Thoughtful Vocabulary: Vellichor

You ever learn a new word that makes you sigh contentedly to know it exists? 

…No? Oh, me neither. I’m cool. Really.

But if I DID get that feeling, Vellichor would be a perfect example.

Vellichor means “the strange wistfulness or nostalgia of used bookstores.”

That might as well be my middle name. 

It’s worth noting this word wasn’t coined naturally. It’s been popularized by John Koenig’s The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, which is full of invented words for hyper-specific feelings. In short, it’s a made-up word, but, then, every other word is made up, too. And this word is very well made.

“Vell” comes from Vellum, a common type of paper in the Middle Ages that was made from animal skin. “Ichor” is the Greek word for the blood of the gods, which connotes a magical essence. It’s also used in another great constructed word, “Petrichor” the smell of earth after rain. Put the two together and you have a pseudo-mystical quality of old books, and the hush of the stacks in a used bookstore certainly feels like Vellichor to me. 

Bookstores are struggling these days, partly due to people like me who got hooked on the convenience of ordering a book from a billion-dollar company and having it in hand a few days later without leaving the house. But I remember my favorite college bookstore shutting down, and now I feel more determined to buy locally as much as possible. This is my one-word answer as to why.

Small bookstores are special places. We can vote with our dollars to keep them alive and enjoy that nearly indescribable satisfaction they can bring.