You're Not Currying Favor. You're Grooming a Horse.
The next time you watch someone laugh too hard at the boss's jokes, nod along with an idea they clearly hate, or volunteer for the committee nobody wants, you can tell them exactly what they're doing. Linguistically speaking, they're brushing a fallow horse. And the horse is evil.
First: What Does "Curry" Even Mean Here?
Not the spice. Not the stew. To "curry" an animal means to groom it, brushing and cleaning with a currycomb. The word comes from Old French "correier," which meant "to prepare something." So currying a horse was literally getting it ready, smoothing it down, making it presentable. A very specific, very practical task.
This matters, because the second word in the phrase is where things get strange.
Meet Fauvel
In 14th-century France, someone wrote a satirical poem about a horse. The poem was called "Roman de Fauvel," and the horse at the center of it was named Fauvel. In Old French, "fauve" or "falve" meant a light-brown or chestnut color, roughly what we'd call "fallow" today. So Fauvel was essentially "The Chestnut One."
Except the name wasn't just descriptive. FAVVEL was an acronym. Each letter stood for a vice: Flaterie (Flattery), Avarice (Greed), Vilanie (Vileness), Varieté (Fickleness), Envie (Envy), and Lascheté (Cowardice). The horse wasn't just a horse. The horse was a walking collection of humanity's worst qualities, spelled out in his own name.
Fauvel was reportedly modeled after Enguerrand de Marigny, an advisor to King Philip IV. Medieval political commentary goes hard.
The Two Expressions That Started It All
The French had two related idioms built around this horse. "Estriller Fauvel" literally meant "to groom the fallow one." Idiomatically, it meant to lie or trick people. The expression "correier fauvel" carried the same double meaning: brush the chestnut horse on the surface, flatter and deceive underneath.
So when you groomed Fauvel, you weren't just cleaning a horse. You were flattering a six-vice acronym for personal gain. The image was pointed. Everyone who heard it knew exactly what kind of person you were describing.
By the 15th century, this had crossed into English. Middle English speakers were saying "currying Fauvel" and meaning the same thing the French meant: hollow performance in the service of self-interest.
Then Folk Etymology Did What It Does
Here's the part that stings a little if you love words. Nobody in 16th-century England knew what "favel" meant. The horse was forgotten. The poem was forgotten. The six vices were definitely forgotten.
"Favel" sounded a lot like "favor," and given what the phrase actually meant, "favor" made logical sense. So that's what people said instead. "Curry favel" became "curry favor." A very specific corrupt horse was replaced by a vague abstract noun. The satirical acronym dissolved into ordinary language and nobody noticed.
This kind of shift is called folk etymology, where a word or phrase gets reinterpreted to match something more familiar. It happens all the time. It just usually doesn't involve destroying a 700-year-old political cartoon in the process.
What You're Actually Saying
The phrase we use today to describe sycophantic flattery came from a satirical French poem mocking a real political figure. The horse in that poem embodied every human vice. His name was a six-letter acronym of moral failings. Grooming him was the symbol of shameless self-serving performance.
All of that got compressed, forgotten, and smoothed over into two ordinary English words.
Your language is haunted by a 14th-century political cartoon. And it shows up every time someone brings the boss coffee they didn't ask for.
Next time you hear "curry favor," you know whose horse it is.
Source: Allthingslinguistic