The lead up to Christmas last year was inevitably coloured by the gloomy news of international economic recession. Chiming in with the general gloom of the times is some ineffably sad news I gleaned the other day from the e-mail newsletter I am sent as a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. Can you believe it but the latest edition of a leading children’s dictionary, published by the Oxford University Press no less, will no longer contain the words: abbey, aisle, altar, bishop and chapel, monastery, monk, nun, minister, parish, pew, psalm, pulpit, saint, sin, devil and vicar; gone too are carol, cracker, holly, ivy and mistletoe, not to mention dwarf, elf and goblin. Instead, the new edition of the Oxford Junior Dictionary introduces children to the grey world of today’s charismatically-led Britain with the more ‘relevant’ words: database, export, curriculum, classify, tolerant, vandalism, negotiate, interdependent, committee, compulsory, bullet point, voicemail, citizenship, dyslexic and celebrity.
Leaving politics and religion aside, the list of omitted words is almost a pastoral poem in itself: gone are the colourful and evocative words of the childhood imagination: fern, moss, buttercup and marzipan, adder, heron, kingfisher, lark, starling, stoat, stork, terrapin, thrush, weasel, wren, acorn, blackberry, bluebell, bramble, brook, chestnut, clover, conker, ivy, pasture, sycamore, vine, violet, walnut and willow. The head of children’s dictionaries at Oxford University Press is quoted as saying: “Many children once lived in semi-rural environments and saw the seasons. Nowadays, the environment has changed. We are also much more multi-cultural. People don’t go to church as often as before. Our understanding of religion is within multi-culturalism.”
When you have digested the full implications of this quote and become even more deeply depressed than you were when you read your credit card statement or projected mortgage repayment scheme, I suggest you console your self with the following thought. In my experience, children do not want to own, let alone use, a dictionary — they are worthy books that are bought by well-meaning relations only to sit upon shelves rarely opened and gaining dust while the children for whom they are intended are busy getting on with real life — or else sitting in the corner entranced by the world of J.K.Rowling or Philip Pullman in which words like elf and moss and conker tumble out from every exciting good-versus-evil page.
Thank goodness our Education Team at Norwich Cathedral introduces thousands of children every year to words they will not now be able to find in the Oxford Junior Dictionary. Thank goodness our stunning new website is unafraid to use vocabulary I have always been naïve enough to believe was basic and thank goodness it includes an on-line glossary which I now officially designate a non-politically correct, non multi-cultural supplement to all future editions of OUP’s colourless and romance-free publications.
Jeremy Haselock