61
" Mismatch between English’s pronunciation and its orthography is something that everyone, native speaker and learner alike, harps on. It feels like a bait and switch: after all, we learned as children that if words have the same cluster of letters at the end, they rhyme: hop on pop, cat in the hat. And then we encounter “through,” “though,” “rough,” “cough,” and “bough”—five words that all end with “-ough” and not only don’t rhyme but don’t even have similar pronunciations. But “won” and “done” and “shun” rhyme? Are you telling me Dr. Seuss lied to me about English? "
― Kory Stamper , Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries
65
" After Bailey came Samuel Johnson, His Cantankerousness. Son of a London bookseller, a university dropout, afflicted with depression and what modern doctors think was likely Tourette’s—“a man of bizarre appearance, uncouth habits, and minimal qualifications”—Johnson was bewilderingly chosen by a group of English booksellers and authors to write the authoritative dictionary of English. Because of the seriousness of the charge, and because Johnson was scholarly but not a proper scholar, he began work on his dictionary the way that all of us now do: he read. He focused on the great works of English literature—Shakespeare, Milton, Dryden, Locke, Pope—but also took in more mundane, less elevated works. Among the books that crossed his desk were research on fossils, medical texts, treatises on education, poetry, legal writing, sermons, periodicals, collections of personal letters, scientific explorations of color, books debunking common myths and superstitions of the day, abridged histories of the world, and other dictionaries. "
― Kory Stamper , Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries
75
" The one that every lexicographer offers as proof is "antidisestablishmentarianism." It's a word plenty of people are familiar with, but most of our citational evidence for it is in lists of long words, not in running prose, and when it does appear in running prose, it appears in sentences like "'Antidisestablishmentarianism' is a long word." When tasked with prying meaning out of a bunch of citations like that, you quickly discover that "antidisestablishmentarianism" is rarely ascribed a meaning in text. It's not the only one. "Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis" - a word that puzzlers and lexicographers call "P45" - sure looks like and sounds like the name of a great disease, and it is entered in our Webster's New International Dictionary, Second Edition, but it does not have any meaningful use. In fact, it appears to have been coined by the president of the National Puzzler's League in 1935 just to see if dictionaries would fall for it. We did. We're a little more careful now. "
― Kory Stamper , Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries
78
" There are some additional unmeasurable and unstated requirements to be a lexicographer. First and foremost, you must be possessed of something called "sprachgefühl," a German word we've stolen into English that means "a feeling for language." Sprachgefühl is a slippery eel, the odd buzzing in your brain that tells you that "planting the lettuce" and "planting misinformation" are different uses of "plant," the eye twitch that tells you that "plans to demo the store" refers not to a friendly instructional stroll on how to shop but to a little exuberance with the sledgehammer. Not everyone has sprachgefühl, and you don't know if you are possessed of it until you are knee-deep in the English language, trying your best to navigate the mucky swamp of it. I use "possessed of" advisedly: YOU will never HAVE sprachgefühl, but rather sprachgefühl will have YOU, like a Teutonic imp that settles itself at the base of your skull and hammers at your head every time you read something like "crispy-fried rice" on a menu. The imp will dig its nails into your brain, and instead of ordering take-out Chinese, you will be frozen at the take-out counter, wondering if "crispy-fried rice" refers to plain rice that has been flash fried or to the dish known as "fried rice" but perhaps prepared in a new and exciting way. 'That hyphen,' you think, 'could just be slapdash misuse or...' And your Teutonic imp giggles and squeezes its claws a little harder. "
― Kory Stamper , Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries
80
" To one group of people, the dictionary was handed to humanity ex coeli, a hallowed leather-clad tome of truth and wisdom as infallible as God. To another group of people, the dictionary is a thing you picked up in the bargain bin, paperback and on sale for a dollar, because you felt that an adult should own a dictionary. Neither group realizes that their dictionary is a human document, constantly being compiled, proofread, and updated by actual, living, awkward people. "
― Kory Stamper , Word by Word: The Secret Life of Dictionaries
