Most of us take for granted that we can open up the dictionary when we need to know the meaning of the word “perquisite” or “modicum”. School children learn how to use a dictionary to look up unknown words (and to copy definitions) in the first few years of school. Authors and editors would be in big trouble today if they didn’t use a dictionary to examine the spelling and meaning of words. However, until the 1700′s, there was nothing that we would recognize today as a dictionary. There were hard word lists, for people who wanted to use these words in their letters to appear more educated. But there was no set way to spell words, and most people just used words in ways they thought sounded good. As Winchester’s book points out, Shakespeare could not look up the meaning of words he used in his plays, and the idea of “looking something up” did not exist. There were Latin-English dictionaries, and similar works, but nothing to allow the average person (or even scholars) to look up everyday words.

In the 1700′s, several people, including Samuel Johnson, tried to make a more comprehensive dictionary. Winchester includes a quote from Johnson’s dictionary (the entry for “elephant”) that is funny and cute. But it’s not something we would expect to see in a dictionary. Winchester says that Johnson wrote many of his own definitions and did a large amount of the work himself. It’s very personal, and some say quite biased.

The makers of the Oxford English Dictionary wanted to make a more professional, exhaustive record of the English language. They wanted to set a proper spelling and definition for every single word that has been used in English writing. They also wanted to show how each word has been used throughout history. It was to be not just a dictionary of usage, but a history of usage, spelling, and meaning. To say that this task would be difficult is a understatement. No one person could hope to complete it in a lifetime. It took years longer than they thought it would. Eventually, the dictionary committee sent out invitations to the English people, asking for volunteers to read works from various periods of history, noting the first appearance of words, and how they were used. The volunteers needed to write down the word, the work it was found in, and the sentence it appeared in.

It is hard for us to imagine the magnitude of such a project without the benefit of computers and Internet. This would still be difficult today, but we have such an advantage with our technology. Each sentence and definition was written painstakingly by hand, and each word was found strictly by reading through every sentence of every book. After the volunteers had turned in their sentences, the overseeing committee had to organize them alphabetically and chronologically, culling out duplicates and errors, and coming up with a final definition.

One man, Dr. W. C. Minor, submitted more than ten thousand words. His dedication and hard work were admirable and won the attention the chief editor, Professor James Murray. They struck up a friendship by letter, with Murray never suspecting that Minor was an inmate in an insane asylum. After several years, this was brought to Murray’s attention and they met several times, while continuing their letters.

Minor’s story is tragic and fascinating. He was born in Ceylon (now known as Sri Lanka) to American-born missionaries. As a boy, he loved languages, and learned several Eastern languages. When he was old enough for university, he returned to the US and became a medical doctor. He graduated just in time to become a army surgeon in the Civil War. Although he did not have to fight, he saw a bloody battle and had an experience that would make any person go over the edge. He became delusional and erratic. Shortly after this, he was admitted to a US asylum for a short amount of time. He was released, and went to England. He was known to his landlord and acquaintences as eccentric and strange, but seemed harmless until he shot and killed a man. For this crime, and because he was deemed insane, he was sentenced to go to an asylum again, for as long as they wanted to keep him.

Although Minor was not a serial killer, nor a cannibal, the description of his cell and demeanor reminds me of Hannibal Lector in the Silence of the Lambs series. When he was not having one of his episodes (where he believed that Irishmen were coming into his cell at night and forcing him to do horrible things, for example), he was a perfect gentleman, showing his manners and education. He was interested in books and painting, and his cell (which was actually two cells: he still received payment and pension from the US Army, which must have felt responsible for his condition) was lined with bookshelves. He lived in as much elegance as he could manage, but he was always aware that he was not free, and would likely never be free. Towards the end of his life, he started to have more religious leanings (since his missionary childhood he had drifted away from his beliefs and described himself at times as an atheist). He felt guilty for his past wild sexual escapades (both real and imagined) and as a punishment or token of apology to God, horribly mutilated himself (I’ll leave it up to the reader to peruse the full story if you so wish). During the years he spent locked up, the dictionary project gave him a purpose to live and be productive.

The Professor and the Madman appealed to my love of words, and my love of the Victorians. I had never heard of the OED, and was fascinated by its story. But most of all, I liked the story of the “crazy” man who was such a big part of the dictionary (and it still carries his efforts today). Winchester brings this out, too, but in our era of medicating (perhaps overmedicating) obsessed, eccentric people, we could have made Minor “normal” perhaps, but we would probably have killed his obsessive desire to contribute to the dictionary. Many schizophrenics (Winchester proposes that today we would call Minor a schizophrenic) are artistic, intelligent, gifted people. I’m not saying mentally disturbed people should go without therapy and medication when necessary, but it’s interesting to look at artists (Van Gogh for instance), writers, and public figures in the past who would today be forced to assimilate from their uniqueness into bland submission to the ordinary. Maybe we should search for a way to keep the extraordinary while seeking to heal.

For this and other works by Simon Winchester, see below: