Run
for the Ages
by
Howard
Richler
“The longest entry in
the OED2 was for the
verb set which required 60,000 words to describe some 430 senses. As
entries began to be revised for the OED3 in
sequence starting from M, the longest entry became make in 2000, then
put in 2007.” Wikipedia
As of 2011, there is a new
ruler in the lexicographical world
– “run.”
The OED
shows 82 distinct definitions of run as a verb and 51 separate ones
of the word as a noun but this is only one chapter of the story. In
fact, in its primary meaning of “senses relating to locomotion
involving the use of the legs, and uses deriving from these,” it
shows no less than a dozen forms. Not only, does it mean “to go
with quick steps on alternate feet,” it also has eleven more
sub-meanings in just this one category including the use of the
tongue, riding on horseback and “to partake of the leg (as opposed
to the wing) of a cooked chicken or other fowl.”
This stll leaves 81 verbal
definitions that include “running for office,” (politics),
“running the bank,” (making a sudden demand for funds), “running
the ball” (football and rugby), “running the scent” (hunting)
“running goods,” (smuggling) “run of a show,” (play,
film or exhibition) “running a cornice,” (buliding) and “run in
families” (familial traits). There are also many senses that relate
to functionality such as “run a test,” “run a machine,” “run
a business,” and “run a country” and over forty senses that
deal
with liquids.
Run is also quite prolific
as a noun and aside from the many well-known sports senses it enjoys,
there are also nautical, musical, and mining meaning. Even more
obscure is its use as a term for an abode of a bower bird. When
pluralized and used with the definite article it refers to
diarrhoea. There are also countless idiomatic “run” expressions
such an “running a table” in billiards, “running off” to be
married, “running down the clock” at a sporting event, “running
off at the mouth,” “running hot and cold” and “take the money
and run.”
Recently, it took OED
lexicographer Peter Gilliver recently almost a year to decipher all
the myriad senses of the word run in the OED's
third edition. Gilliver calculated that the verbal sense alone of
“run” ran to 645 separate meanings and that the total number
of words for the entry was “over 130,000”
– even more than Austen's
beloved novel Pride and
Prejudice which boasts
128,971 words.
Lest you feel at this
point somewhat chastened by your lack of knowledge of so many of the
senses of “run,” it should be pointed out that some of them are
obsolete.
For example, definition
#26 of run as a noun is “fistula” and there is but one citation
from 1648 and definition # 9 as a noun “the fact of being visited
by customers” is last recored in 1846. Similarly, the verbal sense
of getting something hastily carried through is shown as a British
colloquialism with only one citation in 1891. Also, some usages are
strictly regional such as the noun use of run in Australia and New
Zealand to refer to large open tract of land for grazing animals and
the verb sense to refer to an uninterrupted period of sheep shearing.
In the OED's
second edition completed in 1989 it was the word “set” that
ruled supreme taking up more than “run.” “Set” was
especialy more prolific as a verb; yet in a mere two decades it has
lost its preeminence to “run.” How did this happen?
The answer is twofold.
First, whereas in the past people would use “set” often for the
placing of objects, in recent years we are more likely instead to use
the verb “put.” Secondly, “run” is one of the dominant
verbs of the cyber age; when we execute a computer program, we “run”
it. It's logical that this computer use of run has led to our
proclivity to employ the word in other spheres. But to a greater
extent I believe that the increased use of run, compared to the
demise of set, reflects a victory of flux over stasis. In our
helter-skelter world run reflects our constant frenetic activity.
Whereas set might represent a past that was more staid and perhaps
classier, run represents a more athletic, sexier future.
The sun has set on
“set.” May the new lexicographic emperor have a long run.
Howard Richler's latest
book is Strange Bedfellows: The Private Lives
of Words.
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