Hamlet
utters, “Words, words, words,” as a comment on how meaningless verbal
communication can be. Juliet similarly
questions, “What’s in a name? That which
we call a rose/ By any other word would smell as sweet.” Words, with all their different meanings, are
infinitely fascinating—and dangerous.
So what is
in a word? The entry for “word” in the 20-volume grandparent of the English
dictionary, the Oxford English
Dictionary, consumes seven pages with 29 listings for its first entry and
four for its second. A word is not to be
taken lightly, as some entries indicate.
“Word” is associated with the Ten Commandments, called the “Ten Words”
as far back as John Wyclif’s Bible in the 14th century.
The origin
of “word” goes all the way back to the Indo-European roots of English thousands
of years ago and even farther back to Sanskrit.
Not surprisingly, “word” has been a basic component of vocabulary since
language evolved.
As an element
of speech, the OED defines “word” as
“a combination of vocal sounds, or one such sound, used in language to express
an idea.” Words are powerful. Words bind people to promises. Words are permanent. Once uttered, words cannot be recalled, like
faulty merchandise. In Sonnet 34,
Shakespeare reflects, “The offender’s sorrow lends but weak relief/ To him that
bears the strong offences’s cross.” All of the words of apology in the world
cannot erase the harm done by hurtful words.
If you have
a dictionary, take five or ten minutes to familiarize yourself with how to read
it closely. It is not as simple as you
might think. Then pick a word, perhaps
at random, and look up and read everything you find about that word in your
dictionary. I guarantee that reading a
dictionary can be as absorbing as reading a novel.
Note: I began this
essay before the internet and e-dictionaries became so pervasive. While I prefer paper dictionaries, I imagine
that “reading” a dictionary on-line can be just as interesting as reading a
paper one.
Donna, your suggestion of using a paper dictionary inspired me to heave my huge Webster's 2nd down from the bookshelf to look up the word "glout," which my friend Molly played against me in Words with Friends, and with which I was unfamiliar. It is a Scottish variation of "gloat," also meaning "to look sullen." This gave me the opportunity to re-acquaint myself with the dictionary, which my professors in library school touted as superior to later editions (it was published in 1934). I forgot that it had all these wonderful full-color plates of things like butterflies, gemstones, and flags of the world (or the world in 1934 anyway), lots of black and white photos of things like naval vessels, and many detailed line drawings (no drawing of someone glouting, though).
ReplyDeleteI also found a rose pressed between the pages (specifically, between "testimony" and "tetrahedroid"). The dictionary originally belonged to my father, who brought it to college with him in 1939.
Darby, your comment reinforces the idea that one never knows what one might find in the dictionary! The placement of the found pressed rose is certainly a testimony in itself. What a wonderful memory of your father!
DeleteYes, it was!
DeleteThis entry reminds me of how I learned to "read a dictionary" during an assignment to explicate a poem (I chose Robert Frost's "Design") during my Honors English class.
ReplyDeleteI have been a dictionary reader since grade school when we had a red canvas-covered Thorndike-Barnhart version. (Reading it during math class was a great way *not* to waste my time.) At some point, perhaps sixth grade, we actually had dictionaries with etymologies in them. (My in-class reading time now extended way beyond math class; it's a wonder I came away from grade school with any learning at all.) I was definitely hooked on words by then, and I didn't even have to Jones for my favorite drug at home, because my family also had the World Book etymological dictionary. (I say "family," but really, the book--or books, two volumes--was *mine*.) Although I didn't think about that idyllic time of in-class dictionary reading in terms of career, I would certainly say that the seeds were sown then and the roots were already taking hold. All these decades later, I'm still reading dictionaries, and I'm sure I'll never get tired of doing so. While I may use the electronic version for quick reference, I prefer the paper versions for my extended reading sessions. I have an American Heritage (3rd ed.) at home, but for quite a while now I have been the proud owner of the Oxford English Dictionary (1933 ed., I believe). It was the (used) copy that I (and those who came before me) worked with at the Middle English Dictionary, and although not current, it is certainly more than sufficient for my reading habits. Nothing is better than supper with the OED; my lowly meal becomes a veritable feast. The last of my nephews is graduating from high school in a few weeks, and he, like the other two, is about to get his own copy of the American Heritage (5th ed.). Everyone needs a paper dictionary of some stripe, even these days. What's a person to do when the internet goes down?
ReplyDelete