Years ago I worked as a psychometrist, writing tests for a governmental entity. Constructing a good test is both an art and a technical skill. The test writer must be sure that answer choices do not lead the subject to the answer (a 3-1 split), or provide more than one correct choice (2-2 dilemma). You might not believe it, but a well constructed true/false test is the most difficult test to take.
I’ve never lost my fascination for test construction. I’ve used tests, disguised as puzzles, to teach special education children in junior high and one to use as an ice breaker for an employee gathering. I often create some sort of bibliographic “quiz” or puzzle when doing book displays at the library. There has been a Sherlock Holmes Jumble, a crossword to celebrate the town’s 100th anniversary, a classic mystery writer/detective challenge, and several specialized crosswords, amongst others. This vocabulary quiz will hopefully satisfy my continuing need to create a challenging puzzle cum quiz and provide a venue for others to increase their word power.
Building a vocabulary that is precise, varied, and powerful can become an enjoyable exercise. How does one find words that mean exactly what you intend? A key method is to read good authors. Although many might not agree with what he writes, William F. Buckley, Jr. has provided me with a plethora of choice words. There are many other authors who do not lower their standards or “talk down” to their readers. When I read their books, I keep a blank bookmark as a place keeper and jot down a word I don’t understand along with the page it’s on for context. I usually look the words up when I’ve finished the book, but sometimes it is necessary to run to the unabridged dictionary before you can continue reading with comprehension. Such a practice is enjoyable and educational.
What follows is the first of a number of vocabulary quizzes. There are 20 words and 25 definitions--not all will be used. At the end of the piece I have the answers. Hope you find a few new ones to make your own! The best way to do that is to use each in a sentence you create. Send me a sample.
1) anagnorisis 2) apothegm 3) apotropaic 4) atavistic 5) boustrophedon
6) brumous 7) bowdlerize 8) caducity 9) captious 10) condign 11) corybantic 12) defalcation 13) delator 14) deracinated 15) eidolon 16) eristic 17) esurient 18) execrable 19) fatidic 20) febrile
a) fragility of old age and senility; b) controversial; c) expurgate as in censorship; d) critical moment of recognition; e) dull, impassive; f) feverish; g) misty or foggy, especially in winter; h) urgent; i) uprooted, extirpated; j) integrity, honesty; k) completely abhorrent; l) greedy, hungry; m) caused by fermentation; n) frenzied; o) protective for warding off evil; p) misappropriation of money held in trust, or by officials; q) reversion to primitive or more remote ancestor; r) prophetic; s) pithy, terse remark; t) phantom or apparition; u) medical process; v) writing that runs left to right and then right to left; w) excessive fault finding in order to confuse opponent in an argument; x) informer; y) deservedly severe punishment
Answers: 1-d; 2-s; 3-o; 4-q; 5-v; 6-g; 7-c; 8-a; 9-w; 10-y; 11-n; 12-p; 13-x; 14-i; 15-t; 16-b; 17-l; 18-k; 19-r; and 20-f.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
No Hands To Hold
Cultural anthropologists tell us that Americans focus on the individual. However, most women maintain an identity that is at least partially relational. Women need to know where they belong in relation to others, especially the women in her family. What is under discussion is the maternal line, discounted by those obsessed with patrilineal ancestry. Despite the secondary importance of maternal lineage in societies that value male offspring, having a matrilineal history is comforting to a woman.
This relational identity may be a reflection of our genetic history. Bryan Sykes, in his book The Seven Daughters of Eve, describes the unbroken and unchanged inheritance of mitochondrial DNA (mDNA) that can be traced back from daughter to mother—all the way back to first daughter of Eve, who becomes the mother of a unique genetic lineage. In his book, Mr. Sykes employs an unusual convention for non-fiction. The first part of The Seven Daughters of Eve consists of factual accounts of DNA, mitochondrial transmission, and examples of anthropological and archeological evidence for each era. In the second portion of the book, he uses the factual accounts he has established and writes seven fictional vignettes based on each ancestral mother. It is that model I will employ here to examine the terminus of the maternal line.
What happens when the lineage is severed? Connection with the past is betrayed. Links to the future dissolve. The unfortunate woman who fails to pass the mDNA to a daughter is caught at the open end of a fast whirling crack the whip game where the last one will most surely be cut adrift. Genetically, she is the terminus of her maternal history. She is cast off, alone, with no hands to hold.
What follows is the story of the last one of her mDNA lineage. It is the story of Jean and her only daughter, Maisey. Maisey died as an adult almost a dozen years ago. Jean has no hands to hold.
Maisey was hell on wheels to raise. She was extremely bright, assertive, artistically gifted, and defiant. Her exceptional intelligence kept her on the safe side of things, but just barely. The teenaged Maisey hated her mother, probably not without cause.
Because of her high aspirations and intelligence Maisey managed to get accepted to a top tier college where she graduated with honors. Accustomed to living away from home she couldn’t wait to move out and be on her own after graduation. Soon she married a man her parents considered an unsuitable partner. Too independent and proud to ask for help, Maisey worked two jobs to pay for graduate school while managing a home. When she had successfully completed her master’s degree, she began a successful career as a consultant in an internationally recognized firm. Not content with her accomplishments, Maisey started to work on a Ph.D.
As the years went on, the emnity between mother and daughter dissolved. The once deadly enemies became friends. Their friendship was based on mutual respect and love. Both women had matured. Jean could finally say that the Maisey of old had “turned out really, really well.”
When Maisey and her husband purchased their first home, Jean planted bushes and flowers in Maisey’s garden when her daughter was too busy with work and school. Dad mowed the lawn. Jean wallpapered her daughter’s house while Dad did repairs. Maisey, herself, would tackle any job. She and her Dad remodeled the bathroom. Maisey took on the entire ceramic tile floor by herself. Parents and daughter established a close and mutually respectful relationship.
Often Maisey initiated activities. Maisey would drag Jean to antique stores where the daughter, who had a good eye for such things, usually found a treasure. On Sundays Maisey and her husband would come to dinner. While Dad was clearing up, Maisey and Jean settled on the couch to watch their favorite TV detective. Of course, a back rub for Maisey was always on the schedule. They always argued about whodunit and discussed a mystery they would write together. Maisey had the talent; Jean the background. They would begin just as soon as the Ph.D. was finished—only one class and her dissertation remained. Those were good years. If only Jean knew how precious and short they would be.
The phone call came after 10:30 in the evening. Jean was in the shower when her husband called to her. Word had come from a distant state. Maisey was dead: sudden death: far from home: alone. It is not something you willingly believe. On the previous day they had celebrated Maisey’s birthday. Five days later Jean and her husband would experience the heartbreak of burying their beloved daughter. This was a nightmare from which Jean would never waken.
Escape remains impossible as the quotidian activities of life intrude. Jean watches as the laughing mother and her daughter shop together for shoes. In a local restaurant she sees a mom treating her daughter to lunch. Jean longs to be like friends and relatives who can care for their daughter’s children, and who are honored in their daughter’s homes. As she and her husband age there is no daughter to say, “Sure, I’ll drive you to the doctor’s office, Mom.”
Jean cannot escape wanting what she can never have—simple, normal family relationships. Each time she sees the shoppers, diners, grandchildren, she loses Maisey all over again. How many times must Maisey die! The pull of mDNA is relentless. Jean no longer belongs.
Envy and disappointment are ever present. This creates guilt as well as a gulf in her relationships. While rejoicing in other’s good fortune, the bitter taste of disconnection sometimes intrudes. In As You Like It, Shakespeare wrote, “O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!” Jean knows that unpalatable envy and bitterness are impossible to escape. Ancient links have been severed. Jean is adrift. She has no hands to hold.
This relational identity may be a reflection of our genetic history. Bryan Sykes, in his book The Seven Daughters of Eve, describes the unbroken and unchanged inheritance of mitochondrial DNA (mDNA) that can be traced back from daughter to mother—all the way back to first daughter of Eve, who becomes the mother of a unique genetic lineage. In his book, Mr. Sykes employs an unusual convention for non-fiction. The first part of The Seven Daughters of Eve consists of factual accounts of DNA, mitochondrial transmission, and examples of anthropological and archeological evidence for each era. In the second portion of the book, he uses the factual accounts he has established and writes seven fictional vignettes based on each ancestral mother. It is that model I will employ here to examine the terminus of the maternal line.
What happens when the lineage is severed? Connection with the past is betrayed. Links to the future dissolve. The unfortunate woman who fails to pass the mDNA to a daughter is caught at the open end of a fast whirling crack the whip game where the last one will most surely be cut adrift. Genetically, she is the terminus of her maternal history. She is cast off, alone, with no hands to hold.
What follows is the story of the last one of her mDNA lineage. It is the story of Jean and her only daughter, Maisey. Maisey died as an adult almost a dozen years ago. Jean has no hands to hold.
Maisey was hell on wheels to raise. She was extremely bright, assertive, artistically gifted, and defiant. Her exceptional intelligence kept her on the safe side of things, but just barely. The teenaged Maisey hated her mother, probably not without cause.
Because of her high aspirations and intelligence Maisey managed to get accepted to a top tier college where she graduated with honors. Accustomed to living away from home she couldn’t wait to move out and be on her own after graduation. Soon she married a man her parents considered an unsuitable partner. Too independent and proud to ask for help, Maisey worked two jobs to pay for graduate school while managing a home. When she had successfully completed her master’s degree, she began a successful career as a consultant in an internationally recognized firm. Not content with her accomplishments, Maisey started to work on a Ph.D.
As the years went on, the emnity between mother and daughter dissolved. The once deadly enemies became friends. Their friendship was based on mutual respect and love. Both women had matured. Jean could finally say that the Maisey of old had “turned out really, really well.”
When Maisey and her husband purchased their first home, Jean planted bushes and flowers in Maisey’s garden when her daughter was too busy with work and school. Dad mowed the lawn. Jean wallpapered her daughter’s house while Dad did repairs. Maisey, herself, would tackle any job. She and her Dad remodeled the bathroom. Maisey took on the entire ceramic tile floor by herself. Parents and daughter established a close and mutually respectful relationship.
Often Maisey initiated activities. Maisey would drag Jean to antique stores where the daughter, who had a good eye for such things, usually found a treasure. On Sundays Maisey and her husband would come to dinner. While Dad was clearing up, Maisey and Jean settled on the couch to watch their favorite TV detective. Of course, a back rub for Maisey was always on the schedule. They always argued about whodunit and discussed a mystery they would write together. Maisey had the talent; Jean the background. They would begin just as soon as the Ph.D. was finished—only one class and her dissertation remained. Those were good years. If only Jean knew how precious and short they would be.
The phone call came after 10:30 in the evening. Jean was in the shower when her husband called to her. Word had come from a distant state. Maisey was dead: sudden death: far from home: alone. It is not something you willingly believe. On the previous day they had celebrated Maisey’s birthday. Five days later Jean and her husband would experience the heartbreak of burying their beloved daughter. This was a nightmare from which Jean would never waken.
Escape remains impossible as the quotidian activities of life intrude. Jean watches as the laughing mother and her daughter shop together for shoes. In a local restaurant she sees a mom treating her daughter to lunch. Jean longs to be like friends and relatives who can care for their daughter’s children, and who are honored in their daughter’s homes. As she and her husband age there is no daughter to say, “Sure, I’ll drive you to the doctor’s office, Mom.”
Jean cannot escape wanting what she can never have—simple, normal family relationships. Each time she sees the shoppers, diners, grandchildren, she loses Maisey all over again. How many times must Maisey die! The pull of mDNA is relentless. Jean no longer belongs.
Envy and disappointment are ever present. This creates guilt as well as a gulf in her relationships. While rejoicing in other’s good fortune, the bitter taste of disconnection sometimes intrudes. In As You Like It, Shakespeare wrote, “O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!” Jean knows that unpalatable envy and bitterness are impossible to escape. Ancient links have been severed. Jean is adrift. She has no hands to hold.
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