And I don’t mean the online versions that claim to be thesauri but merely list synonyms. Call me old and biased (I go by both), but using a real thesaurus is a skill every writer should have.
Roget’s Thesaurus is the gold standard, made famous by its use in English literature classes worldwide. Mine is from 1987, when I was fourteen and first reading the classics at school. I should probably get a recent one since new words have evolved and Roget’s has been updated since my version was published (Google ‘Sloane Ranger’ and ‘yuppie’ for a good laugh—you can’t get more '80s than that).
Roget’s creator, the British philologist Peter Mark Roget, was also a physician and scientist who researched the microorganism mycobacterium tuberculosis. He was familiar with taxonomy (the naming and organising of things into groups that have similar qualities), which may explain his approach to creating a thesaurus. His thesaurus begins by being divided into six classes: the first three cover the external world and the second three the internal.
EXTERNAL WORLD
Class One: Abstract Relationships (ideas of number, order and time).
Class Two: Space (concerned with movement, shapes and sizes).
Class Three: Matter (the five senses).
INTERNAL WORLD
Class Four: Intellect (the exercise of the mind).
Class Five: Volition (the exercise of the will).
Class Six: Emotion (morality and religion).
These classes represent a logical progression from the abstract (Class One) to the tangible (Class Six). The journey from hell to heaven in Dante’s The Divine Comedy springs to mind. And that was Roget’s intention. He believed that his system, starting with matter and culminating in morality, reflected the ultimate journey of mankind: existence to religion.
But how can we know which of the six classes our word relates to? A shortcut, and one I recommend, is to use the alphabetised index at the back of the book as a kick-off point and journey on from there. For example, do you remember Class Three: Matter uses the five human senses: touch, taste, smell, sound and sight? You can forget you know this because if we flick to the index and look up, for example, homicide—a useful word in any crime writer’s vocabulary—we are sent to section 362 in the core of the thesaurus. Under 362Killing: destruction of life, there is a page full of a medley of words and phrases. Within this bounty there is the suggestion (or potential motive?) of jealousy. Do you see where I’m going with this? Words lead to ideas, and ideas lead to meaning. Roget is unpacking our minds, prompting our neurones to fire, hinting at connections we might otherwise not see. There are also fabulous words like 'uxoricide': the killing of one's wife—something we see on TV all the time, but did you know there was a word for it?
The preface in my Roget’s Thesaurus, written by then editor Betty Kirkpatrick, states, ‘The unique value of Roget’s Thesaurus is to help writers or speakers clarify and shape an idea which they wish to convey, and which is difficult to capture or express clearly.’ That statement is heaven to every writer who has ever stared at their screen trying to grasp onto that word they know but can’t quite think of. But no word, no problem! I have my beloved Roget’s as backup. I suggest arming yourself with a Roget’s Thesaurus. You won't regret having this essential word finder in your toolbox.
