Reading Harry Potter Will Never Be the Same Again: A Review of the Dictionary of Word Roots and Combining Forms

Completing this book brings me to the end of a cycle of reference books focused entirely on words alone. It’s not surprising to find that the shorter the book, the more I enjoyed reading it. While the dictionary and thesaurus managed the same score in different ways, the Dictionary of Root Words and Combining Forms was its own animal and it shows in the scores.

Rating criteria refresher.

Toolbox Level 1: A-
After that introductory paragraph, this probably looks like a regression. This is the same rating that the dictionary and the thesaurus each earned in this same category. It still feels like a cop-out to hand it out yet again, but it still fits, given the limitations of a book containing mostly fragments. I only counted three errors at the most- two for spelling and one for a word root being placed out of alphabetical order.

Toolbox Level 2: A-
This score is also identical to those of the preceding two books at this level. What I like in this book is that the content of the minority of pages that can be analyzed for style lives up to the purpose the author claims. Donald J. Borror wrote this book to help people. There’s not an ounce of holier-than-thouness in the introduction and no attempt to sell this book as the best of its kind. But there are only 12 pages in the whole book with fully formed sentences to analyze. That didn’t leave me enough room to justify an A here.

Fulfillment of Purpose: A
Unlike the dictionary and thesaurus, I gave this book the highest possible marks here. Where a physical dictionary may no longer be necessary thanks to online tools, I feel this book easily justifies its existence on the shelf of any science-minded individual. It’s compact and far from cumbersome to pick up and search through. Most science terms come out of Latin and Greek, so I can’t knock it for only featuring 141 root words coming from other languages.

My one quibble still arises over one of the closing sections. I think a case could be made for putting the three-page section on formulating words from these roots at the beginning of the book. I can see how that might tempt some eager beavers to try doing so right out of the gate, but that assumes there are enough weirdos like me out there who will read a book such as this from cover to cover. In case there are enough of us odd ducks out there, I can see how the placement of the word formulation guidelines might be warranted.

Reading Experience: B
I didn’t take the same detached approach to reading this book that I adopted with the thesaurus. Perhaps that stems from positive memories from the high school biology class that forced me to buy this book. This book is almost entirely word etymology, which was one of the components I enjoyed the most about the dictionary. Words alone get boring, but some new ones may stick enough to expand your vocabulary. The structure of words, however, is pure knowledge. I won’t retain much of what I read in this book but, over time, I will come back to it when I come across fancy or odd words. That opens the door to lifelong learning. The more I read, the more I’ll turn to this book, and the more parts of it will stick in my memory.

That’s not to say that I read this entire book with equal fervor. I didn’t. Some pages were plenty boring, and this book did very little to improve my lack of interest in words of Latin and Greek origin. They monopolize the market, and overexposure and over-saturation gets boring.

The last portion of the book was also a nice refresher. After nothing but alphabetical root words, the closing section groups common combining forms together in familiar categories like colors, shapes, numbers, and body parts. I very much enjoyed seeing these clusters because it gave the book a meaningful closing. I can’t explain it much more beyond that it just felt good to finish things out that way.

Overall Score: 3.5835 out of 4 (solid B+)
This is a terrific little book. I don’t recommend reading it cover to cover like I did, but it’s a great reference if you’re curious about how certain words are built and what their components mean. It can’t replace a full dictionary but this one ages better. I learned and retained more from this book than either the dictionary or the thesaurus. As the title of this review suggests, however, I plan on pulling this bad boy out when I get to my wife’s Harry Potter books. If nothing else, it will be fun to see if J.K. Rowling actually pieced together her curses and spells correctly or if she just made stuff up on the fly.

READING UPDATE: Word Roots and Combining Forms- Part 2- Mad – Some Common Combining Forms

February started out as a very poor month for reading. So much seemed to be going on. When I did have free time, I found myself falling asleep on the couch in the evenings, worn out from whatever taxed me during the day. I started worrying at one point that my three-month goal for reading this book would fail.

Somewhere not long after Valentine’s Day, however, a switch flipped. I tore into this book, making huge dents on the weekend. At first I was just glad to catch up to January’s pace. Then I started wondering if I might actually finish the darn thing a month early. That is exactly what happened.

After finishing the dictionary component of this book, I hit a handy guide for creating words from these roots and the rules that scientists tend to follow. That was interesting to read through, and I thought it might have been better for that to come at the beginning of the book. I’m on the fence on that issue, because I can see it working both before and after the portion that fulfills its purpose.

Despite reading at a faster pace, I still came up with a number of intriguing finds:

Narc- We’ve all seen this root before but I never bothered to look up what narcotic meant. Narc means numbness or stupor and tic means relation or belonging to. Put them together and it makes sense.

Obnoxi- While the word that comes immediately to mind now means annoying, its root is far more serious. This Latin nugget means hazardous or liable. That makes sense, considering the root word is itself composed of two roots- ob, meaning reversed or against, and noxi, meaning harmful.

Presby / Presbyt- This root is known mostly for its association with a Protestant denomination. It means old or an old person. This Greek term follows a logical path to become the name of a body of believers. The Presbyterian church is led by elders. While an elder isn’t always an old person now, they probably were back in the day.

Pristin- When you see a pristine landscape or a pristine room, you probably don’t mean old-fashioned or primitive. But that’s what this Latin root means. The word pristine comes from a Latin word, pristinus, which draws on this root word but meant former. See how we got there? Old-fashioned, leads to describing something as if it existed in a former state, which leads to our current definition.

Sceptic / Skeptic- In today’s understanding, this word has a negative tone. But rather than doubtful, the original meaning of the root means reflective or observant. So if someone calls you a skeptic, you can thank them for the compliment and leave them puzzled.

Stimul- Latin words gave me fits while reading the dictionary. Should I be surprised that they gave me fits here as well? I often questioned how Merriam-Webster determined that seemingly unrelated Latin words somehow formed the basis of words that look nothing like it. Here, I’m left to wonder how this root, meaning to goad, shifted over the centuries to its current meaning. I can see how it made the journey. It’s not a big stretch, but the connotations are so different.

Thesaur- Having read the thesaurus, I got a good laugh out of its root word. Perhaps Roget thought a little too highly of his creation, because thesaurus means gift or treasure. The thesaurus was a more enjoyable read than the dictionary, but I wouldn’t call it a gift. Then again, gift means poison in German, so maybe it is appropriate?

Torrid- This root caught my eye because I’ve seen a store by the same name in the mall. The only reason I can come up with for why they named a plus-size women’s clothing company something meaning dried up or parched, is that Torrid is a sister company to Hot Topic. Otherwise, I’m not sure it was a wise choice.

Vaccin- A cool story goes along with this one. The Latin root means of a cow. How did something as common as a shot get named after cows? A physician and scientist named Edward Jenner noticed that milkmaids who contracted cowpox did not contract the smallpox virus. He correctly surmised that exposure to cowpox, a milder form of smallpox, made these dairy workers immune to the more aggressive human form of the virus. The scientific name of cowpox is Variolae vaccinae. Later scientists advocated for calling all inoculations be called vaccines in honor of Jenner’s work.

Non-Greek/Latin Word Roots So Far: 141

Page Count: 142/142 (100.00%)

READING UPDATE: Word Roots and Combining Forms- Part 1: Preface – Macula

January was a good reading month. My methodical approach to reading this book definitely slows down the momentum but it’s been a worthwhile exercise. I’m starting to get the itch to read books that don’t fall under the reference genre but not rushing things along is a welcome break from the pace of the rest of my life at the moment.

I decided to track the number of word roots coming from sources other than Greek and Latin. To be more specific, I’m lumping Low Latin, Middle Latin and New Latin together with Latin. New Latin may be the one source that you could argue against me ignoring for my tally but it’s all Latin to me and I grew bored with Latin while reading the dictionary. I’m also not counting anything that comes from Greek or Latin mythology or Greek and Latin formal names.

The number of non-Greek and non-Latin word roots surprised me a little but not very many of them stood out in ways beyond just being not Greek or Latin. I did come up with a few notable word roots to share with you, so let’s get to it.

Aedoe & Aidoi- Both of these roots come from Greek and both of them mean either to regard with reverence or the genitals. Either the Greeks were a bunch of perverts or they regarded their genitals with great reverence. I’d love to know how this split-meaning came to light.

Aig & Aix- Another split-meaning root. Once again, both come from Greek. They can mean either a goat or waterfowl. I’m not always the most observant person alive, but I’m pretty sure that I’ve never gotten goats and waterfowl mixed up in my head before. How on earth did the Greeks settle on leaving these two animals under the same word root? Maybe the Greeks were lazy perverts.

Alkali- This was the first non-G/L word that got my attention. As a lover of science, I’m familiar with the word root and some of the words that come from it. I did not know it was of Arabic origin. I checked back through my dictionary write-ups to see if it stood out to me all those years ago but it must not have registered then.

Arch- Depending on which vowel or consonant structure you follow this Greek root with, it could have four different meanings. Two meanings, ancient and first/beginning, go hand in hand and make sense. The other two? Not so much. Arch- can be the start of something that means chief/principal/superior/ruler or it can be the start of something that means the rectum or anus. A word root that puts rulers and rectums under the same umbrella? Perhaps the Greeks were lazy perverts with a sense of humor.

Candidat- My root words dictionary made this term and its meaning a little misleading. It’s Latin and means clothed in white. It’s easy to assume that this is some kind of reference to purity but you know what happens when you assume. Rather than suggesting that those running for office are pure in heart or conviction, this root word comes from the fact that candidates in ancient Rome wore white togas. This probably helped them stand out from the rest of the populace, inviting questions.

Corolla- Ever wonder what the Toyota model’s name means? It means a little crown or wreath. They’re not the biggest cars, so a diminutive crown be what they were going for. If they wanted to name a car after a wreath, then I’ve got nothing to say about that.

Echel- A French word root meaning ladder. That makes sense when you think of the term echelon.

Galax- This Greek word root means milky. It makes sense that the ancient Greeks, lacking anything close to the light pollution we have today, would think that the portion of our home here in the universe that’s visible in the night sky resembles milk. But does that mean that the phrase Milky Way Galaxy is redundant?

Galen- Yet another Greek root word. It should come as no surprise why I was drawn to this one. It means calm or restful. It can also mean lead ore, so consider this one another baffling split-meaning term. For the record, I consider myself more similar to calm and rest than lead ore.


Non-Greek/Latin Word Roots So Far: 67
Page Count: 61/142 (42.96%)