Collective Nouns in English: A Bunch of Oddballs

A collective noun is a noun that denotes a group of people, animals, or inanimate objects. When we refer to a crowd of onlookers, a band of musicians, a flock of sheep, a cluster of stars, or a bundle of asparagus, the words crowd, band, flock, cluster, and bundle are collective nouns. Collective nouns are also known as group nouns, nouns of assemblage, nouns of multitude, nouns of company, or terms of venery.

Terms of... what?

Terms of venery. Terms of venery make up a special sub-category of collective nouns: They are collective nouns that refer to certain kinds of animals.

More specifically, the word venery means game animals. Venery derives from the Latin verb venari (= to hunt, to pursue), and defines both the practice of hunting and the hunted animals. (You may also refer to terms of venery as venereal nouns, but you'd better make sure you've brushed up on your Latin etymology before you deal with those raised eyebrows...)

Examples of collective terms of venery include a pride of lions, a skulk of foxes, a bouquet of pheasants, a leap of leopards, a peep of chickens, a charm of finches, a shrewdness of apes, a parliament of owls, a murder of crows, etc., etc. You get the picture.

Why are there so many collective nouns?

While it's true that nowadays we could easily get away with a group of this and a bunch of that, things were a tad more complex back in the 15th century, when most of these collective terms originated. Published lists of terms of venery had the status of social primers, and had to be memorized and adhered to by members of the upper classes. The eponymous hero of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "Sir Nigel" is laughed at and reprimanded when he fails to grasp the social significance of the distinction between a herd of swine and a sounder of swine. At a time when one risked social ridicule by letting slip a covey of pheasants instead of (the correct) a nye of pheasants, collective nouns (i.e. terms of venery), with all their variations and nuances, were potent markers of social status.

Why are most collective nouns so... weird?

If you are a Ruth Rendell fan, then an unkindness of ravens is a household term to you. If you are a die-hard ailourophile, then you'll make sure to say a clowder of cats, but a kindle of kittens. And if you can tell the difference between a scry of widgeons and a knob of widgeons (what in the name of all that is holy is a widgeon?), then you are well ahead of the rest of us. Truth be told, however, the meanings and derivations (i.e. the etymology) of most collective nouns of the sort have been lost in time and now are little more than exotic relics to us (e.g. a cete of badgers, and a dopping of sheldrake). Spelling errors by medieval scribes (e.g. school vs shoal of fish, clowder vs clutter of cats) can add to the confusion - or the fascination, depending on how you want to look at it.

Are collective nouns becoming a thing of the past?

Far from it. The tradition of inventive (or even fanciful) collective nouns is stronger than ever. Just as the medieval collective nouns of venery often evoked some trait of the animals they defined (as in a pride of lions and a leap of leopards), modern collective nouns can be just as witty. Here is a sampler:

a balance of accountants
a break of winds
a hug of teddy bears
a nucleus of physicists
a pile of proctologists
a rash of dermatologists
a ring of telephones
a scoop of journalists
a wince of dentists

Care to add your own?

Sources:

http://www.m-w.com

http://www.online-literature.com/doyle/sir-nigel/11/

http://careerfocus.bmj.com/cgi/content/full/333/7582/241

http://www.askoxford.com/asktheexperts/collective/a/?view=uk

http://users.tinyonline.co.uk/gswithenbank/collnoun.htm#Miscellaneous