Why Great Print Dictionaries Still Deserve a Place on Your Shelf — But Careful: Don’t Read the Dictionary from A to Z

I once attempted to read the Oxford English Dictionary, transcribing every word and meaning onto a pad of paper. It was a terrible idea. I reached the letter ‘K’ and abruptly stopped to maintain my sanity. My goal was to enrich my vocabulary, but I instead discovered that there is something uniquely insane and punishing about absorbing completely disparate words in quick succession for weeks on end. I do not suggest you try this, and besides, there are much better ways to improve one’s vocabulary such as varied and consistent reading.

If you were born before the internet, you likely owned a dictionary (and a thesaurus). Just about every single household had one, and many still sit on shelves often treated as relics of a bygone era replaced by AI, search engines, and the right click definition. The era of ubiquitous dictionaries is over, and although you can still find slim paperbacks in most bookstores, the venerable big print comprehensive dictionaries are now quite rare and certainly valuable. In fact, the serious print dictionaries are real treasures, and they will certainly continue to accrue in value.    

As a book seller, I am always looking for truly magnificent dictionaries, but what does a truly great dictionary look like, and why are they still important?  Consider this great 3-volume dictionary — Webster’s Third New International Dictionary (full disclosure, I have two copies in the store).

It is unabridged, and was produced in 1986, before the advent of online dictionaries that use algorithms, that truncate words to prioritize common usage, or what I call the ‘algorithmic vulgates’. While online dictionaries cut and compress language for speed and clicks, print unabridged dictionaries preserve the fullness of language and meaning. 

The pre-digital comprehensive editions are wonderful to behold. They include all the various nuances, as well as the historical usage and evolution of the words, the etymology and the pronunciation. Essentially, they are manuals for advanced communication and for the intellectually curious – they are at the very limit of where advanced vocabulary ends, and advanced linguistics begins.

Words are stories that often span millennia. Consider the wealth of information in the single entry ‘estrange’: it comes from Middle French (MF), Old French (OF), and Medieval Latin (ML), all derived from the Classical Latin extraneus. The entry includes multiple definitions with illustrative usage examples from noted authors, clear pronunciation guides, and a detailed list of synonyms, each with its own nuanced explanation of distinct meaning and application. Lexicographers would consider this an accurate and high-quality entry. But it also illustrates the sheer challenge of composing a truly exhaustive dictionary in print. That single entry illustrates the scale of the enterprise. Tracing one word across centuries is work enough, but to do that for half a million words requires truly monumental effort.

The Oxford English Dictionary, 2nd edition (1989, 20-volume set) attempted exactly that, tracing words back through every known historical layer.

 It remains the most complete historical record of English and the gold standard for scholars and etymologists. While I don’t have a set on hand to compare its entry for estrange, it would almost certainly go deeper than the Latin root extraneus. Alongside it stands the last monumental American unabridged dictionary, the aforementioned Merriam-Webster’s Third New International Dictionary (1961; 1986 deluxe reprint, 3-volume set). Together, these works represent the twin peaks of modern lexicography.

And if you’re wondering about extraneus — extra is not Greek in origin and certainly not Etruscan. It derives from the Proto-Indo-European root h₁eḱs (“out”), which gave rise to Greek ex-, Sanskrit áḥ, and Old English/Germanic ut (“out”). The suffix -neus is a native Latin formation.

While this all sounds very academic, let’s not forget that comprehensive dictionaries are great fun. Aside from the tactile experience and joy of holding beautifully crafted tomes, these books are living monuments of our culture. They are the physical embodiment of a whole philosophy of language, and in fact, thanks to the millions of book lovers worldwide, many of the finest unabridged print dictionaries will live on in permanence and will be passed on to future generations.

Ultimately, randomly browsing and learning new words is a joy and a delight, and not a chore. It’s a reminder that language binds history and culture together. Every dream library deserves a table or lectern dedicated to an open dictionary, and perhaps one also for those large, beautiful comprehensive atlases.