Readers of Dictionaries Ask Changes From A to Z

Aardvark may just make it into the next elementary edition, but the chances of any made-up word getting into any edition are zilch.

So says Victoria Neufeldt, editor of Webster’s New World Dictionaries, who answers several hundred letters annually regarding questions, suggestions and criticisms.

Such letters have been coming to the company’s Cleveland headquarters for 35 years, beginning with publication of the dictionary’s first edition by World Publishing Co. In time, every letter except those illegible or from questionable sources is answered by Neufeldt, as they were by her predecessor, David Guralnik.

Amateur lexicographers suggest a revision of, or an addition to, the definition of a word. Word experts, even scientists, write with information that can be useful for preparing definitions.

Referring to the Second College Edition of Webster’s New World, first published in 1970, a woman from Peoria, Ill., wrote that “ravioli are not usually square, but are made square by the lazy. They are not usually covered with a tomato sauce. . . . They are snail-like in shape and are cooked in a good chicken broth. . . .”

Ravioli is defined in the Third College Edition, published in 1988, as “small casings of fresh pasta dough, often square, filled with seasoned ground meat, cheese, etc., boiled and served in broth, with butter and grated cheese, or in a savory tomato sauce.”

Not long ago, said Neufeldt, an inmate wrote from Atmore, Ala., home of Holman Prison, on “a matter of life and death.” Could the word “squirm” imply guilt? The answer, he said, could save his life.

“I could not tell, of course, what the right or wrong of the situation was,” Neufeldt said. “And no judge would make a decision based on the letter from me. But he was seriously asking for help, so I gave him as much information as I could about the denotations and connotations of the word squirm . . . .”

The origin of posh is the source of frequent letters, said Neufeldt, adding that it does not come from “Port Out, Starboard Home,” said to be the most desirable sides for quarters in the days of steamship travel between England and Africa. To those who insist otherwise, Neufeldt asks for evidence. “I never hear from them again.”

Although the word’s ultimate origin is unknown, our modern meaning is probably derived from an obsolete British slang word posh, meaning a dandy, according to the Third College Edition.

A couple of years back, a classroom at the K. R. Booker School in Las Vegas called it a “serious omission” that aardvark wasn’t in their dictionary. Neufeldt replied:

“In each of our dictionaries, we try to cover all the vocabulary that the users for whom the books are intended are likely to want or need. . . . We also want to avoid unnecessary vocabulary, so as to keep the book to a reasonable size and price. . . . It is possible that we should have entered the word aardvark simply because it is such a curious name. . . . Therefore, I have made a note to consider entering it in our next edition of the Elementary Dictionary.”

A great number of letters are from people who have made up words and want them entered in the dictionary. Such words are known as neologisms or coinages, and the chances of getting them in the dictionary are nil.

“In general, a word doesn’t exist until it is recognized and accepted as such by a good part of the speech community,” Neufeldt said. “Dictionaries record and describe only the language that exists or has at one time existed.

“A new word, or even a new usage for an existing word, can take years before it is accepted widely enough to be recorded in Webster’s New World dictionaries.”