The Best of an Almanac of Words at Play

If so, you've found the perfect gift. By chance, I read WORDS AT PLAY right after having seen the crossword puzzle documentary Wordplay. For anyone who enjoys the process of shifting, goofing, and jumbling with words, only to appreciate them again in a new light, this is a terrific volume by Oysterville native Willard Espy. (You know where Oysterville is, right?)

Often learning literary terms and how to use them can be a challenge. This book makes learning the terms both amusing and enjoyable. With a small selection to read each day of the year this book allows for easy learning everyday of the year. Espy's creative set up of the book covers everything from Acronyms to Univocalic writing. Each day with a differently constructed style and purpose this book is excellent for most age levels and can be read at any pace though it is meant to last an entire year.

I have collected each of Espy's books as they have appeared; they occupy center place on my shelves of language books. The original "Almanac" and "Another Almanac" blew me away when they came out about 20+ years ago. I tried so hard to limit myself to one page a day so they would each last a year - they are almanacs, after all - but failed miserably - I remember sitting in bed with the flu and reading through both books in three days, giggling and chortling and slack-jawed with amazement the whole time. Willard Espy is a true master - creative, erudite, knowledgeable, and howlingly funny. His Higgledy-Piddledy about Dorothy Thompson is burned into my brain for good. His ability to make the language dance is unequaled by any other writer I have read. Safire, Lederer, and Newman are articulate, yes, but not half as goofily inventive or funny, and they take themselves very much more seriously than Espy does, which is not at all. This man disproves the adage that no one is great all the time - he is. Having said all that, I must confess that I haven't seen this Compilation - my comments are based on the absolute conviction that any compilation of brilliant material must, of necessity, be equally brilliant. I have spent the past 20 years lending out my copies of the two originals from which this volume is drawn, listening to people giggle over the cubicle walls, and plotting diabolical conseqences when they weren't returned. They are both ragged and bulging with yellow stickies - my own quick-reference system - so I can easily find and re-delight in my favorites when I need an Espyfix. The man is gone from our midst now, so there will be no more crazy pleasure from him, and his original books are long out of print. So buy this one, I say, and prepare to laugh and be awed all at once by this explosion of sheer linquistic virtuosity.