Insults That Taste Russian

With so many borrowings entering the language of those who once called themselves russichi, it is getting harder and harder to tell what is a true Russian word, if there even is such a thing. To paraphrase the famous saying: scratch a Russian word and you will find a Turkish, Tartar or a Greek root. Well, except perhaps for authentically Slavic words like Yarilo (the Sun God in pagan Rus).

But let’s forget about etymology – an all-too-serious science for this space. Instead, we will simply consider some descriptive words which sound and look authentically Russian, and which are fun to say and use (if not always a good choice among “educated folk”).

Start with хмырь, which forced its way into the language from criminal argot. How do we translate this? Forget the dictionary. As one of my teachers used to say, “true translation begins where the dictionary ends.” A хмырь is an obnoxious, arrogant and unrefined person whose very appearance makes you cringe. A sleazeball with a slovenly gait who makes passes at your daughter would be a хмырь. An arrogant, ill-shaven tourist, smelling of booze and trying to jump the queue at Sheremetyevo customs? Definitely a хмырь.

Another pejorative of this ilk is прохиндей, best defined as a sly dog. The film Прохиндиада, is the story of such a прохиндей – a Soviet-style fixer with contacts in both high and low places, someone who could open any door. A прохиндей could thus be seen as an entrepreneurial хмырь. An unscrupulous, obnoxious salesperson could well fit this image, but then in today’s Russia, those characteristics are less pejorative than they used to be.

Here’s another: разгильдяй. This is someone who may be nice, but who has a low sense of discipline, commitment and no goals in life. It is someone you cannot trust with anything serious.

Xалдей is another tasty Russian word. Formerly a synonym for “lackey” (in pre-revolutionary Russia), in post-revolutionary Russia it is applied almost exclusively to waiters or barmen. It is almost an onomatopoeia that conveys all of the distaste that Russians harbor for waiters. If you are having lunch with a New Russian – a real хмырь – and want to watch his jaw drop, say: “Let’s call the халдей!”

To similarly mesmerize a Russian professor with a colloquialism is considerably more difficult, but still possible. It’s a matter of timing. For instance, if you meet a stereotypical absent-minded professor who is surrounded by piles of dusty books and has trouble focusing, take a deep breath and say: “У вас тут такая катавасия!” Instead of taking offense, the prof will tip his battered hat to you. Катавасия, as it turns out, has a Greek root (katabasis – a canticle sung by two choirs) and means – in a figurative sense, mess, muddle, disorder, piles of problems and troubles.

To the new Russian with whom you supped, such a professor is a грамотей – a good-for-nothing scholar or scribe. Meanwhile, to the professor, the New Russian parvenu is a невежда (ignoramus), who sees little use in knowledge for its own sake.

You can hardly be accused of falling to either of these extremes if you take the trouble of adding these словечки (little words) to your linguistic кондуит, so that you might at some point козырнуть этими словами (literally, to use these words as a trump card).

Now, a грамотей might tell you that кондуит (from the French conduite – conduct, behavior) is hardly a tasty “Russian” word. Plus, it means at best a “conduct sheet,” not a “notebook for new vocabulary.” But, well, in real, modern Russian life, кондуит is now used to mean a thick diary or a heavy notebook where one can store names, data, planned meetings and other information. So there really is no problem storing tasty new Russian words there. All the better so that you can later pronounce them with gusto – со смаком that is…