L’OED, il mio dizionario preferito, compie 80 anni. Lo annuncia con rullo di tamburi il blog della OUP (OXford University Press), con una serie di post ricchi di dati lessicografici particolarmente gustosi.
Da parte mia, ripesco un articolo di Virginia Heffernan, giornalista del NY Times, dal titolo Lexicographycal Longing. Un assaggio:
Let’s go back. As lexicography geeks know well, Oxford’s magnum opus appeared in 10 volumes in 1928, after some 70 years of work by generations of editors and about 2,000 volunteers. (The volunteers displayed much the same gratis fanaticism of today’s Wikipedians.) A supplement with new words appeared in 1933, with additional supplements showing up at regular intervals between 1972 and 1986; in 1989 the whole dictionary was published anew in 20 volumes that collated the ’33 edition and its supplements. Since virtually the day that that last biggie was published, Oxford University Press has been overhauling and revising entries in the dictionary and adding many more. (Oh, “mullet,” “carbo-load,” “six-pack,” “hazmat,” “pole dancing,” “doh!” — what would we do without you?)
But these revisions are now suspended in cyberspace. The lexicographers are uploading their work to the O.E.D. online. Their revisions sit cheek-by-jowl with old entries, some of which haven’t been touched in 150 years. A chicken in the online O.E.D. is therefore “the young of the domestic fowl; its flesh,” which seems poetic and factually not bad but also ambiguous and barely idiomatic in the 21st century. (Whose home, for one, is intended by that “domestic”?)
Nella foto qui sopra, James Murray, il primo grande meraviglioso lessicografo e redattore dell’OED. Di pagine dedicate a Murray, ne trovate a bizzeffe su Internet, ma nulla gli fa onore quanto il libro Caught in the Web of Words, scritto dalla nipole, K.M. Elizabeth Murray.
Postato da: IM