Word by word third edition

For many people, the dictionary is a relic once used by grandparents and is now, in its retirement, relegated to the dishonorable position of dust-covered doorstop. Lexicographers – those quiet, anti-social compilers of dictionaries – are, presumably, a thing of the past. Not so, proclaims Kory Stamper, longstanding lexicographer for Merriam-Webster. In this rousing debut that unveils the complicated craft of defining words and the science of unearthing the etymological origins of their meaning, Stamper proves the dictionary is a lexical reference that’s long been taken for granted.

Stamper sets the tone in her opening chapter, giving readers a first taste of what’s to come: a candid portrayal of the ins and outs of lexicography, delivered with sharp wit and exactitude. Recalling the day she was hired by Merriam-Webster, Stamper invites readers to the hushed confines and inelegant cubicles of the “modest two-story brick building” in Springfield, Massachusetts where word mavens work, in some instances for months at a time, to extricate the definition, pronunciation, and etymological origin of individual words. Such work requires a reverence for the English language not found in the average person.

«Lexicographers spend a lifetime swimming through the English language in a way that no one else does; the very nature of lexicography demands it. English is a beautiful, bewildering language, and the deeper you dive into it, the more effort it takes to come up to the surface for air.»

Wading through the English language to pinpoint the perfect definition of a word requires a noiseless work environment. The “weird sort of monastic” devotion lexicographers give to the English language, and their hallowed approach to the daily challenges of providing the public with an up-to-date dictionary, lends itself to a work space that demands people speak in whispers and celebrate their lexical triumphs with silent fist pumps. How else, Stamper asks, could a lexicographer be expected to determine the difference between the words measly, small, and teensy?

«There’s nothing worse than being just a syllable’s length away from the perfect, Platonic ideal of the definition for “measly,” being able to see it crouching in the shadows of your mind, only to have it skitter away when your co-worker begins a long and loud conversation that touches on the new coffee filters, his colonoscopy, and the chances that the Sox will go all the way this year.»

Colonoscopies are just the beginning of Stamper’s comedic contributions. She blends sophistication with humor at every turn, making the act of reading about dictionaries an absolute delight. Stamper was drawn to the life of a lexicographer, she asserts, recounting an incident when she embarrassed her daughter in public:

“Are you taking pictures for work again?”
“Just one.”
“Oh my God,” [my daughter] moaned, “can you ever just, like, live like a normal person?”
“Hey, I didn’t choose the dictionary life – ”
“Just stop – ”
“ – the dictionary life – ”
“MOM –”
“ – chose me,” I finished, and she threw her head back and sighed in exasperation.

Many of Stamper’s amusing asides are delivered as footnotes, such as her reaction to the 1721 edition of Nathaniel Bailey’s An [sic] Universal Etymological English Dictionary, whose subtitle goes on for another two hundred and twenty-two words and garners Stamper’s facetious remark: «They sure don’t title dictionaries like they used to.»

facetious fuh-see-shuh s adj: 1: not meant to be taken seriously or literally 2: amusing; humorous 3: lacking serious intent; concerned with something nonessential, amusing, or frivolous.

It stands to reason that a person who specializes in defining words would demonstrate an exemplary understanding of the English language, and Stamper more than proves herself a talented wordsmith. Her use of ten-dollar words is employed in a friendly manner. Some words are defined in the footnotes, while others remain undefined and will, fittingly, send many readers running to the dictionary. While the procedure for compiling defined words into a viable resource is fascinating, Word by Word would not be as entertaining were it not infused with Stamper’s snarky personality.

The work of a lexicographer, however, requires that the person – rather, the lexicographer’s personality – be removed from the equation. “You must set aside your own linguistic and lexical prejudices about what makes a word worthy, beautiful, or right, to tell the truth about language,” Stamper explains, because writing definitions isn’t about making hard and fast rules for a word – as so many people are inclined to think – but rather, it’s an act of recording how words are being used in speech and, more importantly, in publications.

The common misperception that lexicographers are the definitive authority on the English language – whose definitions and pronunciations of words are akin to law ordained by divine beings – has resulted in more than a few letters being sent by confused or outraged individuals to Merriam-Webster’s physical and digital inboxes. Perhaps the most compelling example of this concerns the 2003 release of the Eleventh Collegiate dictionary in which the word “marriage” was redefined to include the sub-sense (a secondary meaning of a word): «the state of being united to a person of the same sex in a relationship like that of a traditional marriage.» This new sub-sense was added because in the late 1990’s, when revisions to the Collegiate Dictionary began, the issue of same-sex marriage was widely debated, prevalent not just in speech but also in nearly every major news publication.

Six years after its publication, one person noticed the new sub-sense in the Eleventh Collegiate dictionary’s definition of “marriage,” took offense to it, and launched a fiery write-in campaign that inundated Stamper’s inbox with hundreds of complaints and accusations against Merriam-Webster, along with numerous threats to harm Stamper. These angry letter-writers maintained a strident adherence to the misconception that lexicographers somehow shape language, culture, and religion. Further, they failed to understand that the very act of writing about gay marriage (regardless of the vehemence they assigned to the idea of same-sex couples being legally wed) worked to create citational evidence of the word “marriage” being widely used in relation to gay couples. In other words, the efforts made by the appalled letter-writers indirectly worked to validate that the word “marriage” had, in fact, been due for a revisal of its definition to encompass its many usages.

From dealing with irate letter-writers to spending months teasing out the proper definition of overly complicated words like “is” or “a,” the work of a lexicographer is thankless. Lexicographers don’t have their names assigned to the dictionaries on which they work tirelessly. And the English language, fluid in nature and ever changing, never stops demanding that dedicated word connoisseurs hunch over their desks and puzzle out the most effective definition to encapsulate a words new usage.

«When the dictionary finally hits the market, there is no grand party or celebration. (Too loud, too social.) We’re already working on the next update to that dictionary, because language has moved on. There will never be a break. A dictionary is out of date the minute that it’s done.»

Word by Word is a sublime romp through the secret life of dictionaries; a guaranteed rapturous read for word lovers, grammar fanatics, and linguists.

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I dropped into a bookstore to find a little inspiration for something new. I speak a few latin-based languages, and often I feel myself gravitate towards the dictionary sections of said stores. I am a fan of etymology, and it certainly plays a significant role in my linguistic abilities. (Not entomology — that’s for you insect lovers!)
This book was facing outward on its shelf (rather than the typical spine view), which I believe those marketing majors know that will catch a wondering eye much easier in this position. I picked it up, read the preface, put it back, and immediately purchased it on my Kindle.
It was a joy to read — and it helped me first realize and then understand the challenges of a dictionary lexicographer. Who knew??
The author has a vast working vocabulary, and used it fittingly in her creative and evocative cogitation, and picturesque discourse. A plus for a Kindle version: the on demand-dictionary! It filled in the blanks every time I furrowed my brow on a word I did not know.
If you are a fan of expanding your vocabulary, etymology and/or languages, this is an entertaining must-have. Enjoy!

Kory Stamper has an informative and interesting book on the work involved to collect, define, and assemble editions of Webster’s dictionary. She has an accompanying blog that’s the answer to all you Scrabble people who like to say «That’s not a word.»

Firstly, «their» is not a singular pronoun. Pretending it is is either silly or lazy. No one with an education writes: «A driver should carry their registration at all times.» Just re-write and use the plural: «Drivers should carry their registration at all times.» And if you don’t want to use the universal «he,» at all, ever, for fear you are being some sort of «..ist,» then on the rare occasions you can’t use a plural noun, write «he or she» or «his or hers.» It is easy. really.

This book does not start well. Apart from the above-mentioned irritation, there are fly-by claims that could be interesting, if they had been discussed a bit more. Or at all, even. For example, she says that the word «stew» used to mean a whore-house. Interesting. I’d love to see some references to support that claim. And some discussion of how the word transitioned in meaning, with examples. That is the reason one buys this kind of wordy book; one is interested in words. But no, there is just a bald claim and that is it.

Then there’s the fact that the first few chapters sound like a self-indulgent teen auto-biography, full of descriptions of angst and self doubt about her job interview, her ability to do the work of a lexicographer, blah, blah, blah. Not interested. If I were, I could have bought any one of hundred genuine self-indulgent teen autobiographies.

The repeated obscenities are an annoyance and a distraction. Do we really need «f%^k» or «sh*t» every couple of pages?

Then there are odd usages. She says «an email came down the transom.» What? Things don’t come DOWN the transom. That makes no sense. A transom is the flat board that makes up the stern, or part of the stern, of a small boat. Things come OVER the transom, like a fish jumping into a boat. Interestingly, Miriam-Webster, the dictionary she works for, defines the phrase «over the transom» correctly.

However. Take a deep breath and get past these major flaws, and you find a book that in spite of them, is worth reading — if you are interested in what it means to be a lexicographer. That is the book’s subject; the day to day work of a lexicographer. When she is on task, and avoids PC silliness and swearing, this is a well-written and interesting book.

If you are interested in words, it is a worthwhile buy.

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