I had made it approximately four chapters in, before I found myself stymied. Now this one, I know, I thought to myself, puzzling over the text, but I don't know if I really know it. Was it worth knowing something halfway, and moving on... or satisfying my curiosity, and getting into the specifics?
Curiosity won out, and I put aside the book, to quickly Google what, exactly, "moiety" meant again.
According to the search engine's first entry, a "moiety" is a noun, expressing a part or portion of a larger whole, and more specifically, the lesser share or value. Jane, unfortunately, was being robbed of the greater amount of her already meager portions of Lowood School's daily provisions, set upon by older students more used to Brocklehurst's stingy treatments, and being left with only a fraction.
Had I known this, in a general sense? Yes. I mean, from context clues, you could probably have divined yourself a course towards the idea that only receiving a "moiety" was something bad. Could it have meant "crumbs," or "remains," or something similarly communicating the paltriness of the meal? Yes. But it wouldn't be the same.
One of the fun parts of learning new vocabulary, is the ability to get specific.
acrimony (noun) - bitterness, resentment, scorn, or other form of persistent ill-feeling between parties.
ameliorate (verb) - to remedy a situation or circumstance; to make something bad, better.
antipodes (noun) - referring to something's expressed or polar opposite. Because this book was written in England, the phrase was colloquially used to refer to allied places in the Southern Hemisphere, specifically Australia and New Zealand, as "The Antipodes."
beldam (noun) - an old woman; in particular, an ugly, angry, or malicious one, like a witch. In an archaic sense, it originated with the French term of "belle dame" - or "beautiful woman" - but nowadays, it's mainly a reference to the true name of the Other Mother in Neil Gaiman's Coraline.
cicatrize (verb) - in reference to a wound, the process of healing by way of scar formation.
condole (verb) - to grieve along with someone, or to express sympathy in a more personal way. Like "console," which is confusing because it's only one letter off, but to be fair, it's the root word we get "condolences" from.
contumacy (noun) - the rejection or refusal of instructions; stubbornly resisting or disobeying authority, especially in the legal sense, like a court order or summons. Later on in the book I also ended up Googling "contumelious," which shares the same root, and refers to someone who is insolent, scornful or insulting.
So, in case you couldn't divine from the title of the blogpost: here is a list of every single word I had to search up while reading Charlotte Bronte's Gothic classic, Jane Eyre, about a month back in January. It truly, honestly, wasn't meant to be a list that was shared - and certainly not a blogpost - but the more comfortable I got with admitting personal defeat, and turning to the search engine, the more I began to like the idea of publishing this kind of an open rundown when it was all over.
Why? Why not! Learning new vocabulary is a great time. It's as important a life skill as learning how to shuffle playing cards or perfecting your back handspring: it's fun to be able to trot this kind of impressive display out at parties.
Chances are, you can think of at least one time in your life that you were having a conversation with someone, and they whipped out the kind of crossword-stumping diction that could make the clouds rain Scrabble tiles. Or maybe, you were having a hard time describing a feeling or situation that felt particular to you, and you experienced that eureka moment when you knew you had just the perfect, specific word to say. It's powerful stuff.
The thing is, I think most of anyone's persistent negative feelings about looking up vocab are really just remnants of the days where such things could only be accomplished with a hefty dictionary in hand. However, thanks to the easy access of the Internet - and those rectangular space-age devices emitting radioactive waves in our pockets - those tomes are now used to press flowers, or are gaining dust on your very-impressive looking bookshelves. In 2023, you can look up any word, at any time... and depending on how easily your voice command function is able to interpret your speaking patterns, you really don't have to push that many buttons to do it.
You can do it while out at coffee with a friend, frantically tapping your screen under the table to figure out that new slang term you've never heard before. You could be sitting in your parked car, checking out a "Word a Day" app on your phone while picking your kid up from dance class. You could be lying down, using your arm as a temporary bookmark because you accidentally dropped your phone into that awkward crack between your bed and the wall again and you really need to know what the heck "rive" means (It's a verb, basically meaning "to rip apart violently," or to rend or tear or split or crack or break. Lots of options).
Learning new vocab is more accessible now than it has ever been before.
dross (noun) - something typically regarded as garbage, worthless, or something that should be thrown away. Specifically, this refers to the scum that forms a floating byproduct on the surface of molten metal, which is fun.
etiolated (adjective) - having lost vigor or vitality; something withered and pale. I think it's specifically supposed to be about plants that haven't gotten a ton of sunlight, but it just makes me think of Hercules at the end of the Disney movie when he's floating around in the big pit of ghosts.
halcyon (adjective) - referring to an idyllic or perfect time of the past, referencing a period of prosperity or peace.
inexorable (adjective) - the quality of being unstoppable or impossible to prevent. If a person is being inexorable, they will stubbornly refuse to acquiesce to requests or prompting; if a large train is being inexorable, I recommend you run out of the way very fast.
meretricious (adjective) - having the appearance of beauty or attractive qualities, but ultimately, having no value or integrity beyond it. In the archaic sense, it was specifically relating to or characteristic of a prostitute; in a more contemporary angle, it can refer to anything from airport souvenirs to those kinds of expensive desserts you see at cafes that all end up burning the back of your throat with too much sugar.
mien (noun) - a person's general aspect or manner, especially appearance, giving more indication towards their character, mood, or behavior.
palliate (verb) - to ease or alleviate the symptoms of something severe or detrimental, but without really relieving the cause. To soothe or moderate, or even disguise the impact of something, like how you can only take so many doses of ibuprofen before you decide you probably should just go see a doctor.
Maybe it's those "options" - the fact that definitions themselves prove that you can actually use a great many other words you already know, rather than bothering to learn a whole new one - that make us feel like picking up vocab is something best relegated to the teenage, school-shackled set. But the thing is, approximate knowledge is good and all, but specific knowledge holds its own separate kind of power.
I remember a particularly frustrating conversation, when I was much younger, where I was recounting a story to friends about time spent wandering a shopping center with my family. I explained that I had been "meandering through the aisles," when I was stopped by a sudden fit of laughter. "Meandering?" they said. "Why not just say walking, if that's what you mean?" I'm sure that at the time they thought that I was just trying to flex, but the reality was, I didn't say walking, because I didn't MEAN walking. I MEANT meandering.
Walking could be anything, but meandering means a lazy, non-directional kind of wandering, like the kind you do at a shopping center. It connotes a sunny afternoon on vacation with my family, far better than just "walking" ever could. I was being specific, not deliberately pretentious, and whether or not my friends got the message, I was delivering it as clearly as I could.
This story is something that floats to the top of my brain whenever I think about storytelling, and especially how much I hate certain authors who applaud themselves over their own rudimentary diction styles (*cough* Hemingway *cough*). Yes, there is absolutely argument to be made over accessible and straight-forward language... I was an English major, after all, and I hate reading particularly egregious academic articles as much as the next person. At the same time, there is also joy in the deliberation of a perfectly-chosen word, and the excitement that comes when we're given the opportunity to learn something new.
Words aren't "one size fits all." Sometimes, it pays to get particular.
paroxysm (noun) - a sudden attack or expression of a particular emotion or activity; an active demonstration of a feeling or impulse. Like if you suffered a paroxysm of weeping at a particularly moving Super Bowl commercial, or a paroxysm of laughter at a particularly funny Super Bowl commercial.
piquant (adjective) - a distinctive pleasantly sharp taste or flavor... think aged white cheddar, peppery radishes, or pickled red onions. In more general terms, it can also mean something is pleasantly stimulating or exciting to experience.
privation (noun) - a scarcity or lack of the sorts of things necessary for human survival or well-being, like shelter, food, or heat. Could also more generally refer to a quality or attribute of something that is normally true or present, but is now lacking.
prurience (noun) - a strong interest in sexual matters, not necessarily just like in being lascivious or horny, but also like being a little too improper or snoopy in conversations; specifically expressing an interest in someone else's sexual behavior.
repletion (noun) - eating until you're stuffed, beyond simple satisfaction. Can also refer to the condition of a location being filled up, or overcrowded, like a packed bar, or scribbles over the boundaries of a sheet of paper.
But a specificity in word choice, also means having the conversational clout to back it up. It's a particular solecism - (noun) a slip-up in either expression or behavior; can refer to both a mistake in written or spoken language, as well as a breach in etiquette, or incorrect and awkward behavior - of the well-read individual, that chances are, we've attempted a word in real life that we'd only ever encountered on the page, to disastrous effect.
I've had my tongue fixed firmly in my mouth for nearly thirty years now, but if that word in my brain only just got there yesterday, chances are that the two are going to tangle a little bit.
Excellent news: Googling a word brings up not only the definition, but oftentimes, a little button right beside it that allows you to hear how the word is accurately spoken. Will I persist in pronouncing "mien" as a two-syllable word? Maybe. But I've heard how it's supposed to be said enough times that it's pretty solely my own fault in getting it wrong. I'll do my penance for the error by puzzling over how the word "halcyon" doesn't have a hard K sound in the middle of it, when I swear I've heard it that way before.
The point is, when you learn a new word, it's important to look up how to say it. And then, use it in a sentence a couple of times to make sure you've got the whole operation down right.
Using an SAT word in conversation makes you sound smart... but using an SAT word incorrectly in conversation makes it look like you're trying to sound smart, which is the kind of social offense that has nothing to do with actually wanting to learn new words.
sagacity (noun) - the quality of being sagacious; wise, insightful, or astute in observation.
salubrious (adjective) - for something to be beneficial, healthy, or pleasant, especially in comparison to conditions that were not that beforehand.
sardonic (adjective) - sarcastic, grimly mocking, satirical, or cynical. When someone makes fun of you in a way that's meant to make you feel bad. I think this word was used to describe Mr. Edward Rochester upwards of ten times.
syncope (noun) - fainting, or having a sudden loss of consciousness.
torpid (adjective) - mentally or physically inactive, very sleepy or lazy, like the Lethargarians who live in the Doldrums in the Land Beyond the Tollbooth. Sometimes we are torpid because we are a hibernating bear, and sometimes we are torpid because we ate too much turkey at Thanksgiving.
vicinage (noun) - another term for general area or location, like its other version, "vicinity."
So, to recap: learning new words is fun, and super easy to do. It helps you impress your friends, and get specific about what you're trying to say. And as long as you remember to be deliberate about the ways you transition your newfound knowledge off the page and into conversations, it can be a really fun avenue for building a little more excitement into your diction on a regular basis.
And just in case you haven't read Jane Eyre before... I highly recommend it. There's, like, a ton of fun words in there to play with. It's also a really great activity to undertake with friends, but furthermore, it's also cool to do on your own, at your own pace. The descriptions are all really pretty, and pretty much everyone in here is bonkers. It's a good time, and you should try it.
It strikes me only just now that there is entirely the chance that someone doing an assignment on Jane Eyre for a high school English class might just stumble across this blogpost. After all, having to collect an assortment of vocabulary terms for a book report was exactly the sort of thing that I had to do while I was in school. In case you are a scholar, hello and welcome!
Instead of just copy-pasting my words, why don't you take a different track instead: pass the link on to your teacher, or something. Maybe that way, you get a replacement activity that allows you to engage more with the material, instead... or a the very least, your instructor now views you as the kind of helpful, engaged person who can be trusted with the burden of an A. Maybe even an A+. Best of luck!
And for the rest of us lifelong learners - the people who look for something new in every day, or at the very least, every other book - I hope you've taken away something just as valuable as a letter grade from this post, too.
As a personal challenge, I think you should pick one of your favorites and use it in conversation today.
(Just don't forget to search up the pronunciation, first.)
Did you find a new favorite word on this list? Have you attempted Jane Eyre before? Let me know, in the comments below!
