Language as a Means of Social Control and Resistance in The Dictionary of Lost Words

The Power to Define: Language as Control and Resistance in The Dictionary of Lost Words

In The Dictionary of Lost Words, Pip Williams explores how the act of defining language is never neutral. The novel argues that the selection and definition of words in the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) function as a tool of social control, reinforcing class and gender hierarchies by deciding which words—and therefore which experiences—are deemed worthy of record. Yet the novel also shows that collecting and redefining excluded words becomes a powerful act of defiance and self-definition. Through Esme's journey from a child under the sorting table to a lexicographer of lost words, Williams demonstrates that language is not just a mirror of society but a weapon that can be wielded both to oppress and to resist.

The Arbitrary Authority of the Dictionary

The novel's opening scene establishes the dictionary's power to confer legitimacy. In the prologue, young Esme sits on her father's lap as he sorts word slips. When a slip bearing her mother's name, “Lily,” arrives, Esme asks if her mother will appear in the Dictionary. Her father explains that a name must mean something to be included—and that the slip is incomplete, lacking a quotation. He then throws three slips into the fire. Esme's desperate attempt to rescue one burning slip, which chars and shatters in her hand, becomes a formative moment. She reflects that she learned “some words matter more than others.” This early lesson reveals that the dictionary's authority is not based on inherent value but on arbitrary criteria—what has been written down, by whom, and with what evidence. The burning of slips is a literal act of erasure, showing how the dictionary's gatekeepers control which words survive.

This theme deepens in May 1887, when Esme, hiding under the sorting table, catches a slip with the word “bondmaid.” She keeps it, and later shows it to Lizzie, the Murrays' maid. Lizzie immediately recognizes herself in the definition: “A slave girl, or a bonded servant, or someone who is bound to serve till death.” Lizzie says, “That's what I am.” The word defines her social position, and its absence from the dictionary—because Esme stole it—means that Lizzie's identity is not officially recognized. The bondmaid slip becomes a symbol of how language can both name and confine. Esme's act of keeping it is an early, instinctive resistance to the dictionary's authority, but it also highlights the ethical complexity of her theft: she has removed a word that might have given Lizzie a place in the record.

The Exclusion of Women's and Working-Class Words

As Esme grows, she begins to see the systematic bias in the dictionary's selection process. In May 1902, she visits the Covered Market and collects words from Mabel, a working-class woman. Mabel provides definitions for “cunt” and “quim,” words that are common in spoken language but absent from the dictionary. Esme writes them down, attributing them to Mabel, and later searches the published volume for “cunt” only to find it missing. When she asks her father why Dr. Murray won't include words that aren't written down, he explains that the dictionary requires written quotations for verification. Esme challenges this: “But some nonsense from Mr. Dickens the author is?” Her father's response—that a quotation from a greengrocer is not adequate—reveals the class bias embedded in the dictionary's methodology. Words spoken by working-class women are deemed unworthy of record, while words from canonical male authors are privileged.

This exclusion is not just about vocabulary; it is about whose lives and experiences are considered valid. Esme's act of writing down Mabel's words, complete with her name and the date, is a form of resistance. She is creating her own record, one that honors the speech of those the dictionary ignores. The slips she collects become a counter-archive, a collection of “lost words” that challenge the official narrative.

The Trunk as a Site of Resistance

By May 1909, Esme's collection has grown into a trunk full of slips, hidden under Lizzie's bed. She realizes that these words “weren't given to me to hide away. They need an airing. They should be read, shared, understood.” She decides to create her own dictionary of women's words—words they use and words that refer to them, words that won't make it into Dr. Murray's dictionary. This is a direct act of defiance against the dictionary's authority. Esme recognizes that the OED leaves out not just words but meanings, and she wants to give voice to the women whose language has been silenced.

The trunk itself becomes a symbol of resistance. It is a physical space where excluded words are preserved, but it is also a hidden, private archive. Lizzie, who initially objects that some words “isn't fit,” eventually helps Esme sort and pin the slips, offering her pincushion as a tool. This collaboration between Esme and Lizzie—one a middle-class woman, the other a servant—shows that resistance can cross class lines. The trunk is not just a repository; it is a declaration that these words matter.

The Epilogue: Language as Preservation and Colonization

The novel's epilogue, set in Adelaide in 1989, expands the theme beyond the OED. Megan Brooks, an elderly lexicographer, presents a lecture titled “The Dictionary of Lost Words.” She holds a single slip from Esme's collection, and the novel implies that her life's work has been to bring these lost words to light. The epilogue also introduces the Kaurna language, spoken by the Aboriginal people of the Adelaide plains. The speaker notes that Kaurna words were recorded by German missionaries in the 1830s and 1840s, and that because they were written down, the language can be revived. This example complicates the theme: writing down a language can preserve it, but it can also be a form of colonization, as the missionaries' definitions may have imposed foreign meanings. The novel suggests that the act of defining is always a negotiation of power, whether it is the OED's exclusion of working-class words or the missionaries' recording of an Indigenous language.

Character and Symbol Connections

The theme is embodied in several characters. Esme is the central figure of resistance, moving from a passive observer to an active collector and redefiner. Her father, Harry, represents the dictionary's institutional authority, but he is also sympathetic, allowing Esme to make suggestions and even encouraging her. Dr. Murray, the editor, is a gatekeeper who ultimately cannot include every word, but he acknowledges the biases of his volunteers. Lizzie, as a servant, is directly affected by the dictionary's definitions; her identity is tied to the word “bondmaid,” and her reaction to its absence shows how language can both define and erase. Ditte, Esme's godmother, is a subversive figure who sends Esme a “superfluous” word and later writes a letter explaining the dictionary's limitations. Mabel, the market woman, provides the raw material for Esme's collection, her words a testament to a life the dictionary ignores.

The symbols reinforce these connections. The trunk of lost words is the most powerful symbol, representing both the hidden nature of excluded language and the potential for its recovery. The bondmaid slip is a specific instance of a word that defines a person's social position, and its theft and eventual inclusion in Esme's collection highlight the tension between preservation and appropriation. Dictionary slips, the physical units of the OED, are also symbols of the dictionary's authority; Esme's collection of slips subverts that authority by repurposing them. Finally, the women's words and their meanings—collected from Mabel, Lizzie, and others—represent a counter-canon that challenges the male-dominated record.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel does not present resistance as pure or unproblematic. Esme herself participates in the dictionary's work, making suggestions that are sometimes accepted. She is both an insider and an outsider, benefiting from her access to the Scriptorium while also critiquing it. Her collection is also selective; she chooses which words to preserve, and her own biases are evident. When she steals the bondmaid slip, she removes a word that might have given Lizzie a place in the dictionary, an act that is both protective and possessive. The novel also shows that the dictionary itself is a work in progress; the epilogue notes that the second edition includes additional words, suggesting that the process of inclusion is ongoing. Yet the fundamental power imbalance remains: the dictionary still decides what is “standard” and what is “lost.” The Kaurna example adds another layer, showing that even well-intentioned recording can be a form of control.

Study Questions

1. How does the novel use the bondmaid slip to illustrate the dictionary's role in social control?

The bondmaid slip defines a woman as a “slave girl” or “bonded servant,” and Lizzie immediately recognizes it as her own condition. The fact that the word is missing from the dictionary—because Esme stole it—shows that the dictionary's authority can erase identities. The slip becomes a symbol of how language can both name and confine, and its absence highlights the arbitrary power of the dictionary's gatekeepers.

1. What does Esme's decision to create her own dictionary of women's words reveal about the nature of resistance?

Esme's decision is a direct challenge to the OED's authority. By collecting words that are spoken but not written, and by attributing them to the women who use them, she creates an alternative record that honors marginalized voices. This act of self-definition is a form of resistance, but it also acknowledges the limitations of the official dictionary, which cannot contain every word or meaning.

1. How do the characters of Lizzie and Mabel complicate the theme of language as resistance?

Lizzie, as a servant, is directly affected by the dictionary's definitions, but she is also skeptical of Esme's project, initially calling some words “not fit.” Mabel provides the raw material for Esme's collection, but her words are often crude and tied to her social position. Both characters show that resistance is not always heroic or pure; it is shaped by class and circumstance.

1. In what ways does the epilogue's discussion of the Kaurna language complicate the novel's treatment of language preservation?

The Kaurna example shows that writing down a language can preserve it, but it can also be a form of colonization, as the missionaries' definitions may have imposed foreign meanings. This complicates the idea that recording words is always an act of resistance, suggesting that the power to define is always contested.

1. How does the novel suggest that the dictionary itself is a work in progress, and what does this imply about the possibility of change?

The epilogue notes that the second edition of the OED includes additional words, and the novel's own timeline shows the dictionary's evolution. This suggests that language is not fixed, and that the process of inclusion can be challenged. However, the novel also implies that the fundamental power imbalance remains, as the dictionary still decides what is “standard” and what is “lost.”