THE GREAT ESCAPE (1963) | First Escape Attempt | MGM
Kids're just Testing Their Limits --
If you take My Advice, you'll
containThe Problem,
Wait until they grow out of it,
and Don't Be a Jerk about it.
'The Doctor appears in a leather jacket’
And yet as the production date neared, I began to feel uneasy. Whereas in any series there will be discussions over personality and tone - a gradual portrait of the character being painted on a mental canvas - here there was nothing.
'The Doctor appears in a leather jacket’, stated the script for episode one. No more information than that. 'OK,' I thought, 'so he's modern. But that was all that single scrap of information gave me.
I could have looked at any of the old series for a character. It was either a mistake or a virtue, but I didn't. Instead I decided I'd play Russell. Right in front of me was a man who wore a leather jacket and whose brain was genius level, a tinder box of ideas. Russell had energy, he had humour. And there was no one who wanted to be the Doctor more than he did. I took the fizzing of thought in Russell's head and gave it to The Doctor. It wasn't a new tactic. In Our Friends in the North, I decided I would play the writer Peter Flannery. In any Jimmy McGovern drama, I feel like I'm playing Jimmy. With the Doctor, however, while Russell gave me a physical embodiment, the sketchiness of the character in the script still made me feel uneasy. How do I get a handle on this? And if I can't get a handle on it, how can I expect the audience to? It felt like I'd been given a platform I didn't understand. Perhaps I'm not alone in that search for the Doctor. It's an interesting fact about the show that a lot of actors, including myself, have been highly criticised for their performances, for being wacky, zany, or whatever other characteristics they injected into the role. It might be a fundamental flaw in the character that you can never quite get him right.
Russell's real brilliance was in the writing - I'm not sure he knew what he wanted from the Doctor. I don't think he had a very strong take on the character. There was never any discussion, for instance, about me being a 'northern' Doctor. But nobody told me not to and so I did it. As a working-class kid off a council estate, I certainly wasn't going to repeat what had gone before. I thought about people like Alan Tur-ing, the scientist and codebreaker, born in Moss Side and credited by Winston Churchill for shortening the Second World War by two years, and Anthony Burgess, a brilliant and original literary figure, born in Harpurhey, both of whom would have spoken with my accent. I was aware also that, down through time, those with high intelligence, great scientific knowledge, a poetic gift, sensitivity, status, who made it on to radio or TV, had all spoken like the Queen. But brilliant people don't all sound like the narrator on a 1950s newsreel. I knew that for sure because I'd been brought up by two of them, Ronnie and Elsie Eccleston. I was always going to use my accent, and I think, in terms of tone and characterisation, it was one thing that definitely did work. It became a defining part of the Doctor. Just look at that beautiful line that Russell wrote - 'Lots of planets have a north.'
One area where I was definitely on wobbly ground was playing light comedy, an absolute requirement of the role, but one I wasn't used to. I loved comedy but I'd never done any. I'd positioned myself as this overly earnest actor. I wanted to be Hamlet. And to a large extent that was because I felt my mum and dad and so many others of my class hadn't been taken seriously. I wanted to navigate a path where someone of my background would be given that respect. Now, though, I was in a massive role, with massive responsibility, working in a style of light comedy I knew little about. Because hitherto I'd been so dour and serious, so tombstone solemn, when I started smiling on Doctor Who, it looked over the top. 'He's overdoing it. He's Timmy Mallett. Watching it again now with Albert and Esme, I can see that actually, all I was doing, albeit a bit clumsily, was trying to create another character. I'd done it with Nicky Hutchinson in Our Friends in the North, and a dozen other TV characters, and now I was simply trying to create The Doctor.
Russell's great legacy would be the feminisation of the show. As a progressive man, he made Rose an equal, not a sidekick. It is she who, on several occasions, saves the Doctor, rather than the other way round. As can any parent with a daugh-ter, I now look at Esme and think, You could be the Doctor. In 2005, as recently as that, such a thought would have been a pipe dream.
When it came to the Doctor's relationship with Rose, I was occupying the same territory as Russell, firm in my mind that she should never be one of those assistants we'd seen before - women basically there to be awestruck by the Doctor and tell him he's amazing. I knew even before I'd seen anything of the characterisation of Rose what Russell would want to do. I'd already seen it with his depiction of Lesley Sharp's character Judy in The Second Coming, a woman with an independent mind willing to confront received wisdom. In Doctor Who, where that was let down a little was in the kissing between the Doctor and Rose. I never wanted that. I was always against it. I felt it made the relationship too explicit. To me, the Doctor and Rose's love was pure and any physical expression weakened that precious commodity.
Myself and Billie Piper had a chemistry that allowed the relationship between Rose and the Doctor to live in the mind of both them and the viewer. Better preserve that than make it too obvious. In my view, the Doctor loved this person - not this woman - and that was a trait of the Doctor I clung on to for all thirteen episodes.
Billie was magnificent as Rose. I knew she was good at the time but looking back now I can see her absolute brilliance. It reminds me how much we loved working together, which is palpably obvious on screen. Actors work at chemistry; it doesn't just come with a snap of the fingers, but we were fortunate enough to have something there from the start. We were also professionals and knew how to achieve onscreen banter. What truly amazes me is I know how nervous Billie was at the start.
She thought I was some big serious performer and she didn't have the belief in herself as an actor. She proved herself, of course, to be way better than any of the rest of us. Her luminosity on screen comes from herself, not those around her, and instinctively she made Rose exactly the person she should be. When Doctor Who won a BAFTA for Best Drama, it was Billie for whom I was truly delighted. The reception she got when the show was screened made any lingering reservations on her part about her ability evaporate. It was admirable in her that she had zero arrogance that she could do it. The work she has done since has shown her to be worthy of every accolade that comes her way.
Watching our characters now reinforces what I concluded at the time: Russell enjoys writing more for women than he does for men. If so, I'm glad - there's been a lot of writing for men. Rose arrives on screen fully formed, one of the strongest female characters of any show of any year, painting a solid line leading directly to Jodie Whittaker. If you think about it, the relaunch in 2005 was actually the chance to create the first female Doctor. Why not do it then? Perhaps, really, we should be looking back on Billie Piper not as Rose but as The Doctor.
Billie made Doctor Who a delight but so also did Steven Moffat's scripts, which delivered my best work, bringing me closer to finally knowing exactly who the Doctor was than any other time during the shoot. Directors Joe Ahearne and Euros Lyn also allowed the character to blossom and thrive. I loved Joe. If he'd directed the show from day one, I'd probably still be playing the Doctor now. Joe, like Euros and Steven, had really done his homework. He spoke with the passion of a proper fan who had the knowledge that Doctor Who, along with comic books and sci-fi, is drawing on the bigger-picture stories of Greek myth. There's a hugely intellectual and emotional content to that kind of output. If a director doesn't get that, they shouldn't be anywhere near the show.
Doctor Who has left its mark on me. People from both inside and outside the industry still say, 'I don't know why you did it in the first place. It just didn't seem to fit. That reaction comes from my departure, which was enormously negative for me.
Yes, I have felt bitter, and yes, I have felt betrayed, but I know also that Doctor Who was the best thing that, professionally, ever happened to me, not so much a learning curve as a plunge down a well and a long climb towards the sunshine I see now.
These days, I feel nothing but positive about the show, to the extent I have even started doing conventions, something I'd been wary of because I always wanted to earn my money from acting. What I've actually found is some amazing people who want to talk to me not only about Doctor Who but Our Friends in the North, 28 Days Later, Second Coming, Shallow Grave, Cracker, and so on. People bring memorabilia from across my whole career, which makes me feel good about my work and also about myself. It has healed something in me. Forget producers, forget politics - here are real people who have seen me do my stuff and want to shake my hand.
I sat here with my children again last night and watched myself. At first, some familiar nagging thoughts were apparent. Wow, I pondered, you're young, and you have no idea what this is going to do to you.
As the minutes passed, though, I felt more upbeat about what I was viewing. I can see what you're trying to do here, I thought, even if you're overdoing it a bit. At other times, I'd think, That was all right - you're actually pulling this off. I was watching it from a distance - and enjoying it. I liked what I was seeing.
So when anyone, including myself, tries to tell me Doctor Who wasn't a good fit, I tell them straight - 'But that's exactly why I did it'I did something positive. The role - posh, received pronunciation - needed changing.
"....while trying to find Our Way out of The Room, We discovered A Window, overlooking The Main Laboratory --"
Today, The Kaled Race is ended,
consumed in a fire of war,
but from its ashes will rise a new race,
the supreme creature, the ultimate
conqueror of The Universe,
The DALEK!
The Aktion you take today
is the beginning of a journey that
will take the Daleks to their Destiny
of universal and absolute Supremacy.
You have been conditioned and
programmed to complete A Task.
You will now carry out that programme.
DALEK :
We obey.
Destiny (n.)
mid-14c., "fate, over-rulingnecessity, the irresistible tendency of certain events to come about; inexorable force that shapes and controls lives and events;" also "that which is predetermined and sure to come True," from Old French destinée "purpose, intent, fate, destiny; that which is destined" (12c.), noun use of fem. past participle of destiner, from Latin destinare"make firm, establish" (see destination).
The sense is of "that which has been firmly established," as by fate. Especially "what is to befall any person or thing in the future" (mid-15c.). In Greek and Roman mythology, personified as the three Fates or powers supposed to preside over human life. Related entries & more fatal (adj.) ldlate 14c., "decreed by fate," also "fraught with fate," from O French fatal (14c.) and directly from Latin fatalis "ordained by fate, decreed, destined; of or belonging to fate or destiny; destructive, deadly," from fatum (see fate (n.)). Original senses are obsolete; the meaning "causing or attended with death" in English is from early 15c. Meaning "concerned with or dealing with destiny" is from mid-15c. necessitate (v.) 1620s, "force irresistably, compel, oblige," also "make necessary, render unavoidable," from Medieval Latin necessitatus, past participle of necessitare "to render necessary," from Latin necessitas "compulsion; destiny" (see necessity). Earlier verb in English was necessen (late 14c.). Related: Necessitated; necessitates; necessitating.
fado (n.) popular music style of Portugal, 1902, from Latin fatum "fate, destiny" (see fate (n.)). Because the songs tell the fates of their subjects. The music itself is from the earlier lundum, popular late 18c.-early 19c., said to be of African origin via Angola or Brazil. sortilege (n.) "act or practice of drawing lots," late 14c., "divination, sorcery," from Old French sortilege, from Medieval Latin sortilegium "divination by lots," from Latin sortem (nominative sors) "lot; fate, destiny; share, portion" (see sort (n.1)). Related: Sortileger; sortilegious; sortilegy.
fatality (n.) late 15c., "quality of causing death," from French fatalité, from Late Latin fatalitatem (nominative fatalitas) "fatal necessity, fatality," from Latin fatalis "ordained by fate; destructive, deadly" (see fatal). Senses in 16c.-17c. included "determined by fate" and "a destiny." Meaning "an occurrence resulting in widespread death" is from 1840. Related: Fatalities. Related entries & more sortition (n.) "casting or drawing of lots," 1590s, from Latin sortitionem (nominative sortitio) "a choosing or determining by lot," noun of action from past-participle stem of sortior "to draw lots," from sortem (nominative sors) "lot; fate, destiny; share, portion; rank, category; sex, class, oracular response, prophecy" (from PIE root *ser- (2) "to line up"). Related entries & more dree (v.) "to suffer, bear, endure," Old English dreogan "to work, suffer, endure" (see drudge (v.)). Phrase dree one's weird "abide one's fate or destiny" is from 14c. Perhaps from a tendency to be confused with draw, the verb faded from use but lingered in North of England and Scottish dialect and was revived as an archaism by Scott and his imitators. Related entries & more fate (n.) late 14c., "one's lot or destiny; predetermined course of life;" also "one's guiding spirit," from Old French fate and directly from Latin fata (source also of Spanish hado, Portuguese fado, Italian fato), neuter plural of fatum "prophetic declaration of what must be, oracle, prediction," thus the Latin word's usual sense, "that which is ordained, destiny, fate," literally "thing spoken (by the gods)," from neuter past participle of fari "to speak," from PIE root *bha- (2) "to speak, tell, say." Often in a bad sense in Latin: "bad luck, ill fortune; mishap, ruin; a pest or plague."
From early 15c. as "power that rules destinies, agency which predetermines events; supernatural predetermination;" also "destiny personified." Meaning "that which must be" is from 1660s; sense of "final event" is from 1768. The Latin sense evolution is from "sentence of the Gods" (Greek theosphaton) to "lot, portion" (Greek moira, personified as a goddess in Homer).
The sense of "one of the three goddesses (Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos) who determined the course of a human life" (or, as Blount has it, "the three Ladies of destiny") is in English by 1580s. Their Greek name was Moirai (see above), from a verb meaning "to receive one's share." Latin Parca "one of the three Fates or goddesses of fate" (source of French parque "a Fate;" Spanish parca "Death personified; the Grim Reaper") might be from parcere "act sparingly, refrain from; have mercy upon, forbear to injure or punish" (if so, probably here a euphemism) or plectere "to weave, plait." The native word in English was wyrd (see weird).
J'y suivais un serpent qui venait de me mordre Quel repli de désirs, sa traîne!...Quel désordre De trésors s'arrachant à mon avidité, Et quelle sombre soif de la limpidité!
-- Paul Valéry,
from La Jeune Parque
Related entries & more assort (v.) late 15c., "to distribute into groups or classes," from Old French assorter "to assort, match" (15c., Modern French assortir), from a- "to" (see ad-) + sorte "kind, category," from Latin sortem (nominative sors) "lot; fate, destiny; share, portion; rank, category; sex, class, oracular response, prophecy" (from PIE root *ser- (2) "to line up"). Related: Assorted; assorting.
Related entries & more weird (adj.) c. 1400, "having power to control fate," from wierd (n.), from Old English wyrd "fate, chance, fortune; destiny; the Fates," literally "that which comes," from Proto-Germanic *wurthiz (source also of Old Saxon wurd, Old High German wurt "fate," Old Norse urðr "fate, one of the three Norns"), from PIE *wert- "to turn, to wind," (source also of German werden, Old English weorðan "to become"), from root *wer- (2) "to turn, bend." For the sense development from "turning" to "becoming," compare phrase turn into "become."
The sense of "uncanny, supernatural" developed from Middle English use of weird sisters for the three Fates or Norns (in Germanic mythology), the goddesses who controlled human destiny. They were portrayed as odd or frightening in appearance, as in "Macbeth" (and especially in 18th and 19th century productions of it), which led to the adjectival meaning "odd-looking, uncanny" (1815); "odd, strange, disturbingly different" (1820). Also see Macbeth. Related: Weirdly; weirdness.
Related entries & more *(s)mer- (2) Proto-Indo-European root meaning "to get a share of something."
It forms all or part of : demerit; emeritus; isomer; isomeric; meretricious; merism; meristem; merit; meritorious; mero-; monomer; Moira; polymer; turmeric.
It is the hypothetical source of/evidence for its existence is provided by: Greek meros "part, lot," moira "share, fate," moros "fate, destiny, doom;" Hittite mark "to divide" a sacrifice; Latin merere, meriri "to earn, deserve, acquire, gain."
Related entries & more influence (n.) late 14c., an astrological term, "streaming ethereal power from the stars when in certain positions, acting upon character or destiny of men," from Old French influence"emanation from the stars that acts upon one's character and destiny" (13c.), also "a flow of water, a flowing in," from Medieval Latin influentia"a flowing in"(also used in the astrological sense), from Latin influentem (nominative influens), present participle of influere"to flow into, stream in, pour in," from in-"into, in, on, upon" (from PIE root *en "in") + fluere"to flow" (see fluent).
The range of senses in Middle English was non-personal, in reference to any outflowing of energy that produces effect, of fluid or vaporous substance as well as immaterial or unobservable forces. Meaning "exertion of unseen influence by persons" is from 1580s (a sense already in Medieval Latin, for instance Aquinas); meaning "capacity for producing effects by insensible or invisible means" is from 1650s. Under the influence (of alcohol, etc.) "drunk" first attested 1866.
Related entries & more sort (v.) mid-14c., sorten, "to arrange according to type or quality," c. 1400, "to classify by category," from Old French sortir"allot, sort, assort," from Latin sortiri"draw lots, divide, choose," from sors"lot, what is allotted; fate, destiny; share, portion" (see sort (n.)). In some senses, the verb is from the noun, or it is a shortened form of assort. Often with out (adv.). By 1948 as "resolve (a problem), clear up (a confusion)."
Related : Sorted; sorter; sorting. portion (n.) early 14c., porcioun, "allotted part, part assigned or attributed, share," also "lot, fate, destiny," from Old French porcion"part, portion" (12c., Modern French portion) and directly from Latin portionem (nominative portio) "share, part," accusative of the noun in the phrase pro portione"according to the relation (of parts to each other)," ablative of *partio"division," related to pars"a part, piece, a share, a division" (from PIE root *pere- (2) "to grant, allot").
Meaning "a part of a whole" is from mid-14c. From late 14c. in the general sense of "section into which something is divided."
mazel tov (interj.) Jewish salutation, 1862, from modern Hebrew mazzal tob"good luck, good fortune," literally "good star," from Hebrew mazzaloth (plural) "constellations," also "destiny" (compare schlemazel). Probably to English via Yiddish. disaster (n.) Origin and meaning of disaster "anything that befalls of ruinous or distressing nature; any unfortunate event," especially a sudden or great misfortune, 1590s, from French désastre (1560s), from Italian disastro, literally "ill-starred," from dis-, here merely pejorative, equivalent to English mis- "ill" (see dis-) + astro "star, planet," from Latin astrum, from Greek astron "star" (from PIE root *ster- (2) "star").
The sense is astrological, of a calamity blamed on an unfavorable position of a planet, and "star" here is probably meant in the astrological sense of "destiny, fortune, fate." Compare Medieval Latin astrum sinistrum "misfortune," literally "unlucky star," and English ill-starred. necessity (n.) late 14c., necessite, "constraining power of circumstances; compulsion (physical or moral), the opposite of liberty; a condition requisite for the attainment of any purpose," from Old French necessité"need, necessity; privation, poverty; distress, torment; obligation, duty" (12c.), from Latin necessitatem (nominative necessitas) "compulsion, need for attention, unavoidableness, destiny," from necesse (see necessary). Meaning "condition of being in need, want of the means of living" in English is from late 14c.
Necessity is the Mother of Invention.
-- Richard Franck, c. 1624-1708,
English author and angler,
"Northern Memoirs," 1658
To maken vertu of necessite is in Chaucer.
Related: Necessities. kismet (n.) "fate, destiny," 1834, from Turkish qismet, from Arabic qismah, qismat"portion, lot, fate," from root of qasama"he divided."
From a nation of enthusiasts and conquerors, the Osmanlis became a nation of sleepers and smokers. They came into Europe with the sword in one hand and the Koran in the other : were they driven out of their encampment, it would be with the Koran in one hand and the pipe in the other, crying: 'Kismet! Kismet! Allah kehrim!' (God hath willed it! God is great!)
-- Dr. James O. Noyes,
"The Ottoman Empire,"
"The Knickerbocker," October 1858
Popularized as the title of a novel in 1877. Moira fem. proper name, also the name of one of the Fates, from Greek Moira, literally "share, fate," related to moros "fate, destiny, doom," meros "part, lot," meiresthai "to receive one's share" (from PIE root *(s)mer- (2) "to get a share of something"). Related entries & more manifest (adj.) Origin and meaning of manifest late 14c., "clearly revealed to the eye or the understanding, open to view or comprehension," from Old French manifest "evident, palpable," (12c.), or directly from Latin manifestus "plainly apprehensible, clear, apparent, evident;" of offenses, "proved by direct evidence;" of offenders, "caught in the act," probably from manus"hand" (from PIE root *man- (2) "hand") + -festus, which apparently is identical to the second element of infest.
De Vaan writes, "If manifestus may be interpreted as 'caught by hand', the meanings seem to point to 'grabbing' or 'attacking' for -festus." But he finds none of the proposed ulterior connections compelling, and concludes that, regarding infestus and manifestus, "maybe the two must be separated." If not, the sense development might be from "caught by hand" to "in hand, palpable."
Manifest destiny, "that which clearly appears destined to come to pass; a future state, condition, or event which can be foreseen with certainty, or is regarded as inevitable" was much used in American politics from about the time of the Mexican War "by those who believed that the United States were destined in time to occupy the entire continent" -- Century Dictionary.
Other nations have tried to check ... the fulfillment of our manifest destiny to overspread the Continent allotted by Providence for the free development of our yearly multiplying millions.
-- John O'Sullivan (1813-1895),
"U.S. Magazine & Democratic Review," July 1845
The phrase apparently is O'Sullivan's coinage; the notion is as old as the republic.
doom (n.) Middle English doome, from Old English dom"a law, statute, decree; administration of justice, judgment; justice, equity, righteousness," from Proto-Germanic *domaz (source also of Old Saxon and Old Frisian dom, Old Norse domr, Old High German tuom"judgment, decree," Gothic doms"discernment, distinction"), perhaps from PIE root *dhe-"to set, place, put, do" (source also of Sanskrit dhaman- "law," Greek themis "law," Lithuanian domė "attention").
Originally in a neutral sense but sometimes also "a decision determining fate or fortune, irrevocable destiny." A book of laws in Old English was a dombec. Modern adverse sense of "fate, ruin, destruction" begins early 14c. and is general after c. 1600, from doomsday and the finality of the Christian Judgment. Crack of Doom is the last trump, the signal for the dissolution of all things. meet (v.) Middle English mēten, from Old English metan "to find, find out; fall in with, encounter, come into the same place with; obtain," from Proto-Germanic *motjanan (source also of Old Norse mæta, Old Frisian meta, Old Saxon motian "to meet," Gothic gamotijan), from PIE root *mod- "to meet, assemble." Related to Old English gemot "meeting." By c. 1300, of things, "to come into physical contact with, join by touching or uniting with;" also, of persons, "come together by approaching from the opposite direction; come into collision with, combat." Abstractly, "to come upon, encounter (as in meet with approval, meet one's destiny) by late 14c. Sense of "come into conformity with, be or act in agreement with" (as in meet expectations) is by 1690s. Intransitive sense, of people, "to come together" is from mid-14c.; of members of an organized body or society, "to assemble," by 1520s. Related: Met; meeting. To meet (someone) halfway in the figurative sense "make mutual and equal concessions to" is from 1620s. Well met as a salutation of compliment is by mid-15c. Related entries & more sort (n.) late 14c., sorte, "group of people, animals, etc.; kind or variety of person or animal," from Old French sorte "class, kind," from Latin sortem (nominative sors) "lot; fate, destiny; share, portion; rank, category; sex, class, oracular response, prophecy," from PIE root *ser- (2) "to line up." The sense evolution in Vulgar Latin is from "what is allotted to one by fate," to "fortune, condition," to "rank, class, order." Later (mid-15c.) also "group, class, or category of items; kind or variety of thing; pattern, design." The classical sense of "fate or lot of a particular person" was in Middle English but is now obsolete. The computing sense of "act of arranging (data) in sequence" is by 1958, from the verb. Related to assort, consort, sorcery, but not resort. Colloquial sort of as a qualifier expressing hesitation or "to some extent" is attested by 1790; sometimes contracted to sorta, sorter. Out of sorts "not in usual good condition" is attested from 1620s, perhaps with a literal sense of "out of stock, out of equipment." In the original citation it is paired with out of tune. The type-setting sort is attested only from 1660s. Related entries & more *wer- (2) Proto-Indo-European root forming words meaning "to turn, bend." It forms all or part of: adverse; anniversary; avert; awry; controversy; converge; converse (adj.) "exact opposite;" convert; diverge; divert; evert; extroversion; extrovert; gaiter; introrse; introvert; invert; inward; malversation; obverse; peevish; pervert; prose; raphe; reverberate; revert; rhabdomancy; rhapsody; rhombus; ribald; sinistrorse; stalwart; subvert; tergiversate; transverse; universe; verbena; verge (v.1) "tend, incline;" vermeil; vermicelli; vermicular; vermiform; vermin; versatile; verse (n.) "poetry;" version; verst; versus; vertebra; vertex; vertigo; vervain; vortex; -ward; warp; weird; worm; worry; worth (adj.) "significant, valuable, of value;" worth (v.) "to come to be;" wrangle; wrap; wrath; wreath; wrench; wrest; wrestle; wriggle; wring; wrinkle; wrist; writhe; wrong; wroth; wry. It is the hypothetical source of/evidence for its existence is provided by: Sanskrit vartate "turns round, rolls;" Avestan varet- "to turn;" Hittite hurki- "wheel;" Greek rhatane "stirrer, ladle;" Latin vertere (frequentative versare) "to turn, turn back, be turned; convert, transform, translate; be changed," versus "turned toward or against;" Old Church Slavonic vrŭteti "to turn, roll," Russian vreteno "spindle, distaff;" Lithuanian verčiu, versti "to turn;" German werden, Old English weorðan "to become;" Old English -weard "toward," originally "turned toward," weorthan "to befall," wyrd "fate, destiny," literally "what befalls one;" Welsh gwerthyd "spindle, distaff;" Old Irish frith "against." Related entries & more astrology (n.) late 14c., "calculation and foretelling based on observation of heavenly bodies," from Latin astrologia "astronomy, the science of the heavenly bodies," from Greek astrologia "astronomy," literally "a telling of the stars," from astron "star" (from PIE root *ster- (2) "star") + -logia "treating of" (see -logy). Originally identical with astronomy and including scientific observation and description. The special sense of "astronomy applied to prediction of events" was divided into natural astrology "the calculation and foretelling of natural phenomenon" (tides, eclipses, dates of Church festivals, etc.), and judicial astrology "the art of judging occult influences of stars and planets on human affairs."
In Latin and later Greek, astronomia tended to be more scientific than astrologia. In English, the differentiation between astrology and astronomy began late 1400s and by late 17c. this word was limited to the sense of "reading influences of the stars and their effects on human destiny."
And consequently, an Astrology in the World before Astronomy, either in Name or Science. so that ( Non obstante whatever any Astronomer shall oppose to the contrary) Astrology hath the right of Primogeniture. And all the Sober and Judiciously Learned must needs acknowledge the Truth hereof.—Howbeit, it were to be wished that the Astrologer understood Astronomy, and that the Astronomer were acquainted with Astrology: Although I do in truth despair of ever finding many to be so happily Accomplished. [John Gadbury, introduction to "Ephemerides of the Celestial Motions," London, 1672]
It is ... an extremely just observation of M. Comte, that [the study of astrology] marks the first systematic effort to frame a philosophy of history by reducing the apparently capricious phenomena of human actions within the domain of law. It may, however, I think, be no less justly regarded as one of the last struggles of human egotism against the depressing sense of insignificance which the immensity of the universe must produce. [W.E.H. Lecky, "History of the Rise and Influence of the Spirit of Rationalism in Europe," 1866] Related entries & more lot (n.) Old English hlot "object used to determine someone's share" (anything from dice to straw, but often a chip of wood with a name inscribed on it), also "what falls to a person by lot," from Proto-Germanic *khlutom (source also of Old Norse hlutr "lot, share," Old Frisian hlot "lot," Old Saxon hlot, Middle Dutch, Dutch lot, Old High German hluz "share of land," German Los), from a strong verb (the source of Old English hleotan "to cast lots, obtain by lot; to foretell"). The whole group is of unknown origin. The object was placed with others in a receptacle (such as a hat or helmet), which was shaken, the winner being the one whose name or mark was on the lot that fell out first. Hence the expression cast lots; to cast (one's) lot with another (1530s, originally biblical) is to agree to share winnings. In some cases the lots were drawn by hand, hence to draw lots. The word was adopted from Germanic into the Romanic languages (Spanish lote, and compare lottery, lotto). Meaning "choice resulting from the casting of lots" first attested c. 1200. Meaning "share or portion of life" in any way, "that which is given by fate, God or destiny" is from c. 1300. Meaning "number of persons or things of the same kind" is from 1570s (compare Latin mala merx, of persons, literally "a bad lot"). Sense of "plot of land" is first recorded 1630s, American English (distribution of the most desirable properties in new settlements often was determined by casting lots), then especially "parcel of land set aside for a specified purpose" (the Hollywood sense is from 1928). The common U.S. city lot was a rectangle 25 feet wide (along the street) by 100 deep; it was so universal as to be sometimes a unit of measure. Meaning "group, collection" is 1725, from the notion of auction lots. Lots in the generalized sense of "great many" is attested by 1812; lotsa, colloquial for "lots of," is from 1927; lotta for "lot of" is by 1906. Related entries & more fairy (n.) c. 1300, fairie, "the country or home of supernatural or legendary creatures; fairyland," also "something incredible or fictitious," from Old French faerie "land of fairies, meeting of fairies; enchantment, magic, witchcraft, sorcery" (12c.), from fae "fay," from Latin fata "the Fates," plural of fatum "that which is ordained; destiny, fate," from PIE root *bha- (2) "to speak, tell, say." Also compare fate (n.), also fay.
In ordinary use an elf differs from a fairy only in generally seeming young, and being more often mischievous. [Century Dictionary]
But that was before Tolkien. As a type of supernatural being from late 14c. [contra Tolkien; for example "This maketh that ther been no fairyes" in "Wife of Bath's Tale"], perhaps via intermediate forms such as fairie knight "supernatural or legendary knight" (c. 1300), as in Spenser, where faeries are heroic and human-sized. As a name for the diminutive winged beings in children's stories from early 17c.
Yet I suspect that this flower-and-butterfly minuteness was also a product of "rationalization," which transformed the glamour of Elfland into mere finesse, and invisibility into a fragility that could hide in a cowslip or shrink behind a blade of grass. It seems to become fashionable soon after the great voyages had begun to make the world seem too narrow to hold both men and elves; when the magic land of Hy Breasail in the West had become the mere Brazils, the land of red-dye-wood.
-- J.R.R. Tolkien,
"On Fairy-Stories," 1947
Hence, figurative adjective use in reference to lightness, fineness, delicacy. Slang meaning "effeminate male homosexual" is recorded by 1895. Fairy ring, of certain fungi in grass fields (as we would explain it now), is from 1590s. Fairy godmother attested from 1820. Fossil Cretaceous sea urchins found on the English downlands were called fairy loaves, and a book from 1787 reports that "country people" in England called the stones of the old Roman roads fairy pavements.
