Harry Mead is fascinated by an absorbing history of the Oxford English Dictionary.

THE MEANING OF EVERYTHING by Simon Winchester (Oxford University Press, pb £7.99)

SAMUEL JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY edited by Jack Lynch (Levenger Press, £19.99)

THE ALPHABET by David Sacks (Arrow Books, pb £7.99)

WHAT do The Wind in the Willows and the Oxford English Dictionary have in common? Kenneth Grahame modelled Ratty in The Wind in the Willows on a friend, Frederick Furnivall, who was a key figure in the production of the OED. Their shared qualities included keenness and what Simon Winchester, in this absorbing history of the OED, calls "a rattish pedantry" - which didn't permit Toad to get away with "We learned 'em." "We taught 'em," corrected Rat.

Of course, a proper pedantry was fitting in an early compiler of the world's foremost dictionary, wherein lies "the meaning of everything". And what a story its creation makes.

The task began in 1857 when, dissatisfied with existing dictionaries, a group of distinguished figures, from academia, the church and elsewhere, resolved to have a multi-volume dictionary containing what Winchester calls "a full-length illustrated biography" of every word - not only its meaning, but origin, variant spellings, pronunciations, and quotations, from literature and the street.

Interested volunteers were recruited, to send in information of on slips of paper, which were filed in a specially-made oak case consisting of 54 pigeonholes, designed to hold 60,000 slips. The work expanded far beyond that, and when the project, sluggish from the start, was virtually aborted in 1879, more than two tons of slips were returned from contributors to Furnivall's home.

Initially the project was nurtured by the Philological Society. In search of a publisher it approached Cambridge University, which said no - the biggest mistake in publishing history. Only Oxford University was prepared to take on the clearly uncommercial venture.

Amazingly, the dons placed this immense work of scholarship in the hands of a self-taught draper's son from Scotland, who had left school at 14. But 38-year-old James Murray had become eminent for his knowledge of language. He launched a fresh appeal for help, seeking volunteers to comb 1,568 books. Two sisters in Liverpool were among his most assiduous contributors.

From them and others, 1,000 slips were soon arriving daily, for a small team to deal with. A financial crisis was averted by a banker who happened to be a book collector. The first of the 13 volumes came out in 1884 - as a paperback, intended to be bound with others later.

Originally expected to take ten years, the dictionary, which included two million quotations in its 15,490 pages, wasn't completed until 1928 - 71 years after the launch. Since updated, it remains, as Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin said on its completion, "the greatest enterprise of its kind in history". Simon Winchester's biography captures the vision, the endeavour - and the heartache - behind it all.

Before the OED, the standard was set by Dr Samuel Johnson's dictionary published in 1755, from which Jack Lynch, an American professor of English, has made a generous selection. Complete with the original quotations, and pleasingly laid out, the entries include such surprises as "housewife", "horoscope" ("the configuration of the planets at the hour of birth") "jailbird", "lady-like" ("soft; delicate; elegant"), and "zany" ("one employed to raise laughter").

"Yuck" then meant "itch'. And how about this for sexism?: "Statesman" - "a politician; one versed in the arts of government". "Stateswoman" - "a woman who meddles with public affairs". A fascinating browse.

But, finally, down to Zed, with David Sacks' history of the alphabet. After charting its evolution from ancient Egypt 4,000 years ago, he profiles each letter, explaining, for instance, why X signifies the unknown, and A is a symbol of quality. And he is bang up to date.

Did you know that when George Bush waves, his raised fingers are intended to represent the W of his initials, a-la Churchill's V-for-Victory sign? Incidentally, V was the last letter to join the alphabet. So how come Z is at the end? Sacks explains all.

Published: 01/03/2005