DICTIONARY OF FINE DISTINCTIONS

A middling compendium of the differences between adjacent terms in our descriptions of the world.

A dictionary? Not exactly: this is more of a sketchbook, featuring Finck’s wiggly line illustrations of definitions that seldom exceed a line or two. What’s the difference between a symphony and a concerto? According to Canadian humor writer Burnstein, “in a symphony, the whole orchestra plays more or less together,” whereas a concerto features a soloist and often a solo instrument such as a piano or cello. The definition is technically correct, but it doesn’t account for the finer of the fine distinctions and variations (Goldberg and otherwise). The difference between Great Britain and the United Kingdom? For one thing, one contains Northern Ireland, and the other doesn’t, a distinction that would be complicated if the difference were instead drawn between the British Isles and the U.K. Burnstein lays out the book in no apparent order or logic, and it tends to be shallow where depth is called for (the difference between guilt and shame is far more nuanced than suggested here) and deep where shallowness would do—e.g., the difference among a latte, a flat white, a cappuccino, and a cortado. From time to time, Burnstein gets the distinctions and length of entries just right: To say more about the difference between a cousin and a cousin removed would have been to court more messiness than necessary, and the author serves up a nice mnemonic involving verticality and horizontality. Despite such clever moments, the collection is overly frothy, often with the not-quite-right terms opposed: Robbery and burglary are one example, but what about the distinctions between breaking and entering, assault and battery, crimes and misdemeanors, and other of the truly paired legalities?

Safe and harmless, but not much of a challenge for committed logophiles.