Monday, October 06, 2008

Dictionaries



My Literary Study class today had occasion to discuss Samuel Johnson's Dictionary, published in 1755. When I was in college the dictionary was touted as the first in the English language, although apparently that is not quite true--Johnson had a few predecessors. (Of course, I was also told that Robinson Crusoe was the first novel written in English. Ahem! Not true, either.)

But claims of originality aside, Johnson's dictionary still has much to be admired, not the least because it is, in places, ebulliently opinionated. My class liked this definition--

"Oats: A grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland appears to support the people."

--which they preferred that to the cute but more commonly quoted

"Lexicographer: A writer of dictionaries; a harmless drudge that busies himself in tracing the original, and detailing the signification of words."

The mother of all fun dictionaries, though, has to be Ambroce Bierce's Devil's Dictionary. Now, I'm not sure I can ever forgive Bierce for writing "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge"--that horribly sad and disturbing story about the deaf boy who goes out to play and returns a few hours later to find that the Civil War has just cut a bloody path through his home. But the Devil's Dictionary is marvelous. It's hard to believe that two such different works came from the same author.

Here are some samples:

CALAMITY, n.
A more than commonly plain and unmistakable reminder that the affairs of this life are not of our own ordering. Calamities are of two kinds: misfortune to ourselves, and good fortune to others.
CAT, n.
A soft, indestructible automaton provided by nature to be kicked when things go wrong in the domestic circle.
COMFORT, n.
A state of mind produced by contemplation of a neighbor's uneasiness.
And one just for English Majors:
GRAMMAR, n.
A system of pitfalls thoughtfully prepared for the feet for the self-made man, along the path by which he advances to distinction.

The whole book is wonderful. Just the thing to cheer you up when, say, your house has been entirely demolished by a flood.

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