I feel good, you know, when the “word of the day” shows up on my Yahoo home page. Those words are always so Easy. Today, for example, the word of the day is “lithe.” Give me a break. I’ve known that word Forever. A real confidence boost, that.
What does not boost my confidence in the “word” category is reading books like the one I’m reading now. The one that was translated into English from the Italian and somehow still uses words I don’t know. Lots of them.
What am I reading? Thank you, O Reader, for asking, for that is precisely what this posting is about: a list of words from Guiseppe di Lampedusa’s The Leopard, all of which I Do Not Know.
I’ve been listing them as I come across them on a blank page at the back of the book with every intention of looking them up in the dictionary. I will do it. Don’t doubt me.
The problem, really, is when. Because I have told you before (do you remember?) that the dictionary is a dangerous thing. It is difficult, for a person like me, upon entering the dictionary, to get out of it again. I find it hard to Extract myself. Because, you see, I like words just a wee bit Too Much. And you know? The dictionary is just Chock Full of Words.
So I am putting off the looking up, and instead am doing the listing and the reading. And although I still have a few pages left to read (in which, I am sure, words unknown to me yet lurk), I will list here, for your reading and– should you already know these words– your gloating pleasure, Words Unknown To Me in G.d.Lampedusa’s The Leopard.
(drumroll, please)
calumniate
adulatory
amphora
gimlet
abstruse (I used to know this one, but I forget it now)
marmoreal
scrutators
hieratic
glaucous
torpid (I actually think I know this one, but I can’t define it, if you know what I mean)
turgid (Thanks to a recent conversation with a friend about the difference between this word and “turbid,” I now know what it means, but it feels like cheating not to list it since originally it was a word I didn’t know)
turbid (see above)
atavistic (I know, I know. Embarrassing. I’m embarrassed.)
perfidious (which I know is related to “perfidy,” but I can’t remember what “perfidy” means)
catafalque
evanescent (the band? No, that’s “evanescence,” and soon I’ll know –maybe– why they called themselves that)
obviate (*sigh*)
caryatid
hegemony (I’ve looked this up a dozen times, but can’t retain a firm grasp to save my life. I need to use it more. I need to use it some.)
coruscate
So that’s the list so far. Maybe I’ll just occasionally post a definition, or use one in a sentence here, or both, from time to time. Because I know, O Reader, that you are Just As Interested as I am in these words, their meaning, and my capacity to assimilate them into my already vast vocabulary.
It kills me, it really does, how many words there are, and how many of those are not at my immediate beck and call.
But I can’t look them up now. I’ve got to go read.
