I mentioned Hop initially before editing it out. It is in fact an Easter movie, but not a good one
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not to be pretentious but yall should really read this… C.H.A.T. (Come Here for All Talk)
- Thread starter Astra
- Start date
In my head, the third big holiday is Thanksgiving. I realize this doesn't apply outside of the United States, but Christmas and Halloween also aren't celebrated everywhere.
Tbf my comment could just as easily be applied to Thanksgiving with the added bonus of the holiday having developed much more sociopolitical baggage in the last 10/15/20ish years or so. Valentines is a special case since any romance movie can be applied to it, just pick your favorite
I think it's that Halloween and Christmas have transcended religious/national importance and have become cultural phenomenons. (Like, Brazil celebrates the snowy American depiction of Xmas, despite being Summer in the southern hemisphere with no chance of snow.)
Both have solid non-religious traditions that even kids can understand, coupled with a theme of spooky or snowy. These are good attributes for movies; they might as well be their own genres.
Both have solid non-religious traditions that even kids can understand, coupled with a theme of spooky or snowy. These are good attributes for movies; they might as well be their own genres.
Same was actually gonna say that
But I think it’s more Halloween and Christmas and then like thanksgiving and Easter.
Easter is like smaller Halloween
And thanksgiving feels like smaller Christmas
is zootopia an easter movie
No
When does the like shop stuff expire? This mystery box taught me I need to save my pfp since I don’t have it saved anywhere else anymore.
Hiiii Ado talks about a specific moment in media again! But first background.
I've been thinking about The Princess and the Frog recently. You know, the one with the ShaDow MaN?
Yeah that one. I've been getting a little into it, even rode its sequel ride to Splash Mountain in Disney World. (Loved it.) I think the movie suffers from a bit of what I'll call Super Paper Mario Syndrome, where a lot of its craft is ignored in discourse to further glaze the cool looksmaxxing hype aurafarmer. One reason I appreciate Princess and SPM is their aura farmers also take on storytelling roles. (For SPM, I talk more about Dimentio here.)
Princess uses the ShaDow MaN and his good counterpart, Mama Odie, to communicate its messages on want (represented by HiM) and need (represented by Odie). (She's in the left of the poster. I'm not doing the circles bit again.) I'll highlight two I like.
(The video will start at the relevant part, 1:35 to 1:54, but the whole song is a bop.)
Naveen, once the shallow playboy millionaire, is mesmerized by a dancing frog, because that frog is a wonderful light-filled someone just having fun as her authentic self, whatever body she happens to be in. That deeper beauty hits him like an arrow. The song's going on, Frog Tiana dominates the spotlight, and he's just fully immersed in the background. There's absolutely zero pretense to paper over the authenticity with any jokiness about the haha quirky dancing frog, or to pretend the frog body serves here as a sex object, from the writers or for Naveen.
That sex object part actually spills into a reason I personally love this scene. If you find her frog form sexy, like, power to you, that's great, have fun. Frog Tiana not having sex object appeal to Naveen or the writers doesn't mean she lacks that appeal to everyone.
The idea is that she and Naveen don't need that. Sex appeal, of human or froggy bodies, is a want. And, as someone with a lot of identity entanglements around alternate forms (note this, that), this scene means a lot to me. A lot of online discussion and art around these alternate body ideas is pretty objectifying and sexual - see the monsterfuckers for example - and like. That objectification is (usually) all cool on its own, it's rad to find unusual forms sexy and express that, and it can help the confidence of people who have or sympathize with unusual forms (even nonsexual me). But it's important to have the non-sexy side of the coin, too.
ShaDow MaN
I've been thinking about The Princess and the Frog recently. You know, the one with the ShaDow MaN?
Yeah that one. I've been getting a little into it, even rode its sequel ride to Splash Mountain in Disney World. (Loved it.) I think the movie suffers from a bit of what I'll call Super Paper Mario Syndrome, where a lot of its craft is ignored in discourse to further glaze the cool looksmaxxing hype aurafarmer. One reason I appreciate Princess and SPM is their aura farmers also take on storytelling roles. (For SPM, I talk more about Dimentio here.)
Princess uses the ShaDow MaN and his good counterpart, Mama Odie, to communicate its messages on want (represented by HiM) and need (represented by Odie). (She's in the left of the poster. I'm not doing the circles bit again.) I'll highlight two I like.
- Needs are stronger than wants - needs help make and engender who you are, while wants are ephemeral. These two counterparts, then, are not equally strong. Mama Odie effortlessly and flippantly whips the MaN's shadowy loa servants.
- Because wants are ephemeral, they can undermine themselves. You can lose what you need pursuing them, and end up in situations where you don't get what you want. Naveen wants to be rich again but doesn't pay enough attention to his needs, which lets a certain HuckSteR manipulate him into becoming a frog.
(The video will start at the relevant part, 1:35 to 1:54, but the whole song is a bop.)
Naveen, once the shallow playboy millionaire, is mesmerized by a dancing frog, because that frog is a wonderful light-filled someone just having fun as her authentic self, whatever body she happens to be in. That deeper beauty hits him like an arrow. The song's going on, Frog Tiana dominates the spotlight, and he's just fully immersed in the background. There's absolutely zero pretense to paper over the authenticity with any jokiness about the haha quirky dancing frog, or to pretend the frog body serves here as a sex object, from the writers or for Naveen.
That sex object part actually spills into a reason I personally love this scene. If you find her frog form sexy, like, power to you, that's great, have fun. Frog Tiana not having sex object appeal to Naveen or the writers doesn't mean she lacks that appeal to everyone.
The idea is that she and Naveen don't need that. Sex appeal, of human or froggy bodies, is a want. And, as someone with a lot of identity entanglements around alternate forms (note this, that), this scene means a lot to me. A lot of online discussion and art around these alternate body ideas is pretty objectifying and sexual - see the monsterfuckers for example - and like. That objectification is (usually) all cool on its own, it's rad to find unusual forms sexy and express that, and it can help the confidence of people who have or sympathize with unusual forms (even nonsexual me). But it's important to have the non-sexy side of the coin, too.
ShaDow MaN
And now for something completely different!
To look at geography from an unfamiliar perspective, I remade the map of Europe by giving every country a new English name, one that reasonably could have emerged instead of what we got.
Abbreviations west to east: Cimrack, South Basse, Bockville, Helvetica, East Dutchland, Blackhill, Dardania, Spinosija.
Slavonia is unfortunately unlabeled (between E.D. and Hervat). I intended to include Abkhazia and South Ossetia but forgot, but maybe they better fit a hypothetical Asia version anyway.
OK. How did we get here?
Like modern English names, these come from an eclectic distribution of roots. Various languages subject to varying evolution and displacement, like Latin, Old Norse, Old English, and the native languages of the countries. Various described features, like groups of people, historical events, and notable geography. Some funny stories and coincidences, some misconceptions. Varying times of Anglophone discovery and name adoption, and varying levels of localization efforts and care.
To get the new names, I'm tweaking how these factors got used. Maybe instead of pulling form Old Norse, it pulls from Old English. Maybe it resembles the native name more or less. Historical circumstances differed. Maybe a combination of these. You get the idea. I didn't get the 10 doctorates and 1000 hours to do this perfect - I'm sure I misunderstood linguistic evolution here and there, and some of this is ultimately vibes – but I gave an honest fun shot. (I also didn't include the micros because this already took a while lol.)
Below, I'll talk about each name, how it got there, and how it differs from the current name. The countries are grouped by region, roughly west to east.
Portica Portugal
Portugal: City of Portus Cale (Latin) -> Portugal (Portuguese and English)
The new name takes the same big picture process of combination, but slightly different evolution gives an English name with more English influence and less intermediate Germanic / Romance influence.
The city of Portus Cale is now Porto, which is similarly snappy to the new Portica.
Leporia Spain
Spain: Hispania (Latin) -> España (Spanish) -> Spain (English)
Here, Spain's Latin name instead came from lepus, meaning rabbit. Under Roman, and possibly prior Carthaginian, control, Spain was known as the land of the rabbits. The specific form Leporia resembles the modern name for the taxonomical family of rabbits, Leporidae.
Carland France
France: Frank (Germanic group) -> Francia (Latin) -> France
Here, France's Latin name instead came from Charlemagne (Carolus Magnus in Latin) and his namesake Carolingian dynasty. Countries named after individual figures are rare, but not absent (Bolivia comes to mind), and Charlemagne has the influence and prestige to make it. Additionally, the English "-land" suffix replaced the Latin "-ia," as with Polonia -> Poland.
Looking through my finished map, I was initially skeptical in how many countries ended with suffixes like "-land" and "-ia", but my familiarity with existing names was bending the lens. Yes, those suffixes are actually that common!
-land: Iceland, Ireland, England*, Scotland*, Switzerland, Poland, Finland (7, versus 8 in mine)
-ia: Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia (... and Herzegovina), Serbia, Albania, North Macedonia, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Bulgaria, Romania, Russia (12, versus 10-11 in mine)
Patria Italy
Italy: Italia (Roman province), anglicized to Italy
This was actually my hardest one. One benefit of the name Italy is that it didn't privilege any one of the constituent kingdoms and entities of Italian unification. I preserve that idea, and Italy's effort to draw on the Roman province, with Patria "fatherland." This references the Roman honorary title "Father of the Fatherland," which was bestowed in Italian form on the first king of united Italy, Victor Emmanuel.
Saxony England
England: From Old English Englaland, "Land of the Angles"
The Angles are one part of the Anglo-Saxon ethnic / cultural group who settled in England, and now I name it after the Saxons instead. We already have an English name meaning "Land of the Saxons," so I just took it for here. Saxony over Saxonland does imply that a Latin Saxonia displaced a native Saxonland, but I'm completely fine with that deviation, since Angleland -> Saxonland would be pretty cheap.
Gaidel Scotland
Scotland: Scōtī (Celtic group) + land
I start from the endonym instead of the exonym and anglicize, roughly paralleling real-Ireland below. I pull from Scots Gaelic (nan) Ghàidheal "of the Gaels." With Scotland's close proximity to England, I would expect the Anglicization to happen earlier in older English, and with less integration of native sounds. "Gaidel" rolls off the tongue and feels right. (Rhymes with dreidel.)
Cimrack Wales
Wales: Volcae (Celtic tribe in Gaul) -> *walhaz (Proto-Germanic) -> Wēalas (Old English; plural) -> Wales
The process is similar to Gaidel. I start with Cymru, the Welsh endonym, and anglicize to Cimrack, drawing the suffix from Cymraeg, the endonym for the Welsh language. (The starting C is hard, not soft.)
Scotland Ireland
Ireland: Eriú (Old Irish), anglicized, + land.
Latin Scōtī, creating Scotland, applied both to modern-day Scotland and Ireland. I see no reason why the English name Scotland couldn't apply to either polity.
Basse Netherlands
South Basse Belgium
Netherlands: Complex mix of Germanic and Romance languages meaning "lowlands."
Belgium: Belgae (Gallic group) + -ium (Latin, similar to "of").
Netherlands draws most on Dutch neder, and now it draws most on French, as France controlled the country for a time and has held much historical influence. Specifically, it pulls from French basses, meaning low. Some Germanic kicks in, though, dropping the s, which also creates a superficial resemblance to nearby German state Hesse.
Belgium, once the southern provinces of the country before breaking away, draws from South Sudan to receive its appellation.
Bockville Luxembourg
Luxembourg: Lucilinburhuc Castle + bourg (French; "fortified town")
I build from the pre-existing roots of Luxembourg's name in a parallel way, less focused on military defense and more peaceful. Instead of bourg, I use the more normal French town ender ville, and I refer to the natural rock formation building up the castle versus the castle itself.
Helvetica Switzerland
Switzerland: The town of Schwyz (same root as the modern German endonym Schweiz) + land.
If you guessed a new name in advance, it was probably this one. The Latin Confederatio Helvetica already sees several official uses, like the internet domain .ch. This solo use of Helvetica is improper Latin grammar – the -ica Latin form describes a modifier, think "The Helvetian Confederation," and Helvetia would be (and has been) used here. But I'm very willing to believe a English localization error happens here, as -ica functions as a modern English place ender. (note uh... uh... Poptropica? Yeah.)
Dutchland Germany
East Dutchland Austria
Germany: Germānī (Germanic group) -> Germania -> Germany (ending -y from Old French, anglicized)
Austria: Latinization of Ōstarrīhhi, (Proto-Germanic; "Eastern Realm") the same root of modern endonym Österreich.
Dutchland extends the English Dutch / Deutsch misunderstanding to the German endonym Deutschland. Austria being the eastern realm gets a more literal English understanding.
Jutland Denmark
Denmark: From Dan (uncertain) and mark (border area)
I move from one geographic designation with political relevance to another, the Jutland Peninsula, giving greater focus to Denmark's control of the surrounding water versus its German border. Jutland naturally follows name syntax and comes from the Jutes, a Germanic group.
Fron Iceland
Iceland: Translated from Old Norse Ísland, "land of ice."
Fron comes from Old Norse frón, meaning land. When capitalized, it is a poetic name for Iceland. Here, I assume the name was adopted fully versus translated. Naming a country "Land" would be a bit silly.
Northveg Norway
Norway: Translated from Old Norse Norðvegr "North Way."
Here, I assume the Old Norse form is just anglicized instead of translated, related to Fron above.
Swelland Sweden
Sweden: Middle Dutch Sweden, "land of the Swedes," which itself is rooted in Proto-Germanic.
Swelland is an evolution of Old English Sweoland, "land of the Swedes." In reality the Middle Dutch form displaced it, but I assume that doesn't happen now. The eo shifts to e, and the double l passes the smell test.
Soom Suomi
Finland: Finnas (Old English; the Sami, a distinct ethnic group from Finns), evolved, + land.
Soom comes from Suomi, the Finnish endonym. The ending I is dropped, and the closest vowel analogue (to my understanding) replaces the uo phoneme. Compare Georgian ცხუმი Tskhumi -> Turkish Suhum and Russian equivalent.
Eastland Estonia
Estonia comes from Medieval Latin, with a complex and uncertain prior history.
I evolve Middle English Êstland, "East Land," which existed before the Medieval Latin form displaced it.
Predas Latvia
Latvia is a slight anglicization of the endonym Latvija.
Predas anglicizes Latvian priedājs, "pine grove." Pine forests are very common in Latvia.
Lietva Lithuania
Both names anglicize the endonym Lietuva, but mine is a closer approximation.
Slavonia Slovenia
To my understanding, the terms Slovenia, Slovakia, and Slavonia all descend from Slav or a word meaning slav, and the differences between them do not indicate distinct meanings. Therefore, one replacing the other seems very plausible. This also explains Slovakia becoming Slovenia.
Hervat Croatia
Croatia: From Medieval Latin, which itself descends from a long and unclear path, possibly meaning something like "the protecting land."
Now I assume the Latin name drew on the endonym Hrvatska, possibly something like Hirvatia. In descending through Germanic languages, it lost the suffix, something like Belarus(sia), and the starting vowel changed for a more Germanic sound. Maybe the German Herzog, meaning Duke, figured in somehow, given Croatia's medieval ducal status. (See nearby Herzegovina.)
Kora Bosnia and Herzegovina
Bosnia: Likely the Bosna river, through Greek Βοσώνα Bosona, + -ia (Latin).
Herzegovina: Bosnian Herceg + ov + ina, "that of the Duke". Herceg comes from German Herzog.
Kora is a Slavicization of the Greek χωρίον choríon, meaning small land or village, the designation of Βοσώνα Bosona above. I like the ending vowel because it resembles gora, a word in many Slavic languages for "mountain / hill," or more rarely "forest," both of which describe the country's geography. Less likely, it could come from various various words for karst, including Bosnian kras. Bosnia has the world's largest karst field, Livanjsko Polje.
Surbia Serbia
Late Roman and Medieval references to various European groups of people were frequently vague and volatile. The group now known as the Serbs / Serbians has taken many names, including Surbian, Sorbi, and others. The often-weaker u vowel also approximates the Serbian endonym, which lacks a vowel here (Srbija).
Blackhill Montenegro
Montenegro: Crna Gora (Montenegrin; "black mountain" for tree-covered Mount Lovćen) -> Monte + negro (Italian calque)
A calque is a type of loan word that literally translates the origin word. Crna -> Negro, Gora -> Monte. I apply the same logic again for English. As I talk about for Kora, gora can mean hill or mountain, and hill rolls off the tongue here. "Blackmount" could work though. The very cool name
Aquilea Albania
Albania: Albani (Illyrian group) + -ia (Latin).
Aquilea maintains the Latin sound of the original name from the Latin aquila, "eagle." Eagles are essential to Albania's symbology, featuring in its flag and its common historical name of Albëria, took to mean "Land of the Eagles." The specific form Aquilea draws on the ancient Roman town of the same name.
Dardania Kosovo
Kosovo: From Kosovo Field
I give Kosovo a Latin name to match Albania, using the logic behind its original name. Specifically, the Dardani tribe and their Kingdom of Dardania, which controlled the Kosovo area.
Obetz Czechia
Czechia: From Čech, a leader of a Slavic tribe, + -ia (Latin)
Obetz is from Czech Obec, "city." The ending c in Czech is pronounced similarly to English tz (e.g. "Switzerland"). I'm imagining a similar origin story to Canada here, where an outsider asks where they are, is told "the city," and takes that to be the name of the area. I also like this choice as honoring Czechia's powerful cities and industrialization, with Prague and Plzeň coming to mind.
Slovenia Slovakia
To my understanding, the terms Slovenia, Slovakia, and Slavonia all descend from Slav or a word meaning slav, and the differences between them do not indicate distinct meanings. Therefore, one replacing the other seems very plausible. This also explains Slovenia becoming Slavonia.
Leckland Poland
Poland: Polska (endonym) -> Polonia (Medieval Latin) + land
From Lechia, a historical name for Poland, stemming from the mythological founder Lech (the ending consonant being closer to k than English ch). The double-L alliteration rolls of the tongue.
Magyarland Hungary
Hungary: Probably Hun + evolution of Onoğur (a collection of Oghur tribes).
Magyarország, "Country of the Magyars," is the Hungarian endonym. Land is a better-fitting translation for ország than anything else that came to mind. There's a bit of precedent here in Székely Land, but the native Hungarian there does use föld, which maps more clearly onto "land" than ország does.
The English name would use the existing English pronunciation of Magyar versus the Hungarian.
Polotz Belarus
Belarus: Belarusian contraction of Russian Белая Русь Belaya Rus', "White Rus' (Territory)" or "White Russia," ultimately rooted in Old East Slavonic.
Here I draw on the Rus' principality of Polotsk, slightly Anglicized in a way matching the shorter end of the root, the Polota River. The z over an s could be a hyperforeignism or not, depending on how you chart the name's path into English.
Krai Ukraine
Both names come from Russian Украина Ukraina, and both have similar meanings as a borderland territory or country. The solo Krai use exists in Russian (Kрай) as a provincial division. In English, the country name could rhyme with day, like the syllable in Ukraine currently, or with dry, like how kрай is said in English.
Varangia Russia
Russia: From the Rus' people, evolving through Old East Slavonic, Greek, and Russian.
Varangian and Rus both describe the same forebears of modern Russia and founders of the Kievan Rus' state. Varangian is rooted in Old Norse over Old East Slavonic, but both languages were in use in the Kievan polity, facilitating an Old Norse importation to English (as we see for many the Scandinavian states). Varangian is rooted in Old Norse væringi, roughly "vassal," developing through medieval Latin and Greek. Lopping off the ending n makes a natural place name.
Romania Greece
Greece: From Latin through the Graeci, a Greek tribe settling in Italy.
From the long-time Greek endonym Ρωμιοί Romioi, "Roman," and the Greek phase of the (eastern) Roman Empire, which used the endonym Ρωμανία Romanía (among other descriptors).
I thought about "Hel" or "Hell" deriving from the ancient Greek and Katharevousa endonym Ἑλλάς, Hellas, but that felt a bit too cute.
Spinosija North Macedonia
I find this name clumsy and, in part because of that, very pretty. It stems from the Thracian σπίνος spinós, meaning lime - limestone is common in the Macedonian region. The -ija Macedonian suffix over an -ia Greek suffix parallels the country's naming dispute with Greece and change from Macedonia to North Macedonia.
Rumânia Romania
To differentiate this name from Romania above, it draws on Romanian spellings of the name and denonym. The u comes from the historical version more common in Wallachia, the traditional center of Romanian power. Rumânia now replaces Türkiye as the most prominent European country diacritic.
Vodov Moldova
Moldova: Possibly from Molda, the legendary dog of Dragoș Vodă, or Dragoș the Founder, + -ova (Slavic feminine possessive suffix).
I now draw from Dragoș Vodă, the founder of the Principality of Molodvia, directly. I replace her female -ova suffix with a male -ov suffix, which implies here a meaning roughly like "The Founder's (Country)." It's also a palindrome.
Ogor Bulgaria
Bulgaria: From Bulgar, a Turkic group, + -ia (Latin).
Anglicized Oğur, an old Turkic word for a clan, and likely sharing roots with Onoğur, a specific Turkic group who founded the Old Great Bulgarian Empire and were closely associated with the Bulgars.
Osmania Türkiye
Türkiye: The Turkic ethnic group + a Turkicization of -ia (Greek).
Here I anglicize ʿOsmānīye, "of Osman (the First)," which is tradicitionally Anglicized as "Ottoman," as in the Ottoman Empire. This Ottoman successor presumably had some less nationalism than Türkiye did.
Kartvelia Georgia
Georgia: From older Farsi (Iranian) names, most immediately Classical Persian گرج gurj, and St. George.
I instead draw on the Georgian endonym here, საქართველო Sakartvelo, "Land of the Kartvelians." This Anglicization is already established, e.g. Kartvelian languages.
To summarize a lot of history and politics in two sentences: the Georgians are the predominant Kartvelian group and have enacted discriminatory attitudes and policies towards other Kartvelian (or non-Kartvelian) ethnic groups. This has created debate about how much the Kartvelian identity should privilege Georgian identity over Laz, Svan, Mingrelian, etc. identity. Hopefully this usage of Kartvelia would come from a unifying and non-hierarchical spirit.
Hayastan Armenia
Armenia: Uncertain origins, evolving through old Farsi / Iranian and Greek.
Hayastan is the established romanization of Armenian endonym Հայաստան. The -stan suffix for countries is already well established in English. Theoretically, if the endonym was the English name, the country may push for a more European-sounding English version as part of its ongoing efforts to align with Europe (e.g. trying to join the EU). I couldn't think of a good way to implement that here anyway, though.
Cupris Cyprus
Cyprus: Extremely dense origin in Greek languages, all the way back to Mycenean Greek ku-pi-ri-jo in Linear B script, with unclear etymology.
Copper metal is named after the island, cuprum in Latin. My name assumes that, when cuprum was coined, it boomeranged back around to change pronunciations of its namesake island. Its coincidental approach towards Mycenean pronunciation is very cool.
To look at geography from an unfamiliar perspective, I remade the map of Europe by giving every country a new English name, one that reasonably could have emerged instead of what we got.
The Map of Europeisn't
Abbreviations west to east: Cimrack, South Basse, Bockville, Helvetica, East Dutchland, Blackhill, Dardania, Spinosija.
Slavonia is unfortunately unlabeled (between E.D. and Hervat). I intended to include Abkhazia and South Ossetia but forgot, but maybe they better fit a hypothetical Asia version anyway.
OK. How did we get here?
Like modern English names, these come from an eclectic distribution of roots. Various languages subject to varying evolution and displacement, like Latin, Old Norse, Old English, and the native languages of the countries. Various described features, like groups of people, historical events, and notable geography. Some funny stories and coincidences, some misconceptions. Varying times of Anglophone discovery and name adoption, and varying levels of localization efforts and care.
To get the new names, I'm tweaking how these factors got used. Maybe instead of pulling form Old Norse, it pulls from Old English. Maybe it resembles the native name more or less. Historical circumstances differed. Maybe a combination of these. You get the idea. I didn't get the 10 doctorates and 1000 hours to do this perfect - I'm sure I misunderstood linguistic evolution here and there, and some of this is ultimately vibes – but I gave an honest fun shot. (I also didn't include the micros because this already took a while lol.)
Below, I'll talk about each name, how it got there, and how it differs from the current name. The countries are grouped by region, roughly west to east.
Portugal: City of Portus Cale (Latin) -> Portugal (Portuguese and English)
The new name takes the same big picture process of combination, but slightly different evolution gives an English name with more English influence and less intermediate Germanic / Romance influence.
The city of Portus Cale is now Porto, which is similarly snappy to the new Portica.
Spain: Hispania (Latin) -> España (Spanish) -> Spain (English)
Here, Spain's Latin name instead came from lepus, meaning rabbit. Under Roman, and possibly prior Carthaginian, control, Spain was known as the land of the rabbits. The specific form Leporia resembles the modern name for the taxonomical family of rabbits, Leporidae.
France: Frank (Germanic group) -> Francia (Latin) -> France
Here, France's Latin name instead came from Charlemagne (Carolus Magnus in Latin) and his namesake Carolingian dynasty. Countries named after individual figures are rare, but not absent (Bolivia comes to mind), and Charlemagne has the influence and prestige to make it. Additionally, the English "-land" suffix replaced the Latin "-ia," as with Polonia -> Poland.
Looking through my finished map, I was initially skeptical in how many countries ended with suffixes like "-land" and "-ia", but my familiarity with existing names was bending the lens. Yes, those suffixes are actually that common!
-land: Iceland, Ireland, England*, Scotland*, Switzerland, Poland, Finland (7, versus 8 in mine)
-ia: Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia (... and Herzegovina), Serbia, Albania, North Macedonia, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Bulgaria, Romania, Russia (12, versus 10-11 in mine)
Italy: Italia (Roman province), anglicized to Italy
This was actually my hardest one. One benefit of the name Italy is that it didn't privilege any one of the constituent kingdoms and entities of Italian unification. I preserve that idea, and Italy's effort to draw on the Roman province, with Patria "fatherland." This references the Roman honorary title "Father of the Fatherland," which was bestowed in Italian form on the first king of united Italy, Victor Emmanuel.
England: From Old English Englaland, "Land of the Angles"
The Angles are one part of the Anglo-Saxon ethnic / cultural group who settled in England, and now I name it after the Saxons instead. We already have an English name meaning "Land of the Saxons," so I just took it for here. Saxony over Saxonland does imply that a Latin Saxonia displaced a native Saxonland, but I'm completely fine with that deviation, since Angleland -> Saxonland would be pretty cheap.
Scotland: Scōtī (Celtic group) + land
I start from the endonym instead of the exonym and anglicize, roughly paralleling real-Ireland below. I pull from Scots Gaelic (nan) Ghàidheal "of the Gaels." With Scotland's close proximity to England, I would expect the Anglicization to happen earlier in older English, and with less integration of native sounds. "Gaidel" rolls off the tongue and feels right. (Rhymes with dreidel.)
Wales: Volcae (Celtic tribe in Gaul) -> *walhaz (Proto-Germanic) -> Wēalas (Old English; plural) -> Wales
The process is similar to Gaidel. I start with Cymru, the Welsh endonym, and anglicize to Cimrack, drawing the suffix from Cymraeg, the endonym for the Welsh language. (The starting C is hard, not soft.)
Ireland: Eriú (Old Irish), anglicized, + land.
Latin Scōtī, creating Scotland, applied both to modern-day Scotland and Ireland. I see no reason why the English name Scotland couldn't apply to either polity.
Netherlands: Complex mix of Germanic and Romance languages meaning "lowlands."
Belgium: Belgae (Gallic group) + -ium (Latin, similar to "of").
Netherlands draws most on Dutch neder, and now it draws most on French, as France controlled the country for a time and has held much historical influence. Specifically, it pulls from French basses, meaning low. Some Germanic kicks in, though, dropping the s, which also creates a superficial resemblance to nearby German state Hesse.
Belgium, once the southern provinces of the country before breaking away, draws from South Sudan to receive its appellation.
Luxembourg: Lucilinburhuc Castle + bourg (French; "fortified town")
I build from the pre-existing roots of Luxembourg's name in a parallel way, less focused on military defense and more peaceful. Instead of bourg, I use the more normal French town ender ville, and I refer to the natural rock formation building up the castle versus the castle itself.
Switzerland: The town of Schwyz (same root as the modern German endonym Schweiz) + land.
If you guessed a new name in advance, it was probably this one. The Latin Confederatio Helvetica already sees several official uses, like the internet domain .ch. This solo use of Helvetica is improper Latin grammar – the -ica Latin form describes a modifier, think "The Helvetian Confederation," and Helvetia would be (and has been) used here. But I'm very willing to believe a English localization error happens here, as -ica functions as a modern English place ender. (note uh... uh... Poptropica? Yeah.)
Germany: Germānī (Germanic group) -> Germania -> Germany (ending -y from Old French, anglicized)
Austria: Latinization of Ōstarrīhhi, (Proto-Germanic; "Eastern Realm") the same root of modern endonym Österreich.
Dutchland extends the English Dutch / Deutsch misunderstanding to the German endonym Deutschland. Austria being the eastern realm gets a more literal English understanding.
Denmark: From Dan (uncertain) and mark (border area)
I move from one geographic designation with political relevance to another, the Jutland Peninsula, giving greater focus to Denmark's control of the surrounding water versus its German border. Jutland naturally follows name syntax and comes from the Jutes, a Germanic group.
Iceland: Translated from Old Norse Ísland, "land of ice."
Fron comes from Old Norse frón, meaning land. When capitalized, it is a poetic name for Iceland. Here, I assume the name was adopted fully versus translated. Naming a country "Land" would be a bit silly.
Norway: Translated from Old Norse Norðvegr "North Way."
Here, I assume the Old Norse form is just anglicized instead of translated, related to Fron above.
Sweden: Middle Dutch Sweden, "land of the Swedes," which itself is rooted in Proto-Germanic.
Swelland is an evolution of Old English Sweoland, "land of the Swedes." In reality the Middle Dutch form displaced it, but I assume that doesn't happen now. The eo shifts to e, and the double l passes the smell test.
Finland: Finnas (Old English; the Sami, a distinct ethnic group from Finns), evolved, + land.
Soom comes from Suomi, the Finnish endonym. The ending I is dropped, and the closest vowel analogue (to my understanding) replaces the uo phoneme. Compare Georgian ცხუმი Tskhumi -> Turkish Suhum and Russian equivalent.
Estonia comes from Medieval Latin, with a complex and uncertain prior history.
I evolve Middle English Êstland, "East Land," which existed before the Medieval Latin form displaced it.
Latvia is a slight anglicization of the endonym Latvija.
Predas anglicizes Latvian priedājs, "pine grove." Pine forests are very common in Latvia.
Both names anglicize the endonym Lietuva, but mine is a closer approximation.
To my understanding, the terms Slovenia, Slovakia, and Slavonia all descend from Slav or a word meaning slav, and the differences between them do not indicate distinct meanings. Therefore, one replacing the other seems very plausible. This also explains Slovakia becoming Slovenia.
Croatia: From Medieval Latin, which itself descends from a long and unclear path, possibly meaning something like "the protecting land."
Now I assume the Latin name drew on the endonym Hrvatska, possibly something like Hirvatia. In descending through Germanic languages, it lost the suffix, something like Belarus(sia), and the starting vowel changed for a more Germanic sound. Maybe the German Herzog, meaning Duke, figured in somehow, given Croatia's medieval ducal status. (See nearby Herzegovina.)
Bosnia: Likely the Bosna river, through Greek Βοσώνα Bosona, + -ia (Latin).
Herzegovina: Bosnian Herceg + ov + ina, "that of the Duke". Herceg comes from German Herzog.
Kora is a Slavicization of the Greek χωρίον choríon, meaning small land or village, the designation of Βοσώνα Bosona above. I like the ending vowel because it resembles gora, a word in many Slavic languages for "mountain / hill," or more rarely "forest," both of which describe the country's geography. Less likely, it could come from various various words for karst, including Bosnian kras. Bosnia has the world's largest karst field, Livanjsko Polje.
Late Roman and Medieval references to various European groups of people were frequently vague and volatile. The group now known as the Serbs / Serbians has taken many names, including Surbian, Sorbi, and others. The often-weaker u vowel also approximates the Serbian endonym, which lacks a vowel here (Srbija).
Montenegro: Crna Gora (Montenegrin; "black mountain" for tree-covered Mount Lovćen) -> Monte + negro (Italian calque)
A calque is a type of loan word that literally translates the origin word. Crna -> Negro, Gora -> Monte. I apply the same logic again for English. As I talk about for Kora, gora can mean hill or mountain, and hill rolls off the tongue here. "Blackmount" could work though. The very cool name
Albania: Albani (Illyrian group) + -ia (Latin).
Aquilea maintains the Latin sound of the original name from the Latin aquila, "eagle." Eagles are essential to Albania's symbology, featuring in its flag and its common historical name of Albëria, took to mean "Land of the Eagles." The specific form Aquilea draws on the ancient Roman town of the same name.
Kosovo: From Kosovo Field
I give Kosovo a Latin name to match Albania, using the logic behind its original name. Specifically, the Dardani tribe and their Kingdom of Dardania, which controlled the Kosovo area.
Czechia: From Čech, a leader of a Slavic tribe, + -ia (Latin)
Obetz is from Czech Obec, "city." The ending c in Czech is pronounced similarly to English tz (e.g. "Switzerland"). I'm imagining a similar origin story to Canada here, where an outsider asks where they are, is told "the city," and takes that to be the name of the area. I also like this choice as honoring Czechia's powerful cities and industrialization, with Prague and Plzeň coming to mind.
To my understanding, the terms Slovenia, Slovakia, and Slavonia all descend from Slav or a word meaning slav, and the differences between them do not indicate distinct meanings. Therefore, one replacing the other seems very plausible. This also explains Slovenia becoming Slavonia.
Poland: Polska (endonym) -> Polonia (Medieval Latin) + land
From Lechia, a historical name for Poland, stemming from the mythological founder Lech (the ending consonant being closer to k than English ch). The double-L alliteration rolls of the tongue.
Hungary: Probably Hun + evolution of Onoğur (a collection of Oghur tribes).
Magyarország, "Country of the Magyars," is the Hungarian endonym. Land is a better-fitting translation for ország than anything else that came to mind. There's a bit of precedent here in Székely Land, but the native Hungarian there does use föld, which maps more clearly onto "land" than ország does.
The English name would use the existing English pronunciation of Magyar versus the Hungarian.
Belarus: Belarusian contraction of Russian Белая Русь Belaya Rus', "White Rus' (Territory)" or "White Russia," ultimately rooted in Old East Slavonic.
Here I draw on the Rus' principality of Polotsk, slightly Anglicized in a way matching the shorter end of the root, the Polota River. The z over an s could be a hyperforeignism or not, depending on how you chart the name's path into English.
Both names come from Russian Украина Ukraina, and both have similar meanings as a borderland territory or country. The solo Krai use exists in Russian (Kрай) as a provincial division. In English, the country name could rhyme with day, like the syllable in Ukraine currently, or with dry, like how kрай is said in English.
Russia: From the Rus' people, evolving through Old East Slavonic, Greek, and Russian.
Varangian and Rus both describe the same forebears of modern Russia and founders of the Kievan Rus' state. Varangian is rooted in Old Norse over Old East Slavonic, but both languages were in use in the Kievan polity, facilitating an Old Norse importation to English (as we see for many the Scandinavian states). Varangian is rooted in Old Norse væringi, roughly "vassal," developing through medieval Latin and Greek. Lopping off the ending n makes a natural place name.
Greece: From Latin through the Graeci, a Greek tribe settling in Italy.
From the long-time Greek endonym Ρωμιοί Romioi, "Roman," and the Greek phase of the (eastern) Roman Empire, which used the endonym Ρωμανία Romanía (among other descriptors).
I thought about "Hel" or "Hell" deriving from the ancient Greek and Katharevousa endonym Ἑλλάς, Hellas, but that felt a bit too cute.
I find this name clumsy and, in part because of that, very pretty. It stems from the Thracian σπίνος spinós, meaning lime - limestone is common in the Macedonian region. The -ija Macedonian suffix over an -ia Greek suffix parallels the country's naming dispute with Greece and change from Macedonia to North Macedonia.
To differentiate this name from Romania above, it draws on Romanian spellings of the name and denonym. The u comes from the historical version more common in Wallachia, the traditional center of Romanian power. Rumânia now replaces Türkiye as the most prominent European country diacritic.
Moldova: Possibly from Molda, the legendary dog of Dragoș Vodă, or Dragoș the Founder, + -ova (Slavic feminine possessive suffix).
I now draw from Dragoș Vodă, the founder of the Principality of Molodvia, directly. I replace her female -ova suffix with a male -ov suffix, which implies here a meaning roughly like "The Founder's (Country)." It's also a palindrome.
Bulgaria: From Bulgar, a Turkic group, + -ia (Latin).
Anglicized Oğur, an old Turkic word for a clan, and likely sharing roots with Onoğur, a specific Turkic group who founded the Old Great Bulgarian Empire and were closely associated with the Bulgars.
Türkiye: The Turkic ethnic group + a Turkicization of -ia (Greek).
Here I anglicize ʿOsmānīye, "of Osman (the First)," which is tradicitionally Anglicized as "Ottoman," as in the Ottoman Empire. This Ottoman successor presumably had some less nationalism than Türkiye did.
Georgia: From older Farsi (Iranian) names, most immediately Classical Persian گرج gurj, and St. George.
I instead draw on the Georgian endonym here, საქართველო Sakartvelo, "Land of the Kartvelians." This Anglicization is already established, e.g. Kartvelian languages.
To summarize a lot of history and politics in two sentences: the Georgians are the predominant Kartvelian group and have enacted discriminatory attitudes and policies towards other Kartvelian (or non-Kartvelian) ethnic groups. This has created debate about how much the Kartvelian identity should privilege Georgian identity over Laz, Svan, Mingrelian, etc. identity. Hopefully this usage of Kartvelia would come from a unifying and non-hierarchical spirit.
Armenia: Uncertain origins, evolving through old Farsi / Iranian and Greek.
Hayastan is the established romanization of Armenian endonym Հայաստան. The -stan suffix for countries is already well established in English. Theoretically, if the endonym was the English name, the country may push for a more European-sounding English version as part of its ongoing efforts to align with Europe (e.g. trying to join the EU). I couldn't think of a good way to implement that here anyway, though.
Cyprus: Extremely dense origin in Greek languages, all the way back to Mycenean Greek ku-pi-ri-jo in Linear B script, with unclear etymology.
Copper metal is named after the island, cuprum in Latin. My name assumes that, when cuprum was coined, it boomeranged back around to change pronunciations of its namesake island. Its coincidental approach towards Mycenean pronunciation is very cool.
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2025 is over for many and only know do I remember Stronger than You
Steven Universe and Undertale were legit life changing for me ngl
Steven Universe and Undertale were legit life changing for me ngl
i always had germany's alt-history name pegged as "alemannia". modern english has a lot of french influence and they might've adopted the name "allemagne" rather than going for the latin "germania"And now for something completely different!
To look at geography from an unfamiliar perspective, I remade the map of Europe by giving every country a new English name, one that reasonably could have emerged instead of what we got.
The Map of EuropeView attachment 797625isn't
Abbreviations west to east: Cimrack, South Basse, Bockville, Helvetica, East Dutchland, Blackhill, Dardania, Spinosija.
Slavonia is unfortunately unlabeled (between E.D. and Hervat). I intended to include Abkhazia and South Ossetia but forgot, but maybe they better fit a hypothetical Asia version anyway.
OK. How did we get here?
Like modern English names, these come from an eclectic distribution of roots. Various languages subject to varying evolution and displacement, like Latin, Old Norse, Old English, and the native languages of the countries. Various described features, like groups of people, historical events, and notable geography. Some funny stories and coincidences, some misconceptions. Varying times of Anglophone discovery and name adoption, and varying levels of localization efforts and care.
To get the new names, I'm tweaking how these factors got used. Maybe instead of pulling form Old Norse, it pulls from Old English. Maybe it resembles the native name more or less. Historical circumstances differed. Maybe a combination of these. You get the idea. I didn't get the 10 doctorates and 1000 hours to do this perfect - I'm sure I misunderstood linguistic evolution here and there, and some of this is ultimately vibes – but I gave an honest fun shot. (I also didn't include the micros because this already took a while lol.)
Below, I'll talk about each name, how it got there, and how it differs from the current name. The countries are grouped by region, roughly west to east.
PorticaPortugal
Portugal: City of Portus Cale (Latin) -> Portugal (Portuguese and English)
The new name takes the same big picture process of combination, but slightly different evolution gives an English name with more English influence and less intermediate Germanic / Romance influence.
The city of Portus Cale is now Porto, which is similarly snappy to the new Portica.
LeporiaSpain
Spain: Hispania (Latin) -> España (Spanish) -> Spain (English)
Here, Spain's Latin name instead came from lepus, meaning rabbit. Under Roman, and possibly prior Carthaginian, control, Spain was known as the land of the rabbits. The specific form Leporia resembles the modern name for the taxonomical family of rabbits, Leporidae.
CarlandFrance
France: Frank (Germanic group) -> Francia (Latin) -> France
Here, France's Latin name instead came from Charlemagne (Carolus Magnus in Latin) and his namesake Carolingian dynasty. Countries named after individual figures are rare, but not absent (Bolivia comes to mind), and Charlemagne has the influence and prestige to make it. Additionally, the English "-land" suffix replaced the Latin "-ia," as with Polonia -> Poland.
Looking through my finished map, I was initially skeptical in how many countries ended with suffixes like "-land" and "-ia", but my familiarity with existing names was bending the lens. Yes, those suffixes are actually that common!
-land: Iceland, Ireland, England*, Scotland*, Switzerland, Poland, Finland (7, versus 8 in mine)
-ia: Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia (... and Herzegovina), Serbia, Albania, North Macedonia, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Bulgaria, Romania, Russia (12, versus 10-11 in mine)
PatriaItaly
Italy: Italia (Roman province), anglicized to Italy
This was actually my hardest one. One benefit of the name Italy is that it didn't privilege any one of the constituent kingdoms and entities of Italian unification. I preserve that idea, and Italy's effort to draw on the Roman province, with Patria "fatherland." This references the Roman honorary title "Father of the Fatherland," which was bestowed in Italian form on the first king of united Italy, Victor Emmanuel.
SaxonyEngland
England: From Old English Englaland, "Land of the Angles"
The Angles are one part of the Anglo-Saxon ethnic / cultural group who settled in England, and now I name it after the Saxons instead. We already have an English name meaning "Land of the Saxons," so I just took it for here. Saxony over Saxonland does imply that a Latin Saxonia displaced a native Saxonland, but I'm completely fine with that deviation, since Angleland -> Saxonland would be pretty cheap.
GaidelScotland
Scotland: Scōtī (Celtic group) + land
I start from the endonym instead of the exonym and anglicize, roughly paralleling real-Ireland below. I pull from Scots Gaelic (nan) Ghàidheal "of the Gaels." With Scotland's close proximity to England, I would expect the Anglicization to happen earlier in older English, and with less integration of native sounds. "Gaidel" rolls off the tongue and feels right. (Rhymes with dreidel.)
CimrackWales
Wales: Volcae (Celtic tribe in Gaul) -> *walhaz (Proto-Germanic) -> Wēalas (Old English; plural) -> Wales
The process is similar to Gaidel. I start with Cymru, the Welsh endonym, and anglicize to Cimrack, drawing the suffix from Cymraeg, the endonym for the Welsh language. (The starting C is hard, not soft.)
ScotlandIreland
Ireland: Eriú (Old Irish), anglicized, + land.
Latin Scōtī, creating Scotland, applied both to modern-day Scotland and Ireland. I see no reason why the English name Scotland couldn't apply to either polity.
BasseNetherlandsSouth Basse
Belgium
Netherlands: Complex mix of Germanic and Romance languages meaning "lowlands."
Belgium: Belgae (Gallic group) + -ium (Latin, similar to "of").
Netherlands draws most on Dutch neder, and now it draws most on French, as France controlled the country for a time and has held much historical influence. Specifically, it pulls from French basses, meaning low. Some Germanic kicks in, though, dropping the s, which also creates a superficial resemblance to nearby German state Hesse.
Belgium, once the southern provinces of the country before breaking away, draws from South Sudan to receive its appellation.
BockvilleLuxembourg
Luxembourg: Lucilinburhuc Castle + bourg (French; "fortified town")
I build from the pre-existing roots of Luxembourg's name in a parallel way, less focused on military defense and more peaceful. Instead of bourg, I use the more normal French town ender ville, and I refer to the natural rock formation building up the castle versus the castle itself.
HelveticaSwitzerland
Switzerland: The town of Schwyz (same root as the modern German endonym Schweiz) + land.
If you guessed a new name in advance, it was probably this one. The Latin Confederatio Helvetica already sees several official uses, like the internet domain .ch. This solo use of Helvetica is improper Latin grammar – the -ica Latin form describes a modifier, think "The Helvetian Confederation," and Helvetia would be (and has been) used here. But I'm very willing to believe a English localization error happens here, as -ica functions as a modern English place ender. (note uh... uh... Poptropica? Yeah.)
DutchlandGermanyEast Dutchland
Austria
Germany: Germānī (Germanic group) -> Germania -> Germany (ending -y from Old French, anglicized)
Austria: Latinization of Ōstarrīhhi, (Proto-Germanic; "Eastern Realm") the same root of modern endonym Österreich.
Dutchland extends the English Dutch / Deutsch misunderstanding to the German endonym Deutschland. Austria being the eastern realm gets a more literal English understanding.
JutlandDenmark
Denmark: From Dan (uncertain) and mark (border area)
I move from one geographic designation with political relevance to another, the Jutland Peninsula, giving greater focus to Denmark's control of the surrounding water versus its German border. Jutland naturally follows name syntax and comes from the Jutes, a Germanic group.
FronIceland
Iceland: Translated from Old Norse Ísland, "land of ice."
Fron comes from Old Norse frón, meaning land. When capitalized, it is a poetic name for Iceland. Here, I assume the name was adopted fully versus translated. Naming a country "Land" would be a bit silly.
NorthvegNorway
Norway: Translated from Old Norse Norðvegr "North Way."
Here, I assume the Old Norse form is just anglicized instead of translated, related to Fron above.
SwellandSweden
Sweden: Middle Dutch Sweden, "land of the Swedes," which itself is rooted in Proto-Germanic.
Swelland is an evolution of Old English Sweoland, "land of the Swedes." In reality the Middle Dutch form displaced it, but I assume that doesn't happen now. The eo shifts to e, and the double l passes the smell test.
SoomSuomi
Finland: Finnas (Old English; the Sami, a distinct ethnic group from Finns), evolved, + land.
Soom comes from Suomi, the Finnish endonym. The ending I is dropped, and the closest vowel analogue (to my understanding) replaces the uo phoneme. Compare Georgian ცხუმი Tskhumi -> Turkish Suhum and Russian equivalent.
EastlandEstonia
Estonia comes from Medieval Latin, with a complex and uncertain prior history.
I evolve Middle English Êstland, "East Land," which existed before the Medieval Latin form displaced it.
Predas Latvia
Latvia is a slight anglicization of the endonym Latvija.
Predas anglicizes Latvian priedājs, "pine grove." Pine forests are very common in Latvia.
LietvaLithuania
Both names anglicize the endonym Lietuva, but mine is a closer approximation.
SlavoniaSlovenia
To my understanding, the terms Slovenia, Slovakia, and Slavonia all descend from Slav or a word meaning slav, and the differences between them do not indicate distinct meanings. Therefore, one replacing the other seems very plausible. This also explains Slovakia becoming Slovenia.
HervatCroatia
Croatia: From Medieval Latin, which itself descends from a long and unclear path, possibly meaning something like "the protecting land."
Now I assume the Latin name drew on the endonym Hrvatska, possibly something like Hirvatia. In descending through Germanic languages, it lost the suffix, something like Belarus(sia), and the starting vowel changed for a more Germanic sound. Maybe the German Herzog, meaning Duke, figured in somehow, given Croatia's medieval ducal status. (See nearby Herzegovina.)
KoraBosnia and Herzegovina
Bosnia: Likely the Bosna river, through Greek Βοσώνα Bosona, + -ia (Latin).
Herzegovina: Bosnian Herceg + ov + ina, "that of the Duke". Herceg comes from German Herzog.
Kora is a Slavicization of the Greek χωρίον choríon, meaning small land or village, the designation of Βοσώνα Bosona above. I like the ending vowel because it resembles gora, a word in many Slavic languages for "mountain / hill," or more rarely "forest," both of which describe the country's geography. Less likely, it could come from various various words for karst, including Bosnian kras. Bosnia has the world's largest karst field, Livanjsko Polje.
SurbiaSerbia
Late Roman and Medieval references to various European groups of people were frequently vague and volatile. The group now known as the Serbs / Serbians has taken many names, including Surbian, Sorbi, and others. The often-weaker u vowel also approximates the Serbian endonym, which lacks a vowel here (Srbija).
BlackhillMontenegro
Montenegro: Crna Gora (Montenegrin; "black mountain" for tree-covered Mount Lovćen) -> Monte + negro (Italian calque)
A calque is a type of loan word that literally translates the origin word. Crna -> Negro, Gora -> Monte. I apply the same logic again for English. As I talk about for Kora, gora can mean hill or mountain, and hill rolls off the tongue here. "Blackmount" could work though. The very cool name
AquileaAlbania
Albania: Albani (Illyrian group) + -ia (Latin).
Aquilea maintains the Latin sound of the original name from the Latin aquila, "eagle." Eagles are essential to Albania's symbology, featuring in its flag and its common historical name of Albëria, took to mean "Land of the Eagles." The specific form Aquilea draws on the ancient Roman town of the same name.
DardaniaKosovo
Kosovo: From Kosovo Field
I give Kosovo a Latin name to match Albania, using the logic behind its original name. Specifically, the Dardani tribe and their Kingdom of Dardania, which controlled the Kosovo area.
ObetzCzechia
Czechia: From Čech, a leader of a Slavic tribe, + -ia (Latin)
Obetz is from Czech Obec, "city." The ending c in Czech is pronounced similarly to English tz (e.g. "Switzerland"). I'm imagining a similar origin story to Canada here, where an outsider asks where they are, is told "the city," and takes that to be the name of the area. I also like this choice as honoring Czechia's powerful cities and industrialization, with Prague and Plzeň coming to mind.
SloveniaSlovakia
To my understanding, the terms Slovenia, Slovakia, and Slavonia all descend from Slav or a word meaning slav, and the differences between them do not indicate distinct meanings. Therefore, one replacing the other seems very plausible. This also explains Slovenia becoming Slavonia.
LecklandPoland
Poland: Polska (endonym) -> Polonia (Medieval Latin) + land
From Lechia, a historical name for Poland, stemming from the mythological founder Lech (the ending consonant being closer to k than English ch). The double-L alliteration rolls of the tongue.
MagyarlandHungary
Hungary: Probably Hun + evolution of Onoğur (a collection of Oghur tribes).
Magyarország, "Country of the Magyars," is the Hungarian endonym. Land is a better-fitting translation for ország than anything else that came to mind. There's a bit of precedent here in Székely Land, but the native Hungarian there does use föld, which maps more clearly onto "land" than ország does.
The English name would use the existing English pronunciation of Magyar versus the Hungarian.
PolotzBelarus
Belarus: Belarusian contraction of Russian Белая Русь Belaya Rus', "White Rus' (Territory)" or "White Russia," ultimately rooted in Old East Slavonic.
Here I draw on the Rus' principality of Polotsk, slightly Anglicized in a way matching the shorter end of the root, the Polota River. The z over an s could be a hyperforeignism or not, depending on how you chart the name's path into English.
KraiUkraine
Both names come from Russian Украина Ukraina, and both have similar meanings as a borderland territory or country. The solo Krai use exists in Russian (Kрай) as a provincial division. In English, the country name could rhyme with day, like the syllable in Ukraine currently, or with dry, like how kрай is said in English.
VarangiaRussia
Russia: From the Rus' people, evolving through Old East Slavonic, Greek, and Russian.
Varangian and Rus both describe the same forebears of modern Russia and founders of the Kievan Rus' state. Varangian is rooted in Old Norse over Old East Slavonic, but both languages were in use in the Kievan polity, facilitating an Old Norse importation to English (as we see for many the Scandinavian states). Varangian is rooted in Old Norse væringi, roughly "vassal," developing through medieval Latin and Greek. Lopping off the ending n makes a natural place name.
RomaniaGreece
Greece: From Latin through the Graeci, a Greek tribe settling in Italy.
From the long-time Greek endonym Ρωμιοί Romioi, "Roman," and the Greek phase of the (eastern) Roman Empire, which used the endonym Ρωμανία Romanía (among other descriptors).
I thought about "Hel" or "Hell" deriving from the ancient Greek and Katharevousa endonym Ἑλλάς, Hellas, but that felt a bit too cute.
SpinosijaNorth Macedonia
I find this name clumsy and, in part because of that, very pretty. It stems from the Thracian σπίνος spinós, meaning lime - limestone is common in the Macedonian region. The -ija Macedonian suffix over an -ia Greek suffix parallels the country's naming dispute with Greece and change from Macedonia to North Macedonia.
RumâniaRomania
To differentiate this name from Romania above, it draws on Romanian spellings of the name and denonym. The u comes from the historical version more common in Wallachia, the traditional center of Romanian power. Rumânia now replaces Türkiye as the most prominent European country diacritic.
VodovMoldova
Moldova: Possibly from Molda, the legendary dog of Dragoș Vodă, or Dragoș the Founder, + -ova (Slavic feminine possessive suffix).
I now draw from Dragoș Vodă, the founder of the Principality of Molodvia, directly. I replace her female -ova suffix with a male -ov suffix, which implies here a meaning roughly like "The Founder's (Country)." It's also a palindrome.
OgorBulgaria
Bulgaria: From Bulgar, a Turkic group, + -ia (Latin).
Anglicized Oğur, an old Turkic word for a clan, and likely sharing roots with Onoğur, a specific Turkic group who founded the Old Great Bulgarian Empire and were closely associated with the Bulgars.
OsmaniaTürkiye
Türkiye: The Turkic ethnic group + a Turkicization of -ia (Greek).
Here I anglicize ʿOsmānīye, "of Osman (the First)," which is tradicitionally Anglicized as "Ottoman," as in the Ottoman Empire. This Ottoman successor presumably had some less nationalism than Türkiye did.
KartveliaGeorgia
Georgia: From older Farsi (Iranian) names, most immediately Classical Persian گرج gurj, and St. George.
I instead draw on the Georgian endonym here, საქართველო Sakartvelo, "Land of the Kartvelians." This Anglicization is already established, e.g. Kartvelian languages.
To summarize a lot of history and politics in two sentences: the Georgians are the predominant Kartvelian group and have enacted discriminatory attitudes and policies towards other Kartvelian (or non-Kartvelian) ethnic groups. This has created debate about how much the Kartvelian identity should privilege Georgian identity over Laz, Svan, Mingrelian, etc. identity. Hopefully this usage of Kartvelia would come from a unifying and non-hierarchical spirit.
HayastanArmenia
Armenia: Uncertain origins, evolving through old Farsi / Iranian and Greek.
Hayastan is the established romanization of Armenian endonym Հայաստան. The -stan suffix for countries is already well established in English. Theoretically, if the endonym was the English name, the country may push for a more European-sounding English version as part of its ongoing efforts to align with Europe (e.g. trying to join the EU). I couldn't think of a good way to implement that here anyway, though.
View attachment 797681 CuprisCyprus
Cyprus: Extremely dense origin in Greek languages, all the way back to Mycenean Greek ku-pi-ri-jo in Linear B script, with unclear etymology.
Copper metal is named after the island, cuprum in Latin. My name assumes that, when cuprum was coined, it boomeranged back around to change pronunciations of its namesake island. Its coincidental approach towards Mycenean pronunciation is very cool.
yeah it's donut time.
i've been giving the za dlc some more thought lately, overall it was quite fun. while it's maybe a bit lacking in some departments for me (for example i kind of wish some of the hyperspace rogue mega encounters had more varied arena designs in a similar vein to tatsugiri's being the sushi high roller scaled up. i don't expect every arena to be completely custom cause that seems like it would be a huge pain to actually spend resources and time on. but like maybe mega meowstic's arena could have been some weird reshaped / pallete swapped version of that one rooftop with all the espurr in the wild zone you fight it in. "pavilion"? this is more of a nitpick than anything. also donut resetting is a pain sometimes but that's also kinda whatever) the dlc does a few things notably well that i think deserve shouting out.
i mentioned a while back that i loved the random npc dialogue in the base game and how it tied back to the themes of the game really well. the dlc puts a fresh spin on the game's own concept; now, the residents of lumiose are subject to a series of events that from their perspective are borderline paranormal.
this is mostly shown in the hyperspace battle zones, which... are actually one of my favorite parts of the entire dlc! yeah even if they make it annoying to do special scans sometimes, i really like the battle zones for one main reason: to add to the lategame difficulty stuff present in the dlc, your hyperspace calorie timer ticks down during fights. suddenly, out of this one change alone, a huge pikmin-style emphasis is placed on sheer efficiency with every action you make both inside and outside trainer encounters. (i am a huge pikmin gamer and see this as a big w.) the rewards are also plentiful, especially in higher level distortions, so there is a lot of intrinsic value present in these distortions that really just incentivizes players to haul their ass through hyperspace as fast as possible and beat up as many other trainers as possible. feels really good to just plow through a bunch of pokemon like that. also the alpha trainers are a genuine challenge with the timer because all the pokemon have at least 252 hp ivs by virtue of being alpha and i'm fairly certain that at higher levels they're all both fully ev'd and iv'd as well with held items to boot. also the alpha size stuff makes their attack hitboxes that much bigger on aoe moves. if you underestimate them you will likely get at least one mon wrecked and that wastes a lot of your precious time, so you better lock in. also they will likely mega their pokemon. you have been warned.
anyway circling back to the original point. the flavor text after you beat these hyperspace trainers really caught me off guard because of how varied they were. some lumiose residents took it in stride, and adapted to their time in hyperspace. some were in there via quasartico holotech and didn't know what the fuck was going on. (shoutout to the one alpha trainer who just nonchalantly said they preferred jacinthe's pink holograms.) some of them were less flexible in this regard, and iirc a few trainers question if they just straight up died and this is the afterlife. instead of the npcs thinking in various ways about the urban redevelopment of lumiose, now they're left to contend with both that and now The Mysterious And Unusual Outcroppings Of Disturbing Hyperspatial Portals that not very many people know the full details behind. this also has effects on lumiose proper as well: pokemon are coming out of the distortions and ending up in lumiose, further affecting the ecology, structute, and biodiversity of the city.
there's this one neat side quest where you send a feebas to live in a canal, and after a while in-game the canal slowly starts to get fully populated by wild feebas until it becomes a regular spawn location for them. that is cool. that is an active depiction of the effects hyperspace lumiose has on its real counterpart that affects the player's gameplay in return. i like that a lot and i hope that sort of gameplay-tied cause-and-effect focused side quest becomes a bit more prevalent in the series than it was before as opposed to earlier gen "thanks for showing me that pokemon i couldn't remember the name of here's an evo stone" type stuff (though let it be said that i am also kind of fond those types of side quest and think a balance of the two is ideal!!).
main story is fine, not a whole lot to write home about but also nothing that really strikes me as "this writing stinks" which i'm cool with. the new megas are neat, i really like mega darkrai and crabominable but all of them are pretty fine. i think it's really funny and neat that they gave korrina a postgame team consisting of 6 stat trained roughly level 100 fighting type megas (95 / 95 / 97 / 99 / 99 / 100 for levels respectively). ansha is cool. i love her little credits sketch of her and diantha it's so real and peak.
dang im a bit tired of typing now, uhh dlc is cool gameplay loop is cool mega dimension is cool. im gonna go eat a 3000 calorie donut now
i've been giving the za dlc some more thought lately, overall it was quite fun. while it's maybe a bit lacking in some departments for me (for example i kind of wish some of the hyperspace rogue mega encounters had more varied arena designs in a similar vein to tatsugiri's being the sushi high roller scaled up. i don't expect every arena to be completely custom cause that seems like it would be a huge pain to actually spend resources and time on. but like maybe mega meowstic's arena could have been some weird reshaped / pallete swapped version of that one rooftop with all the espurr in the wild zone you fight it in. "pavilion"? this is more of a nitpick than anything. also donut resetting is a pain sometimes but that's also kinda whatever) the dlc does a few things notably well that i think deserve shouting out.
i mentioned a while back that i loved the random npc dialogue in the base game and how it tied back to the themes of the game really well. the dlc puts a fresh spin on the game's own concept; now, the residents of lumiose are subject to a series of events that from their perspective are borderline paranormal.
this is mostly shown in the hyperspace battle zones, which... are actually one of my favorite parts of the entire dlc! yeah even if they make it annoying to do special scans sometimes, i really like the battle zones for one main reason: to add to the lategame difficulty stuff present in the dlc, your hyperspace calorie timer ticks down during fights. suddenly, out of this one change alone, a huge pikmin-style emphasis is placed on sheer efficiency with every action you make both inside and outside trainer encounters. (i am a huge pikmin gamer and see this as a big w.) the rewards are also plentiful, especially in higher level distortions, so there is a lot of intrinsic value present in these distortions that really just incentivizes players to haul their ass through hyperspace as fast as possible and beat up as many other trainers as possible. feels really good to just plow through a bunch of pokemon like that. also the alpha trainers are a genuine challenge with the timer because all the pokemon have at least 252 hp ivs by virtue of being alpha and i'm fairly certain that at higher levels they're all both fully ev'd and iv'd as well with held items to boot. also the alpha size stuff makes their attack hitboxes that much bigger on aoe moves. if you underestimate them you will likely get at least one mon wrecked and that wastes a lot of your precious time, so you better lock in. also they will likely mega their pokemon. you have been warned.
anyway circling back to the original point. the flavor text after you beat these hyperspace trainers really caught me off guard because of how varied they were. some lumiose residents took it in stride, and adapted to their time in hyperspace. some were in there via quasartico holotech and didn't know what the fuck was going on. (shoutout to the one alpha trainer who just nonchalantly said they preferred jacinthe's pink holograms.) some of them were less flexible in this regard, and iirc a few trainers question if they just straight up died and this is the afterlife. instead of the npcs thinking in various ways about the urban redevelopment of lumiose, now they're left to contend with both that and now The Mysterious And Unusual Outcroppings Of Disturbing Hyperspatial Portals that not very many people know the full details behind. this also has effects on lumiose proper as well: pokemon are coming out of the distortions and ending up in lumiose, further affecting the ecology, structute, and biodiversity of the city.
there's this one neat side quest where you send a feebas to live in a canal, and after a while in-game the canal slowly starts to get fully populated by wild feebas until it becomes a regular spawn location for them. that is cool. that is an active depiction of the effects hyperspace lumiose has on its real counterpart that affects the player's gameplay in return. i like that a lot and i hope that sort of gameplay-tied cause-and-effect focused side quest becomes a bit more prevalent in the series than it was before as opposed to earlier gen "thanks for showing me that pokemon i couldn't remember the name of here's an evo stone" type stuff (though let it be said that i am also kind of fond those types of side quest and think a balance of the two is ideal!!).
main story is fine, not a whole lot to write home about but also nothing that really strikes me as "this writing stinks" which i'm cool with. the new megas are neat, i really like mega darkrai and crabominable but all of them are pretty fine. i think it's really funny and neat that they gave korrina a postgame team consisting of 6 stat trained roughly level 100 fighting type megas (95 / 95 / 97 / 99 / 99 / 100 for levels respectively). ansha is cool. i love her little credits sketch of her and diantha it's so real and peak.
dang im a bit tired of typing now, uhh dlc is cool gameplay loop is cool mega dimension is cool. im gonna go eat a 3000 calorie donut now
Interestingly, for whatever reason, we don't see a lot of French influence in English names for European countries. I would guess some of the cause is temporal - many countries / areas interacted with England either before the Norman invasion and subsequent French influence (e.g. Ireland), or afterwards (e.g. Latvia). However, we still could have seen French displacement of old names, e.g. Dutch displacing English Sweoland with Sweden. I don't particularly know why some variant of Alemagne failed to displace Germany. Alternatively, I don't know why Latin Germania versus Alemania influenced the English name.
I'm no linguistic scholar, but, since we saw the -ia drop from Latin Germania, I'd expect it to drop from an Allemagne or Alemania scion too. Allemanny would probably be too clunky, though. That e looks like it'd be dropped in practical vocalization, and it's not present in all verisons of Alemania / Alamania. Perhaps Almany would result? (Compare Latin Albania -> English Albany. I have no particular opinion on which sound the first A would take.)
Alternatively, Alemain or Almain could be a more direct French descendant, with a spelling and pronunciation (compare "champagne") that better matches my expectation for an English name of a non-French place.
Just fun things to think about.
that would make sense, but english is weird about where they do and don't keep the "ia" suffix. we dropped it for italy, germany, france, hungary, spain, etc, but left it in a bunch of others (australia, india, russia, most of the balkans). i honestly think it might be weirder that we did drop the "ia" for germany—we didn't for predecessor states like bavaria or prussia, or for austria which is right next door. i think there's linguistic justification for either way we want to imagine how the evolution of the name plays out in this alternate timeline
Happy new year folks!!
Sad new year folks ! ! !
i deadass do not remember typing up the za dlc thing what the fuckk?