When a member of our writer’s group recently confessed that she was not familiar with Roget’s Thesaurus, shock reigned. A writer without Roget? Unthinkable. Unbelievable. Unimaginable. Incredible. Inconceivable.
At succeeding meetings, though, I began to wonder if perhaps some of us, in our eagerness to show our bosom acquaintance with the man, weren’t prone to overdo it just a bit.
A manuscript without a dozen or more unfamiliar words became a rarity, and the first person to use a “Rogetism” owned it for at least the next two meetings. No one dared show up without a tattered copy of Roget under an arm or tucked discretely in a bag or purse. And the words, “Roget says…..” were enough to settle any synonymical argument that might arise. In just a few short weeks we elevated the man to sainthood.
Secretly, I grew a bit tired of hearing about him but, to retain my standing in the group, dutifully came up with a new Rogetic application each week.
But, alas, one sad Tuesday morn I discovered, to my horror, that I had forgotten to prepare my usual scintillating offering. Determined to dazzle the group with my best work yet, I rushed to the computer and began tapping out ideas.
An hour passed quickly, but nothing worthwhile emerged. I thought and thought, but each time I picked up my little blue Thesaurus, a severe case of Roget’s block attacked with new vengeance. What was I to do? The only solution I could think of was to call in sick. And so, finally, I did.
My agonizing continued for a few more days before I came up with a brilliant idea. I would, with Roget’s help, rewrite the nursery rhymes I had learned as a child. They would be wonderful, marvelous, stupendous. The kids would not only learn the old rhymes, but they would end up with limitless vocabularies. Roget would do the work, and I would become famous.
For 3 days, I worked on “Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean.” Was “lard” or “greasy substances” the best word to replace fat? Neither? Perhaps “oily lumps”….. And would “devour” or “masticate” be the better substitute for eat?
I wrote, and wrote, and rewrote, but no matter how hard I tried, it just didn’t come out sounding like the old familiar nursery rhyme I remembered.
Then I tried, “Mary had a little lamb”, with even less satisfactory results. Mary had a small woolly animal seemed a bit bland.
Well, maybe some well-known Bible passages would be more my style; the twenty-third psalm, perhaps. I cleared the computer and wrote, “The Deity is my herder. I will by no means suffer insufficiency.” Oh no! Referring my Heavenly Father as a “herder” left a lot to be desired. So much for my career as a Bible translator.
I put Roget on hold for a couple of weeks before I finally discovered a place to fit him back into my life. And along with my discovery, I managed to cure the Roget malady of my writer’s group, or at least put it back into perspective.
One Tuesday, I appeared before the group with a sheaf of papers in my hand. Distributing one to each member, I instructed them to put the Roget enhanced sayings back into familiar English. Prizes were awarded to the first two finishers. (I thought of giving them new Thesauruses, but, unable to reduce myself to such cruelty, settled for M & M’s instead.)
Some examples follow. You may want to try these or others in your own group.
1. Residents of translucent silicate shelters should forbear casting consolidated masses of mineral material.
2. A carefully scrutinized metal container does not generate bubbles of vapor.
3. It is unprofitable to lament because of accidentally wasted white mammary fluid.
4. A consolidated mass in locomotion does not accumulate bryophytic plants.
5. Precede your vault with scrutiny.
We had a lot of fun with this project, but it pointed out how ridiculous the overuse of synonyms can be. True, the Thesaurus is a marvelous tool, but it is just that, a tool.
ANSWERS TO ROGETISMS
1. Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
2. A watched pot never boils.
3. There is no use in crying over spilt milk.
4. A rolling stone gathers no moss.
5. Look before you leap.
Jeanne Gibson lives in Springfield, OR and writes on a variety of subjects such as marriage, divorce, kids, cats, making money from home, writing, and electric bikes. To find out more about Roget’s Thesaurus, especially in large print editions, check out her blogpost at:
http://sowingseedsthatmatter.blogspot.com/2010/07/from-squinting-to-reading-glasses-to.html
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Jeanne_Gibson
