Folk defining in monolingual English learners’ dictionaries

The Cambridge WHL
is probably intended for a scholarly readership (of 
lexicographers and, otherwise, linguists), this book is well within reach for various types of 
readers, including those interested in historical linguistics and language documentation. 
Although each collaborating author conveys their very own style and unique perspectives, 
careful editing is found in that the structure and general guidelines do not seem to differ greatly 
across chapters. Also, the editor seems to have gone the extra mile in ensuring that all necessary 
cross-chapter references are present. As mentioned in the Introduction section, this allows for 
great flexibility when it comes to the reading of the volume, which can be approached from 
either a traditional handbook perspective (e.g. by limiting consultation to the specific chapters 
of interest) or, alternatively, one that involves the reading of the whole piece, from start to 
finish. On the one hand, in a work of such proportions, suggestions regarding the structuring of 
chapters may be made; on the other hand, however, these would probably undermine the very 
flexibility of the volume. For instance, it might be appropriate to consider the grouping of all 
geographically-related chapters (e.g. Ch. 3, ‘Ancient China’; Ch. 6, ‘China, c. 600–c. 1700’; 
Ch. 15, ‘China from c. 1700’; Ch. 29, ‘Missionary Traditions in East Asia’). However, this 
decision would come at the cost of somehow encouraging a partial reading of the volume, as is 
the case for most traditional handbooks in linguistics. Thus, a useful recommendation for the 
reader would be to carefully check the Table of Contents and, based on this, decide their own 
reading path or approach to 
The Cambridge WHL
.
With more specific remarks having been included in Section 2, there is little left to critique 
regarding representativeness across chapters. A remarkable exception is found in the case of 
Romance languages, which in subsequent editions might benefit from expansion. Due to space 
constraints, it might be thought of as naïve and impractical to consider one chapter for each of 
these languages. Still, language groups may instead be considered (e.g. Gallo-Romance, Ibero-
Romance) or, at the very least, I would suggest weighing the possibility of including two 
separate chapters—one for Western Romance and one for Eastern Romance. Likewise, based 
on the praiseworthy comprehensive spirit of the volume itself, I would strongly suggest 
avoiding the use of the potentially misleading label ‘other Romance languages.’ For instance, 
Catalan would be a key language within the Romance scene, and also one which relies on a 
strong lexicographical tradition (e.g. Colon & Soberanas (1986), which would provide a strong 
starting point in approaching the history of Catalan lexicography in and of itself).
9
Along these 
lines, the volume might also benefit from dedicating at least one chapter to language isolates 
such as Basque.
10
Notes 
1
Deokar mentions that some scholars (e.g. Katre 1989–1991) defend that this appendix was added at a 
later time. 
2
Pali is likely a group of languages rather than a language proper (Strandberg 1989–1991: 2498). 
3
According to Ferri, ‘the founding father of ancient lexicography must have been the late third-
century Aristophanes of Byzantium’ (p. 87).
4
Regarding language varieties, Ferri underscores the fact that ‘Greek lexicographical works were 
driven by an Atticist bias’ (p. 96). 
5
The differentiation between ‘standard English’ (Ch. 23) and ‘regional varieties of English’ (Ch. 24) 
is an enlightening one, since it sheds indirect light on the ‘prescriptivism vs. descriptivism’ dichotomy. 
Many of these ideas might equally apply to languages which rely on a lesser-documented 
lexicographical tradition. 

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11 
6
In connection with the highly informative Ch. 25 (‘The Romance Languages from c. 1700,’ by 
Pascale Renders), I would humbly suggest adding a section dedicated to the Catalan language, which 
has a long-lived rich lexicographical tradition of its own.
7
It may well be that the term 
missionary traditions
, which is common to most titles in Part IV, has 
been deliberately chosen to emphasise the idea that missionaries were the ones responsible for 
introducing European lexicographical practices in the Americas, Africa, Australia, and certain Asian 
territories. However, this may also demonstrate an attempt to avoid a controversial or negatively 
connotated term like 
colonisation
. While both approaches are perfectly understandable, I believe that 
the readership of future editions might benefit from some terminological clarification in this respect. 
8
In connection with Mesoamerica, Zwartjes provides an insightful instance of how the missionaries’ 
dictionaries could build on their previous European counterparts: ‘Missionary lexicographers often 
expanded an entry from Nebrija, adapting it to the New World context. Nebrija’s entry 
altar donde 
sacrifican
(«altar where they sacrifice») became two entries in Alvarado’s Mixtec dictionary, a 
Christian altar being 
chiyo
(originally «foundation») and a pagan one being 
tayu quacu
or 
tayu dzana
. 
In Córdova’s Zapotec dictionary, a Christian altar became 
pecógoláya nitaca missa
(«throne where 
Mass is held»)’ (p. 595). 
9
Other relevant works in the field of Catalan lexicography might be Solà (1992), Rico & Solà (1995), 
and Cabré (1994). 
10
Some relevant publications in the area of Basque studies might be Azkarate & Lindemann (2018), 
Hualde & Zuazo (2007), Sarasola (2003), Sarasola et al. (2008), or Zuazo (2013). 
References