Loving Words II
Bill Long 8/26/08
From Holmes to Trench
I continue with a quotation from "The Autocrat's Autobiography" in OW Holmes Sr's Autocrat of the Breakfast Table:
"When I feel inclined to read poetry I take down my Dictionary. The poetry of words is quite as beautiful as that of sentences. The author may arrange the gems effectively, but their shape and
lustre have been given by the attrition of ages. Bring me the finest simile from the whole range of imaginative writing, and I will show you a single word which conveys a more profound, a more accurate, and a more eloquent analogy."
Now isn't that a provocative statement, especially the last sentence? A single word, in Holmes' judgment, conveys a more profound, accurate and more eloquent analogy that the "finest simile" from imaginative writing. The only way that an author can write like this and mean what he says is if he has been touched by the fire of words. Just as Holmes' son would be touched by the fire of the Civil War, and would always recall those early days to later audiences, so the elder Holmes was, at his core, enraptured by words. Thus, it is no surprise that Holmes Sr. probably invented more English words in the 19th century than any other person, with the possible exception of Jeremy Bentham. Though he dealt all his professional life with the tissues of diseased people, the real tissues that held together his heart were words.
(Re)Trench(ing) on Richard Trench
Holmes' encouragement would have been enough for me doggedly to continue my expositions of words, but then I met up again with Richard Chevenix Trench (1807-86), an Anglican archbishop and poet. The reason I say I met up with him again was that I first "met" him in theological seminary more than 30 years ago. Why? Well, I had devoted myself to the study of NT Greek and was teaching the subject to my fellow students when I came across his 1858 work Synonyms of the New Testament. In it he discusses about 30 or 40 terms used in the New Testament which had a rich significance in ancient Greek literature or philosophy. His Synonyms was the first of its kind in English, and it is not an overstatement to say that it contributed to the massive efforts of the 20th century, culminating in the two huge "Theological Dictionary" projects, which minutely dissect every important word cluster in the Bible.
In the preface to that work he makes a statement that, in the context of Holmes' words, sliced into me like a snickersnee. He said:
"I have never doubted that....there are few things which we should have more at heart than to awaken in our scholars an enthusiasm for the grammar and the lexicon [note--I am still working on the former!]. We shall have done much, very much for those who come to us for theological training and generally for mental guidance, if we can persuade them to have these continually in their hands; if we can make them beleive that with these, and out of these, they may be learning more, obtaining more real and lasting acquisitions, such as will stay by them, such as will form a part of the texture of their own minds for ever, that they shall from these be more effectually accomplishing themselves for their future work, than from many a volume of divinity studied before its time, even if it were worth studying at all, crudely digested, and therefore turning to no true nourishment of the inner man," pp. vi-vii.
Though I might have seen this preface 30+ years ago, it was lost on me. So, with the pressures of life and of trying to "make it" in a word at the end of the 20th century, I laid aside my quest for words, considering the quest for recognition and accomplishment in conventional channels (law, academia, religion) to be what I "really needed" in life. Only when my ambitions with respect to all three of those fields crumbled did my earliest lover, words, return to me.
A Conversation with "Lady Words"
She asked me where I had been all these years and why I thought that looking elsewhere for pleasure would have satisfied me. I tried to explain to her--that I had to make my way in the world, and that I only left her embrace because of the "glitter" and "surface charm" of all the other delights. When I embraced those delights, they all felt so good for a while. I learned their vocabulary and means of action in the world, but ultimately they didn't provide me the kind of anchor and desire for sure knowledge that I wanted out of life. She patiently listened to me, and then told me that I had stayed away from her far too long, that my search to find satisfaction and fulfillment in other areas certainly taught me valuable lessons, but that the true riches in life were to be found in following her.
I felt like Hercules at the crossroads, and realized that I had to make a choice. I could ignore the gentle call of words and return to my rather frenetic chasing of the "skirts" of affirmation from this world. I kept at it so long, I think, because I truly wanted that kind of recognition, both because I respect people and because I believe that human accomplishment, in any field, ought to be embraced and affirmed. Or, I could lay aside my concerns about financial stability (one of the curses of the baby-boomers is our worry that we will all end up penniless and begging along the side of a road with a cardboard sign asking people to give us anything they can) for now and just focus on what I know brings me the kind of riveting intellectual pleasure like nothing else. So, I have decided upon the latter course.
Which takes me back to Trench--in the last essay...
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