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the o.e.d.
THE MAGNA CUM LAUDE OF DICTIONARIES
by
HOWARD RICHLER
___________________________
Howard
Richler is a Montreal-area word nerd and author of these seven
books on a variety of language themes: Dead Sea Scroll Palindromes,
Take My Words, A Bawdy Language, Global Mother Tongue, Can I
Have a Word With You?, Strange Bedfellows and his most
recent book Wordplay:
Arranged and Deranged Wit ( May 2016, Ronsdale
Press, Vancouver).
Alas,
because language is in a constant state of flux, a lexicographer’s
work is never done. The first edition of the Oxford English
Dictionary (OED), replete with 414,825 words was completed
in 1928 and ceremonial presentations were made to President
Calvin Coolidge and His Majesty King George V. Supplements ensued
but not until 1989 did a second edition comprised of twenty
volumes appear. According to The Oxford Companion to the
English Language, this edition has “21,728 pages
and contains some 290,500 main entries, within which there are
a further 157,000 combinations and derivatives in bold type
(all defined) and a further 169,000 phrases and undefined combinations
in bold italic type, totaling 615,500 word forms.”
The
pace of change is ever-quickening. In March 2000, the 20 volume
OED, plus three volumes of additions, became available
online and every word in the OED is being revised.
So, 120 years after the first editor of the OED James
Murray launched an “appeal for Words for the OED,”
John Simpson, then the chief editor, invited “readers
to contribute to the development of the Dictionary by adding
to our record of English throughout the world. Everyone can
play a part in recording the history of the language and in
helping to enhance the OED.” I believe this project
represents one of the greatest feats of scholarship ever undertaken
and accomplishes for lexicography what the Human Genome Project
is doing for biology.
Words,
and new senses of existing words, are flooding into the language
from all corners of the world. Only a dictionary the size of
the OED can adequately capture the true richness of
the English language throughout its history, and the developments
in English. By the time the revisions are completed sometime
between 2025 and 2030, the English vocabulary will most likely
have at least doubled. As a result, there may not even be a
print edition as it would require close to fifty volumes to
complete it. One reason so many words are being added is because
of the lexicographic advancements in the non-British and non-American
Englishes, such as African and Asian varieties, whose words
are increasingly being recorded in the OED. There is
no longer only one English language; rather English is now available
in a variety of flavours.
Interestingly,
the revision in 2000 began not with the letter “A”
but with the letter “M.” I asked John Simpson why
this was done and he replied that “the OED editors
wanted to start the revision at a point halfway through the
dictionary where the style was largely consistent, and to return
to the earlier, less consistent areas later.” In any case,
by 2010 all words from M to R had been revised and since then
this alphabetical format has been abandoned and every three
months we now find revised entries across the alphabet. For
example, in March 2017 pogonophobia, “strong
dislike of beards” was added as well as heliiopause,
“the astronomical term for the very outer edge of the
solar system beyond which the solar wind in undetectable,”
and genericide “the process by which a brand
name loses its distinct identity.”
Aside
from cataloguing virtually every English word of the last 1000
years, the OED, in its online incarnation, offers a
host of useful features for the lexicographically-minded:
Timelines
In graphic form, timelines are provided that highlight the
year words are first recorded in the OED. Hence,
the year I was born also featured the arrival of the words
cappuccino, cybernetics and transistor whereas
1616, the year Shakespeare expired saw the birth of acquiescent,
incidental and Kurd.
Top 1000 Sources
If you guess Shakespeare as the most frequent quoted OED source,
you're not far wrong. The Bard, however comes in second and
is bested by the London Times (39,884 quotations
versus 33,127). Rounding out the top five are #3, Walter Scott,
#4, the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society
of London and #5, Encyclopaedia Brittanica.
The top North American source is the New York Times at
#11 and the Globe and Mail takes Canadian honours
at #212. I don't think too many people would guess the Canadian
runner-up -- The Daily Colonist of Victoria, B.C.
at #431.
Historical
Thesaurus
The historical thesaurus is a taxonomic classification of
the majority of senses in the OED. It can be thought
of as a kind of semantic index to the contents of the dictionary.
It can be used to navigate around the dictionary by topic,
find related terms, and explore the lexical history of a concept
or meaning. It is divided in three categories, the External
World, the Mind and Society. So for example, if you were researching
Clairvoyance, you would click on External World and then to
the Supernatural heading, then to Paranormal and finally Clairvoyance
where you would find several entries such as “second
sight” defined as a supposed power by which occurrences
in the future or things at a distance are perceived as though
they were actually present.”
Category
Section
Although the online OED affords word lovers a myriad
of ways to explore the English language, the largest area for
searches occurs in the category section that is sub-divided
into four parts: Subject, Usage, Regions and Origin. Under Subject,
one can check words on a plethora of topics such as Education,
Military and Law.
For
example, in the Law section, there are over 8,000 words, such
as recusal, abeyance, and codicil, many of which will
be known to those familiar with legal terms. However, for readers
who delight in arcane words, you will discover expressions such
as bastardy order “an order made by a magistrate
for the support of an illegitimate child by a putative father”
and alnage, “the action of ... determining whether
woolen cloth conforms to particular standards of shape and quality
as required... under British law.” For those mining obscure
legal words you'd likely find them in legal sub-categories such
as Medieval, Ecclesiastical and Roman law. For example in feudal
times bloodwite referred to a fine payable for the
shedding of blood,” whereas lairwite, was a “fine
for fornication or adultery with a bondwoman.” Corsned
in Old English law referred to type of trial by ordeal in which
an accused person would eat a one-ounce piece of barley bread
and cheese which was consecrated by exorcism. Supposedly, if
the accused was guilty, his eating the holy bread would cause
him to go into convulsions and choke. In days of yore, reaggravation
was something best avoided as it referred to “the second
warning given to a person before final excommunication.”
This, however, was probably not as dangerous to your well-being
as perduellion which in Roman law denoted high treason.
Also in Roman law, it wasn't necessarily a good thing to be
emancipated as this could refer to being delivered into servitude
or subjugation because emancipation was often effected by fictitious
sale.
Cornucopia of English flavours in the OED Online
The Regions category demonstrates the incredible variety that
marks 21st century English. And even though English is spoken
virtually everywhere on this planet it may not seem like the
same language to all based on distinctive vocabulary one finds
in different parts of the English-speaking world. Former British
colonies often display flavourful Englishes. In Jamaica, nyam
means to “eat voraciously” and Babylon is a “dismissive
term for something regarded as representing the degenerative
or oppressive nature of white culture.” In South Africa,
skindering is a word for gossip and if you're babalaas,
you're suffering from a hangover, which is probably not kwaai,
a slang term for “cool.” It's also not kwaai
to be a moegoe, a country bumpkin or gullible person.
In West Africa you don’t remove someone from authority,
you destool them which may be a result of a palaver,
a “dispute.” Colloquially, palaver can be used to
mean “problem,” as in “That's your palaver.”
In New Zealand, you don’t attend a funeral but a tangi
and if a New Zealander tells you to hook your mutton,
you haven't received an invitation to dine on sheep, rather
you've been advised to “clear out.”
In
India, you'll find that familiar words might have very different
meanings. For example, intermarriage refers not only
to people of different religions getting hitched but also to
people from different castes. Accomplish often will
have the distinct sense of “to make complete or perfect”
and cabin usually refers to an office or office cubicle.
If someone in India or other South Asia locales says they’re
going to send you their biodata, understand the term
to mean curriculum vitae and not their genetic makeup. We in
Canada call where we put the luggage in our car the trunk; the
Brits call it the boot but in India it is called the
dicky. Also certain terms that have been obsolete for
over a century in England live on in India, including the verbs
condole “to offer condolences” and prepone
“to bring forward to an earlier time or date.” Unfortunately,
the euphemistic term eve-teasing is heard all too often
in India; it refers to the sexual harassment of a woman by a
man in a public place. One of the more amusing descriptions
of a person in East Asia is astronaut. This designation
describes a “high-flying” business person, semi-permanently
in transit between locales such as Hong Kong and Vancouver because
his/her family has emigrated.
And
even when you happen upon a country where most people speak
English as a first language, don't assume you'll understand
the lingo. In Australia if someone asks you where the dunny
is, they’re looking for the toilet. If you've been referred
to as a wowser, don't feel complemented as it means “party-pooper”
as the term refers to a puritanical person who disapproves of
dancing and drinking. Alas, it is not only Down Under where
you may feel at a linguistic loss partying in an English-speaking
area. In Scotland you are not the life of the party if you are
described as fire-raising. You are accused of arson!
CANADIAN
ENGLISH, EH?
The
Oxford Companion to the English Language (OCEL) is
missing an "s" at the end of its title. OCEL
has headings for over four hundred varieties of our multitudinous
mother tongues, such as Australian English, Singapore English,
Indian English and Black Vernacular English. I've never even
heard of some of the varieties, such as Babu English, which
is described in the OCEL as “a mode of address
and reference in several Indo-Aryan languages, including Hindi,
for officials working for rajahs, landlords, etc,”
My
mother tongue is actually one of those mutants listed in OCEL.
To illustrate the particulars of this form of English, I've
concocted the following paragraph which consists of many words
and terms found in the OED that might only be understood
by Canadians: “The party was attended by rubbies sporting
Molson muscles drinking mickeys and Bloody Caesars. The food
eaten by the hosers consisted of tourtieres and Nanaimo bars,
along with poutine mostly uneaten and chucked down the garburator.”
Some explanation may be in order. Rubby is defined in the OED
as “an alcoholic who drinks an improvised intoxicant,
such as rubbing alcohol . . . ” Molson muscles is a jocular
term for a paunch, mickey is defined as “chiefly Canadian,
a small bottle of libation holding 3.75 ml,” and a Bloody
Caesar, is a drink consisting of vodka, clamato juice, hot sauce
and Worcestershire sauce that's virtually unknown outside of
Canada. It was invented in Calgary in 1969 by bartender Walter
Chell. A hoser refers to a stupid, unsophisticated person and
the term was popularized by the fictional McKenzie brothers
in their skit Great White North on SCTV. Surprisingly, poutine
only made into the OED in 2006; Nanaimo bar, originated
in Nanaimo B.C, in the 1950s. It is defined as a “dessert
consisting of a base made from a mixture of crushed biscuits
and covered with a vanilla buttercream filling and a chocolate
glaze, served cut in squares.” A garburator is a waste
disposal unit found underneath a sink designed to shred waste
into small pieces that can pass through household plumbing.
The OED adds that “the form Garberator is a proprietary
name in Canada.”
The
OED informs us that certain words take on distinct
senses in Canada. Not surprisingly in Canada, bilingualism means
more than speaking one language and refers to the government
that promotes the use of French and English throughout large
segments of the population. Acclamation also acquires a distinct
Canadian sense when it is used to mean an election to an assembly
without opposition or by unanimous or overwhelming support.
Even adjectives can be Canadianized as is the case of impaired
when it refers to improper driving caused by alcohol or narcotics.
If
you spend any amount of time with Americans, you're likely to
be apprised that part of your lexicon are quaint Canadianisms.
For example, when an American is nauseous, she won’t reach
for Gravol but for Dramamin. And while Javex, and Varsol may
be Canadian household items, an American will not know what
these terms mean and will reference them as chlorine bleach,
and mineral spirits respectively. The OED extends this point
by listing the terms block heater and power bar as “chiefly
Canadian.” In Canada, it is clear that a power bar refers
to an electrical cord containing a number of outlets, whereas
in the US, the OED informs us it could mean a proprietary
name for a type of snack food and in the past to a tread on
a tractor tire. The term blue box originated in Canada referring
to the blue plastic box used for the collection of recyclable
household items in many Canadian municipalities. Its first citation
in 983 comes from the Toronto Star but it seems to
have spread overseas as there is a 2010 citation from the Birmingham
Evening Mail. Also, I was not aware that the term crowd-surfing
originated in Canada. The OED defines it as “the action
of lying flat while being passed over the heads of members at
a rock concert, typically from jumping into the audience from
the stage. Its first citation occurs in the Globe and Mail
in 1989 but by 2002 we find its use in the New York Times.
I
suspect that there are few people who are aware that muffin
before the Tim Horton era had a distinct Canadian sense. The
OED defines it as “a young woman...who regular
partners a particular man, during a social season.” The
first citation in 1854 states “I had a charming muffin
yesterday. She is engaged to be married, so don't be alarmed.”
Its last citation from 1965 testifies to the term being archaic.
I
was perplexed as to why the OED includes the term pocket rocket
which is defined as “a nickname for a small person regarded
as a very fast or energetic person (originally a nickname given
to Canadian hockey player Henri Richard).” Surprisingly,
this term isn't considered worthy of inclusion in the Canadian
Oxford Dictionary which has a far larger collection of
Canadian terms. On the other hand, the OED does not
contain these jewels of Canadiana: all-dressed, smoked meat
and shit-disturber, but worry not as I have appealed for their
inclusion.
for
more of Howard Richler:
The
Co-opting of the Word 'Elite'
Calling
the Caliphate Wannabes Daesh
Wordplay:
Arranged and Deranged
How
Happy Became Homosexual
Linguistic
Correctness Redux
No
Apology for Neology
The
Enigmatic Palindrome
We
Stand on Cars and Freeze
As
You Like It.
Can
I Have a Word With You
The Significant Other Conundrum
Yinnglish-Schminglish
The
Oxfordization of Poutine
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