It was back in 1954. I was 16
years of age and working in the sawmills of Port Alberni on Vancouver Island.
Not too many young teens volunteer to work in sawmills these days, but 1954 was
a different age. I was part of a large immigrant family of 10 children. So,
pretty poor pickins at home as you can imagine, especially since in those days
immigrants were on their own; no pampering from any nanny state or government at any level at the time. My Dad
and I had agreed that as soon as I turned 16, he would try to get a job for me
at one of the local sawmills, where just about everybody in the town worked,
including my Dad. Good pay, by the way. The town had the highest per capita
income in all of Canada in those days, thanks to the International Woodworkers
of America (IWA) and even more so to MacMillan & Bloedel.The idea for this
arrangement was that I and two older sisters, would help bring home the money to pay off the
mortgage for a fairly large house that cost all of $5500.
However, I loved school and had
my eyes on UBC to study accounting. In order to achieve that goal, I enrolled
in the High School Correspondence School of the British Columbia Government in
Victoria. So, while holding a full time mill job, I took my high school in my
spare time. I did grades 10-12 in four and a half years, after which I went off
to college. I never made it to UBC or into accounting, but that’s another
story. However, the arrangement turned successful; I now hold a doctorate from
a European university and have authored many books. Go check that out on my
website < www.SocialTheology.com
>
I had a friend by the name of
Ben Wisselink, also a young immigrant who came from The Netherlands all on his
own. Of course, he also worked on the mills, but, like me, had academic
ambitions and before long enrolled at UBC to study forestry. For Christmas
1956, he gave me a book with the title Roget’s
Thesaurus. Not many people in a mill town like Port Alberni would be
interested in such a book, but for me it became a real treasure that I have
used regularly throughout the years until early 2017, when I dumped it and
bought an updated thesaurus by Webster. Oh, yes, from a thrift store for
$1.50.
But you have no idea how
difficult it was for me to dump that old one. It was worn and held together
with black electrical tape, but to me it had been a precious friend for over 60
years! I always consulted it whenever I
was writing speeches, lectures, articles or books. It felt like a betrayal to
both the book and my friend Ben. Today,
March 7, 2017, I still kind of mourn its loss, even though the newer Webster
version seems like it will serve me well. I also had occasion to mourn the loss
of Ben due to death during his UBC years. By that time I had enrolled at Calvin
College at Grand Rapids MI. With the dumping of his gift, I cut the final tie
to him apart from only my memory and a few photographs.
While I used that Thesaurus
faithfully, I often wondered what kind of person would create such a wonderful
list of words. Who was this Roget? Where
and when did he live? What did it take
to spend so much time on word lists? I
have deeply appreciated his effort and used it much, but I could not imagine
spending so much time, effort and money on word lists! Curious though I have been, it was not enough
for me to turn to the internet and find out; I had other things to do. But then I came across its story in a
newspaper article I had filed away almost a decade ago and forgot about. Probably,
I had read it before and filed it with the expectation I would use it some day.
Well, that day has arrived. Today is that day and here is that article:
A life of
madness, pain and words
Roget: New
book looks at the man who created the first thesaurus
By Arthur
Spiegelman
The Province, March 30, 2008
His mother suffered dark depressions and tried to
dominate his life. His sister and daughter had severe mental problems, his
father and wife died young and a beloved uncle committed suicide in his arms.
So what did Peter Mark Roget, the creator of Roget’s Thesaurus, do to handle all the
pain, grief, sorrow, affliction, woe, bitterness, unhappiness and misery in a
life that lasted more than 90 years?
He made lists.
The 19th century British scientist made
lists of words, creating synonyms for all occasions that ultimately helped make
life easier for term paper writers, crossword puzzle lovers and anyone looking
for the answer to the age-old question: “What’s another word for …”
And according to a new biography, making his lists
saved Roget’s life and by keeping him from succumbing to the depression and
misery of those around him.
“As a boy he stumbled upon a remarkable discovery –
that compiling lists of words could provide solace, no matter what misfortunes
may befall him,” says Joshua Kendall, author of the just-published The Man Who Made Lists, a study of
Roget’s life (1779-1869) based on diaries, letters and even an autobiography
composed of lists.
Kendall, in a recent interview, said Roget cared more
for words than people and that making lists on the scale that he did was
obsessive-compulsive behavior that helped him fend off the demons that
terrorized his distinguished British family.
Madness was a regular guest in Roget’s home, Kendall
said. One of his grandmothers either had schizophrenia or severe depression,
and Roget’s mother lapsed into paranoia, often accusing the servants of
plotting against her. Both his sister and his daughter suffered depression and
mental problems.
Then there was the case of Roget’s uncle, British
member of Parliament Sir Samuel Romilly, known for his opposition to the slave
trade and for his support of civil liberties. He slit his own throat while
Roget tried to get the razor out of his hands.
Unlike a thesaurus, no one understood Uncle Sam’s last
words: “My dear … I wish …”
Indeed, to quote most of the Thesaurus listing for pain, Roget’s was a life filled with grief,
pain, suffering, distress, affliction, woe, bitterness, heartache, unhappiness,
infelicity and misery.
Kendall said, “The lists gave him an alternative world
to which to repair.” Many writers have declared their debt to Roget, including
Peter Pan’s creator, J.M. Barrie. In homage, he put a copy of the Thesaurus in Captain Hook’s cabin so he
could declare: “The man is not wholly evil – he has a Thesaurus in his cabin.”
The 20th century poet Sylvia Plath called
herself “Roget’s Strumpet” to pay respects for all the word choices he gave
her.
But the British journalist Simon Winchester holds
Roget responsible for helping to dumb down Western culture because his work
allows a writer to look it up rather than think it out.
Roget made his first attempt at a thesaurus at age 26
but put aside the effort and did not publish his book until 1852, when he was
in his 70s and retired. He then kept busy with it for the rest of his life.
It became an instant hit in Britain but did not sell
that well when an American edition was published two years later. But when
Americans went crazy for crossword puzzles in the 1920s, the Thesaurus assumed its place on reference
shelves.
Kendall’s book is written in a style that he calls
“narrative non-fiction,” which contains a lot of dialogue and descriptions of
how Roget and his friends feel and think, all, he says, based on source
material.
“I did a lot of work to stitch together a narrative,”
he said, adding that all the scenes in the book are based on actual events.
Here’s a website with a similar story, including info
about Thesaurus Day of January 18 in the UK:
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