Today in safe and easy French, clever retort à tes souhaits “as you wish or suit yourself” with pronominal contraction tes > t’s followed by articulatory palat(al)ization of initial fricative s > sh could very well sound like a quaint, insignificant sneeze [aˈʧwε]; perhaps more akin to our colloquial manner of speech, however, your onomatopoeic interjection achoo sports one titillating variety of recognized spellings. Intermittent sneezing at first appears to be this flattering askance used in polite 17.cent Europe, thereby contributing to history’s golden age of sternutative herbs & piquant snuff, “Achoo!” But personal hygiene and changing rapport over three hundred years so intervened to find Old Sneeze quite properly lodged in the same quarters with derisive scoff and verbal insult: “Nothing to sneeze at,” would in due turn become something other to say than just negative.
Sneezing typically occurs when foreign particles or sufficient external stimulants pass through the nasal hairs to reach the nasal mucosa. This triggers the release of histamines, which irritate the nerve cells in the nose, resulting in signals being sent to the brain to initiate the sneeze through the trigeminal nerve network. The brain then relates this initial signal, activates the pharyngeal and tracheal muscles and creates a large opening of the nasal and oral cavities, resulting in a powerful release of air and bioparticles. The reason behind the particularly powerful nature of a sneeze is attributed to its involvement of not simply the nose and mouth, but numerous organs of the upper body – it is a reflectory response that involves the muscles of the face, throat, and chest.
Onomatopoeia
Some common English onomatopoeias for the sneeze sound are achoo, atchoo, achew, and atishoo, with the first syllable corresponding to the sudden intake of air, and the second to the sound of the sneeze.
A similar linguistic approach has been taken with several other languages; in French, the sound “Atchoum!” is used; in Finnish “Atsiuh!”; in Icelandic “Atsjú!”; in Swedish “Atjo”; in Danish “Atju!”; in Dutch “Hatsjoe!” or “Hatsjie!”; in Hebrew and Lithuanian “Apchi!”; in German “Hatschie!”; in Estonian “Atsihh!” and “Aptsihh!”; in Hungarian “Hapci!”; in Polish, “Apsik!”; in Russian , “Apchkhi!”; in Turkish, “Hapşu!”; in Italian, “Etciù!”; in Spanish “¡Achís!”; in Portuguese, “Atchim!”; in Romanian “Hapciu!” ; in Malayalam “Thummal”; in Filipino “Hatsing!”; in Japanese, “Hakushon!”; in Tamil, “Thummal”; in Kannada, “Akshi”; in Korean, “Achee!” and in Vietnamese, “Hát-xì!!”. In Cypriot Greek, the word is “Apshoo!”, incidentally also the name of a village, which is the cause of much mirth locally.
In Howards End, by E.M. Forster, a sneeze in polite society is “A-tissue” - a literary allusion to its respective remedy.
I am unable to prduce a gentle sneeze. My feet fly out from under me, and I usually kick something or someone. In high school, I kicked a lecturn from under my English teacher.
I am unable to prduce a gentle sneeze. My feet fly out from under me, and I usually kick something or someone. In high school, I kicked a lecturn from under my English teacher.
She never liked me after that.
That’s pretty bad. Well I love to sneeze.. I love the feeling… ^^ By the way, Does any of you ever tried sneezing with your eyes open? Just want to know.
I am unable to prduce a gentle sneeze. My feet fly out from under me, and I usually kick something or someone. In high school, I kicked a lecturn from under my English teacher.
She never liked me after that.
That’s pretty bad. Well I love to sneeze.. I love the feeling… ^^ By the way,
Does any of you ever tried sneezing with your eyes open?
Just want to know.
I think that is pretty much of an impossibility, no???? Well maybe not in Appalachia or Piedmont.
