| [WOWZE] | |
|---|---|
| A conscientious tangoist inflated with her vanity Attempting to excel a silly partner in inanity | [Frontispiece] |
| PAGE | |
| [BRIPKIN] | |
| A person whose apparel by its conscious imitation lies Respecting the society in which his limitation lies | [9] |
| [DIABOB] | |
| A complicated artifact devised in proof of amity Producing to æstheticism visual calamity | [15] |
| [HUZZLECOO] | |
| A conversation intimate, intensific but amical Surcharged with personalities outrageously dynamical | [37] |
| [JIRRIWIG] | |
| An unaffected traveler engrossed in Touristology, A middle-western species of the Baedeker biology | [47] |
| [KIPE] | |
| Evaluating notice with impertinent serenity, The envious propensity of feminine amenity | [53] |
| [QUOOB] | |
| An undress-suited being in an access of humility Apologizing vainly for apparent incivility | [77] |
| [SPLOOCH] | |
| The acme of ineptitude whose quality unfortunate Assails our sensibilities with agony importunate | [89] |
| [TASHIVATE] | |
| Indulgent inattention to a chatter of banality Emotionally answered with a feeling of tonality | [93] |
| [WOG] | |
| A thinglet unpremeditated marring one’s consistency Or dignity or pulchritude with devillish persistency | [109] |
INTRODUCTION
Yes, I have written a dictionary. Worcester and Webster are all right in their way, and Stormuth will do very well for Englishmen—but they’re not up to date. Mrs. Century’s book is a bit better and even old Dr. Standard’s Compendium of Useful Information includes my own words, “bromide” and “sulphite.” It’s good enough for last year, but “Burgess Unabridged” will give the diction of the year 1915.
For, the fact is, English is a growing language, and we have to let out the tucks so often, that no last season’s model will ever fit it. English isn’t like French, which is corseted and gloved and clad and shod and hatted strictly according to the rules of the Immortals. We have no Academy, thank Heaven, to tell what is real English and what isn’t. Our Grand Jury is that ubiquitous person, Usage, and we keep him pretty busy at his job. He’s a Progressive and what he likes, he’ll have, in spite of lexicographers, college professors and authors of “His Complete Works.” That’s the reason why English has ousted Volapük and Esperanto as a world language. It snuggles right down where you live and makes itself at home.
How does English shape itself so comfortably to the body of our thought? With a new wrinkle here and a little more breadth there, with fancy trimmings, new styles, fresh materials and a genius for adapting itself to all sorts of wear. Everybody is working at it, tailoring it, fitting it, decorating it. There is no person so humble but that he can suggest an improvement that may easily become the reigning mode.
Slang, I once defined as “The illegitimate sister of Poetry”—but slang is sometimes better than that; it often succeeds in marrying the King’s English, and at that ceremony there are dozens of guests. There’s the poker player, who contributes for his wedding present, “The limit” and “Make good” and “Four flush.” Politics hands over “Boodle,” “Mugwump” and “Gerrymander.” The thief presents his “Jimmy,” “Doss,” “Kip,” “Heeler,” “Split,” “Lag,” “Swag” and “Dope.” The horse race gives us “Neck and neck”; baseball, “Putting one over.” Even the baby offers “Goo-goo.” Illustrations, however, are boring.
But slang, strictly, consists in the adaptation of phrases; it does not often—not often enough at any rate—coin new words. Thieves’ patter or jargon or cant provides us almost with a language of itself, and words from the Underworld are continually being added to the language. Like the turkey trot, “We first endure, then pity, then embrace.” So from all sources the language recruits new phrases, new expressions, even new rules of grammar. Horrible as they are to the conservative, common usage accepts them and they become classic. Professor Lounsbury of Yale is kept busy justifying them. He, alone of all grammarians, sees that the split infinitive must come, that verbs must be constructed of nouns. He recognizes the new function of the potential mood, in “I should worry” and “Wouldn’t that jar you?”
Yes, it’s easy enough to coin a phrase, to adapt an old word to a new use, like “Chestnut” and “Lemon” and “Peach.” It’s easy to abbreviate words, like “Gent” and “Pants” and “Exam” and “Phone” and “Stylo.” It’s easier still to fill the new dictionary with new derivatives from Latin or Greek or crowd in French. The scientific word requires a little invention. “Radioactive” and “Aileron” and “Hypofenyl-tribrompropionic” need only a scholastic delving in ancient tongues. But to invent a new word right out of the air or the cigarette smoke is another thing. And that’s what I determined to do.
Yes, I know it has been tried, but it’s never been seriously and deliberately gone about. It has been haphazard work, the result of a mere accident, or vaudeville high spirits. But the way such neologisms have become quickly current shows that here’s a field for high endeavor, and a little success with “Blurb” and “Goop” encourage me to proceed in the good work. We need so many new words, and we need ’em quick. The question is: How to get ’em?