13 May 2011
OK: The Improbable Story of America’s Greatest Word
by Allan Metcalf
Oxford University Press, 2010, US$18.95
Writing a book on a single word would seem to be daunting. Having long experience writing about words, etymology, and language, I can attest that while many words are interesting, few are interesting enough to sustain a full book. Until a month ago I wouldn’t have thought that OK, or okay, was on that short list. Don’t get me wrong; OK is a linguistically complex word with a rich history, but I just didn’t think there was more than a chapter or two to say about it. But Allan Metcalf has proven me wrong and shown that there is more to the word than I had thought.
The value of Metcalf’s OK: The Improbable Story of America’s Greatest Word is chiefly in its bringing together in one volume just about everything there is to say about the word. There is little that is new or groundbreaking in the book, which is mainly a recapitulation of existing scholarship. But a solid and thorough recapitulation it is, and the material will be new to many readers. Metcalf thoroughly reviews the origins of the word, recaps the most prominent uses of it, and debunks many of the myths surrounding it. In what I think is the best chapter, Metcalf undertakes a review of literary uses of the word, showing how OK slowly insinuated its way into literary writing, gaining respectability while never losing its slang sensibility, a topic that I have never seen so thoroughly addressed. The book is informative and entertaining; it never drags; and best of all, the book is just chock-full of information. There truly is enough here to sustain many chapters.
But Metcalf’s book is not perfect. What follows is not meant to discourage would-be readers, but as advice to those who would write similar books.
The biggest flaw is a lack of reference citations. Metcalf justifies this by saying that most research can be conducted online and given the transitory nature of URLs, it makes little sense to include them. Google will suffice. The problem is that these premises are not true. Finding specific sources using Google is notoriously difficult, after all Google is designed to put you in contact with the nearest store that sells a parka or sites that share your political philosophy, not to find quotations in nineteenth-century newspapers. Many of the sources that Metcalf cites are only available in proprietary databases, and knowing what databases the sources are contained in is essential in following up on Metcalf’s claims. For example, on page 15 Metcalf cites letters from Josephine Earp to her famed husband Wyatt and from John Dillinger. Where are these letters to be found? In what library? In what collection? Furthermore, Metcalf frequently omits specific dates for newspaper quotes, giving only month and year. Finding a citation from a hundred-year-old newspaper without knowing the exact date is nearly impossible—and knowing the page and column number is also essential in doing it quickly. Yes, URLs are transitory. But I’m not calling for a URL, only for sufficient information for readers to find the original. Reference citations are not optional in a work like this.
Another issue is how Metcalf treats hypothetical and false information. He clearly labels such information, but in writing for a popular audience that is not enough. Readers need to be beaten over the head with the fact that what is about to be said is not true, lest they repeat it as fact. Readers have a disturbing tendency to take anything they see in print as gospel, even if it is clearly labeled as not so.
In writing about the long history of associating OK with various US presidents, Metcalf concludes with the statement, “either in all seriousness or in conscious good humor, [Zachary Taylor] may have marked OK on documents” (73). The problem is there is zero evidence for this. Of course, he may have, but as far as we know he did not. Ending the chapter on this note runs the risk of misleading readers.
But the worst and most irresponsible hypothetical in the book is on page 3, where Metcalf gives invented lyrics for the 1922 hit song “Yes, We Have No Bananas.” (Metcalf also fails to give the date of the song, so many readers will not even know what era he is writing about.) In Metcalf’s “alternate universe,” the song is emended to “OK, We Have No Bananas.” First, there are enough great OK citations without having to go out and invent them. Second, Metcalf presents the emended lyrics in exactly the same typeface and format as all the legitimate citations in the book; readers can easily mistake this for a real citation. And it is prominently placed at the beginning of the book. Finally, the song, while it once was enormously popular, is almost ninety years old and few readers will be able to recall the song and recognize that these are not the actual lyrics. (The only reason I know the song is that my grandfather ran his car into a New York City fruit cart in the 1920s, when the song was at the top of the charts, and by the time I came along forty years later his friends were still teasing him about it by singing the song to him.)
OK: The Improbable Story of America’s Greatest Word is an excellent, well-researched monograph on OK for the non-scholar. Word lovers will enjoy the book.
(Disclaimer: I received a review copy of this book. Also OUP is the publisher of my own book, Word Myths: Debunking Linguistic Urban Legends.)
