Capture synonym
(affectivity softheartedness tenderness tenderheartedness softness perceptiveness sensitivity sensibility sensitiveness), (air aura atmosphere flavor flavour) (interest), (interesting), (interest), (not be indifferent to interest) (tempt chat up pick up make a pass at seduce), (seductiveness attractiveness fascination appeal pull lure attraction desirability allure allurement temptingness) (fr) įantasy dreamboat phantasy pipe dream Être d'une fréquentation agréable à qqn (fr) įaire naître un sentiment, un état affectif (fr) The Portrait Is Finished and I Have Failed to Capture Your Beauty.Carbon capture and storage in Australia.Bio-energy with carbon capture and storage.Automatic identification and data capture.Lynne Truss is the author of “Eats, Shoots & Leaves” and “Talk to the Hand,” as well as the Constable Twitten mystery novels. Worser is very young to have built so many, and the demolition is painful, but when he finally starts using ordinary human words in simple sentences (instead of “I’ve decided you may have a point about my needing new garments”), we dare to hope he has a chance.
It is always cathartic to see a person’s wall come down. Will Worser ever realize that his mother just needs a hug? Will he come to understand that their former word-centered relationship was pretty poor parenting in any case, being a symptom of her colossal grief over the death of her husband? Many people are kind to Worser, notably a gruff bookshop owner not entirely suited to his profession: “Do I look like a card catalog?” But above them all floats the underappreciated Aunt Iris, whose cats do seem quite the imposition but whose sincerity is never in doubt. There are several peripheral characters to enjoy as well, my own favorite being Worser’s affable school friend Herbie, an original thinker whose every throwaway remark (such as “Your aunt is a good person”) made me write an affectionate “Oh, Herbie!” in the margin. Since the stroke, he has been left to play word games on his own.įunny, clever and compassionate, Jennifer Ziegler’s “Worser” is a brilliantly constructed account of a journey to self-knowledge. It transpires that after the death of his father, Worser and his mother bonded mainly through sophisticated wordplay, and laughter at “incongruous” sentences in college papers she was grading. Just meaningless syllables that her horrified and frightened son can’t, or won’t, interpret. Formerly a professor of rhetoric, she now has zero words at her disposal.
The background to this obsessive junior logophilia is that at home a catastrophe has occurred: Worser’s mother has had a stroke. He enjoys correcting authority figures who say “flaunt” when they mean “flout.” He’s so insufferably priggish that at school his name, William Orser, has by common consent been elided to the nonexistent word “Worser,” just to drive him crazy. He’s the sort of kid who is never uncharacteristically facetious, for the guessable reason that he is facetious all the time. “On a day when I was feeling uncharacteristically facetious.” The entry to which he refers is from his “Masterwork,” a personal lexicon, begun when he was 9, that includes unusually themed lists of words - words that, say, are made up entirely of state abbreviations ( ga-in, me-mo-ri-al), or are “false antonyms” (such as descent, which, if you think of it as de-scent, ought to be a synonym for deodorize).
“I should mention that I wrote this entry when I was much younger,” he says. A 12-year-old boy solemnly explains a piece of writing he has just read aloud at a meeting of his middle school Lit Club.