there is no classification of the universe not being arbitrary and full of conjecture”? Is there any difference between these two? What was this sentence supposed to mean again? Wait, what does “clear” even mean?
Figure 7.2: Category III (Transcendental Relations of Action), subcategory I—condensed
To get it right in Wilkins's system is not just to discover how words correspond to other words, but to discover the true meaning of a word. The synonyms he lists are just other English words, with all their little defects and redundancies; it is the position in the table that really matters. It is the position that is meaning. I could see that “clear” corresponded to “evident” or “obvious,” but I couldn't really say what it
meant
. I was losing my grip on the simple word “clear.” Only one word into my translation and my solid understanding of English was unraveling in my hands.
I took a break. Called a friend. Reassured myself that I could still speak English.
Then I returned to the original quotation (actually, the
original
original is in Spanish, and Borges uses
notoriamente
, “notably,” rather than
es claro
, “it is clear,” but let's not even get into that). What does he mean to say?
There is no classification of the universe that is not arbitrary and full of conjecture. All you have to do is look around a bit and you will come to this conclusion too. Not because these words are easy to understand
(discourse > signification of words > not obscure),
but because this is the conclusion the facts reveal to you
(transcendental > causes itself to be known).
Yes, yes. I started to feel steady again. It was the second meaning,“manifest,” that best captured the intention of “clear” in this case. I felt more than steady—satisfied, in fact. It was a particular kind of satisfaction, the kind you feel when you've finally wrangled control over a wide range of linguistic shade and nuance. It was a familiar feeling. Where did I know it from …?
Then it hit me; I was using a thesaurus. Wilkins, without intending to, had invented the thesaurus.
I pulled down the old
Roget's
and turned to “clear.” I perused the long list of senses, from “acquit” to “transparent” to “audible.” Wilkins had covered them all.
Now I must make an admission. I have always used a thesaurus in the way that most people use one. You go to the alphabetical index, look up a word, find some synonyms, and pick the one that best expresses the sense you're going for. If you don't see something you like, you look at the little number next to the closest sense, turn to the numbered list, and find more alternatives to choose from. You make a choice, stick it in your sentence, and close the book until next time.
I never gave a thought to how the numbered list was organized. I never even thought about whether it
was
organized. But of course it has to be. The words near each other in this list are related in meaning. There must be some basis for considering them related.
That basis, it turns out, is a conceptual classification not all that different, in raw outline, from that proposed by Wilkins. My thesaurus,
Roget's International Fourth Edition
, groups words into eight major classes (physics and sensation were added, in later editions, to the six originally provided for by Roget):
abstract relations
space
physics
matter
sensation
intellect
volition
affections
Each of the major groups is further divided into sub- and sub-subcategories. There are ten kinds of abstract relations, three kinds of matter. “Beauty” is under affections. It is a personal affection, a discriminative one. “Truth” is under intellect. It is an intellectual faculty, a conformity to fact.
And guess where “shit” is? When I looked for this word in Wilkins's table, I had expected to find it grouped with corporeal actions, but was surprised to find it under motion instead (a purgatory motion, from the guts downward)—another
Figure 7.2: Category III (Transcendental Relations of Action), subcategory I—condensed
To get it right in Wilkins's system is not just to discover how words correspond to other words, but to discover the true meaning of a word. The synonyms he lists are just other English words, with all their little defects and redundancies; it is the position in the table that really matters. It is the position that is meaning. I could see that “clear” corresponded to “evident” or “obvious,” but I couldn't really say what it
meant
. I was losing my grip on the simple word “clear.” Only one word into my translation and my solid understanding of English was unraveling in my hands.
I took a break. Called a friend. Reassured myself that I could still speak English.
Then I returned to the original quotation (actually, the
original
original is in Spanish, and Borges uses
notoriamente
, “notably,” rather than
es claro
, “it is clear,” but let's not even get into that). What does he mean to say?
There is no classification of the universe that is not arbitrary and full of conjecture. All you have to do is look around a bit and you will come to this conclusion too. Not because these words are easy to understand
(discourse > signification of words > not obscure),
but because this is the conclusion the facts reveal to you
(transcendental > causes itself to be known).
Yes, yes. I started to feel steady again. It was the second meaning,“manifest,” that best captured the intention of “clear” in this case. I felt more than steady—satisfied, in fact. It was a particular kind of satisfaction, the kind you feel when you've finally wrangled control over a wide range of linguistic shade and nuance. It was a familiar feeling. Where did I know it from …?
Then it hit me; I was using a thesaurus. Wilkins, without intending to, had invented the thesaurus.
I pulled down the old
Roget's
and turned to “clear.” I perused the long list of senses, from “acquit” to “transparent” to “audible.” Wilkins had covered them all.
Now I must make an admission. I have always used a thesaurus in the way that most people use one. You go to the alphabetical index, look up a word, find some synonyms, and pick the one that best expresses the sense you're going for. If you don't see something you like, you look at the little number next to the closest sense, turn to the numbered list, and find more alternatives to choose from. You make a choice, stick it in your sentence, and close the book until next time.
I never gave a thought to how the numbered list was organized. I never even thought about whether it
was
organized. But of course it has to be. The words near each other in this list are related in meaning. There must be some basis for considering them related.
That basis, it turns out, is a conceptual classification not all that different, in raw outline, from that proposed by Wilkins. My thesaurus,
Roget's International Fourth Edition
, groups words into eight major classes (physics and sensation were added, in later editions, to the six originally provided for by Roget):
abstract relations
space
physics
matter
sensation
intellect
volition
affections
Each of the major groups is further divided into sub- and sub-subcategories. There are ten kinds of abstract relations, three kinds of matter. “Beauty” is under affections. It is a personal affection, a discriminative one. “Truth” is under intellect. It is an intellectual faculty, a conformity to fact.
And guess where “shit” is? When I looked for this word in Wilkins's table, I had expected to find it grouped with corporeal actions, but was surprised to find it under motion instead (a purgatory motion, from the guts downward)—another
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