(adv.) at full gallop; headlong.
Spain, on the other hand, were dour; their defenders sloughed around, enervated and out-sprinted, as though they carried their own urns in their arms. The midfield couldn’t conduct the chorus — they were, as Keats put it, “the spirit ditties of no tone.” This team seemed less Spain than a sketch of Spain.
The Paris Review, “Sketches of Spain; England Acquits Itself Well.”
Though the word is often used today as an adverb, tantivy also has history as a noun (a hunting call), an adjective (to be swift), and an interjection (as in the sound of the hunting horn or horses’ hooves). There is no known origin of the word, which perhaps explains its remarkably wide range of usage. But we thought it a fitting choice this week, with the World Cup still going at full speed ahead, the world’s best players swiftly footing across the playing field. At the Paris Review, a couple of poets review the games thus far, complete with soccer espionage and Miles Davis references. And, for a literary kick, take a moment to peruse Three Percent’s annual World Cup of Literature, which stacks up 32 competing titles from around the world.
