Composed a1460]1530 I am a poure dyuel, and my name ys Tytyuyllus… I muste eche day..brynge my master a thousande pokes full of faylynges, & of neglygences in syllables and wordes.
Myroure of Oure Ladye (Fawkes) (1873) i. 541872 Possibly this weird apparition was that of Titivillus, who, a learned Italian canonist assures us, lurks in choirs with a little wallet, into which he collects all elided syllables and false notes made by the singers.
M. E. C. Walcott, Trad. & Customs of Cathedrals 146
[…]2008 Gossips and shrews were mainstays of vernacular literature, church misericords and wall paintings, such as those depicting Tutivillus and female gossips.
Hist. Workshop Journal Autumn 2542. † derogatory. Chiefly in forms without Latin ending (see β forms) and with lower-case initial.
2.a. A wicked, destructive, or difficult person; a scoundrel, a knave. Obsolete.
1498 (?a1475) What people they were yᵗ came to yᵗ disporte..There were..Tityuylles tyrauntes wyth tormentours.
Interpretacon of Names of Goddis & Goddesses (de Worde) sig. Avi/1
[Composed ?a1475]1508 Cankrit Caym, tryit trowane Tutiuillus.
W. Kennedy, Flyting (Chepman & Myllar) in Poems of William Dunbar (1998) vol. I. 2171546 There is no mo suche tytifils in Englands grounde, To holde with the hare, and run with the hounde.
J. Heywood, Dialogue Prouerbes English Tongue i. x. sig. Ciii?1562 All the courte of conscience in cockoldshyres Tynckers and tabberers typplers tauerners Tyttyfylles, tryfullers, turners and trumpers.
Thersytes sig. D.ii2.b. A person who gossips, spreads rumours, or tells tales; a tattler. Obsolete.
1523 Theis titiuyllis with taumpinnis wer towchid and tappid.
J. Skelton, Goodly Garlande of Laurell 642a1529 Thus the people telles..And talke lyke tytyuelles Howe ye brake the dedes wylles.
J. Skelton, Colyn Cloute (?1545) sig. B.iii
[…]1653 The proud Titifil forgot all respect to me.
J. Davies, translation of C. Sorel, Extravagant Shepherd ii. 31Etymology
< post-classical Latin Tutivillus, Titivillus (frequently from 13th cent. in British sources; 14th cent. in continental sources; also as Titinillus, Tityvillus), of unknown origin.
Notes
It has been suggested that the name is related to post-classical Latin tittivilis ‘something worthless’ (6th cent.) and classical Latin tittibillīcium ‘something of no value’ (used once by Plautus; in post-classical Latin, citing Plautus, as tittivillicium (5th cent.)).
In some of the earliest instances of the name it is written Titinillus, or Tutinillus, and in many it is impossible to say whether the middle consonant is n or u/v. At an early date English usage settled on u (later v and f). Titivillus was evidently in origin a creation of monastic wit, but in its English form the name passed into more general use.
Several early sources cite the Latin verse, often quoted by later writers, Fragmina psalmorum Titiuillus colligit horum ‘Titivillus collects the fragments of these psalms’, to which is sometimes added Quaque die mille vicibus sarcinat ille ‘every day he fills his bag a thousand times’; compare the following example of this verse in English context:
a1450 Janglers cum Japers, Nappers, Galpers, quoque Drawers, Momlers..Fragmina verborum Tutivillus colligit horum.
MS Lansdowne 763 f. 60ᵛTitiuillus is also mentioned, 1382–5, by Gower Vox Clamantis iv. 864; and in the 15th cent., especially around c1450, references become frequent.
That entry was revised in 2018; the version in the second edition is s.v. ˈtitivil and begins:
Forms: 5 Tyti-, Tyty-, Titi-, Tityuillus, -villus, 5–6 Tutiuillus, -villus, Tytyuyllus; 6 titiuil, -ille, -ylle, (Tom Titiuile), titti-, tytyuell(e, tittifill, tyttyfylle, titifyl, 7 -fill. Also 5 Tytyuylly, Tytiuilly. [ad. med.L. Tuti-, Titivillus, in OF. also Tutiville: of unknown origin. Connexion has been suggested with L. tītivillitium used once by Plautus, and inferred to mean ‘a mere trifle, a bagatelle’.
But in some of the earliest continental instances of the name, it is written Titinillus, or Tutinillus, and in many it is impossible to say whether the middle consonant is n or u (v). At an early date English usage settled on u (later v and f). Titivillus was evidently in origin a creation of monastic wit, but in its English form the name passed from the Mystery Plays into popular speech as a term of the vernacular, still in use after 1600.]
I don’t know where Drogin’s “incorrect page reference” is, but his book has a whole section on Titivillus (pp. 17-20). Thanks, Nick!
“for the past half-century every edition” presumably means the first edition, which had sv Titivil the note
which should read (Wackernagel, Gesch. der Deut. Litt., I. 466, note)
Surely intentional?
I mentioned Titivillus to my students today (when I wrote “eah” for “each” on the board), and I’m sure I’ll have more occasions to do so.
which should read (Wackernagel, Gesch. der Deut. Litt., I. 466, note)
Thanks!
to appear in … W. H. Auden
Appropriately mistranscribed. (Rudwin)
The article of Jennings’ that was linked to is a very fun read!
I had no idea the Druckfehlerteufel had such an elaborate ancestor…
Clearly a demonic form of Merthyr Tydfil/Tudful.
I’ve had the odd pint or so in The Printer’s Devil in Holborn, London. Sadly the pub seems defunct now. Printing must have been a big thing in that area.
Trykkernissen is traditionally blamed for tyrkfjel in the papers here.
One of my “projects” as a free lancer was with an organization housed in an building that used to be used for printing books. The concrete pillars were about twice the size of the ones needed in other buildings. (But still the developer of the site 100m away had to pay for extra vibration damping on our server room racks before they started blasting out the foundations. that part of Stockholm being about one foot of topsoil over bedrock).
So contrary to what the Boing Boing piece says, I shouldn’t have blamed Titivillus for my marker-o yesterday, right? Titivillus’ job is to make sure I get blamed for it, where blame counts.
The Auden reference reminds me (via Merax and Mullin) that there are quite a number of demons traditionally dedicated, not so much to the banality of evil, but to its sheer pettiness. No injury too small to bother with …
The Demons of Ignorance from The Phantom Tollbooth.
To complement the survey to which Xerîb calls attention, there is a booklet of remembrances of Prof. Jennings from when she died in 2016. She was Sister Margaret, C.S.J. when she joined SJNY as a fresh PhD in 1969. After leaving the order, she married Francis Kilcoyne Jr., who appears to have been a priest when his father was ordained, shortly after their mother / wife died. All of which sounds rather more sensibly fluid than such things often are.
Some forty years ago, a friend (now deceased) lent me a humorous short novel about Titivillus. I can’t remember if it was the one mentioned here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titivillus#In_popular_culture – that’s the only one I can find a reference to online.
@Kate: several online antiquarian booksellers in England have the original 1953 edition of that novel for less than 20 Euros, for instance C. Parritt in Derby.
Here it is in the Internet Archive.
Muphry’s law of proofreading?
@DM, indeed. But it’s sort of traditional as an ironic exemplar of a spelling error. It would be sad if other languages / printing traditions didn’t have similar.
(For those whose Danish is weak, trykfejl = ‘typo’ [in printed material]. Stavefejl in manuscripts or when you suspect it’s a lack of understanding rather than dexterity. For things like closed captioning that are input in real time, both would be cromulent, but tastefejl ~ ‘keyboarding error’ is also a thing).
Lars: It would be sad if other languages / printing traditions didn’t have similar.
Norw. trykkleif with “error” rearranged to the male name Leif.
tryklejf would work in Danish as well, but -fjel sounds better and is obviously nonsense. Which may show something about national characters, or it may not.
Wiktionary does list tyop and tpyo for English, but I don’t know how common they are.
I used to cyber-know someone who was fond of “tyop”.
I’ve seen Dreckfehler as a humorous alternation of Druckfehler “typo”, with Dreck “dirt” (in some varieties also used as a euphemism for “shit”.)
Another stylized typo is* discussed here.
* I discovered (or probably rediscovered) an interesting quirk of my idiolectical pragmatics. Had I been linking to a previous discussion on this site, I would have used was, referencing an earlier part of the ongoing discussion of which this thread is also a part. However, since I was instead pointing out a quote from elsewhere, I used the eternal present that is common in literary (but not as much scientific) citations. I remember the conversation recorded on my blog, so it is definitely in the past from my viewpoint. However, no one else here will have that memory, so the past tense frame does not apply when I link to it. On the other hand, if I sent my ex-wife a similar link to that post, I would use was, because she was also there, making it definitely in the past for her.
A very interesting and convincing footnote!
*facepalm* How could I forgot Tpyos, the vaguely Greek god who demands daily offerings.
Lars M.: -fjel sounds better and is obviously nonsense.
Not that obviously (to me). I first went on a rave about how much better the Danish word is because both elements has a meaning, bur they make a nonsense compound*. Then it occurred to me to check the spelling of the last element.
* tyrk “turk” +
fjelfjæl “(wooden) (cutting) board”yiddish גרײַז grayz – “a mistake with language (including typos)” – doesn’t have a canonical Wrong Version that i’ve ever met, but its etymology is muddy and contested. alexis manaster ramer makes a decent case (warning: academia dot edu link) for the grisliest possibility, getting into some of how and why yiddish etymology is such a mess along the way.
…huh. Today, Greis is literary for “old man”.
The obsolescent word getürkt “faked” and the thoroughly obsolete Tartarennachricht “fake news” (in a military context) come to mind.
I’ve read it now and recommend it.
The fact that it’s a draft has some funny consequences. Here’s footnote 25:
I’m reminded of the castle of aaaaaaaaaargh.
@Trond, for some reason it feels natural to pronounce trykfjel without stød and trykfjæl with, which means that it never occurred to me that the two could be commingled. Syllables with /æ/ have to be stressed, maybe? Don’t ask me, I just speak the bloody language.
(And FWIW, I only know -fjæl from muldfjæl = ‘mould-board’. Where it also has stød).
@Stu Clayton – Yes, it was that book – I remember the cover picture.