The word inscape<\/em> was coined in the 19th<\/sup> century by the British priest and poet Gerard Manley Hopkins. According to www.dictionary.com<\/a>, it means \u201cthe essential inner nature of a person, an object, etc.\u201d If you look it up on www.etymonline.com<\/a>, you won\u2019t find it. The OED<\/em> does not do much better: \u201cthe unique inner nature of a person or object as shown in a work of art, especially a poem,\u201d and then, \u201cperhaps from in<\/em>– \u2018within\u2019 + –scape<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n So we\u2019re invited to look at those two morphemes, in-<\/em> and \u2013scape<\/em>. In<\/em>– is one of the most common prefixes in English, especially when you consider its various forms, like il<\/em>-, im<\/em>-, and ir<\/em>-, forms of in<\/em>– caused by assimilation. It can occasionally be a little tricky because it can mean two quite different things: \u201cin, into, within\u201d and \u201cnot.\u201d It comes from the Latin in<\/em>-, which itself comes from the PIE root *en<\/em><\/strong>– meaning \u201cin.\u201d But in Old French it often appears as en<\/em>-, and as French words were imported into England, sometimes they came in with the en<\/em>-, and sometimes the en<\/em>– was converted to the more Latinate form, in<\/em>-. There are even a few words in contemporary English which don\u2019t know which prefix they want to use, like inquire<\/em> and enquire<\/em>.<\/p>\n –Scape<\/em> is a little trickier. It first appears in English in 1773 and means \u201ca scenery view,\u201d according to www.etymonline.com<\/a>. It derives from the word landscape<\/em>, which means “painting representing an extensive view of natural scenery,” from Dutch\u00a0landschap <\/em>“landscape,” in art, a secondary sense from Middle Dutch\u00a0landscap<\/em>\u00a0“region,” from\u00a0land<\/em>\u00a0“land” +\u00a0-scap<\/em>\u00a0“-ship, condition” (https:\/\/www.etymonline.com\/word\/landscape?ref=etymonline_crossreference<\/a>). This is what linguists call a back-formation: \u201cthe process of creating a new lexeme by removing actual or supposed affixes.\u201d [A lexeme is a unit of lexical meaning\u2014we might call it a word, except that a word can have various prefixes or suffixes that alter or add to the meaning of the root. An affix is a piece of a word that is attached to the word; in English we have prefixes and suffixes, but in some languages they actually have infixes, a piece that goes into the middle of a word to alter or add to the root meaning.] The word landscape<\/em> came into English from Dutch around the year 1600, which is why we call the word scape<\/em>, which does not appear until 1773, a back-formation. The morpheme \u2013scape<\/em> is then attached to other morphemes to make a variety of new words in English, all having the sense of landscape<\/em> but different, such as cityscape<\/em>.<\/p>\n But that morpheme \u2013scape<\/em> comes from the Old English word for \u2013ship<\/em>: word-forming element meaning “quality, condition; act, power, skill; office, position; relation between,” Middle English\u00a0-schipe<\/em>, from Old English\u00a0-sciepe<\/em>, Anglian\u00a0-scip<\/em>\u00a0“state, condition of being,” from Proto-Germanic\u00a0*-skapaz<\/em>\u00a0(cognates: Old Norse\u00a0-skapr<\/em>, Danish\u00a0-skab<\/em>, Old Frisian\u00a0-skip<\/em>, Dutch\u00a0-schap<\/em>, German\u00a0-schaft<\/em>), from\u00a0*skap-<\/em>\u00a0“to create, ordain, appoint,” from PIE root\u00a0*(s)kep-<\/em>, forming words meaning “to cut, scrape, hack” (https:\/\/www.etymonline.com\/word\/-ship?ref=etymonline_crossreference<\/a>). This is not the ship<\/em> that means \u201cboat\u201d but rather the \u2013ship<\/em> that we attach to all kinds of words: scholarship<\/em>, apprenticeship<\/em>, guardianship<\/em>, etc.<\/p>\n So perhaps we can see how Hopkins came up with the word inscape<\/em>: it is not like a landscape of one\u2019s interior self but rather the inner quality or condition of one\u2019s self. Anyone who has come across Hopkins\u2019s poetry in a literature survey class has struggled with his notion of inscape<\/em>, as well as with the accompanying term instress<\/em>, \u201cthe apprehension of an object in an intense thrust of energy toward it that enables one to realize specific distinctiveness. Ultimately, the instress of inscape leads one to Christ, for the individual identity of any object is the stamp of divine creation on it\u201d (Stephen Greenblatt, et al., eds. “Gerard Manley Hopkins.” The Norton Anthology of English Literature<\/em>. 8th ed. Vol. 2. New York, London: Norton, 2006. p. 2159). Hopkins derived this complex theological notion from his study of the medieval scholastic philosopher Duns Scotus.<\/p>\n So here\u2019s what is kind of sad about what happens in a language. This intriguing spiritual term gets picked up and used by others in what might be considered a tawdry fashion. If you Google inscape<\/em>, here are some of the first hits you\u2019ll get:<\/p>\n https:\/\/www.inscape.life\/<\/a>: a business that promises traditional meditation techniques and a place to go and meditate to help you \u201cFind Balance, Calm, and Clarity.\u201d<\/p>\n http:\/\/inscapesolutions.com\/<\/a>: \u201cInscape is a design enabler. We have been saying yes since 1888 with a versatile portfolio of systems, storage, walls and products that are infinitely adaptable, and always built to last. With care and consideration, and more than a century of expertise, we’re here to make your vision a reality.\u201d<\/p>\n An app: \u201cINSCAPE makes meditation approachable and relevant for today. \u00a0Merging traditional techniques with intelligent personalization, the app creates a place for yourself wherever you are. In as little as three minutes, INSCAPE will help you boost your awareness, enhance your emotional intelligence, energize or relax. Commuting, can’t sleep, anxious before a blind date or nervous about a tough decision at work?\u201d<\/p>\n