spellers diary and ahnedonia and anfractuosity and animalier and aniseikonia

Once we get to the "an's" I feel I am in familiar territory since many of the words are derived from Greek. But this causes another problem for me, since several of the terms are so rich in intellectual culture or historical significance that I want to linger over them instead of focusing on Burmese cooking ingredients or animals that once haunted the Bactrian steppes. Nevertheless, I will list some, pause on some and have to skip a lot. I will only mention one more from "am's." It is a disease--amyloidosis- characterized by the deposit of protein in various bodily tissues and organs. I lost a beloved colleague, Professor Robert Art, to this disease in 2004, and it makes me tear to just to think about him, so I won't spend another second on it.

Dr. Freud is In

I want to start with one term I know how to spell, but which stimulates my Germano-Hellenico-philic inclinations. It is anaclitic, derived from the Greek verb meaning to lean upon and is defined as "of, relating to, or characterized by the direction of love toward an object (as the mother) that satisfies nonsexual needs (as hunger)." This is called Anlehnungstypus by Freud, and you can see the "leaning on" aspect of it in the word. Therefore an anaclitic relationship would be one characterized by deep need and bonding but without a sexual character to it.

Speaking of German loan words, I was hoping that the Collegiate would have anschauung, a great word from German meaning "an outlook, attitude, or point of view" (this is from the OED), but alas it isn't in our dictionary. Thus I have mastered another word for nought. I love the word not only because it suggests a "world view" (a great word for humanists), but because I once had a professor who loved to use the word and whenever he spoke it, his head would nod as if the pronunciation of the "uung" rattled his brain. A pleasant memory, to be sure, but I better get back to work.

Cruising on the An's

So, we can really mow down this list. Anacoluthon is a familiar rhetorical term, anacrusis is familiar to those who love Greek poetry, anadromous can be spelled by any Oregonian 4th grader (like lutefisk can be spelled by any person from the State of Washington), anaerobic is widely known even if you don't belong to Jenny Craig, anamnesis has deep theological and philosophical roots and anagnorisis, recognition, is familiar to those who know Greek tragedy. I probably will get tripped up by something like ancho, meaning chili, or andouille (andouillette), a pork sausage, because I have never made the study of food (in contrast to the eating of it) a serious focus. Despite Dr. Kirsch's advice, I still am trying to learn some scientific terms, such as ancylostomiasis and androstenedione (some kind of sex hormone), but until the latter makes the sports news I suppose it won't be tested. I am nervous about anestrous and anestrus, the latter of which is a "period of sexual quiescence" (hence, probably WILL be tested at the Senior Spelling Bee!) while the former is "relating to anestrus." Yikes, I don't think I understand the difference. Sort of like anthropophagous and anthropophagus. Guess I will just have to eat my heart out on these.

Then there are some other "an's" which should call for mention. An anhinga is some kind of "fish-eating bird," though I am pretty sure I have never encountered one. An ani is a cuckoo, to be anile is to be senile, and anisette is a kind of liqueur. An anna is a monetary unit of some country that is in use no longer. I hope they don't ask about obsolete monetary units in ancient Thailand. I think that would give me a baht time. A annatto (remember, Bill, two "n's" AND two "t's") is yellowish-red dyestuff, which I certainly would never have learned had it not been for this competition, and and annulet/annulus is a kind of ring. Easy enough to distinguish from amulet and annelid, but if you aren't paying attention, you can easily slip up. Well, I KNOW they will NEVER use the term anilingus; after all, this competition was held in the Methodist Church, I think, until the last few years.

A Few More Useful Terms

But there are a few more words in these pages which are quite useful to know, both for spelling bees and for life. I love the word anfractuosity, meaning tortuousness or winding. An anfractuous road would be full of windings; an explanation full of anfractuosity would be very intricate. Even though I love the word, I have to admit that had the Beatles named their song "The Long and Anfractuous Road," it might not have risen to the top... Anhedonia is another psychological term, meaning an inability to experience pleasure. I think this word might apply to more obsessive spellers that you might imagine. The adjectival form is anhedonic, and the OED gives this quotation from the NY Times in 1981: "The playwright transforms his despair into whimsical comedy. His anhedonic characters...."

I will close with animalier, a sculptor or painter of animals, animalcule, a minute or microscopic organism, and, one of my new favorites, aniseikonia, which is defined as a "defect in binocular vision in which the two retinal images of an object differ in size." Three Greek words ("not equal image") lie behind this word; I could imagine people slipping up on this if they are not wary.

Well, this was really a fun day. I think now I have to get to the antes and antis and then the ao's and ap's. See you then.