Remember the elementary school days when our teachers introduced us to those trusty reference books that would guide us through our writing? These were the friends we would come to rely on for the rest of our lives, the books containing so many of the answers we would need to survive our school years. The dictionary told us what those long words we’d never seen before meant. The atlas helped us find those faraway places we’d heard about in Geography class. There were encyclopedias and almanacs full of facts that came in handy for homework assignments. And then there was that book that gave us lists of synonyms and antonyms for the words we wanted to use in our writing: the thesaurus.
This last book is an interesting case, though, because unlike the others, it has the same potential to hinder as it does to help. Yes, the thesaurus is a top go-to resource for many writers, especially beginners looking to enhance their work. However, something our teachers may have neglected to tell us is that the guide comes with unwritten instructions: use knowledgeably.
Trustworthy/reliable friend/ally?
“Hooray yay for synonyms!”
(Screenshot from RubberNinja‘s Gameoverse videos)
When we were first introduced to the thesaurus, we were taught that it’s a great resource for helping to expand our vocabulary, and that’s true. I can’t even count how many new words I’ve learned just by looking up synonyms for ones I already knew. Every time I work on my stories, I have my dictionary/thesaurus widget handy to help me find replacements for words that would otherwise be repeated too soon in the narrative. It even helps me remember advanced vocabulary that I may have forgotten (which happens more often than I’d normally care to admit).
A good use of a thesaurus is as a reverse dictionary. You know how sometimes you know exactly what you mean to say, but you just can’t find the right word for it? Well, all you have to do is look up more common words for the definition you want and see what options come up. True, this method may not be as effective as using an actual reverse dictionary, which has full definitions and cross referencing, but it’s still a convenient alternative to find simpler examples, especially for writers who don’t have access to a more complete guide.
So yes, writers, the thesaurus is your friend. It will save you from plain and repetitive writing, and can teach you a thing or two (or ten) in the vocabulary department. But be warned, because placing too much trust in this guide can have negative consequences as well…
Or dubious/suspicious enemy/foe?
So how could this dependable friend of ours also be a hazard to our writing? Instead of launching into a dissertation about the dangers of overusing a thesaurus, allow me to illustrate the point instead with an example from the popular TV series Friends. In this episode, Joey wants to write a letter of recommendation for Monica and Chandler, who are planning to adopt. When he mentions that he wants to make it sound smart, Ross suggests he use a thesaurus to replace plain words with advanced ones. Unfortunately, the results are less than satisfactory…
Joey: Hey, finished my recommendation. (hands a letter to Chandler and Monica) Here. And I think you’ll be very, very happy.
[…]
Chandler: I don’t, uh, understand.
Joey: Some of the words a little too sophisticated for ya?
Monica: It doesn’t make any sense.
Joey: Of course it does! It’s smart! I used a the-saurus!
Chandler: On every word?
Joey: Yep.
Monica: All right, what was this sentence originally?
Joey: Oh, “They are warm, nice people with big hearts”.
Chandler: And that became “They are humid, prepossessing Homo sapiens with full-sized aortic pumps”?
Joey: Yeah, yeah. And hey, I really mean it, dude.
– Friends (Season 10, Episode 5 – The One Where Rachel’s Sister Babysits)
As you can see, Joey’s overuse of a thesaurus causes him to turn out a ridiculous stream of long words that have nothing to do with what he wants to say. While Ross’s advice may have been good in theory, he probably should have warned Joey not to go straight for the “smartest sounding” word every single time. The problem wasn’t just that his letter would come out overly “purple“, but that there was an important tip he neglected to keep in mind when choosing synonyms: context is key.
A notable example of a misused synonym in the above dialogue is “humid”. As we all know, while “warm” and “humid” have comparable definitions when it comes to describing the weather, only “warm” is also applicable to people. A similar problem happens with the use of Homo sapiens, which is only good for scientific writing and doesn’t really work as an alternative for “people”. With all these big words so out of place, it’s no wonder Monica and Chandler couldn’t understand anything Joey had written!
But there’s another problem with placing too much trust in a thesaurus. Although the purpose of the guide is to index words with similar definitions, there’s a catch: the “synonyms” that come up don’t always have the exact same meaning. This means you should always be aware of the full definition of a word before you try to pass it off as a replacement for a more common one, advice that many writers fail to take into account.
One particularly embarrassing example of this practice from my own experience is when I used the word “fortuitous” incorrectly in a story. My thesaurus listed it as a synonym for “random”, but what I didn’t realize until after publishing the piece was that while “random” is a neutral word, “fortuitous” usually has a positive connotation (as in “good fortune”), which was not the feeling I intended to convey. Fortunately, no one ever called me out on it, but it was still embarrassing to know the mistake was out there for anyone to see. So to be safe, make sure you look up the definition of a synonym before you use it in your writing. You’ll be glad you did.
A thesaurus can be a friend or an enemy, depending on how much faith a writer is willing to invest in it. While its uses are mostly beneficial, it’s up to you to make sure that this trusted ally doesn’t turn on you and muddle up the meaning behind your words. It’s OK to trust your thesaurus to help you enhance the vocabulary in your writing. Just try not to use it in excess!
Monica: Hey, Joey, I don’t think we can use this.
Joey: Why not?
Monica: Well, because you signed it “Baby Kangaroo Tribbiani”.
What about you? Do you make good use of your thesaurus? Has it been more of a help or a hazard to your writing?
I love my thesaurus so I had to wonder at your title but I totally get what you’re saying. Understanding a word’s full definition is a great bit of advice=)
I love my thesaurus too, but I’d be lying if I said it’s never gotten me in trouble before. Oh well, at least it’s more helpful than harmful! Thanks for reading! 🙂
I use my thesaurus mainly as a reverse dictionary or for times when I just need a different word to further enhance what I’m trying to say. I always think simple writing works best and that the word that first comes to mind is usually the right one.
I’m constantly referring to my thesaurus for synonyms to enhance my writing. Sometimes I need a different word just to keep a previous one from being repeated too much. Simple writing works well, though; maybe it’s a good idea to try using a thesaurus only after writing a draft with the first words that came to mind. Thanks for reading! 🙂
I have a dysfunctional relationship with my thesaurus. Most often, if I’m trying to find a word, I can’t find it in the thesaurus because the word in question doesn’t really have any synonyms. As you say, many synonyms are not in fact synonyms at all. In my language studying days I would always search for example sentences using the word I was thinking of using, to be sure that it really fitted in the context I was planning to use it in. Another example of using synonyms without checking comes from Terry Pratchett, where the owner of a foreign restaurant asked around his neighbors for a word that meant every-day, ordinary, unpretentious, to use as the name of his new restaurant. He chose the word he liked the sound of best, and so his restaurant was named “Mundane Meals” – probably not the impression he was going for!
I run into the same problem sometimes; some of the words I look up in the thesaurus don’t turn out any synonyms. Checking if words fit into the context you want is a good idea. And “Mundane Meals” is a funny example of using synonyms incorrectly! Certainly not the impression he was hoping for! 😛
The practice of using a thesaurus strikes me as rather strange. While I have occasionally used a synonym website to find an (English) expression that was on the tip of my tongue but that for my life I couldn’t just think of anymore, I wouldn’t dream of using a word I’ve never encountered before anywhere else, just because I found it in a thesaurus and thought it sounded (or looked) nice.
Fine, so I might have done that sometime earlier after all, but generally speaking, I definitely avoid that, especially nowadays, just naturally. It just seems … commonsensical to me, you know? Overextending my vocabulary just sounds like a bad idea to me, perhaps because as a non-native speaker, I’m acutely aware of how silly you can sound when you use inappropriate synonyms and therefore more careful in a foreign language. Connotations. Matter. A. Real. Lot.
However, I admit that I consider myself decently well-read in both English and my native German, so my active and passive vocabulary is fairly large. For a younger or less educated person, a thesaurus is certainly helpful, but it comes with a considerable hazard. Therefore, I intuitively follow a rule that I only use words that I have seen explained or used, preferrably “in the wild” in a natural context, at least once, and usually several times, preferrably many times.
For example, I do have a rough idea of the meaning of “simpatico”, the way you use it in a sentence, and the stylistic level, from encountering it more than once in written texts. It seems to be the mark of a “quirky”, educated style, part of an American journalist’s or other kind of professional writer’s lingo who will typically write commentary about entertainment (say, Hollywood and the pop music industry) or politics in a jargon-y, colloquial, chatty and jovial manner, but with a large vocabulary, that marks them as a “pro” and “(industry) insider” who is “in the know” and treats the reader as roughly on the same level (not talking down to them), and who uses a large vocabulary with lots of foreignisms (typically including, characteristically, Yiddishisms) that mark the author as sophisticated, urban(e) and well-travelled. In sum, the word appears to be typical of a quite specific style. And that’s possibly a decisive reason why I intuitively avoid it (despite the similarity with German “sympathisch”). It just does not fit mine. On top, I might easily use it in a way that sounds off. It’s too pretentious for writers outside that specific trade, I feel.
It’s probably true that the more you read, the more you become aware of how easy it is to come across as just a little bit off. I’ve definitely got the impression that I’ve developped a rather delicate sense of what sounds appropriate, a considerable amount of “Sprachgefühl”, in written English. I’m convinced that people who believe English is an easy language just have tin ears. English is ridiculously difficult. Nintendo hard.
Could it be that the reliance on thesauruses, like spelling bees, is a rather American phenomenon?
That’s an interesting way to look at it! It’s important to know which words to use in which situations, and having an overly broad vocabulary may make things unnecessarily confusing (or worse, open the door to pretension). You’re right about English being a difficult language! Having grown up in the United States, I always thought it was easy until I moved to Brazil and was bombarded with questions about how to say certain things in English or why English has so many rules that don’t apply to any other language. I guess I’m lucky it’s my first language; it must be hard to learn it later in life! We Americans are an odd bunch indeed.
For what it’s worth, though, I never would have guessed English isn’t your first language based on your comment. You write very well! I imagine your German must be flawless. I appreciate you taking the time to leave your thoughts! Thanks for reading! 🙂
Thank you for the compliment! 🙂 Nobody’s perfect, though, and my written English level can easily lead to the expectation that my skill at speaking English and understanding it spoken would be comparable, but that would be a thoroughly mistaken assumption; my oral skills are sorely lacking. Many educated young Germans have a remarkably developped English competency nowadays due to watching Anglophone TV series and films in the original and YouTube videos, and reading lots on the Internet and in books, so I don’t feel particularly “elite”. Of course, having a closely related language of course puts us at a considerable advantage over, say, Brazilians, too; that reminds me how Italians have a particularly strong reputation for not being able to speak English well.
The amusing thing is that even lots of non-native speakers have this prejudice that English is easy, but the truth of the matter is that their own skills leave a lot to desire! As some unidentified quipster once said, the global language isn’t English; it’s broken English. (I’m not entirely satisfied that William H. Saito is the originator of the witticism.)
By the way, just in case you’re curious, Purple Prose Cat and poor old The-saurus have led me here. 🙂