Part mystery, part suspense, part gripping history lesson, this was a revealing and surprising look at how the OED was made. It was a long labor of love and groundbreaking in it's organization. And how revealing that one of its chief contributors was criminally insane. But that's only half the story, the other half is about the perhaps equally as inexplicable drive of the "professor" in bringing about this astounding accomplishment. This is a great book for history buffs.

The prompt for writing a quick review of this book is that I just started a third title by the same author, Simon Winchester, The Crack at the Edge of the World, and couldn't help but remember with fondness - yes, I used the word 'fondness' in regard to reading a book about how a dictionary was written - when I read The Professor and the Madman. Winchester is to my knowledge the developer and foremost practitioner of an immensely entertaining historical-narrative literary style whereby he lures us into turning page after page (rapidly) of a history book by telling a truth-is-stranger-than-fiction story that reads like pulp fiction, and yes, which is set within a larger historical context and moment. Erik Larson followed the pattern in Devil in the White City , introducing us to the 1893 Chicago World's Fair and how it changed the history of America through the lurid tale of a serial killer who was as big as Jack the Ripper before Jack found his first victim. In some parallel ways, Sebastian Junger employed this model, telling us about seemingly mundane things - the deep sea fishing industry, the physics of waves, the types of North Atlantic storms, and a little of the history of Gloucester, Massachusetts - through the sensational story of the crew of the Andrea Gail in his book The Perfect Storm, even better known for the George Clooney movie.

What is the historical setting and importance of the Professor and the Madman? The writing of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), of course. Now, without making any claims of being an academic, I must admit that topic kind of, sort of interested me anyway. I like the history of words and their definitions. But enough to read a book? I'm not sure. Even if it's less than 300 pages? Still not sure. It may never have reached the top of the stack. But even if you aren't that interested in what made the OED the finest reference work of its day - and perhaps the greatest reference ever created - the story of Dr. Charles Minor, the man who contributed thousands of entries, all painstakingly researched and neatly written from his home in Crowthorne, England, just 50 miles from Oxford, just might hook you.

What tied Minor to the OED and made his role so remarkable? Was it that he was an American creating something so peculiarly British? Nope. There was no snobbery as a sub theme. That he was a veteran of the Civil War, where he was surgeon for the troops of the North? Interesting, but not interesting enough to bring a dictionary to life. Was it that he maintained a long distance relationship with Professor James Murray - strictly by correspondence - for decades, despite numerous invitations from Murray to attend fundraising dinners or just stop by the office to meet due to his prolific 10 thousand entries? Not even close. Was it that he thought Irishmen were ... and that one night he went out and ... and because of that he ended up living in ... ? Yes. Yes. And yes.

I don't want to spoil the book for someone wants to know why it took 70 years to create the OED - Murray worked on it for 40 of those years but died before it was released - which contained almost 2 million quotations that helped define more than 400 thousand words. As an aside to those who love words and where they came from, one of the challenges of completing this monumental masterpiece was the stated goal that the OED would provide literary quotations, from oldest to most recent, to illustrate each word's first usage, evolution, and current definitions. Is it any wonder that the publisher had London book sellers place advertising tracts in the books they sold to solicit research help from the general population?

But back to Minor. I guess since I've already let you know that Murray was the professor, it is safe to reveal that Minor was the madman. When Murray finally insisted that he must meet the good doctor face-to-face out of respect for his unequaled contributions to the OED- and yes, if Minor wouldn't leave his home and travel to Oxford, he would come to him - you can imagine the shock he must have felt to show up at the front door and discover Minor was an insane murderer living at the Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum.

Who knows? Let this book rise to the top of the stack beside your nightstand and you might be shocked to discover yourself enjoying a scintillating read about the history of a dictionary!

This very interesting biography gives more than just the dry facts. I was fascinated to learn about how the OED was actually created. Prior to reading this book, I had always taken dictionaries for granted, never giving a thought to how the words are chosen and defined. I was amazed at the amount of volunteer assistance that was offered and used for this enormous undertaking.

OK, so I am a lingui file, but honestly, this book reads like a victorian novel and illuminates the birth of our shared understanding of English.
Now, more so than ever before, thanks to the Professor and the Madman of the title, we are able to understand every nuance of the language we call our native tongue.
Thanks to Winchester, we are able to understand the nuances of the creation of our most comprehensive lexicon.
A great read, even if you hold our language to be suspect (or perhaps especially if...)

There aren't enough words in the Oxford English Dictionary to describe my loathing for this book. It is constantly being recommended to me, because I apparently fit the stereotype of someone who would like it(I have an English degree, I enjoy reading, and I am a bit of a language maven). As someone who loves books, I am usually offended when others complain that a book is "boring." Having said that, my main criticism with The Professor and the Madman is that it is painfully and shockingly ... boring. The only reason I was able to finish this book is that I was trapped in a cabin during a snowstorm. My options were to either read this book or stare out into a blank white landscape.

I should have stared into the landscape. A more accurate title would have been: The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Letters Being Exchanged, Bureaucracy, and Conversations About Minutiae.

The fascinating and poignant story of the Oxford English Dictionary and two similar, yet very different in circumstance, men whose lives would likely never have crossed except for their work on the OED. Although I had heard the story of the 'lunatic American doctor' who contributed reams of information for the OED, I still found myself riveted to the sad story (and occasional salacious detail in my opinion). As a word geek myself, I have a love/hate affair with dictionaries and yes, there are times when I just sit down and read a few pages. The incredible undertaking and vast scope of the project is obvious when you view the dictionary itself in its multiple-volume splendor, but I tend to forget that most Americans have likely never actually seen one in person. So of course, I found the story of the dictionary itself interesting and worthwhile reading, but combined with the inexplicable mystery of how and why the 'madman' was in a situation that enabled him to contribute so much...it just boggles the mind. "The Professor and the Madman" by Simon Winchester is well worth your time and a fun, educational read.

I will never take a dictionary for granted again. The effort that went into the compilation of the Oxford English Dictionary in Victorian England, long before the days of computers, was a cumbersome and manual process that took decades. Professor James Murray is a fascinating character and his passion for words and their etymology is admirable. But the interesting facet of this story is that of Dr. W.C. Minor. The creators of the dictionary readily accepted his significant contributions, despite his confinement to an insane asylum. Minor's paranoia and delusions are masochistic and Winchester presents his madness in a disturbingly gripping way. But at the heart of this book is the love of words that Murray and Minor share. It was an extremely intriguing tale of the history and creation of one of the definitive works of the English language.

THIS REVIEW REFERS TO THE UNABRIDGED AUDIO VERSION:

Before reading (well, listening to) this book, I would have found it difficult to believe that the story of the making of a dictionary could be interesting! But it is. It's full of fascinating, if sometimes sad, characters as well as a wealth of information about how the greatest dictionary in the English language came to be (that story, in itself, is amazing).

The author's use of language is superb and -- even more astounding -- he reads the book as well as any professional reader (a rare talent!). I simply loved this book!

I've already read Winchester's book "The Map That Changed the World," and I can't wait to read ALL his books.

I grabbed this one off the public library shelf on a whim. It looked like it might be really boring but as I was due in my reading regimen (3 books/week -- 2 fiction, one non-fiction) for a non-fiction read, this one seemed at least by its cover information to be informative.

What a rare and pleasant surprise! This book reads like a great fiction novel (and is a poster case that truth is stranger than fiction.) It's the story of James Murray, the editor of the original Oxford Dictionary, and his unending efforts to complete it. The parallel story is that of one of his notable contributors... Dr. William Minor, a convicted lunatic living in Broadmoor.

Of course Murray didn't realize that his most active and brilliant contibutor was completely insane and it's fortunate that he did not know this from the start because Dr. Minor ultimately made a huge contribution to this renowned work.

In any case, don't be put off by the subject matter. This is one of those rare books that nearly anyone would enjoy. It would also make a nice gift.

Highly recommended!

(This review is for the unabridged audio book, read by the author, Simon Winchester).

This is the tale of how the greatest and most definitive dictionary in the English language came to be, thanks to the unlikely crossing of paths between a British scholar and an American who was committed to a mental asylum. While the topic of dictionary-making may seem dull, this book weaves a tale of violence, the American Civil War, insanity, murder and Victorian England's sensibilities in a way that oddly makes for a very compelling read.

This being the very first audio book I've ever listened to, I have to say that it was an excellent way to spend a long-distance trip by car. And it's a fairly short "read" - as it only takes up 7 1/2 hours over the span of 6 discs (short by audio book standards).

The author has a mellifluous English accent that propels the story forward, while at the same time gently reminding the reader that most of the action in the story takes place in late-19th and early 20th century Britain (with large detours in the U.S. and occasionally elsewhere).

I highly recommend this book for anyone who has a remote interest in the etymology of words, reading or even dictionaries.

It is an interesting book, explaining how the Oxford English Dictionary was put together by volunteers supplying definitions and quotes for every word in the English language. In the back of the book is a call for additional volunteers to work on keeping the dictionary current! The man who made the largest number of contributions was Captain William Chester Minor, late of the United States Army, whose residence at the time he was making contributions was Broadmoor Asylum for the criminally Insane, Crowthorne, Berkshire. He was committed to Broadmoor for the murder of George Merrett in February 1872. Captain Minor suffered from what today would be diagnosed as Schizophrenia - although his problem was not diagnosed until 18 November 1918 after the British government formally returned the aged Civil War captain to the United States Army. Interestingly, the author makes the statement that schizophrenia, then called dementia praecox, is early onset Alzheimer's, or at least it was so believed in 1918.

Though it was written before "The Meaning of Everything" it could easily serve as a chapter or appendix to the book. Winchester does a superb job of telling both the early history of the OED while at the same time setting down the 'odd' collaboration between Professor JAH Murray (of Oxford) and the Madman Dr. WC Minor (or the Broadmoor Lunatic Asylum). Their relationship was to span forty years and affect the OED in a way that no other relationship did.

Minor (who was an American Doctor and Civil War Veteran) had come to England to "try and get his head straight" after the horrors he saw during the Civil War. While in England he murders an innocent man and is sent to the 'Lunatic Asylum' for the rest of his life. While there he gets involved with the creation of the OED by sending in slips that demarcate word meanings and usage. His work (voluntary) is so specific and exact that he is asked by Murray to 'find' citations for certain words and to also look for earlier usages and meanings.

Murray finally meets Minor after seven years of correspondence an is amazed at the work this so called 'lunatic' has been able to send into the OED over a period of years. They never become what you would call 'fast friends' but do establish a corresponding association that is both respected and admired by all those who work on the OED.

I listened to this book on CD and found Winchester's reading of his own book to heighten the enjoyment of it. Knowing when to put emphasis on the proper parts of the book to specifically call your attention to a passage or section, made the book thoroughly enjoyabale.

Zeb Kantrowitz

The first time that I had ever heard about the Oxford English Dictionary, I was a freshman at Bryn Mawr-- straight from the sticks. I had tested out of needing to take the freshman English classes, and had plunged straightaway into classes that were aimed at upper classman. While eventually that turned out to be fine, my very first class was with a peach of a gentleman who clearly found me an unlettered barbarian who should have been sent back to the freshman comp classes-- or even worse. I was not only an unlettered barbarian, but a *stubborn* unlettered barbarian and we fought about absolutely everything. A little bit over midway through the semester, he marked me down on a paper because I used the word "meld". He scribbled in the margin: "Not a word!" Furious, I went to the library and came back with a popular dictionary and I held the entry for "meld" under his nose during his office hours. He icily slammed the book shut and glared at me. "If it is not in the Oxford English Dictionary," he said, "it is not a word!"

That began my lifelong love-hate relationship with the OED. At least with the idea of the OED. I've somehow never managed to acquire my own copy. (I keep telling B. that I'd love one for my birthday, but I'm pretty sure that he doesn't believe that I'm serious.) But still, The Professor and the Madman was kind of a natural for me. People have been recommending it to me ever since it appeared; I've had several offers to lend it to me (I don't borrow books); I've had it regularly suggested on Amazon. I finally picked up my own copy second-hand. And now, reader, I've finally read the book.

And-- honestly-- it's a little bit anticlimactic. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice book. It's one of these new breed of nonfiction books that read mostly like magazine articles writ large. Winchester delivers a very good magazine article writ large. It is surely entertaining, very interesting, decently written and a good story. What else could you want?

I would have *perhaps* wanted a little more about the history of the Dictionary and a little bit less about Minor. But this isn't a fair remark, as that was the subject of the book. But that would have added more substance, and if I have a criticism it is surely that the book is not very substantial.

Know someone who loves words? This is probably an excellent gift. It's unlikely to be controversial, and they will probably get a kick out of it. Do not expect too much, and you will not be disappointed.

(I really appreciated, by the way, that Winchester included a list of suggestions for further reading. I will definitely be following some of those up.)

Absent the anti-Christian bias of his geological disaster books, Winchester writes a very good tale about a fascinating sidebar of history during the compilation of the OED. The madman was an American military surgeon (son of missionaries to Sri Lanka!) who served in the Union army during the Civil War, whose slow spiral to insanity culminated in the shooting of an innocent man in London 15 years later. The professor was the editor of the OED who corresponded with the madman for 20 years at the asylum outside London where he made a full-time career of volunteering word lists and quotes to the OED editorial team.

How their histories shadowed and paths crossed, and how the OED came to be, make for a great story. The book was lavishly praised and worthily so, reading like a psychological thriller that can't be put down. I literally read through this in less than 24 hours in just a few sittings.