Last night Petely and I were sitting on the couch talking about books. "What's the biggest book in our house, do you think?" he wanted to know. He thought it might be the hardcover version of Gray's Anatomy (1257 pages), which did indeed turn out to be a hair fatter than the Columbia History of the World (1237 pages) though not as fat as Davies' Europe (1365 pages). I had to run upstairs to say good night to Stella; he continued the conversation with Elwood. I came down and found our condensed version of the OED on the dining room table. At >2000 pages per volume, it's the hands-down winner. It lives in our bedroom, though (what, you don't have an OED in your bedroom?), so Pete and I hadn't considered it when we surveyed the dining room shelves.
Elwood gave me the OED for Christmas in 1990, I think. In the pre-internet era a person needed a real dictionary, and I had looked wistfully at the OED ads in the back pages of Harper's and The Atlantic. He had bought it for himself, using a rather alarming chunk of his wages as an enlisted man in the Navy, but he was willing to give it to me. Probably some of you (at least some of the geekier among you) remember those boxed volumes, with the little drawer up top for the magnifying glass.
His sister was appalled that he would give me a dictionary for Christmas. "Did you ask for that?" she wanted to know.
I loved those books.
This weekend Elwood and I have been having an ongoing conversation with our 16-year-old, who just read the Inferno independently. "Hey, Dad, would you consider the Inferno an epic?" he wanted to know, which sparked an emphatic and enthusiastic discussion about an epic versus epic poetry. At dinner we were talking about prose and verse translations, and we had to stop to pull the Fagles down from the poetry shelf (right next to the dining room table, natch) to look at his magical rendering of the Iliad.
If there are any geeky young women out there reading this, bemoaning the lack of book-loving guys with whom to talk about literature, let me offer you some encouragement: it might take you 25 years, but you can totally grow your own.
Can we arrange for my daughter to meet your son in about 10 years?
Posted by: Calee | October 16, 2016 at 03:44 PM
Awwwww!!!! As usual, a winner of a post! And I really can't compare to you as far as reading and erudition go (even though I have phd in literature). We are not lacking in books, however, although I'm sure you win hands down, like the OED! :-)
Posted by: L - Mama(e) in Translation | October 16, 2016 at 05:23 PM
Oh, L, I'm sure that's not true!
Posted by: Jamie | October 16, 2016 at 07:52 PM
The best wedding present we got was a Webster's Unabridged (small compared to the OED, of course.) I can still usually find a definition faster than Kelson, even if he starts with his computer on his lap and I have to jump up and cross the room to get the book down.
Posted by: Salome Ellen | October 16, 2016 at 08:25 PM
I think the OED is an extremely sweet gift! And to have one in your home: Lucky you! I love everything about this post. :)
Posted by: el-e-e | October 17, 2016 at 07:27 AM
Oh, I always wanted one of those with the magnifying glass, too. What a sweet gift!
Posted by: Kathy | October 18, 2016 at 01:55 PM