Alphabet Juice: The Energies, Gists, and Spirits of Letters, Words, and Combinations Thereof; Their Roots, Bones, Innards, Piths, Pips, and Secret Parts, Tinctures, Tonics, and Essences; With Examples of Their Usage Foul and Savory
Noam Chomsky: Normally, humans, by maturity, have tens of thousands of them.
Ali G: What is some of 'em?
-Da Ali G Show
Did you know that both mammal and matter derive from baby talk? Have you noticed how wince makes you wince? Ever wonder why so many h-words have to do with breath?
Roy Blount Jr. certainly has, and after forty years of making a living using words in every medium, print or electronic, except greeting cards, he still can't get over his ABCs. In Alphabet Juice, he celebrates the electricity, the juju, the sonic and kinetic energies, of letters and their combinations. Blount does not prescribe proper English. The franchise he claims is "over the counter."
Three and a half centuries ago, Thomas Blount produced Blount's Glossographia, the first dictionary to explore derivations of English words. This Blount's Glossographia takes that pursuit to other levels, from Proto-Indo-European roots to your epiglottis. It rejects the standard linguistic notion that the connection between words and their meanings is "arbitrary." Even the word arbitrary is shown to be no more arbitrary, at its root, than go-to guy or crackerjack. From sources as venerable as the OED (in which Blount finds an inconsistency, at whisk) and as fresh as Urbandictionary.com (to which Blount has contributed the number-one definition of alligator arm), and especially from the author's own wide-ranging experience, Alphabet Juice derives an organic take on language that is unlike, and more fun than, any other.
Roy Blount Jr. is the author of twenty-three books. The first, About Three Bricks Shy of a Load, was expanded into About Three Bricks Shy . . . and the Load Filled Up. It is often called one of the best sports books of all time. His subsequent works have taken on a range of subjects, from Duck Soup, to Robert E. Lee, to what cats are thinking, to how to savor New Orleans, to what it’s like being married to the first woman president of the United States.
Blount is a panelist on NPR’s Wait Wait . . . Don’t Tell Me!, an ex-president of the Authors Guild, a usage consultant for the American Heritage Dictionary, a New York Public Library Literary Lion, and a member of both the Fellowship of Southern Writers and the band the Rock Bottom Remainders.
In 2009, Blount received the University of North Carolina’s Thomas Wolfe Prize. The university cited “his voracious appetite for the way words sound and for what they really mean.” Time places Blount “in the tradition of the great curmudgeons like H. L. Mencken and W. C. Fields.” Norman Mailer has said, “Page for page, Roy Blount is as funny as anyone I’ve read in a long time.” Garrison Keillor told the Paris Review, “Blount is the best. He can be literate, uncouth, and soulful all in one sentence.”
Blount’s essays, articles, stories, and verses have appeared in over one hundred and fifty publications, including the New Yorker, the New York Times, Esquire, the Atlantic, Sports Illustrated, the Oxford American, and Garden & Gun. He comes from Decatur, Georgia, and lives in western Massachusetts.
I stand firm in the belief that the most obnoxious party conversation of all is the origins of words. There is never a good reason to bust out the Old French "cover fire" roots of "curfew." A close second is the proper use of words and expressions. For the ultimate horror, a combination: a statement on the proper use of an expression, followed by the origin of that expression or the words therein. I, like many people, have been guilty of all these pretensions in the past, but in the last few years, as part of an effort to talk less altogether, I have avoided armchair etymology.
Roy Blount, Jr.'s Alphabet Juice ("juice" as in "juju", he clarifies) is a delicious, extended meditation on these issues. Read it, love it, but do not repeat its lessons in a social setting. Not to friends because they will tire of your company and "unfriend" you, or to children either because they will repeat you and pollute the world with precociousness. A dad might tolerate hearing you recite how "gourmet" evolved from a word meaning "servant," but he's the only one.
Letter by letter Blount moves through Roman alphabet, reviewing whatever strikes him as interesting or infuriating. In the introduction Blount prescribes Alphabet Juice as a guide for good writing, and for the preservation of the proper uses of our beloved English language. He goes after such annoyances as "literally" and "bit much", and plumbs the etymology of "lava." The tone is, well, that of a veteran word nerd and renowned author attempting to define and defend English. "Listen up folks" and "Like most overused intensifiers" kick off biting entries. Tough to get through in one shot, give Alphabet Juice a hearty once-over, and return often to random sections when you need a word nerd fix.
This wasn't quite as brilliant as the first chapter, included as teaser in the New Work Times book review a few weeks ago, led me to expect. But there is plenty of good stuff to cheer and amuse the reader.
The book is formatted like a dictionary, in which each entry is an idiosyncratic riff by Blount on some aspect of the alphabet, words, the English language, language generally, or English usage. (Blount is a member of the American Heritage Dictionary usage panel.)
What do I mean by 'idiosyncratic riff'? Here is a representative sample:
Why do so many reduplicative expressions (e.g. heebie-jeebies) in English begin with 'h' than with any other letter? (with an impressive list of 54 examples) Origins of the word 'mansuetude'. Menu-ese: language atrocities culled from menus. Goldwynisms; The (non)-admissibility of 'hopefully': Blount comes down squarely against it. (A position I disagree with - it seems to me to fill the same need as its German equivalent - "hoffentlich" - and Blount's charges of ambiguity seem unconvincing to me). Synesthesia. Great one-word, two-word, and three-word sentences; e.g. 'Fuhgeddaboudit', 'Nooses give', 'Omit needless words'. Ruminations on each of the individual letters of the alphabet.
To me, Blount's thoughts about the individual letters of the alphabet were hit-or-miss, with more misses than hits. Another recurring theme of his which was reasonably amusing the first couple of times he brought it up, much less so the fifteenth, was the property he refers to by the cutesy-irritating coinage 'sonicky'. Blount uses it to mean a broader kind of onomatopoeia - a 'sonicky' word is one which is acoustically appropriate to its meaning. As examples he cites 'chunky', 'squeeze', 'foist'. The concept didn't bother me particularly, but Blount's obsessive returning to it every few pages got old really fast, and the term 'sonicky' should have been put down at birth. My final complaint about "Alphabet Juice" is the unforgivable lack of an index - a lazy, annoying omission.
But this is mere caviling. These are minor flaws in a book which has more than its share of highly amusing entries. Blount's enthusiasm for language, and his appreciation for its oddities, are infectious.
This would make a good gift for any language-lover on your Christmas list. That is, assuming he or she already owns the five-star "Limits of Language" by Mikael Parkvall:
This book is awful. If I wanted some bastard's pompous opinion and whiny complaints about how the English language should work the way he wants it to, Id hang out outside the Starbuck's begging for it. I checked this out expecting humourous etymologies, but instead I got 3% etymologies, and 97% random whiny blurbs of awfulness
I don't know who Roy Blount Jr. is, but he obviously thinks a lot of himself. Apparently his publisher does too, considering the incredible leeway he was given over the content in this book. He rants on politics, he covers language usage and vocal anatomy, there were arcane sports references and random poetry. Altogether, this book left me with a headache, which is saying something for an avowed lexophile. In fact, I would never have kept reading it if not for the truly interesting etymological tidbits, hidden like gold nuggets among the silt that made up the majority of this book. I realize I'm being harsh to poor Roy, but lest you think I'm exaggerating, I will list my specific complaints along with examples. 1. The language. At first blush, I found the title of this book charming and intriguing. Until I started in and realized the whole book reads that way. An example from the introduction: "I have written some of the clumsiest, most clogged-yet-vagrant, hobbledehoyish, hitch-slipping sentences ever conceived by the human mind." Well, at least he's honest about it. I had to go back so many times and re-read a paragraph to see if there was some sense I had missed that I think I actually read this book twice. 2. To be more specific, this book is the perfect example of recursion, a word Blount elaborates on in his book. It is the act of putting a parenthetical phrase inside a paranthetical phrase inside a parenthetical phrase for paragraphs on end until you have no idea where you started. Blount delights in this writing style, which is just abusive to his readers. 3. Sometimes I seriously had no idea what he was talking about. An example (if you can decipher this, you're a better reader than I): "Theme. 'This pudding has no theme,' Winston Churchill is said to have said about an over-elaborate dessert. Noted. But even worse is a theme with no pudding. Or a theme giving rise to or imposed upon a pudding that doesn't fit. For instance an 'Operation Shock and Awe' that provokes prolonged defiance." And if you think I'm leaving out context that would aid in understanding, you're wrong. That's the whole entry. 4. This book was such an exercise in vanity. Blount is forever quoting himself from other sources, and name-dropping authors he's freinds with, and talking about his tv appearances and radio interviews and blah, blah, blah. Which might be interesting if he were an honest-to-goodness celebrity, but...from what I can tell, he's just an old guy who wrote some books. 5. If you follow professional sports, especially players from the 60s to the 90s, this book might hold some appeal for you. If not, you will be wading through a lot of useless sports references and jargon. 6. All good writers keep a notebook or file with their ideas, phrases, and starts which might find a place somewhere, or spark a more useful idea later on. No good writer throws all of these bits, in their incomplete form, into a book like this one just to see them in print. 7. One quote from this book sums up this bullet point: "I found this on the Internet." It was like Blount just recently discovered Google, and couldn't wait to share his random search results with the world. The contributors to urbandictionary.com deserve some serious royalties, considering the site was quoted about every other page.
Please forgive my lambasting, but I have no one else to complain to about all the annoying habits of this author. I know, I know, I should have just stopped reading if it was bugging me so badly, but like I said, there were a few aspects of the book that, if not entirely redeeming, at least made the rest more forgivable. So, in the interest of fairness, here are some of the good points: 1. As the title promises, the "secret parts" of words were revealed. I loved this quote about etymology: "From the Greek for 'the true sense of a word.' That goes back to when roots showed through a lot more than they do today. But just as you appreciate a vegetable more if you know how it grows, you have a better hold on a word if you use it in acknowledgment of its roots, its background, some of the soil still attached." 2. Ironically, Blount provided some good advice for writers. 3. He sets at right some of his pet peeves regarding misuse of language. These notes were a good refresher course for me. 4. Blount is a big proponent of not diluting words like "awesome" and "incredible" (yes, I used it that way at the beggining to spite him.) In general, I agree with this. I prefer to use words, especially adjectives, with their fully intended force, and it's frustrating when your readers don't take them that way because they've become too common.
So there you go, a review that if not balanced was at least cathartic. Thanks for indulging me...and don't read this book.
For anyone who seriously enjoys using words, this is a marvelous book. A collection of mini-essays about words and phrases that have struck Blount's fancy. If there's a serious point to the book, it's one that I'm whole-heartedly in favor of: A language loses "something" when its speakers cease to care about what they write and say. We should encourage and celebrate sprachgefuhl (imagine an umlaut above the "u"), a feeling for language, the mot juste, an ear for idiom.
Some representative examples pulled, mostly at random, from the text:
In the entry for "giblet": "The main thing I want to contribute with regard to giblets is a personal example of what is known as 'back-formation.' My mother, who fried chicken giblets whole but cut turkey giblets up to make giblet gravy, used the verb 'to gibble,' always with 'up,' as in 'Our best snack when I was a girl was to gibble up some cornbread in a glass of cold buttermilk,' or 'Now just look: you've gibbled up that Styrofoam all over the floor.'" (p. 113)
Or the entry for "portmanteau" (again harking back to his mother): "My mother used a vivid one: squirmle, combination of squirm and wiggle, I assume. She would say to a small child she was trying to wash the ears of, 'Don't squirmle so much.'" (p. 235)
"Surrealism" is easy, comedy's Herb. (p. 285)
"Piss": "...And then it occurs to me that a bladder being voided doesn't make a sound like piss, unless it's onto a hot rock.... Still, Hendrickson is right: piss, unlike the abstract urinate, does somehow evoke pissing." (p. 231)
"Seethe": "From the Old English seothan.... The seething point of the boiling of water...is just before the bubbles start to form. Listen: note quite audible, maybe, but if you could combine into one sound the sounds s, ee, and the, isn't that what just-about-to-boil water would at least subliminally sound like?" (p. 264)
On occasion Blount can be a curmudgeon: He doesn't like the use of "reference" as a verb, though verbalizing nouns enjoys a long history in English and I think this one "works." I'll admit his counter-examples are appropriately hideous: "I beg to difference you," among others. I also couldn't agree that using the third-person, plural pronoun when referring to mixed-gender or singular subjects is wrong.
Aside from that, lovers of language (linguiphiles? linquivores? - I like the latter: "devourers of language") should enjoy the book.
1. "(Did you know that Hells Angels refer to themselves as 'AJ' because it sounds so much like 'HA'?)" [9:] 2. "I thought I had found a flaw in AHD, where it says 'abracadabra' originally 'was a magic word, the letters of which were arranged in an inverted pyramid'.... [visual representation of how this works:]... Am I relieved that this book didn't turn, just now, into a flock of pigeons." [13-14:] 3. "We got where we were supposed to. He was good at what he did. But I hadn't realized that anybody's dyslexia extended as far as pie." [138:] 4. "Aristotle maintained that a falling body accelerated because it became more jubilant as it found itself nearer home." [227:] 5. "Many a poet these days will call 'pucker' and 'pocket' a rhyme. Will in fact prefer that kind of rhyme to 'skillet' and 'chill it'. Me, I'm just a versifier, but 'pucker' and 'pocket' put me off. 'Skillet' and 'chill it' get me to thinking. I bring them together just because of the sound, but then it hits me that they both relate to heat: If you're going to tell me to 'Chill,' it Would help if you'd put down that skillet." [255:]
This is a book about words; the subtitle sums it up very nicely. Roy Blount Jr. is one of my favorite panelists on Wait Wait, Don't Tell Me, so I thought I'd try out one of his books. I liked this book because I really like words. Not just reading them, but saying them and learning about them. If you are not interested in reading this book, I offer three highlights:
tmesis- inserting a word into another word for an intensifying effect. Example from my life: Tyler was trying to come up with a mnemonic (which word is also treated by RBJ) for the first three letters of our new license plate, AFZ. What he came up with - Ari-frickin-zona. RBJ points out that, ironically enough, the word tmesis looks like it should have something stuck in the middle of it, an apostrophe (t'mesis) or some vowels (tamesis).
level- the most even word in the English language. Just look at it.
portmanteau- "a British term for a suitcase that opens out into two halves. Portmanteau words are inspired combinations such as guestimate from guess and estimate." Personally I find this delicious and I can see in my minds eye guess and estimate as the two sides of a suitcase getting closed up into guestimate.
The cons of this book are as follows. 1. It was kind of long for what it was, 364 pages about words. 2. RBJ is sort of rambly and I often found it hard to follow where he was going. 3. There are all sorts of references to movies that were made 50 years before I was born and actresses and other famous people that I've never heard of, so I didn't get a lot of the jokes, I guess you could call them... puns, humor?
This review refers to the Audiobook version of Alphabet Juice. If you have the opportunity I highly suggest giving the audio-book version a listen. I was a little dubious at first, books about language don't necessarily do very well in audio format, but I'm SO glad I gave it a try. Mr. Blount's joy and zest for language really comes alive as he reads his book. It's a sheer delight to listen to. Alphabet Juice is a superbly apt name for this book; it's not often that you find something that delights in the taste of words the way this does, the way they feel in your mouth, the way they roll off the tongue.
...Of course now I want to buy a hardcopy too, just so I can go back and find some of the really delicious turns of phrase he uses and savor them again.
Word lovers unite! (Bad spellers untie!) Never has the exploration of the alphabet and its combinations been so much fun. Blount Jr. (the missing comma before Jr., he explains herein, is intentional) talks about words that look and sound exactly the way they should (without the G, "phlegm" just wouldn't be the same), stopping along the way to tell some barely relevant stories that are, like the book subtitle says, foul and savory. My faves involve Wilt Chamberlain, Leonard Bernstein, and Harry Truman.
When David Sedaris is in France, Roy Blount Jr. is America's greatest essayist. When Sedaris comes to America... I would still give Blount the crown. That's how good he is.
This is a great book. So endlessly fascinating and so full of facts and thoughts and quips that I have to keep going back and re-reading parts of it even before I get to the end. Highly recommended for anyone who is interested in the English language. It's quite unlike any other book about words.
This book gets 5 stars because not only will I read it again, but I will keep reading it and reading it. I manage to forget much of what I read, so I'm happy to keep rereading. It's my bathroom book.
Or it used to be my bathroom book. I lent it to somebody and never saw it again.
This is a book for people who love words. When I first began to read this book, I did it in the way the author suggested: I dipped in for a word and allowed the various parts of the prose associated with it to lead me to other entries. It is the perfect way to enjoy this book. However, when I added it to my currently reading list on Goodreads, I changed to reading it straight through from the first entry to the last one and while I did continue to learn new information, it wasn't as enjoyable a experience. This caused me to put the book aside for months and sometimes years at a time. Tonight, I finally completed reading the entire thing. If you love words and like to dabble your way through the dictionary, this is a fun and interesting book. I do not suggest reading it any other way.
This book most likely isn't for everyone, in particular those who are already snoring at the mention of a book about the origins, moods, and usage of words. But, for those who fret over getting the most out of language, written and spoken, when they use it, and who see it as a tool and a thing of beauty, this is a great find.
Blount's book is written in entry form, with a section devoted to each letter of the English alphabet, complete with an introductory entry for each letter. This keeps the book from dragging, and allows the author to meander just a little while still operating within the boundaries of certain themes.
Also, Blount is very, very funny.
My only real complaint to register is with his "f-word" entry, in which he claims that use of the word in office environments has come to be viewed as inappropriate because of the complaining of feminists. The same feminists, says Blount, that disparage the use of the phrase "pussy-whipped." Woah there, Roy. The phrase "pussy-whipped" is loaded with misogyny, while "the f-word" is not. I seriously doubt that some feminist front ganged up on that particular obscenity and ruined it for everyone. I have been accused and guilty of being "an uptight feminist," but that word doesn't contain any sort of inherent offense for me. Maybe Blount was trying to be ironic, but it just didn't feel that way.
What a great book. It is like stepping inside Roy Blount Jr.’s head and watching his brain work. The man has an amazing respect for words and the English language. Words have meaning and need to be used properly if they are to convey communication. Roy certainly discusses the meaning and proper use of words and phrases, but more enjoyably he discusses the sonic essence of words and letters and phrases.
He talks of pips and pops and fits and stops. The slither and hiss of an s. How stuff is just fun to say, and how the x helps give fix its meaning. Any word could have been arbitrarily used to mean “place securely; make firm”. We could say whimsical, or flabajabba, but we don’t. We say fix, because it just sounds right. Sure, there is an etymological heritage to fix getting its current meaning, but when it comes down to it, fix just sounds good. Fix is, as he puts it, “sonicky”, and that is what the book is about. Not so much how to use words, but reminding us to recognize how words should be used and to enjoy them. There is ‘juice’ in the alphabet.
The book is really great fun to read, if you enjoy words. It has also made me self-conscious of how I misuse words and have mediocre writing skills. I have gained a greater appreciation for those that can write well.
When looking up a word in a dictionary, I always wander off path like Red Riding Hood going after just one more wildflower, then another, and another. Roy Blount Jr.'s unique glossographia is full of the most delightful flowers! I set out to read the pages in numerical order, but before I was finished with the A's (Mr. Blount would approve of this use of the apostrophe) I was enticed into the woods by a splendid "see" reference. Then another. And another.
Here's a bit from page 8 to entice other lovers of words into romping through the woods:
"I hope this book will be useful to anyone who wants to write better, including me. I have written some of the clumsiest, most clogged-yet-vagrant, hobbledehoyish, hitch-slipping sentences ever conceived by the human mind. ... Fortunately, I enjoy fooling with letters, moving them around, going back over them, over and over, screaming . . . The terrible thing about writing is also the great thing about it: you can keep on changing it."
What a bloated, vanity project! The book has 5 stars moments but they are rare. He keeps talking about himself and quoting himself. (See tump). Enough!!
I was shaking my head and saying "Amen!" to another reviewer's comments. 1) It seems as if he just learned how to use the internet and wants to bore us with his search results 2) He must have discovered an old notebook with all his ramblings and old ideas and decided to add them to the book. 3) There are times when I have no idea what he's talking about. At first I would reread and then I just decided he's navel gazing!
I nearly threw the book across the room when I read the truthiness paragraph. As a lover of Curb Your Enthusiasm, I find it infuriating that the author couldn't get Richard Lewis' quote right.
It's "the _____ from hell," not "the mother of all...." The episode is even called "The Nanny from Hell"!!! How hard would it have been to get that right? Good riddance!
Fun book. It's not necessarily a book you just sit down and read cover to cover since it's organized like a dictionary and contains entries with cross references. It's certainly no dry dictionary (though I hasten to add I was a nerdy kid who read the dictionary for fun). Blount comes from the perspective that words are not arbitrary strings of sound representing abstractions. His argument, presented delightfully, is that words have a "sonicky" quality (see the book for a definition of his coinage) which relates to whatever they denote. Words are inherently connotative in their sounds according to the author. The evidence he offers, both in the introduction to each letter and in the individual entries is given with good humor, charm, and a certain amount of gentle snark directed at the folks who argue for arbitrary relationships between words and things.
This is a love letter to words from a man who has clearly spent his life loving the way they work, where they come from, and what they sound like. Structured like a reference book, Alphabet Juice can be read front to back or skipping around. The latter approach, while it may reveal some of the fun connections between words (as Blount sees them), carries the risk of missing some of his more fun entries. While Blount intends to teach in some entries, giving origins and relationships, his main goal seems to be to inspire us with the fun and music of language. Some of his more rambling, bizarre entries are the most fun, but readers are advised that they should expect Blount to detour frequently from a single lane of thought. In all, the final effect is wonderful.
First of all, who could resist that title? Secondly, Alphabet Juice has the best of both worlds -- not only is it highly entertaining, but you just might learn something through all that laughter. I found it nearly impossible to read the book straight through, because of the constant cross-referencing -- I had to use two bookmarks to keep track of my place. As Blount himself says in the introduction, "If you read this book the way I would read it and the way I've written it, you will wear it out, thumbing back and forth, without ever being sure you've read it all." Blount obviously has an unquenchable passion for his native language, and some of his enthusiasm just might rub off on you.
Strangely, I couldn't get into this. I like Roy Blount's humorous essays and I like thinking about the English language but I found the format irksome. I've been noticing of late how much I like a plot, a longer narrative. This book is written as a dictionary of sorts with referrals to other entries peppering the text. You are supposed to read it by hopping all over the place, says so in the introduction. Well, I just don't feel like hopping. I think, in fact, that one of the reasons I read is to settle down, to be more still and orderly in my brain. It would be a great bathroom book for those who like to read in the bathroom.
Does it count if you're listening to the audiobook? I've always liked Blount's humor when I've heard him on NPS shows, so it seemed natural to buy the audiobook. Unfortunately, listening to people read often puts me to sleep. Doesn't reflect on the quality of the book. I'm just saying. I loved the arrangement and the random quality of the analysis of our alphabet and the words that it makes. Plus, the randomness makes it easy to pick up and put down at will (or if asleep) and find something wonderful, no matter what "page" you're on.
I frequently had to restrain myself from reading bits of this book out loud to whomever else was in the room. Arranged as in a dictionary, each "entry" was actually a witty miniature essay expounding on some quirk, discussing the etymology, or reveling in the satisfying mouth-sound of the word or phrase in question.
I would've preferred to have more of the book delivered in the style of the first chapter (a bubbling, babbling essay on the sheer joys of wordcraft) at the expense of the dictionary format, if only because the lack of flow that made this a slower read than I expected.
I'm a long time admirer of Mr. Blount's gift with words and phrases and it's with an eye toward this that I give it four stars. As a fan of "Wait, Wait...", I'm not unfamiliar with his political left leaning, so his taking shots at right-wing and conservative types didn't some as a surprise, but some of them were petty (and far too easy) and diminished the overall enjoyment. Still... I probably shared more excerpts from this book on social media than any other I can remember, so I can't end on anything that suggests it was distasteful. Read it, enjoy it.
While I really enjoy Roy Blount, jr.'s style and language, no matter what his topic, this book has its peaks and valleys. The most humourous bits are really great, but the dry spots warrant a quick skim. Overall, it's worth a read if you find yourself fascinated and delighted by the intricacies of language well highlighted by Blount throughout his career. I'd give it 3.5 stars if I could, but this ain't Star Search.
A delightful book filled with wit, charm and information. I read it on kindle and I should have read it in hard cover, which would have made following the cross-references easier and given full expression to the rambling tone of the book.
I'm going to read all his books. Even better, I'll get them in audio and have him read them to me (he's got a great voice--check out "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" on NPR).
Warning: this is for word nerds only. A reference book of sorts, it defines words and terms of Blount's choosing, but also gives word origins and examples of changes in meaning. Under "cheese" he lists the words said in various languages when having one's photo taken. The "muscle/mussel" entry tells us both words were the same in ancient Rome. Under "Wyoming" he suggests that we start using it as a verb, since it looks like one. Learning made fun.
This book is astounding. I don't think I'll ever finish this book cover-to-cover: One section takes you to another entry, then to another, then back to the beginning. Reading Alphabet Juice is like driving the length of Route 66 and stopping to take in all the roadside attractions and blue-plate diners.
Blount is a master. I'd only heard him on "Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me!", the NPR news quiz, and had no idea he was such a lexicographical nut. His observations on words go from witty to profane, with an occasional Southern tinge that fits just right. This is a book where you dive in at the middle and happily stumble along from there.
Finally, someone else who cares as much as I do about words and their use. I am so sick of people using exhaustive when they mean exhausting and disinterested when they mean uninterested. It's good to know there's someone else out there raging against the Newspeak-ification of our language. Double plus good.
This was a serendipitous find at the library. Soemthing of a cross between Strunk and White and a work on word history, this is a most entertaining jaunt. Many jokes illustrate the finer points of instruction and lots of oddball trivia will attract word buffs. Recommended for anyone interested in the English language.
Books on language, especially on English, have always had quite a draw for me. I own a number of them and pull one off the shelves when I want a pick-me-up. This one is going on that shelf as soon as I can manage, since it's truly one of the juiciest on the subject. I enjoyed it so much that when I was halfway through reading it, I found myself looking forward to reading it again.