The Jack Vance Treasury

I  have a history of liking Jack Vance's work, but thinking it's not particularly accessible to everyone. The collection of the three "Alastor" novellas in one volume, which I read back in December of 2004, having brought it down to California along with other books while visiting relatives, left me more affected than all but a handful of other books I've read. Would other readers generally find it as impressive? I don't know. I will say, and I'm sure it's been said many times before, that Jack Vance's influence is both vast and deep, and that's just the portion of which I am personally aware.

I think this will not be the last time I write something about Jack Vance. The man is still alive (although he is apparently retired from writing) and I'll definitely be reading more of his stories. So I suppose I'll gush about Jack Vance some other time. As for this particular collection, I am, on the whole, impressed. There were two stories I'd read in the past: "The Gift of Gab" in the Chateau d'If  and Other Stories collection and "The Bagful of Dreams" in Cugel's Saga. Both were welcome re-reads. My personal favorite,  a story I'd never heard of before, was "The Moon Moth." For someone that isn't already an avid fan of Jack Vance, this volume is probably the best introduction to him out there. It has a diverse selection, afterwords for every story, and is pretty big. I'm not sure exactly why, but I don't think I'd appreciate some of these stories quite as much as I do if I'd read them strictly by themselves. Jack Vance wrote a lot of short fiction, but I prefer him in bigger portions.

I mentioned inaccessibility. When I read Jack Vance, I try to keep a dictionary nearby. As I tend to do a lot of my reading on trains and buses these days, that was rarely possible. Still, I endeavored to jot down words I wasn't sure about so that I could look them up later. To a meager extent, I do this with any book: I like to know what the words I'm reading mean, rather than just guessing. Jack Vance is a rather extreme case here, which would repulse many people. I've encountered the reasoning that Vance would prefer to use the one word that means exactly what he wants rather than ten words to convey the same meaning. That seems accurate enough. He also has a tendency to make up his own word in certain situations (for example, in writing the dialogue for a verbose sorcerer who is using jargon). Some of these are truly obscure, but in other cases I can only express my own shame at needing to look these words up. Oh well. Here's a list of what I had to look up. For reference, the book was over 600 pages.

Saturnine: used in this case as an adjective to describe someone's personality. It means dull, gloomy, or slow to change one's mood.

Obloquy: the condition of having been insulted, reproached, or verbally abused. Perhaps the expression should be "to add obloquy to injury."

Sacerdote: used in this case as a name for a member of a certain society within the story, but I also recognized it as an ordinary word. It's a term for a priest.

Cabochon: a precious stone in a smooth, convex shape (as opposed to one that is cut into facets).

Caparison: a covering placed over a horse or other steed. Often highly ornamented. This word appears in multiple stories in this collection with multiple types of animal. Jack Vance apparently likes caparisons. I've seen them, but didn't know the word for them. Now I do.

Apposition: in this case, placement of something next to something else.

Parquetry: blocks of wood arranged in a geometric pattern for flooring or furniture. I think it was flooring in this instance. Jack Vance describes architecture and furniture more than most science fiction writers. Clothing too. And I keep running into unfamiliar terms.

Sinecure: an official position with an income, but with no work. Often a priestly sort of thing.

Timorous: full of fear or easily frightened. I'm ashamed I had to look this one up. But we might as well be honest about these things.

Inanition: the process of emptying something, the condition of being empty, or the exhaustion resulting from insufficiency. By the time I looked this up, I forgot the context.

Emendation: used in this case to refer to a correction to one person's narrative by another party present in the dialogue. "So and so emended."

Truculence: fierceness, savagery, cruelty. I've seen the word many times, but I apparently forgot what it meant.

Aver: to assert the truth of a statement.

Puissance: potency, power, strength, influence.

Habiliment: accoutrement, attire, array, equipment.

Balustrade: a set of columns (balusters) with a rail running over the top of them. Yeah, yeah, I should probably have known this one.

Obbligato: a music term, so of course I don't understand it. Apparently an obbligato is an accompaniment that is essential to a composition. Whatever.

Rill: a very small stream, brook, or rivulet.

Gusset: flexible material used to fill the joints in armor.

Lissome: supple, lithe and agile.

Stultify: to reduce to foolishness or absurdity.

Fuscous: dark greyish brown.

Smalt: glass colored deep blue by cobalt oxide.

Avaunt: used here as an interjection for "go forth."

Actinic: an adjective typically used to refer to light, it means having a lot of ultraviolet or readily causing chemical change. I guess the metal actinium (which is radioactive and glows blue) got its name from this. I had no idea.

Captious: I forget the context. This word can mean either "designed to entrap or entangle by subtlety" or "apt to catch faults or take exception to actions." Those concepts are pretty different from each other.

Lubricity: Slipperiness, either literal or figurative. I think it was figurative in this case.

Diaphanous/Diaphane: a diaphane is an object that is transparent or insubstantial. I've seen this word many times. I somehow forgot what it meant.

Aureole: a glorifying halo

Appurtenance: an adjunct, accessory, something that belongs to or in association with something else.

Pertinacious: persistent, stubborn, resistant to attempts at removal.

Vicissitude: the changing or mutability of something, especially when this is unclear or obscured.

Periapt: an amulet, a charm worn to ward off illness or misfortune.

Volute: that spiral thing at the top of some columns in architecture (Ionic columns). It's defined as "scroll-like." Doesn't look much like a scroll to me though. Maybe a little, I guess.

Tabouret: a low stool or table.

Lunule: a crescent shape

Cogitation: the action of thinking, reflecting, giving consideration.

Supererogatory: going beyond what is commanded or required. I knew from context that it was similar to "superfluous." But it's not identical.

Cognomen: a nickname. I knew this. I forgot. I am a failure.

Spinifex: a type of grass that is common in Australian deserts.

Hauteur: loftiness of manner or bearing.

Emmer: a type of wheat.

Viand: an article of food.

Pleasaunce: a pleasure garden, a part of a garden that doesn't produce food.

Inchoate: an adjective meaning "just begun."

Casuistic: I looked this one up and the dictionary said, "pertaining to cauistry." Thanks, jackass. Basically, the character calling someone else "casuistic" was accusing that person of sophistry. Casuistry is the generalization of moral principles to specific situations, regardless of whether they fit.

Oleaginous: fatty or greasy.

Nonpareil: unrivaled. Having no equal. Peerless. I thought this was what it meant.

Tesseract: the four-dimensional analogue of a cube.

Sponson: a projection from the side of a ship, like a gun platform.

Spurge: a type of flowering plant (it refers to the genus Euphorbia).

Cullion: used here to denote a kind of orchid. It apparently is also a word for a testicle and also an insult for a person one deems to be vile or loathsome. English is crazy.

Swange: I don't remember the context. It's apparently a flank or groin, but seems to be from Middle English, not really used in Modern English. I don't think Vance was using the term from Middle English.

Apposite: used here to mean "placed beside" or maybe "corresponding." I'd kind of recognized the word as "that which is applied" but the particular context was a bit unfamiliar to me.

Adumbrate: to foreshadow or outline

Libram: Jack Vance made this word up, but I am including it here because Gary Gygax apparently picked the word up and it has made its way into fantasy parlance in general. Vance uses the word in much the way someone might use "grimoire."

Pullulation: sprouting, budding, germination, generation, or an abnormal growth or proliferation.

Ubietal: doesn't show up in dictionaries, but "ubiety" does. It's the condition of being in a specific place. "Whereness."


Concatenation: a series of linked things of some sort. A chain or succession. The act of linking things together.

Jejune: I forget the context. Of land, this means barren or poor. Of concepts or of people, it means dull or lacking substance.

Fractious: Unruly, peevish, apt to break out into passion or to scold.

Vocable: a word or term

Moulder: in this case, the word refers to clay and dust.

Solecism: a violation of the rules of grammar, an impropriety in speech or diction.

Pergola: although I've probably seen the word before, I totally forgot what it meant. It's a sort of shelter consisting of an platform elevated on columns, especially in a garden with plants growing on it.

Calliope: a musical instrument that is basically a pipe organ with steam coming out of locomotive whistles.

Velloped: a variation on a heraldric thing that probably refers to a rooster. I don't know.

Irruption: a break-in.

Esplanade: this one has various meanings and its original meaning has do with fortifications, but I don't understand exactly what the thing is to which the definition is referring. Mostly, it seems that an esplanade is an open space, like a plot of grass, especially one between a citadel and the houses of the surrounding town.

Hostler: one who attends horses at an inn. A stableman.

Solicitude: the state of being uneasy in mind. Disquietude or anxiety.

Faience: glazed earthenware or porcelain.

Irascible: easily provoked to anger or resentment.


Obdurate: stubbornly impenitent.

Gentian:a genus of small plants with trumpet-shaped flowers that are often an intense blue.

Asseverate: to solemnly affirm or to state emphatically.

Turpitude: I totally forgot what this word meant. It's depravity, vileness, baseness, or shamefulness.

Prolixity: another one that I knew in the past, but could not define off the top of my head when I saw it. This word refers to tedious long-windedness.

Obverse: turned toward, facing.

Belvedere: a raised turret on top of a house.

Eyrie: the nest of a bird of prey, especially that of an eagle on a mountain or cliff.

Loggia: a covered space for walking under with its sides open to the air.

Gauche: awkward, clumsy, lacking grace.

Insousiance: careless indifference.

Savoir: knowledge, know-how, savvy.

Coruscate: to emit light in a quivering manner, to sparkle or glimmer.

Mordant: I think this was used as an adjective, so I'll go with that version. It means sharply critical, incisive, caustic, witty.

Trenchant: having a keen edge, sharp.

Arrant: itinerant, wandering. This is basically the same word as "errant" and was once more common, but not "errant" is the dominant version. Vance probably used this spelling for some stylistic purpose.

Parvenu: someone that used to be poor, but accumulated wealth. I had no idea that there was a word for this.

Poltroonery: I looked this up, only to find "behavior characteristic of a poltroon." Thanks, OED! Reading on, it appears that a poltroon is a pusillanimous, possibly lazy person.

Immure: to wall (something or someone) in.