At Present, He’d Like to Present Some Heteronyms

I have discussed the homonym, homophone and homograph, but Milt Klein of Skylight Productions notes that I have overlooked the equally provocative heteronym--a word that has the same spelling as another but a different meaning and a different pronunciation.

For example, bass --a fish, and bass --a low voice.

Klein encloses a list of 50 heteronyms compiled by what he calls “a group of us in the Hollywood community.”

It’s an amazing list. Try to think of a few heteronyms yourself. It isn’t easy. Their list begins with address, august, bass and bow, and continues through the alphabet.

Klein also encloses a one-page essay on heteronyms from the Smithsonian. It is by Felicia Lamport, and it is felicitous indeed. In form, it is a luncheon conversation at which friends keep dropping by to give the host slips of paper on which they have written heteronyms.

The host reads the first slip to his guest: “The bass swam around the bass drum on the ocean floor. . . . The buck does odd things when the does are in heat. . . .”

Catching on, the host’s guest tries to think of one himself: “After dessert she deserted.”

“No good,” the host interjects. “The spelling must be the same.”

“Suppose I had said, ‘She wished she could desert him in the desert’?”

“On the nose--same spelling, two meanings, two pronunciations.”

And so on. I don’t wish to plagiarize Lamport, nor do I presume to write as ingenious a piece, but I will borrow her form to illustrate the heteronym, using only words from Klein’s list.

I was having lunch at the Caltech Athenaeum with Kent Clark, the Caltech English professor, and Clark said, “I’m afraid the wind will buffet our buffet.” (Remember, this is imaginary. Clark is not this silly.)

“If it comes close,” I said, “we can close the doors.”

“It could compound the damage,” Clark says, “by blowing through the compound.”

“If the converse is true,” I said, “and it blows through here, it would be hard for us to converse.”

“Indeed,” he said. “We might have to desert before dessert.”

“No good,” I said. “But who is that at the entrance? She does entrance.”

“You might exploit her presence,” he said, “with a typical exploit.”

“Seduction is not my forte,” I assured him. “I’m better at the piano forte.”

Clark raised a hand. “If I know my French,” he said, “forte, meaning strength, is pronounced for-tay. And pianoforte is one word.”

“You’re right about pianoforte,” I admitted. “But forte is pronounced fort. “

“I concede my error,” he said. “That was a lead balloon. You lead me.”

A well-known biologist entered the room. “As I live and breathe,” I said. “A live biologist.”

Clark lunged at his shrimp cocktail. “He is making a study of one-lunged amphibians,” he said. “He expects to perfect it soon.”

“That’s perfect,” I said. “When will he present his findings?”

“Not at present,” said Clark. “The details are so minute that it takes more than a minute or two.”

“What do you project for your own future?” I asked Clark. “Do you have another play in mind?”

“I’m working on a project,” he said. “The object of it to eulogize co-education. I hope you don’t object.”

“Not at all,” I said. “My interest has peaked. But you look a little peaked.”

“It’s the incense,” he said. “That smell tends to incense me.”

“Do you intimate,” I asked, “that you don’t like exotic odors? Or am I too intimate?”

“I’m afraid I’m a rebel,” he said. “I rebel.”

“Do you have a contract for your new play?” I asked.

“The converse,” he said. “I’m hoping to contract for it, but I have no one to converse with.”

“I hope to read it,” I said. “I’ve already read ‘Let’s Advance on Science.’ Have you received the proceeds from it?”

“It proceeds slowly,” he said.

Klein’s list had manslaughter on it, with a question mark. But I notice that Lamport used it: “Man’s laughter can be crueler than manslaughter.”

She concluded: “Heteronyms spread like happy rumors, perhaps because they’re so useful in warding off insomnia, migraines or irritation with airplane delays.”

The greater the number, the number I get.