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2008 WORDS III

Loving Words I

Loving Words II

Loving Words III

Separatum, et al.

Lebola Neighbors

Sepelition et al.

Sephiroth and Eruv

Miscellan. Words

Reading the OED I

Reading the OED II

Reading the OED III

Reading the OED IV

Reading the OED V

Very Rare Words I

Rare Words II

Rare Words III

Rare Words IV

Rare Words V

Rare Words VI

What's in a "Sill"?

Free Rice Interlude

Free Rice II

Free Rice III

Free Rice IV

International I

International II

Local Words I

Local Words II

International III

Free Rice V

Free Rice VI

Free Rice VII

Free Rice VIII

Free Rice IX

Free Rice X

Free Rice XI

Free Rice XII

Free Rice XIII

Free Rice XIV

Free Rice XV

International IV

Free Rice XVI

Free Rice XVII

Free Rice XVIII

Grigri--Amulet I

Grigri II- An Amulet

Free Rice XIX

Free Rice XX

Free Rice XXI

Free Rice XXII

Scandaroon

Free Rice XXIII

Free Rice XXIV

Free Rice XXV

"Nowhere" Words

Sunday Words I

Sunday Words II

Surprising Words

(A)mafufunyana

Ukuthwasa

Wrap-Arounds I

Wrap-Arounds II

Fr. Night Words I

Fr. Night Words II

Saturday Words

Diffident

Magenta/Solferino

Kagu

New OED Words I

New OED Words II

New OED Words III

Miscellaneous Words II

Bill Long 8/5/08

Reading the OED--a Book About It

One of my Kansas friends, Lance Woodbury, signaled his return to the US from two weeks in India by emailing me a story from the NY Times of August 3 about the recent book by Ammon Shea entitled Reading the OED. The story, and a related blog interview from months before, talk with somewhat muted wonder at how Shea, a moving man, gondolier and dictionary lover, could have spent an entire year reading the OED five days a week and 8-10 hours a day. Though the story of his interest in the dictionary is charming, of more interest to me are the words that were his favorites or were the ones that the NY Times columnist decided to focus on. I will devote this and the next essay to explaining those words, some of which I have already considered in these pages. Here are the two lists:

New York Times List

hypergelast
lant
obmutescence
plouter
deiphophobia
acnestis
bespawl
kankedort
petrichor
prend
incompetible
repertitious
vicambulist

Online Interview List

apricity
bouffage
father-waur
ignotism
introuvable
obmutescence
onomatomania
paracme
postvide
psithurism
sialoquent
velleity

There are 25 words here; one is repeated (obmutescence). Of the remaining 24, I have written on petrichor and psithurism and velleity. I have written on sialologue and various words ending in "loquent," and so the meaning of sialoquent ("that spits much in his speech") can easily be inferred from those essays. Thus, this leaves me with 20 words to explain here and in the next two essays. I really love the fact that others are fascinated by learning words, for they are certain to pick up some words that I haven't seen. It is a gift to all of us.

1. To the word hypergelast I would also add agelast. The former goes back to 1877 and means someone who laughs excessively. The Greek behind the word includes "hyper" (and you don't need an explanation of that one!) and gelan--to laugh. I like a 1947 usage: "The word 'hypergelast'..denoting the loud vacant laughers." I know of vacant stares and vacant buildings, but what is a "vacant laugh?" In the same (1877) essay, George Meredith also introduces us to agelast, one who doesn't laugh at all (alpha privative at the beginning of the word). Knowing this word, when all the surrounding people are ignorant of it, makes you giddy.

2. The NY Times article defined the verb lant as "to add urine to ale to give it more kick." Indeed, that is one definition of the verb, but this usage only goes back to 1630, while the noun lant, derived from land, and suggesting the idea of "urine, esp. stale urine used for various industrial purposes, chamber lye," is attested far before that time. The Century only defines it as "stale urine." From the Century: "Lant has been much used as a detergent in wool-scouring on account of the ammonium carbonate it contains. Though still used (dictionary was published about 100 years ago), it has been largely supplanted by ammonia, sodium carbonate, etc.." Then, there is this historical note: "The use of sulphurous acid, and of ammoniacal liquors in the form of lant or stale urine, is known (from drawings on the walls of Pompeii) to have been practiced by the Romans." Hm. How can they tell that it is lant on the walls? Here is a brief article for you, which talks about its use both as a cleansing and as a drink-enhancing item.

3. Obmutescence sounds like obtumescence, which means the same thing as tumescence, which is "swelling; swollen condition," but it is different. Whereas the preposition "ob" at the beginning of a word may indicate "inversely, in a direction or manner contrary to the usual" (such as an obcordate or obovate leaf), usually the preposition is either simply an intensifier or doesn't really affect the meaning of the following section of the word. For example obdulcorate as well as dulcorate mean "to sweeten." This is the way that the ob is used here, at the beginning of obmutescence. Thus, all we really need to do is to rush to the "mute" part of the word, realize that the 'escence' functions as a sort of "ingressive" usage (gets you going on something), and you have the definition open like a flower before you: "the state or condition of becoming mute, speechless, or dumb, esp. obstinately or wilfully so." The two aspects of the speechlessness, the "becoming" mute and the "wilfully becoming" mute are relfected in two quotations, one from 1646 and another from William Paley in 1795. "A vehement fear which naturally produceth obmutescence." Then, from Paley, "The obmutescence, the gloom and mortification, of religious orders." The phrase I like best in using the word is "shocked obmutescence" or "slipping into obmutescence." My favorite words in English that have this escence ending are things emphasizing growth: crescence or efflorescence. Just add obmutescence to the list..

4. Actually, the NT Times reporter made an error on the next word. He listed it as ploiter, but both the OED and Century have it as plouter. It is a Scottish word which means, for those of us who participate in spelling bees, that it might be used in the bee but will hardly ever be used in real life. Be that as it may, to plouter means to "dabble or flounder in water, mud, etc. with the hands or feet; to splash about or work in anything wet or muddy." Perhaps we get the word putter or potter about from the last words. The second OED definition is the one picked up by the NY Times article: "to move or work ineffectually or aimlessly."

5. Let's finish this essay with deipnophobia--dread of dinner parties. Actually, those of us who have spent some time in ancient Greek literature know that the Deipnosophistae of Athenaeus of Egypt was a popular work in the 2nd and subsequent centuries CE. The work describes the lengthy intellectual and historically-oriented conversation of those who supposedly sat at a Roman dinner table. Now that we know that deipnon is the Greek word for "meal" or "banquet," it easily follows that deipnophobia is a fear of these banquets. Perhaps those who live a socially-oriented life occasionally must face these fears. And, oh, be sure you don't confuse a deipno- word with deiparous. In the latter case the root is the Latin word for "god," and deiparous means "giving birth to a god." Somehow the Greek, theotokos, is more familiar to most people.

Let's continue on to the remaining 15 words.

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