The Word Watchers

Legendary Lexicographers

AskOxford invited John Simpson, Chief Editor of the Oxford English Dictionary, to select five lexicographers for the Dictionary Hall of Fame:

Pride of place has to go to Samuel Johnson, or Dictionary Johnson as he was often called. Johnson’s Dictionary (1755) changed the face of English lexicography. Most people remember him for his witty (or cutting) definitions, such as ‘Patron, a wretch who supports with insolence, and is paid with flattery’, or ‘Oats, a grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people’. But alongside his tongue-in-cheek humour Johnson introduced a new standard to English lexicography. His Dictionary was the first to bring together the features we recognize in dictionaries today: clear, elegantly written definitions backed up by written evidence; etymologies in their distinctive square brackets; numbered meanings; and an acceptance that a dictionary is only a snapshot look at a language that is constantly changing. Any lexicographer today can appreciate Johnson’s (mischievous?) candour in stating that "every other author may aspire to praise; the lexicographer can only hope to escape reproach".

Noah Webster was America’s answer to Samuel Johnson. A fervent patriot, Webster wanted to produce a dictionary which would demonstrate that American English had come of age. In his youth he had dabbled with a plan to reform American spelling phonetically, and even published articles in his own phonetic script. Later, by the time he came to research and draft his own dictionary, he had realized that such a revolution was too radical to be accepted by his fellow citizens. But the spelling changes which he did promulgate in his dictionary (such as catalog, color, humor, and program) became the American standard. He was 70 when his greatest dictionary was eventually published, in 1828. In keeping with Webster’s pedagogical background, it has none of Johnson’s flights of fancy, but the sober clarity of his definitions rapidly made "Webster" a household name throughout the United States, and subsequently the world.

The nineteenth century saw momentous changes in scientific technique, as the world of nature was mapped in increasing detail by biologists, chemists, geographers, and others. Scholars in continental Europe had begun to apply similar techniques to their study of language, and in Britain James Murray took up the challenge of preparing a dictionary which would map out the history and meaning of the vocabulary of English throughout the world with scientific exactness. His dictionary, first called A New English Dictionary, and subsequently the Oxford English Dictionary, was published in regular instalments between 1884 and 1928. Murray was a schoolmaster when he took on the daunting task in 1879. It is difficult to judge what was his greatest achievement. Did it lie in encouraging thousands of volunteers across the world (including the notorious Dr Minor) to contribute material for the dictionary from their private reading? Or was it the development of an editorial policy which in many ways informs modern editions of the dictionary today? Or was it just his indomitable stamina, which saw him through thirty-seven years as Editor – as far as the letter T, upon his death in 1915?

The twentieth century has played host to many celebrated lexicographers. One of the most original was the New Zealander Eric Partridge. After serving in the First World War, Partridge devoted his life to writing about the vagaries and curiosities of language, and compiling dictionaries which documented his passion. He is perhaps best known for his Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English, first published in 1937. It was a dictionary, he wrote, "at which I have worked harder than (I hope, but should not swear) I shall ever work again". Although paying due regard to Murray’s historical method, Partridge was rigorous in allowing his own experience and caprice to seep through the cracks in his concise lexicographical prose. It may be frustrating for later scholars to find that a first usage is hinted at in, say, the late nineteenth century, without the documentary evidence necessary to substantiate finally such a claim, but you often feel that even without the conclusive proof, Partridge may often be right. To my mind, his greatest achievement was the lesser-known Dictionary of the Underworld. This is a comprehensive, analytical listing of the cant and slang of convicts, mobsters, and other sharps which Partridge pieced together from the detailed inspection of many out-of-the-way published and manuscript (and who knows what other) sources, to illuminate this vast but hidden recess of the language.

It was a fellow New Zealander, Robert Burchfield, who brought the Oxford English Dictionary into the twentieth century, and paved the way for the comprehensive ongoing revision which the dictionary is currently undergoing. Burchfield took on the job of Editor of the Supplement to the Oxford English Dictionary in 1957, and masterminded a project which eventually spanned twenty-seven years of editorial work. His Supplement concentrated on the English of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and is perhaps most significant for his appreciation that the OED should expand significantly its coverage of what later became known as World English. As one of the leading lexicographers of the twentieth century, Burchfield ensured that hundreds of texts from Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, and other regions where English was a first or major language were read by the dictionary’s reading programme, so that the relevant materials were at hand for editors to craft into scholarly dictionary entries.

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