Initially, I misjudged James Lipton’s quirky and curious book, An Exaltation of Larks, missing the playful and fanciful element. When I read that a group of elk is called a gang, I felt only unalloyed disgust. Perhaps among flabby academicians, elk are referred to as gangs. But, I live among muscular mountain men who would laugh in derision at that term. Or fix you with a questioning stare. We sometimes take ourselves too seriously, precious.
This book didn’t grab me until I started from the beginning.
The dedication: For my mother, Betty Lipton, who showed me the way to words. (Swoon. I want my kids to say that some day.)
I loved the Preface best, packed with collectable, copy-worthy quotes.
The heart and soul of this book is the concern that our language, one of our most precious natural resources, is also a dwindling one that deserves at least as much protection as our woodlands, wetlands and whooping cranes.
And this from Elizabeth Drew:
Language is like soil. However rich, it is subject to erosion, and its fertility is constantly threatened by uses that exhaust its vitality. It needs constant re-invigoration if it is not to become arid and sterile. Poetry is one great source of the maintenance and renewal of language.
This is the sort of book that fits well in a bathroom. Read a page, put it down.
Lipton encourages the reader to join a game, coming up with new collective nouns. The groups that tickled my fancy the most were the medical professions (a joint of osteopaths) and music (a pound of pianists, a bridge of lyricists). Not to mention a load of diapers or a twaddle of public speakers.
Some terms are so familiar we don’t see them as collective terms, as in Shakespeare’s a comedy of errors and a sea of troubles (from Hamlet). The book of Hebrews gives us cloud of witnesses. Does that joggle you linguistically like it does me?
The greatest challenge facing me is that of identification. Before I learn the collective terms [murmuration, charm, exaltation, murder, unkindness and dule] I need to learn to distinguish starlings, finches, larks, crows, ravens and doves.
Wonderful words, which word addicts find, well . . . wonderful! Plus, there are some pics of some of my favorite folks! Nice job!
I call a group of girls a giggle of girls.
How nice, that there are such wonderfully clever, creative, whimsical people in the world. Including the author of this post.
Did she just compare poetry to cow poop? I guess that works, given the amount of rumination it takes to make a good poem.
a lovely post Carol! and timely….just recently my dh and i played with some collective nouns;-) – we failed miserably with the bird-collection….
off to share this post with him…
On the night our first grandchild was born, we experienced a Parliament of Owls hooting away in the trees behind the birthing center. We had to go outside to use our cell phones, so we heard their “discussions” and thought perhaps they were welcoming our new little one or it seemed so to us. 😉 love and prayers, jep
Brilliant Carol!
Thanks, Doug!
And on the second photo, I would call it a “solo” of Tollefsons.
I have written an ABC book of collective nouns and am down to an exaltation of larks, I only have one other pic and can’t find where to get rights. May I have permission to use your picture in the book , or buy it royalty free? I will of course acknowledge you and would send you a copy ! Thanks, another lover of words. Becky Taylor
Never mind, just realized those are geese…what is a group oh geese on land?
I didn’t take the photo (I could get you in touch with the photographer, my brother) but it sounds like you are no longer interested.
I think the collective noun for geese on land is simply flock or gaggle. But, don’t quote me!
I was going with gaggle,didn’t want to be wrong. I hope to find larks. Thanks