Verity Laughton’s play, The Dictionary of Lost Words, feels like watching a tiny world come to life in between the gossamer pages of an old book. This masterful adaptation of Pip William’s’ 2020 bestseller transforms the story of the headstrong young Esme Nicoll into a mesmerising visual spectacle, depicting her remarkable protest against 19th-century England’s patriarchy as she helps to compile the first Oxford English Dictionary (OED).
Upon entering the theatre, I was enchanted by the feeling of being transported to the veiled, lamp-lit lanes of Victorian England — until I remembered that I was a woman. Jonathon Oxlade’s set design was impressive and evocative: consisting of a bespangled array of antique tables, armchairs, and lamps, we find ourselves in the Murray Scriptorium, the historic birthplace of the OED. Ornate as it may sound, the “Scrippy” was only a small workroom behind the renowned lexicographer James Murray’s home. Yes, the English dictionary was born in a garden shed.
Yet beneath Oxford’s edifice of old-world charm, Laughton reminds us of the violence implicit within this historical moment. Women at Oxford University were only able to obtain equal degrees with men after 1920 — nearly forty years later than women at Sydney University were granted the same opportunity. Patriarchal and class-based expectations not only influence the characters’ prospects and experiences, but also the words they use to describe them: “The first edition of the Oxford English Dictionary was biased in favour of the experiences and sensibilities of men,” Pip Williams says. “Older, white, Victorian-era men at that”. The result is linguistic inequality: leaving women and other marginalised groups isolated from society and from one another as the language describing their experiences is deemed unimportant, improper, or taboo.
The cast faithfully portray Williams’ characters clutching at glimmers of permanence despite society’s attempts to erase them. Shannen Alyce Quan plays the vivacious Esme, whose childish venture to save words consigned to the Scrippy’s fireplace turns into the radical project of building a new dictionary for those whom dominant lexicons have failed. Ksenja Logos gracefully portrays Edith “Dittie” Thompson — one of the play’s true historical figures, and a prolific contributor and editor of the early OED. Particularly memorable was Angela Nicas Sullen’s performance of Tilda Taylor, a vivacious, whisky-drinking suffragette who sets fire to racecourses in dresses like wedding cakes. The cast’s vitality kept the show moving despite its run time of nearly three hours, ultimately ensuring it did justice to the complex humanity of the characters and relationships portrayed in Williams’ novel.
This was my second time watching The Dictionary of Lost Words (it was also performed earlier this year at Walsh Bay’s Roslyn Packer Theatre), and I enjoyed it every bit as much as I did the first time. Laughton reminds that words can be weapons as well as treasures, treasures which give name to our experiences and affirm their significance. If you’re intrigued by narratives set in the “in-betweens” of history and language, or are an aspiring lexicographer or rebel bibliophile yourself, Laughton’s adaptation is a must-see.
After touring nationally in Sydney, Geelong, Adelaide, Brisbane and Canberra, The Dictionary of Lost Words will wrap up its return season at the Illawarra Performing Arts Centre, Wollongong, on 7th June 2025. Further information can be found here.
