The Word Museum is a collection of words that have gone into disuse. Some of these words are absolutely marvellous. Rather than quote the entire book, I've selected a word for each letter of the alphabet.

abracadabrant - marvellous or stunning
barley-child - a child born in wedlock but in the first six months of marriage
chaser - a ram that has only one testicle
deosculation - kissing
extranean - an outsider
flamfoo - a gaudily dressed female
gallywow - a man destitute of power of begetting children
haggersnash - a spiteful person
infradig - below or beneath one's dignity
jannocks - fairness
kiddliwink - a small shop
leachcraft - the art of medicine or surgery
mastigophorer - a fellow worthy of being whipped
nicknackitarian - a dealer of curiosities
ogerhunch - any frightful or loathsome creature
papmeat - milk for babies
quignogs - ridiculous notions or conceits
repurple - to make purple again
sand-knocker - a man who grinds sandstone into grit
teaty-wad - a small portion of moist sugar tied up in a rag of linen of the shape and size of a woman's nipple
umstroke - the edge of a circle
vorago - gulf
walapang - to disguise oneself in order to commit theft
xanthodont - having yellow teeth
yesterfang - that which was taken, captured, or caught on the previous day
zythepsary - a brew house

 

Last week, in a choice instance of logophile clickbait, the Guardian asked a handful of well-known writers to give a few words on their favorite words. The result was a little like asking a bunch of chefs to describe their preferred knives, or inviting a group of carpenters to talk about the merits of different saws: a joyful, voluptuous disquisition upon the specialist’s tools.

 

Here's a link to the original article in the Guardian:

 

From plitter to drabbletail: the words we love

Dialect terms such as yokeymajig or whiffle-whaffle; all-time favourites like cochineal, clot or eschew; antiquated phrases such as ‘playing the giddy ox’ … leading writers on the words they cherish.

 

The words:

 

1. Hilary Mantel: nesh
2. Andrew O’Hagan: clart
3. Will Self: pipe down!
4. Emma Healey: clot
5. Eimear McBride: yoke
6. Neel Mukherjee: tight slap
7. Robert Macfarlane: apophany
8. Taiye Selasi: chale
9. Sarah Hall: gloaming
10. Nick Laird: thrawn
11. Aminatta Forna: plitter
12. Paul Muldoon: slipe
13. Tessa Hadley: cochineal
14. Blake Morrison: whiffle-whaffle
15. Paul Kingsnorth: swamm
16. John Sutherland: widdershins
17. Nina Stibbe: fetlock

I wasn't sure what to expect from this book, but what I got was a history of the English language based on 100 words. Crystal explores the origins of each of his 100 words in chronological order based on when they first appear (a few entries are more conceptual e.g. #60 Species is about the species naming system devised in the 18th century rather than the origins of the word itself). So for example, you have #3 and (8th century), #11 bone-house* (10th century) through #63 Hello (19th century). [Aside: hi (15th century) is older than hello and hey (13th century) is even older.] It keeps going through the 20th and 21st centuries with words like #89 PC, #97 Muggle, and finally #100 Twittersphere.

I've also apparently picked up some "eastern" emoticons according to #94 LOL without even realising it. o.O

*bone-house: a living human body

Glory of glories! A book about dead words! HUZZAH!

Some English words are no longer used. Jeffrey Kacirk poured through old dictionaries and found some gems. Let's go already!!! --->>>

Roozles: Wretchedness of mind; the "miserables".

Quanked: Overpowered by fatigue.

Spermologer: A picker-up of trivia, of current news; a gossip-monger; what we today would call a columnist.

Beblubbered: Swollen.

Puke-stocking: "Wilt thou rob this…puke-stocking [knave]?" 1 Henry IV Here, puke-stocking probably means dark-coloured, perhaps equivalent to puce. That it describes the material of the stocking or hose is less likely.


A few of the words have died, but been reborn…or maybe I mean reincarnated. Have a look...

Spooning: Spooning, in rowing, is dipping the oars so little in the water as merely to skim the surface.

All sorts: A slang term designating the drippings of glasses in saloons, collected and sold at half-price to drinkers who are not overly particular.


Some words could use a more detailed or clearer definition:

Special-bastard: A child born of parents before marriage, the parties afterwards intermarrying.

Spoops: At Harvard College, a weak, silly fellow, or one who is disliked on account of his foolish actions is called spoops, or spoopsy.

Biggening: Uprising of women. SEE Crying-cheese.

All righty…

Crying-cheese: Cheese given to neighbors and visitors on the occasion of the birth of a child.

…and that helped clear up biggening how?


Whereas some words mean just what you suspect (E.G. Egg-wife-trott: An easy jog, such a speed as farmers' wives carry their eggs to the market.), others do NOT (E.G. Babyshed: Deceived by childish tales. [I was sure it meant a place where babies were kept.]


The Word Museum is…scrumtrulescent! A must-read for wordies!


Rating Note: This is a ridiculous 5 stars. This book is not perfect. It's not even great. But it's just right for me, because I like words.


Here's a crusty old video I just re-uploaded for this review. It's of me reading and reenacting some of the words within this book. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08jR5gj5t8c

An interesting collection of words that Crystal thinks defines the English language. Either because they are new, or have been borrowed from all the people that have invaded in the past. If you like language, well worth a read.