If I were stranded on a deserted
island, and could have only one book, the choice would be an easy one
for me. I would pick my unabridged dictionary. Why, you ask? Well,
there are many reasons. For starters, an unabridged dictionary (UD)
is so much more than just a dictionary. The UD that I have is filled
with so much more than just words.
The first section of my UD is an
introduction. It gives the reader an outline of the history of the
English language, a guide to pronunciation, a key to pronunciation
and a list of abbreviations used within the dictionary. I find this
information interesting as well as useful.
After the intro comes the meat of the
dictionary – the words! I have been known to read my dictionary
just for fun. I like finding obscure words and using them with
people I don't like. This allows me to feel superior while, hopefully,
making the recipient feel inadequate and slightly stupid. This can
be a fun filled activity for any rainy afternoon.
As I write this, my dictionary is
sitting on the sofa next to me. The urge to open the dictionary and
pick a random word is more than I can take. The winner today is
bantling: 1. A young child; a brat. 2. a foundling; a bastard. 3.
figuratively, an immature product, as of an author or artist. Funny
how random frequently doesn't seem random. Ah,
but I digress.
After
the “words” section of my UD (all 2129 pages) comes the
supplements. The true beauty of an UD are the supplements. My
particular UD has 19 supplements, plus a full color world atlas.
Granted, seeing that my UD is from 1979, many of the countries shown
on these maps no longer exist, but they are useful for history
projects (or to just peruse for the fun of it – another activity
that I find immensely enjoyable). Many of the supplements are
dictionaries in and of themselves. Two of my favorites are A
Dictionary of Noted Names in Fiction, Mythology, Legend (
I have gotten a lot of mileage out of this section when it comes to
naming pets), and A
Dictionary of Foreign Words and Phrases (I have gotten a lot of
mileage out of this section by using information found here in
letters to people I don't like).
Other
supplements include Abbreviations Commonly Used in Writing and
Printing, Special Signs and Symbols, Forms of Address and Practical
Business Mathematics. While I
find the first three to be interesting and useful, the last can be
used to build a fire to attract nearby ships and airplanes (I'm still
on that island).
Other
parts of the supplements section include The Declaration of
Independence, The Constitution of the United States, all
the Presidents, Vice-Presidents and Cabinet Members of the United
States, A History of Canada (who cares), Air Distances between
Principal U.S. Cities, Principal Geographic Features of the World and
Commercial and Financial Terms (this
last one is obviously more
fodder for the rescue fire).
As you can see, my
UD is packed full of useful information which can provide hours and
hours of engaging diversion. But the real reason I would pick this
as my one and only book on that deserted island is this; every book
ever written is contained in its pages. The idea that every book
I've ever read and loved is there, in my UD, hidden within its 2129
pages, is something that fills me with the wonder of possibility. I
can't think of a better way to while away the days, weeks, months, or
years that I might have to fill if I really were stranded on that
elusive island.
As I
wrap up this missive, my eyes travel once again to my companion
sitting on the sofa next to me. What the hell – just one more word
(this is one of my favorite games (you probably already guessed
that)). The last word for the day is...queachy,
1. shaking; moving, yielding or trembling under the feet, as moist or
boggy ground. 2. thick; bushy.
This is what I would call a 'conceit' essay--that doesn't mean you're unduly proud, but I know you are already reaching for a dictionary to find the literary meaning. A conceit is a classic and traditional approach to a personal essay and you are in very good company, starting with the Father of the Personal Essay, Montaigne.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, you take your conceit and run and run with it, squeezing every possible drop of juice, exploring every imaginable angle. Your reader is utterly unconvinced that this is the one book he would like to have with him, but is perfectly willing to concede the force of the conceit for the writer and the force and fun she brings to elaborating it.