The Devil's Dictionary

by Ambrose Bierce

pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. The Devil's Dictionary was begun in a weekly paper in 1881, and was continued in a desultory way at long intervals until 1906. In that year a large part of it was published in covers with the title The Cynic's Word Book, a name which the author had not the power to reject or happiness to approve. To quote the publishers of the present work:

Genres: Humor, Nonfiction, Classics, Reference, Satire, Language, Philosophy

239 pages, ebook

First published January 1, 1911

About the author

died perhaps 1914

Caustic wit and a strong sense of horror mark works, including In the Midst of Life (1891-1892) and The Devil's Dictionary (1906), of American writer Ambrose Gwinett Bierce.

People today best know this editorialist, journalist, and fabulist for his short story, An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge and his lexicon.

The informative sardonic view of human nature alongside his vehemence as a critic with his motto, "nothing matters," earned him the nickname "Bitter Bierce."

People knew Bierce despite his reputation as a searing critic, however, to encourage younger poet George Sterling and fiction author W.C. Morrow.

Bierce employed a distinctive style especially in his stories. This style often embraces an abrupt beginning, dark imagery, vague references to time, limited descriptions, the theme of war, and impossible events.

Bierce disappeared in December 1913 at the age of 71 years. People think that he traveled to Mexico to gain a firsthand perspective on ongoing revolution of that country.

Theories abound on a mystery, ultimate fate of Bierce. He in one of his final letters stated: "Good-bye. If you hear of my being stood up against a Mexican stone wall and shot to rags, please know that I think it is a pretty good way to depart this life. It beats old age, disease, or falling down the cellar stairs. To be a Gringo in Mexico--ah, that is euthanasia!"

Reviews

[Manny · Rating 4 out of 5]

goodreads, n. Website designed to prevent people who enjoy books from finding time to read them.

review, v.i. Demonstrate, through a short essay, appreciation for one's own wit.

[Cecily · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ambrose Bierce was an American cynic (A blackguard whose faulty vision sees things as they are, not as they ought to be) and wit (The salt with which the American humorist spoils his intellectual cookery by leaving it out). This, his most famous (Conspicuously miserable) and enduring work, started as a weekly newspaper column in 1881, was initially published in 1906 as “The Cynic's Word Book”, and then in 1911 as “The Devil's Dictionary”. I think the earlier title is more apt, though the final choice was probably more provocative at the time.

Bierce wasn’t a lexicographer (A pestilent fellow who, under the pretense of recording some particular stage in the development of a language, does what he can to arrest its growth, stiffen its flexibility and mechanize its methods), and this isn’t a conventional dictionary (A malevolent literary device for cramping the growth of a language and making it hard and inelastic). Instead, he immodestly (Having a strong sense of one's own merit, coupled with a feeble conception of worth in others) describes it as “a most useful work”.

You will find aphorisms (Predigested wisdom) aplenty, along with poems and quotes from other writers. Many of the entries reflect his views on politics (A strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles. The conduct of public affairs for private advantage), on religion (A daughter of Hope and Fear, explaining to Ignorance the nature of the Unknowable) and lawyers (One skilled in circumvention of the law). The political ones are still remarkably relevant today.

There are also oddly prosaic words like kilt (A costume sometimes worn by Scotchmen in America and Americans in Scotland) and dentist (A prestidigitator who, putting metal into your mouth, pulls coins out of your pocket) and custard (A detestable substance produced by a malevolent conspiracy of the hen, the cow and the cook).

Below, I've listed a few more of my favourite quotations (The act of repeating erroneously the words of another), but not all are quoted in full:

Politics

VOTE, n. The instrument and symbol of a freeman's power to make a fool of himself and a wreck of his country.

ELECTOR, n. One who enjoys the sacred privilege of voting for the man of another man's choice.

CONSERVATIVE, n. A statesman who is enamoured of existing evils, as distinguished from the Liberal, who wishes to replace them with others.

OVERWORK, n. A dangerous disorder affecting high public functionaries who want to go golfing fishing.

DICTATOR, n. The chief of a nation that prefers the pestilence of despotism to the plague of anarchy.

PATRIOTISM, n. In Dr. Johnson's famous dictionary patriotism is defined as the last resort of a scoundrel. With all due respect to an enlightened but inferior lexicographer I beg to submit that it is the first.

INVASION, n. The patriot's most approved method of attesting his love of his country.

Religion

PRAY, v. To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.

CHRISTIAN, n. One who believes that the New Testament is a divinely inspired book admirably suited to the spiritual needs of his neighbor. One who follows the teachings of Christ in so far as they are not inconsistent with a life of sin.

FAITH, n. Belief without evidence in what is told by one who speaks without knowledge, of things without parallel.

The Law

INNOCENCE, n. The state or condition of a criminal whose counsel has fixed the jury.

DICE, n. Small polka-dotted cubes of ivory, constructed like a lawyer to lie on any side, but commonly on the wrong one.

JUDGE, n. A person who is always interfering in disputes in which he has no personal interest. An official whose functions, as a great legal luminary recently informed a body of local law-students, very closely resemble those of God.

Other

KANGAROO, n. An unconventional kind of animal which in shape is farther than any other from being the square of its base. It is assisted in jumping by its tail (which makes very good soup).

EDUCATION, n. That which discloses to the wise and disguises from the foolish their lack of understanding.

EGOTIST, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.

ALONE, adj. In bad company.

CENSOR, n. An officer of certain governments, employed to suppress the works of genius. Among the Romans the censor was an inspector of public morals, but the public morals of modern nations will not bear inspection.

LIBERTINE, n. Literally a freedman; hence, one who is in bondage to his passions.
LIBERTY, n. One of Imagination's most precious possessions.

ACQUAINTANCE, n. A person whom we know well enough to borrow from, but not well enough to lend to.

LOVE, n. A temporary insanity curable by marriage or by removal of the patient from the influences under which he incurred the disorder… It is sometimes fatal, but more frequently to the physician than to the patient.

WHITE, adj. and n. Black.
ELOQUENCE, n. [1.] The art of orally persuading fools that white is the color that it appears to be.
OPTIMIST, n. A proponent of the doctrine that black is white.

OPTIMISM, n. The doctrine, or belief, that everything is beautiful, including what is ugly, everything good, especially the bad, and everything right that is wrong… It is hereditary, but fortunately not contagious.

BIRTH, n. The first and direst of all disasters.

CHILDHOOD, n. The period of human life intermediate between the idiocy of infancy and the folly of youth — two removes from the sin of manhood and three from the remorse of age.


Source and Imitator

You can access the whole thing here: www.thedevilsdictionary.com
It is of its time, so a few of the definitions do not sit comfortably with modern sensibilities.

There is also Rick Bayan's 1994 The Cynic's Dictionary, which I reviewed HERE.

[Michael Perkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hi, my name is Ambrose Bierce. Chances are, you have never heard of me. Or, if so, likely from my Devil’s Dictionary, which I will quote below. I was once an idealistic youth. I even believed in Santa Claus when I was a small child. But when my mother told me the truth, I was very angry with her and am, to some extent, to this day. I don’t like when people lie to me and the world is full of liars. I have spent my career as a journalist exposing liars and giving them the rhetorical whipping they deserve.

I have had an interesting life. I am 71 years old and embarking on a new adventure. I am headed to Mexico to report on the Revolution, now in its third or fourth year, and to join the forces of Pancho Villa. I am in El Paso and will cross the border to Juarez. In a hotel room in Laredo, I left a trunk of books and a manuscript that exposes that scoundrel William Randolph Hearst, for whom I worked for 30 years.

My Civil War stories—you may have heard of or even read “Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge”—were popular in their day. Those stories are based on my harrowing experiences fighting for the Union, with the Indiana Infantry Regimen at Shiloh, Chickamauga and Kennesaw Mountain, where I got wounded in the head. Later, I helped General Hazew map the far west. When my promised promotion did not happen, I settled in San Francisco to pursue a career in journalism. But the only job I could get was as a night watchman at the Treasury Mint Building. I used my spare time to educate myself by methodically and voraciously reading history and classical literature.

And I kept writing and my freelance work was picked up by several San Francisco publications until I got hired by the News-Letter where I published my “Town Crier” column before I moved to London with my wife, Molly, for a three-year stint. When I came back to San Francisco, I started a new column at the Argonaut, titled “The Prattle,” which would later carry over to several publications, including Hearst's San Francisco Examiner. I called out hypocrites of all kinds, especially politicians, but also evangelicals who would throw rocks at the Chinese then go into church to praise Jesus. (“Christian: One who believes that the New Testament is a divinely inspired book admirably suited to the spiritual needs of his neighbor”).

I always defended the Chinese, as well as Jews, and the black man against racism, which brings me to the loathsome Denis Kearney who formed the Workingman’s Party. Though an immigrant himself, Irish, Kearney was hostile to immigrants not like himself, especially the Chinese. They were his favorite scapegoat. The Chinese worked on the most dangerous section of the railroad, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, that allowed the Central Pacific and Union Pacific to link in May 1869 in Utah as the first transcontinental railroad. After this, the Chinese came to San Francisco to look for work. Kearney’s solution to the competition was to run the Chinese out of town. But he went too far when his followers armed themselves to destroy the Chinese and overthrow the city government. I regularly attacked that immortal ass, and though they got the bizarre Isaac Kalloch elected for mayor, their fall was just as swift as their rise.

For 20 years, I went after the Big Four, the Rail Rogues, led by that scoundrel £eland $tanford. Particularly egregious was the Mussel Slough tragedy in the San Joaquin Valley. Even worse was the Funding Bill that came before Congress that would cancel the Western railroads’ indebtedness to the federal government for land grants and loans. Mr. Hearst sent me to Washington, DC, to lead the newspaper attack there. Rail baron Collis Huntington tried to bribe me on the steps of the Nation’s capital. He told me: “Name your price. Every man has his price.” I shot back, in front of many witnesses, “My price is $75 million to be handed to the Treasurer of the United States.” My efforts are credited with getting the bill defeated.

My writing career got started and developed during the period after the Civil War, what my colleague and rival, Mark Twain, called the Gilded Age, a time of rapid industrial and economic growth, but also the consolidation of wealth and power in the hands of a few.

I kept a human skull on my desk as a reminder of my mortality. Some call me a cynic (“a blackguard whose faulty vision sees thing as they are”) and a misanthrope, and therefore abnormal (“In matters of thought and conduct, to be independent is to be abnormal, to be abnormal is to be detested.”) Some call me “Bitter Bierce.” I pack a revolver at all times, ever since Charles de Young, the owner of the San Francisco Chronicle, was shot dead by the mayor’s son after the newspaper published a derogatory piece about the mayor.

But now, I confess I feel like a hack. My journalism and stories will be forgotten in a generation, if that. I have also been a bad family man, mostly absent from my wife Molly, who divorced me and died young, and my three children. (Some think Molly was a saint, but I have my own idea of what a saint is: “a dead sinner, revised and edited”).

Things went bad after we moved to San Rafael, a clime that the doctors thought would be better for my chronic asthma, and my mother-in-law, Mrs. Daly moved in with us. She was a most insufferable woman. No wonder her wealthy husband lived the life of a reclusive in the mining camps. I preferred to stay in the City than going home.

When I did go home, I expected the children to be clean, well-mannered, and studious, but did nothing to help them in that regard. I fear I was a bad example to the children, particularly to my older son, Day.

My most colorful, productive, and sometimes annoying journalism association was with the newspaper publisher, William Randolph Hearst. His father, George, grew up in a log cabin in Missouri. After the death of his father, George headed for the Gold Rush in California, where he and his partners found gold, but also ran a general store, and raised livestock and did farming. It was in 1859 when they heard of the Comstock Silver Lode in Nevada. They took a stake in a silver mine and managed to pull out 38 tons of high-grade ore and transported it to San Francisco to be smelted. Their fortune was made. George continued to expand his mining interests, including the Homestake gold mine in South Dakota, where I tried my luck, staying in the town of Deadwood, but with no success.

Back in Missouri, George met Phoebe (more than 20 years his junior) and they got married and moved to San Francisco where they had their only child, William. George bought a ranch in San Simeon and financed a thoroughbred horse stable. He bought the San Francisco Examiner as payment for a gambling debt. After he died, Phoebe gave to many universities, especially University of California, Berkeley, where she became the first female regent.

George sent his reluctant son, William, to Harvard, where he got himself expelled. When he returned to California, his father gave him the San Francisco Examiner as something to keep him occupied, Little did his father know how seriously his son would take it. Only two weeks after he got the paper in February, 1897, Mr. Hearst sailed across the Bay to seek me out in Oakland. I encountered a tall, slender man with pale eyes and a diffident manner.

“I am from the San Francisco Examiner,” he explained in a voice like the fragrance of violets made audible, and backed a little away. “Oh,” I said, “You come from Mr. Hearst.” Then that unearthly child lifted his blue eyes and cooed: “I am Mr. Hearst.”

Little did I know then that Mr. Hearst would become the P.T. Barnum of publishing, staging current events as much as reporting on them. For example, he had one staff writer get himself committed to an insane asylum by jumping off a steamer in the middle of the San Francisco Bay and rave like a lunatic when the rescuers pulled him out. After a month in the asylum, he emerged perfectly sane to write a harrowing account of his experience there. Another reporter jumped off a ferry boat to test how long it would take to rescue him. If he couldn’t swim, he would have drowned. Winifred Sweet, a redheaded former chorus girl dressed up as a homeless woman, faked a collapse, and was taken to a hospital for the poor where she was successively insulted, pawed, given a hot mustard emetic, and turned back out on to the street. A front page expose in the “Monarch of the Dailies” (as Hearst called the Examiner) led to a staff shakeup at the hospital and a visit to the newsroom by the chief physician, threatening violence. A burly colleague of Miss Sweet knocked him out cold. It was not long before the Examiner circulation reached 300,000.

Hearst wanted me to revive my “Prattle” column to help boost the circulation of the Examiner, which was then at 30,000. I was given complete editorial freedom and did not have to come into the office to write. (This kept me away from bores, “people who talk when I wish them to listen”). When I did drop by from time to time, I always seemed to end up in a pub crawl with some of the other journalists to see who could hold their liquor best. Not since drinking with Jack London did I find such even matches.

Most people know the story of William Randolph Hearst and his publishing empire, but I want to add this note about him personally: He had not a friend in the world. Nor does he merit one. He is inaccessible to the conception of an unselfish attachment or a disinterested motive. Perhaps he was aware that to befriend means to make an ingrate.

Well, I better be off. Mexico is calling. If you hear of my being stood up against a Mexican stone wall and shot to rags please know that I think it’s a pretty good way to depart this life. It beats old age, disease, or falling down the cellar stairs. To be a Gringo in Mexico—ah, that is euthanasia!

[J.G. Keely · Rating 5 out of 5]

There may be none, outside of perhaps Rabelais, who may so decorously handle the refuse of the world. The Devil's Dictionary is a guidebook for the mind of man, and perhaps a certain delicacy becomes necessary when exploring something so rude and unappealing. There is perhaps no greater illustration that the answer of 'why do bad things happen to good people' is: because it is much funnier that way.

[Arthur Graham · Rating 4 out of 5]

For years now, I've kept the following definition tacked to my cubicle wall:

EDITOR, n. A person who combines the judicial functions of Minos, Rhadamanthus and Aeacus, but is placable with an obolus; a severely virtuous censor, but so charitable withal that he tolerates the virtues of others and the vices of himself; who flings about him the splintering lightning and sturdy thunders of admonition till he resembles a bunch of firecrackers petulantly uttering his mind at the tail of a dog; then straightway murmurs a mild, melodious lay, soft as the cooing of a donkey intoning its prayer to the evening star. Master of mysteries and lord of law, high-pinnacled upon the throne of thought, his face suffused with the dim splendors of the Transfiguration, his legs intertwisted and his tongue a-cheek, the editor spills his will along the paper and cuts it off in lengths to suit. And at intervals from behind the veil of the temple is heard the voice of the foreman demanding three inches of wit and six lines of religious meditation, or bidding him turn off the wisdom and whack up some pathos.



No wonder I've still yet to win employee of the year....

The illustrated Steadman edition is probably the only one worth owning in print, but why buy the book when you can look up all your favorite definitions right online?

http://www.alcyone.com/max/lit/devils/

[Lyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

“CYNIC, n. A blackguard whose faulty vision sees things as they are, not as they ought to be. Hence the custom among the Scythians of plucking out a cynic's eyes to improve his vision.”

A hundred years before Twitter and other social media, uber cynic and epic tough old guy Ambrose Bierce found a way to say everything he meant, ugly and in-yer-face prose but in a scholarly and artful way in the Devil’s Dictionary.

“SUCCESS, n. The one unpardonable sin against one's fellows. In literature, and particularly in poetry, the elements of success are exceedingly simple, and are admirably set forth in the following lines by the reverend Father Gassalasca Jape, entitled, for some mysterious reason, "John A. Joyce."
The bard who would prosper must carry a book,
Do his thinking in prose and wear
A crimson cravat, a far-away look
And a head of hexameter hair.
Be thin in your thought and your body'll be fat;
If you wear your hair long you needn't your hat.”

Begun in 1881, published in a weekly newspaper and then collected and published in 1906, Bierce took words and attributed to them a different kind of meaning – one in which his cynicism is paraded out amongst the rest of us and his razor’s edge intelligence is demonstrated in definition after definition.

“LOVE, n. A temporary insanity curable by marriage or by removal of the patient from the influences under which he incurred the disorder. This disease, like caries and many other ailments, is prevalent only among civilized races living under artificial conditions; barbarous nations breathing pure air and eating simple food enjoy immunity from its ravages. It is sometimes fatal, but more frequently to the physician than to the patient.”

Most notable for modern readers is the virtuosity of Bierce’s designs. Today we live in a world of terse headlines and hash tag wit, but it is beneficial to revisit Bierce and see a master of the language display a rapier jocularity.

“SLANG, n. The grunt of the human hog (Pignoramus intolerabilis) with an audible memory. The speech of one who utters with his tongue what he thinks with his ear, and feels the pride of a creator in accomplishing the feat of a parrot. A means (under Providence) of setting up as a wit without a capital of sense.”

[Jokoloyo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know I know this is not a real dictionary, but I read the entries randomly, and sometimes I checked a word if there was an amusing definition when I was skimming reading this book. That's why I put it as reference.

I am tempted to put it on read shelf, but I admit I haven't read all of the definitions.

[Szplug · Rating 4 out of 5]

Absolutely inspired. Bierce's wit is a literary scalpel honed to a fineness that can slice exceptionalism at the molecular level. Of a kind with the mighty Voltaire's Philosophical Dictionary, though featuring fewer multi-paragraph cannonades of cutting, even cruel wit in lieu of more broadly-aimed and concisely-barbed thrusts. Finding myself stuck in a lengthy queue for the cashier when purchasing it (along with a handful of other textual beauties scooped-up second hand), I opened it to A and began reading the entries

Absurdity, n. A statement of belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion.

and damned if I didn't drop my dutifully dour comportment to take on that of an addled adolescent, giggling and snorting and, once or twice, guffawing, causing the other enervated customers idling with their monstrous sprog within the line to eye me askance, trying to decide if I was inebriated, insouciant, or insane. For some reason, the following particularly ignited the mirthful engines within to induce a bout of tittering that proved a struggle to bestill and left a singularly shit-eating grin etched upon my features right up until I managed to make it out the door:

Academe, n. An ancient school where morality and philosophy were taught.

Academy, n. (from academe). A modern school where football is taught.

Now, that dual entry does not represent Bierce at even half-strength, yet it struck me immediately with its succinctly-sprung sardonicism. And The Devil's Dictionary is replete with gem after gem, an abundance of droll cynicism and mordant misanthropy that places mankind and the elaborately draped framework it has assembled for living squarely where the author deemed most appropriate: down in the mud. It's an elegant, piquant, aromatic mire, mind you—but mud it be all the same.

[Rodrigo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Valoración: 6/10
Ha sido una lectura muy curiosa con algunas definiciones muy divertidas.
Ejemplos:
-Amistad: Barco lo bastante grande como para llevar a dos con buen tiempo, pero a uno solo en caso de tormenta.
-Amor: Insania temporaria curable mediante el matrimonio, o alejando ak paciente de las influencias bajo las cuales ha contraído el mal.
-Anécdota: Relato generalmente falso.
-Año: período de trescientos sesenta y cinco desengaños.
-Ardor: cualidad que distingue al amor inexperto.
-Asno: cantante público de buena voz y mal oído.
-Autoestima: evaluación errónea.
-Ayer: infancia de la juventud, juventud de la madurez, el pasado entero de la ancianidad.
-Belladona: En italiano, hermosa mujer; en inglés, veneno mortal. Notable ejemplo de la identidad esencial de ambos idiomas.
-Belleza: Don femenino que seduce a un amante y aterra a un marido.
-Boca: en el hombre, puerta de entrada al alma; en la mujer, vía de salida del corazón.
-Boda: ceremonia por la cual dos personas se proponen convertirse en una, una se propone convertirse en nada, y nada propone volverse soportable.
-Boticario: cómplice del médico, benefactor del sepulturero, proveedor de los gusanos del cementerio.
-Bruja: mujer fea y repulsiva en perversa alianza con el demonio. Muchacha joven y hermosa en perversa alianza con el demonio.
-Caníbal: gastrónomo de la vieja escuela que conserva los gustos simples y la dieta natural de la época pre porcina.
-Celoso: indebidamente preocupado por conservar lo que solo se puede perder cuando no vale la pena conservarlo.
-Cleptómano: ladrón rico
-Cobarde: dícese del que en una emergencia peligrosa piensa con las piernas.
-Conocido: persona a quien conocemos lo bastante para pedirle dinero prestado pero no lo suficiente para prestarle y grado de amistad que llamamos superficial cuando un objeto es pobre y oscuro e íntimo cuando es rico y famoso.
-Convento: lugar de retiro para las mujeres que desean tener tiempo libre para meditar sobre el vicio de la pereza.
-Corsario: político de los mares.
-Dentista: prestidigitador que nos pone una clase de metal en la boca y nos saca otra clase de metal del bolsillo.
-Desposada: mujer que tiene a su espalda una brillante perspectiva de felicidad.
-Destino: justificación del crimen de un tirano o pretexto del fracaso de un imbécil.
-Deuda: ingenioso sustituto de la cadena y el látigo del negrero.
-Diario íntimo: registro cotidiano de aquellos episodios de la vida que uno puede contarse a sí mismos sin sonrojo.
-Digestión: conversión de vituallas en virtudes.
-Diplomacia: arte de mentir en nombre del país.
-Elector: el que goza del Sagrado privilegio de votar por un candidato que eligieron otros.
-Filosofía: camino de muchos ramales que conduce de ninguna parte a la nada.
-Frontera: en geografía política, línea imaginaria entre dos naciones que separa los derechos imaginarios de una de los derechos imaginarios de la otra.
-Futuro: época en que nuestros asuntos prosperan nuestros amigos son leales y nuestra felicidad está asegurada.
-Guillotina: máquina que hace que un francés se encoja de hombros con buen motivo.
-Historia: relato casi siempre falso de hechos casi siempre nimios producidos por gobernantes casi siempre pillos o militares casi siempre necios.
-Homeópata: humorista de la medicina.
-Hospitalidad: virtud que nos induce a alojar y alimentar a personas que no necesitan alojamiento ni alimento.
-Idiota: miembro de una vasta y poderosa tribu cuya influencia en los asuntos humanos ha sido siempre dominante.
Siempre tiene la última palabra su decisión es inapelable y establece las modas de la opinión y el gusto dicta las limitaciones del lenguaje y fija las normas de la conducta.
-Intemperie: lugar donde ningún gobierno ha podido cobrar impuestos.
-Justicia: artículo más o menos adulterado que el Estado vende al ciudadano a cambio de su lealtad sus impuestos y sus servicios personales.
-Macho: miembro del sexo insignificante. El macho de la especie humana es generalmente conocido por la mujer como simple hombre.
-Marido: el que después de cenar debe encargarse de lavar el plato.
-Médico: alguien a quien lanzamos nuestras súplicas cuando estamos enfermos y nuestros perros cuando nos hemos curado.
-Niñez: periodo de la vida humana intermedio entre la idiotez de la primera infancia y la locura de la juventud a dos pasos del pecado de la adultez y a tres del remordimiento de la ancianidad.
-Ociosidad: granja modelo donde el diablo experimenta las semillas de nuevos pecados y promueve el crecimiento de los vicios básicos.
-Pagano: ser descarriado que incurre en la locura de adorar lo que se puede ver y sentir.
-Pasaporte: documento que se inflige traidoramente a un ciudadano que sale de su país denunciándolo como extranjero y exponiéndolo al ultraje y la reprobación.
-Patriota: juguete de políticos e instrumento de conquistadores.
-Política: conflicto e intereses disfrazados de lucha de principios o manejo de los intereses públicos en provecho privado.
-Pólvora: medio que emplea las relaciones civilizadas para arreglar disputas que podrían volverse molestas si no se las resolviera.
-Prevaricador: mentiroso en estado de crisálida
-Sobre: ataúd de un documento, vaina de una factura, cáscara de un giro, camisón de una carta de amor.
Ese humor satírico, muy logrado.
Una lectura diferente, un diccionario diferente.
# 22. El libro más barato de tu estantería. Reto literario lecturas pendientes 2023.

[Paul Secor · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bitter, biting, and on the money.

Other folks have given examples of Bierce's definitions, but I'll add a few more:

Responsibility, n. A detachable burden easily shifted to the shoulders of God, Fate, Fortune, Luck or one's neighbor.

Railroad, n. The chief of many mechanical devices enabling us to get away from where we are to where we are no better off.

Influence, n. In politics, a visionary quo given in exchange for a substantial quid.

Bore, n. A person who talks when you wish him to listen.

Abscond, v.i. To "move in a mysterious way," commonly with the property of another.

Mercy, n. An attribute beloved of detected offenders.

Lexicographer, n. A pestilent fellow who, under the pretense of recording some particular stage in the development of a language, does what he can to arrest its growth, stiffen its flexibility and mechanize its methods.

An addition: I was rereading sections of The Devil's Dictionary the other day and, thinking about our fearless leader (though I try not to), came across Patriotism:

"In Dr. Johnson's famous dictionary patriotism is defined as the last resort of a scoundrel. With all due respect to an enlightened but inferior lexicographer, I beg to submit that it is the first."

[پیمان عَلُو · Rating 2 out of 5]

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‏ اعتراض:
یکی از بی‌شمار روشهایی که ابلهان برای از دست دادن دوستان خود انتخاب می‌کنند.
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‏ افسردگی:
حالتی که بر اثر لطیفه‌های مجلات،مطربهای دوره‌گرد و در اثر موفقیت دیگران به انسان دست می‌دهد.
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‏ بحث:
شیوه‌ای برای پابرجا کردن دیگران در خطا‌هایشان.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ پارتی بازی:
برای خیر و صلاح حزب،به مادربزرگ‌خودمان پست و مقام بخشیدن.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ تلفن:
یکی از اختراعات شیطان که ما را از برخی مزایای دوری از آدمهای عوضی محروم می‌کند.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ خشکه مقدس:
آدم پرهیزکاری که معتقد است باید اجازه داد مردم هرکاری خود او دوست دارد بکنند.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ جاهل:
کسی که از معلومات شما چیزی نمی‌داند و معلومات دیگری دارد شما ندارید.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ خیانت:
پاداش اعتماد.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ رمان:
داستان کوتاه پُر شاخ و برگ.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ عذرخواهی:
زمینه چینی برای خلاف بعدی.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ کافرشدن:
برداشتن گام اول در راه دیندار شدن دوباره
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‏ خوشبختی:
احساسی خوشایند که حاصل فکر کردن به فلاکت دیگران است.

[Nasia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Πολύ απαισιόδοξος για τα γούστα μου, αλλά μερικοί ορισμοί είναι πραγματικά spot-on.

[Jareed · Rating 4 out of 5]

The blurb of my copy sufficiently covers what to expect from this book. Originally entitled The Cynic's Word Book, it is an irreverent word book of cynical and sardonic wit. To provide however a more accurate expectation of the iconoclastic definitions and passages herein contained, here's Bierce's rendition of the Demagogue.

Thou shalt no God but me adore:
'Twere too expensive to have more.

No images nor idols make
For Robert Ingersoll to break.

Take not God's name in vain; select
A time when it will have effect.

Work not on Sabbath days at all,
But go see the teams play ball.

Honour thy parents. That creates
for life insurance lower rates.

Kill not, abet not those who kill;
Thou shall not pay thy butcher's bill.

Kiss not thy neighbor's wife, unless
Thine own thy neighbor doth caress.

Don't steal; thou'lt never thus compete
Successfully in. Cheat.

Bear not false witnes - that is low -
But 'hear 'tis rumoured so and so'.

Covet thou naught that thou hast not.
By hook or crook, or somehow, got.

Bierce was nicknamed 'Bitter Bierce' for his distinctive sardonic view of human life, he was further known for sporting his incomparably fitting motto of "Nothing matters". He disappeared without a trace in 1913 in an attempt to cover the Mexican Revolution. This work of his was originally a newspaper publication, and then was published in book in 1906. This is well written and incomparably so, but I strongly recommend not to read this in one sitting but in a multitude of encounters, picking it up occasionally, letting his wit and humor slowly but intricately lull you away from a consummately unrivaled bad day at the office.

[Anna Avian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Witty and sarcastic definitions that are spot on more often than not.

[Vaishali · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hilarious! A sarcastic compilation of definitions, published in 1906. Warning : if you can't stomach sexist and racist jokes, read gingerly.

LOL moments :
=============

Abominable
adj. The quality of another’s opinions.

Abroad
adj. At war with savages and idiots. To be a Frenchman abroad is to be miserable; to be an American abroad is to make others miserable.

Abuse
n. The goal of debate.

Accuracy
n. A certain uninteresting quality carefully excluded from human statements.

Achievement
n. The death of endeavor and the birth of disgust.

Acquaintance
n. A person whom we know well enough to borrow from, but not well enough to lend to.

Actually
adv. Perhaps ; possibly.

Adam’s Apple
n. A protuberance on the throat of a man, thoughtfully provided by Nature to keep the rope in place.

Admirability
n. My kind of ability, as distinguished from your kind of ability.

Admonition
n. Gentle reproof, as with a meat-axe. Friendly warning.

Apathetic
adj. Six weeks married.

Bald
adj. Destitute of hair from hereditary or accidental causes—never from age.

Betrothed
pp. The condition of a man and woman who, pleasing to one another and objectionable to their friends, are anxious to propitiate society by becoming unendurable to each other.

Bore
n. A person who talks when you wish him to listen.

Boundary
n. In political geography, an imaginary line between two nations, separating the imaginary rights of one from the imaginary rights of the other.

Bride
n. A woman with a fine prospect of happiness behind her.

Brute
n. See Husband.

Calamity
n. A more than commonly plain and unmistakable reminder that the affairs of this life are not of our own ordering. Calamities are of two kinds: misfortune to ourselves, and good fortune to others.

Canonize
v.t. To make a saint out of a dead sinner.

Caterpillar
n. The capitalist of insects before he gets his start in life.

Circumlocution
n. A literary trick whereby the writer who has nothing to say breaks it gently to the reader.

Client
n. A person who has made the customary choice between the two methods of being legally robbed.

Comfort
n. A state of mind produced by contemplation of a neighbor’s uneasiness.

Confession
n. A place where the priest sits to forgive the big sins for the pleasure of hearing about the little ones.

Congratulation
n. The civility of envy.

Consolation
n. The knowledge that a better man is more unfortunate than yourself.

Corporation
n. An ingenious device for obtaining individual profit without individual responsibility.

Day
n. A period of twenty-four hours, mostly misspent.

Delusion
n. The father of a most respectable family, comprising Enthusiasm, Affection, Self-denial, Faith, Hope, Charity and many other goodly sons and daughters.

Deposit
n. A charitable contribution to the support of a bank.

Dice
n. Small polka-dotted cubes of ivory, constructed like a lawyer to lie on any side, but commonly on the wrong one.

Disenchant
v.t. To free the soul from the chains of illusion in order that the lash of truth may draw blood at a greater number of points.

Distance
n. The only thing that the rich are willing from the poor to call theirs, and keep.

Economy
n. Purchasing the barrel of whisky that you do not need for the price of the cow that you cannot afford.

Egotist
n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.

Elope
v.i. To exchange the perils and inconveniences of a fixed residence for the security and comfort of travel.

Equal
adj. As bad as something else.

Expectation
n. The state or condition of mind which in the procession of human emotions is preceded by hope and followed by despair.

Fault
n. One of my offenses, as distinguished from one of yours, the latter being crimes.

Feast
n. A festival. A religious celebration usually signalized by gluttony and drunkenness, frequently in honor of some holy person distinguished for abstemiousness.

Fidelity
n. A virtue peculiar to those who are about to be betrayed.

Fraud
n. The life of commerce, the soul of religion, the bait of courtship and the basis of political power.

Genealogy
n. An account of one’s descent from an ancestor who did not particularly care to trace his own.

Gratitude
n. A sentiment lying midway between a benefit received and a benefit expected.

Habit
n. A shackle for the free.

Heaven
n. A place where the wicked cease from troubling you with talk of their personal affairs, and the good listen with attention while you expound your own.

History
n. An account mostly false, of events mostly unimportant, which are brought about by rulers mostly knaves, and soldiers mostly fools.

Home
n. The place of last resort — open all night.

Homesick
adj. Dead broke abroad.

Houseless
adj. Having paid all taxes on household goods.

Idiot
n. A member of a large and powerful tribe whose influence in human affairs has always been dominant and controlling.

Ignoramus
n. A person unacquainted with certain kinds of knowledge familiar to yourself, and having certain other kinds that you know nothing about.

Immaculate
adj. Not as yet spotted by the police.

Infancy
n. The period of our lives when, according to Wordsworth, ‘‘Heaven lies about us.’’ The world begins lying about us pretty soon afterward.

Leisure
n. Lucid intervals in a disordered life.

Luminary
n. One who throws light upon a subject; as an editor by not writing about it.

Marriage
n. The state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress, and two slaves, making in all, two.

Meekness
n. Uncommon patience in planning a revenge that is worthwhile.

Misfortune
n. The kind of fortune that never misses.

Morning
n. The end of night and dawn of dejection.

Mortality
n. The part of immortality that we know about.

Mosquito
n. The spore of insomnia, as distinguished from Conscience, the bacillus of the same disease.
‘‘I am the master of all things!’’ Man cried.
‘‘Then, pray, what am I?’’ the Mosquito replied.

Optimist
n. A proponent of the doctrine that black is white.

Perdition
n. The loss of one’s soul; also the place in which it can be found.

Pessimism
n. A philosophy forced upon the convictions of the observer by the disheartening prevalence of the optimist with his scarecrow hope and his unsightly smile.

Philosophy
n. A route of many roads leading from nowhere to nothing.

Picture
n. A representation in two dimensions of something wearisome in three.

Pillage
v. To carry on business candidly.

Pray
v. To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.

Prescription
n. A physician’s guess at what will best prolong the situation with least harm to the patient.

Present
n. That part of eternity dividing the domain of disappointment from the realm of hope.

Read
v. To get the sense of something written, if it has any. Commonly, it has not.

Responsibility
n. A detachable burden easily shifted to the shoulders of God, Fate, Fortune, Luck or one’s neighbor.

Riches
n. The savings of many in the hands of one.

Rite
n. A religious or semi-religious ceremony fixed by law, preceptor, and customs with the essential oil of sincerity carefully squeezed out of it.

Twice
adv. Once too often.





.

[ALLEN · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you're a fan of sardonic wit, as I am, you want the biggest possible DEVIL'S DICTIONARY. This one has over 400 pages, as compared to one budget edition with only 144 pages. Wikipedia proclaims Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914) an "American editorialist, journalist, short story writer, fabulist and satirist." It's in the last capacity, as satirist, that Bierce's DEVIL'S DICTIONARY (1911) achieved and maintained its gloriously irritable fame. This book is chock-full of mini-masterpieces of snark, arranged in parody-dictionary format, such as:

Barometer: An ingenious instrument which indicates what kind of weather we are having.

Bore: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.

Painting: The art of protecting flat surfaces from the weather and exposing them to the critic.

-- and my favorite --

Politics: Strife of interests masquerading as a contest of principles.


This book may not be for everybody, but to paraphrase Alice Longworth Roosevelt, if you like this sort of thing, come sit by me! Highly recommended for the arch wit and Americana too.

[Nood-Lesse · Rating 4 out of 5]

- Persona dai gusti volgari, più interessata a se stessa che a me. (11 lettere)

Quanto valevano mille lire negli anni novanta? Abbastanza per potersi aggiudicare le massime di
Francois De La Rochefoucauld
https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/QSwAAO...
Forse sono le mille lire che ho speso meglio in quel decennio. Così quando Guido Almansi nella prefazione ha fatto un parallelo fra quel libro e Il dizionario del diavolo, ho seguito con attenzione la comparazione. Sarebbe interessante se ogni recensore disegnasse lo scheletro dell’essere umano Bierciano che è emerso dalla sua lettura, il mio in dieci definizioni sarebbe questo:

adorare (v. tr.) - Venerare aspettandosi qualcosa in cambio.
aiutare (v. tr.) - Aumentare il numero degli ingrati.
ammirazione (s.f.) - La nostra cortese ammissione che un’altra persona ci somiglia.
amore (s.m.) - Parola inventata dai poeti per far rima con cuore.
avversario (s.m.) - Un mascalzone che si permette di avere le nostre stesse aspirazioni.
carità (s.f.) - Un’amabile disposizione dell’animo che induce a perdonare negli altri i peccati e i vizi cui siamo dediti noi stessi.
congratulazione (s.f.) - La veste elegante dell’invidia.
egoista (s.m.) - Persona priva di considerazione per l’egoismo altrui.
esca (s.f.) - Ciò che rende l’amo più appetibile. Il tipo di esca più efficace è rappresentato dalla bellezza.
surclassare (v. tr.) - Farsi un nemico.

Non ve lo avevo detto? È un vero dizionario, secondo l’autore, l’unico veramente utile. Almansi ha ragione, per quanto vi siano punti di contatto fra Bierce e La Rochefoucault (Non si capisce come la prefazione sia andata in stampa con il refuso ripetuto ogni volta che il principe di Marsillac è stato tirato in ballo) lo stile è diverso. Bierce è Mourignano, polemico, caustico, cinico effettivamente manca dell’aristocrazia di Francois, le sue costruzioni sono più stringate, invocano un sorriso a denti stretti, non tagliano, sbranano. Almansi scrive
Nei suoi momenti migliori, Bierce è un plebeo che è arrivato, miracolosamente, alla concisione stilistica e all’eleganza concettuale di un aristocratico della penna; ma non riesce mai ad assumere questo stato di grazia per più di una voce.
Ambrose Bierce nato nel 1842, iniziò la stesura del suo dizionario nel 1865, vi assicuro che il libro porta gli anni dignitosamente, d’altronde ancora oggi il successo è l’unico peccato davvero imperdonabile commesso a danno dei propri amici, quelli che spesso ripagano la fiducia con il tradimento.

[Lucy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Conservative, n. A statesman who is enamored of existing evils, as distinguished from the Liberal, who wishes to replace them with others.
Impiety, n. Your irreverence toward my deity.
Patriotism, n. Combustible rubbish ready to the torch of any one ambitious to illuminate his name. In Dr. Johnson's famous dictionary patriotism is defined as the last resort of a scoundrel. With all due respect to an enlightened but inferior lexicographer I beg to submit it is the first.
Selfish, adj. Devoid of consideration for the selfishness of others.

[Igor Ljubuncic · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfect. This man is the father of trolling and modern sarcasm.

The Internet you have today, you owe it to him. Yup.
Without Bierce, there'd be no memes.

Or if I may sing (Penny Lane style):

Ambrose Bierce is a man with scant few photographs
Of every word he's had the pleasure to write
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello

On the corner is a married man wearing Crocs
The little children laugh at him behind his back
And the ladies never give him any slack
In the pouring rain, very strange

Ambrose Bierce is in my ears and in my memes
Dictionary work to break your dreams
I read it, meanwhile back

Something like that.

Igor

[Theo Logos · Rating 4 out of 5]

A masterpiece of American satire, The Devil’s Dictionary is a monument to Ambrose Bierce’s cynical wit. Bierce began printing these devastating definitions in his newspaper column in 1867. His satirical dictionary was produced piecemeal in this fashion over the period of three decades, often quoted, imitated, and plagiarized before finally compiled in its complete form in 1911.

The book is more satisfying in its parts than in its whole, as certain definitions are necessarily more powerful than others. As a rule, the pithier definitions are superior to the wordier ones. Bierce spared nothing — neither religion, philosophy, country, family, nor self — all are assaulted by his vivisecting wit.

The edition that I read has a biographical introduction on Bierce the man, written by Angus Calder, which gives some insight into the mind and temperament of the man behind the dictionary. It is also illustrated by Ralph Steadman, famous for his collaborations with Hunter S. Thompson. In theory, the pairing of Bierce caustic wit with Steadman’s fiendishly chaotic illustrations should have been perfectly fitted, but I actually found the illustrations a distraction rather than a complement to the work, and was disappointed.


Aborigines, n. Persons of little worth found cumbering the soil of a newly discovered country. They soon cease to cumber; they fertilize.

Absurdity, n. A statement of belief manifestly inconsistent with one’s own opinion.

Alone, adj. In bad company.

Bore, n. A person who talks when you wish him to listen.

Bride, n. A woman with a fine prospect of happiness behind her.

Childhood, n. The period of human life intermediate between the idiocy of infancy and the folly of youth — two removes from the sin of manhood and three from the remorse of age.

Conservative, n. A statesman who is enamored of existing evils, as distinguished from the Liberal, who wishes to replace them with others.

Egotist, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.

Life, n. A spiritual pickle preserving the body from decay.

Marriage, n. The state or condition of a community consisting of a master, a mistress, and two slaves, making in all, two.

Misfortune, n. The kind of fortune that never misses.

Novel, n. A short story padded.

Philosophy, n. A route of many roads leading from nowhere to nothing.

Pray, v. To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.

Prude, n. A bawd hiding behind the back of her demeanor.

Realism, n. The Art of depicting nature as it is seen by toads.

Religion, n. A daughter of Hope and Fear, explaining to Ignorance the nature of the Unknowable.

Vote, n. The instrument and symbol of a freeman’s power to make a fool of himself and a wreck of his country.

Year, n. A period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments.

[Peter Tillman · Rating 3 out of 5]

"The Devil's Dictionary" was a family favorite when I was growing up. No idea who got my parents' copy after they passed away. It wasn't me!

On the reread list, for sometime....

“Quotation, n: The act of repeating erroneously the words of another.”

“Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.”

“Peace: A period of cheating between two periods of fighting.”

Attempted a reread Dec 2022 - Jan 2023. Didn't click at all this time. Abandoned the reread and returned the library copy. Downchecked my rating accordingly. Too bad.

Long out of copyright, so you can easily find a free copy online, should you want to try it.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bierce was well known for his caustic wit. This book is literally a small dictionary of words, the definitions of which are a biting commentary on human nature. The man was definitely a pessimist in his attitude toward the human race & I wouldn't recommend reading this in a single sitting, it's hard to put down. I like to pick it up occasionally, especially if I'm in a bad mood. If nothing else, it spruces up your insults.

[Mohammad Ali Shamekhi · Rating 3 out of 5]

کتاب جالبیه؛ مدخلایی که آدم ذکاوت و طنزپردازی مؤلف رو تحسین کنه درش کم نیست. البته هم فضای زبانیش و هم فضای فرهنگیش دیگه قدیمی شده؛ ولی کلا این جور کتابی اگه کسی باز می شناسه به منم بگه

ترجمه از حیث کلیت مطابقت قابل قبوله - هر چند در مواردی به نظرم اشتباهه و در مواردی هم به نظرم مشکوکه. اما در مورد برابرگزینیِ مفردات، خوب عمل نکرده، دقت ندارن برابرها؛ همپوشانی هم دارن مثلا دو واژه یه چیز ترجمه شدن. اشکال دیگه اینه که مترجم به ما نمی گه چه تعداد از مدخل ها ترجمه نشدن. سوای این نقائص، در ترجمه یه طنز و شنگولی ای هست و یه ذخیره ی لغاتی که من دوستش دارم - مثلا نگاه کنید به واژه �� مست

[Aggeliki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Το αλφαβητάρι του διαβόλου ή αλλιώς μαζεμένα ευφυολογήματα ενός λαμπερού μυαλού.
Αυτή η συλλογή ερμηνειών καθημερινών λέξεων που ίσως ξεστομίζουμε χωρίς να τις πολυσκεφτούμε, εδώ δίνονται με έναν άλλο τρόπο: καυστικό, κυνικό, οξυδερκή, κόβοντας και ράβοντας το μαύρο χιούμορ του Bierce στα μέτρα της καθεμιάς προδίδοντας την υψηλή του ευφυϊα.
Εν τω μεταξύ, το πιο φοβερό από όλα είναι ότι οι κατά Bierce ορισμοί αυτών των διαφόρων λέξεων, γραμμένες πάνω από 100 χρόνια πριν έχουν την ίδια ή και περισσότερη ισχύ στην εποχή μας.
Gratis η καταπληκτική εικονογράφηση που πραγματικά λάτρεψα.

[Jeanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Language should be played with. Scrabble, crossword puzzles, and The Devil's Dictionary.

I'm sure you really need to know that absurdity could be defined as A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion (p. 5). Or bigot as One who is obstinately and zealously attached to an opinion that you do not entertain (p. 14).

You need to know that I is the first letter of the alphabet, the first word of the language, the first thought of the mind, the first object of affection (p. 57).

Ambrose Bierce's definitions are accurate, cynical, and tongue in cheek. You would have wanted to invite him to your next party. Who else would recognize that loquacity is A disorder which renders the sufferer unable to curb his tongue when you wish to talk (p. 78)? Maybe he could keep the other guests under control?

Bierce includes a fair amount of prose and poetry to further elucidate his vocabulary. I skipped most of these, as I don't like a lot of poetry, especially his choice in poetry. But his definitions, oh his definitions!

In this age of tariffs, his definition of tariff seems apropos as a place to end: A scale of taxes on imports, designed to protect the domestic producer against the greed of his consumer (p. 131).

Enjoy!

[P.E. · Rating 5 out of 5]

A collection of witty, mischievous and biting criticisms aimed at a liberal number of topics and people. Spicy.

Mimic : Le dictionnaire des idées reçues - Gustave Flaubert

[B. P. Rinehart · Rating 4 out of 5]

READING, n. The general body of what one reads. In our country it consists, as a rule, of Indiana novels, short stories in "dialect" and humor in slang.

REVIEW, v.t. To set your wisdom (holding not a doubt of it,
Although in truth there's neither bone nor skin to it)
At work upon a book, and so read out of it
The qualities that you have first read into it.



I have been procrastinating reviewing this book out of laziness(n. Unwarranted repose of manner in a person of low degree.) and the fact that there are other things I wanted to read but I have always came back to this book.

This book is simply a satirical-cynical parody of your standard dictionary(n. A malevolent literary device for cramping the growth of a language and making it hard and inelastic. This dictionary, however, is a most useful work.)

It is a fun read to just look-up common words and see what Bierce's smart-ass definition of it is. For instance since this site deals with books let's see another reading definition:

NOVEL, n. A short story padded. A species of composition bearing the same relation to literature that the panorama bears to art. As it is too long to be read at a sitting the impressions made by its successive parts are successively effaced, as in the panorama. Unity, totality of effect, is impossible; for besides the few pages last read all that is carried in mind is the mere plot of what has gone before. To the romance the novel is what photography is to painting. Its distinguishing principle, probability, corresponds to the literal actuality of the photograph and puts it distinctly into the category of reporting; whereas the free wing of the romancer enables him to mount to such altitudes of imagination as he may be fitted to attain; and the first three essentials of the literary art are imagination, imagination and imagination. The art of writing novels, such as it was, is long dead everywhere except in Russia, where it is new. Peace to its ashes -- some of which have a large sale. This was written in 1906 to understand the context.

How about some definitions from the W's:

WALL STREET, n. A symbol for sin for every devil to rebuke. That Wall Street is a den of thieves is a belief that serves every unsuccessful thief in place of a hope in Heaven.

WAR, n. A by-product of the arts of peace.

WASHINGTONIAN, n. A Potomac tribesman who exchanged the privilege of governing himself for the advantage of good government. In justice to him it should be said that he did not want to. (This man was an oracle).

WEATHER, n. The climate of the hour. A permanent topic of conversation among persons whom it does not interest, but who have inherited the tendency to chatter about it from naked arboreal ancestors whom it keenly concerned

WITCH, n. (1) Any ugly and repulsive old woman, in a wicked league with the devil. (2) A beautiful and attractive young woman, in wickedness a league beyond the devil.

Most of the book is like that; it doesn't take itself seriously and it dares you to take it seriously. All it serves is to make you laugh or smirk at a particular definition. I'm surprised this whole book isn't entered into the Goodreads quote section.

[Alialiarya · Rating 4 out of 5]

جانور: رجوع شود به شوهر

[Traveller · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although the book is great fun, perhaps not so much to a jaded 21st century mind as it must have been when the book was first published.
Sorry if I sound a bit crabby compared to the glowing 5-star reviews before this one, but although witty, I just don't find this the wittiest ever, which would have made it thus worthy of 5 stars.

[Rose Rosetree · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although I did not finish this sardonic tome, I relished the wit and sarcasm.

Ambrose Bierce was an original.