Affectionate reflections on working in the Dictionary Department

The tiny Dictionary Unit for South African English (Grahamstown) operates noisily in a Victorian nunnery, and the huge OUP Dictionary Department (Oxford) works silently in a former printing works. This odd paradox was one of the most startling impressions when I arrived at the beginning of October to work on the SA vocabulary in the OED.

The most daunting aspect for the first two days (apart from the battle to beat the computer applications called Sid and Tess into submission - very quietly!) was the seeming isolation in which people worked. My 'Good morning!' as I passed each desk felt intrusive and inappropriate, and resulted in expressions of faint surprise and even disorientation on the faces behind the computers. And people vanished after work from the offices on either side of me without a word of farewell! I realized that the more ebullient African side of my nature would have to be toned down!

The tea-trolley was another new experience. In Grahamstown we are social drinkers - coffee together in the Unit from 8.45 until 9.00; and tea round a table with the other inhabitants of the St Peter's Building for 15 minutes each morning and afternoon - times during which we 'exchange ideas with others working in the areas of English and education'...

So - at first I saw my reasonable command of English as a snare and a delusion, and felt like a baffled (middle-aged) child with a subtle and mysterious adult culture to decipher!

But the mild discomfort soon faded. Gradually the patterns of the Department's working relationships became discernible, and friendships were established (often via e-mail!). Gradually, with a precious little list of commands in a notebook, and with many cries for help to Chief Editor John Simpson, I managed to tame Sid and Tess for the performance of a range of simple tasks. I started work on the OED's SA vocabulary (Mo-Z), choking up the printer and photocopier with reams of proofs from the OED and the Dictionary of SA English on Historical Principles.

I learned (slowly) how to divide the wads of edited proofs between the four appropriate editing groups, having asked John Simpson and Edmund Weiner the same inane questions several times over. They remained ever friendly and patient, though they must have thought at times 'NEWS takes precendence over all other considerations! We've TOLD you that!!' (I did feel sorry for poor Michael Proffitt, head of the NEWS group, buried under growing piles of paper).

I discovered that, despite the complex division of the OED editors into departments called NEWS (New English Words Series), General Revision, Science, Etymology and Phonetics, and Bibliography (have I forgotten anyone?), the methodology of editing in the little Grahamstown Dictionary Unit was similar.

The five editors compartmentalized their thinking in order to perform the range of editing tasks, and each of us also came to be seen as the specialist in a particular area (such as etymology, phonetics, the OED styling rules, natural history, or bibliography). Instead of the 'pre-editing' selection of citations from incomings, our keyboarder entered all new citations at the foot of each electronic entry, for selection by the editors.

We hired part-time student help to search the (WordPerfect) text by author and title and to correct inconsistencies (laboriously, using macros we had written), rather as the Bibliographical editors do for the OED in a much more efficient manner.

But TESS (the searching software) we cannot emulate at present. TESS is for me the most enviable feature of the OED computing system: I would kill for TESS. Being back here on my computer without her is like operating on one of those clunky, upright, cast-iron Remington typewriters.

After a week I hired a bike and rode to work, feeling happily like an Oxford person. I also ventured beyond the boundaries of the OED and talked to the dictionary-makers in the other corners of the Department, to members of the Reference Computing group, and to the Dictionary of National Biography team. I even visited the OUP Archives in the basement.

Back home now, baking in 90-degree weather while Oxford freezes, in my large, hot office with a view of trees, hills, and the spreading townships of Grahamstown, I think with considerable nostalgia of the maze of open-plan offices and the dark afternoon windows of the Department.

The ten weeks I spent in Oxford were full and happy, and I learned a great deal. Thank you for the privilege of working in your midst, for allowing me to use your desks in rotation, for the time so many of you gave me, and for your friendly forbearance. I hope to return to the Department one day, if you'll have me, to tackle A-Mo. I wish you all strength as you climb uphill towards Z...