Lost Dictionary of Slang Written by Anthony Burgess Discovered

Writer Anthony Burgess is best known for his modern classic novel A Clockwork Orange, which centres around a gang who engages in ultra violence whilst speaking in a Russian-influenced style of slang invented by Burgess called ‘Nadsat’. Burgess was fascinated by slang and, over 50 years ago, began writing a slang dictionary, which was thought lost but has now been rediscovered.

The dictionary lay hidden in an archive of Burgess’ papers, letters, and possessions, held by the International Anthony Burgess Foundation, a charity founded in the writers’ home city of Manchester. The foundations’ archivist, Anna Edwards, told The Guardian: “We’re thrilled to be making such exciting and important discoveries as we’re cataloguing the collection. We found the surviving fragments of the dictionary at the bottom of a large cardboard box, packed underneath some old bedsheets. I suppose the reason for not finding this earlier is that the box seemed to be full of household objects, not literary papers.”

Burgess mentions the dictionary briefly in the second volume of his autobiography but it was thought to have been lost. None of the dictionary has ever been published and Graham Foster, a researcher at the foundation, said of the great discovery: “Burgess … valued language above almost everything else … He was also fascinated by the slang he heard in his school days, his time in the army during the second world war and when he lived in Malaya during the 1950s. Burgess also enjoyed a long friendship with the slang lexicographer Eric Partridge.

“In his novel about Manchester in the 1920s and 1930s, The Pianoplayers, Burgess draws on his extensive knowledge of the slang of the period … In his novel about Shakespeare, Nothing Like the Sun, he draws on his knowledge of Elizabethan slang, and his historical novel Napoleon Symphony uses the slang Burgess heard in the army to create a textured and realistic interplay between the soldiers in Napoleon’s ranks.”

The dictionary was first commissioned by Penguin Books ion 1965, but Burgess found it too difficult a task to complete, saying, “I’ve done A and B and find that a good deal of A and B is out of date or has to be added to, and I could envisage the future as being totally tied up with such a dictionary.”

The dictionary survives as 6×4 slips of paper on which each entry is typed. There are 153, 700 and 33 slips for the letters A, B and Z respectively. Entries include the likes of ‘A fit of the nerves,’ which Burgess notes as referring to an attack of delirium or other emotional crisis, and ‘Abortion’ as anything ugly or generally detestable. slang lexicographer Jonathon Green said, even in its limited state, the dictionary is “fascinating both for his many fans and for specialist lexicographers”.

It seems Burgess had underestimated the amount of work required for such an undertaking. Green devoted 17 years to publishing his own dictionary of slang and explained why it’s tricky to write about. “Slang is a very slippery customer … I get the feeling that Burgess thought it was much easier than it actually is … Smart as he was, with an understanding of linguistics and language, I don’t think he could have allowed himself to do a second-rate [dictionary]. If he didn’t stop everything else, that’s what he would have turned out with,” Green said.

Some entries from Burgess’ dictionary includes:

Abdabs (the screaming) – Fit of nerves, attack of delirium tremens, or other uncontrollable emotional crisis. Perhaps imitative of spasm of the jaw, with short, sharp screams.

Abdicate – In poker, to withdraw from the game, forfeiting all money or chips put in the pot.

Abfab – Obsolescent abbreviation of absolutely fabulous, used by Australian teenagers or ‘bodgies’.

Abortion – Anything ugly, ill-shapen, or generally detestable: ‘You look a right bloody abortion, dressed like that’; ‘a nasty little abortion of a film’ (Australian in origin).

Abyssinia – I’ll be seeing you. A valediction that started during the Italo-Abyssinian war. Obsolete, but so Joyceanly satisfying that it is sometimes hard to resist.