There’s more to ‘blacksmithing’ than meets the eye

Our image of the village blacksmith comes straight off the page of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s famous poem, “The Village Blacksmith,” which was published in November of 1840. Here is some of the description: 

…The smith, a mighty man is he,

With large and sinewy hands,

And the muscles of his brawny arms

Are strong as iron bands.

 

His hair is crisp, and black, and long…

His brow is wet with honest sweat…

 

Week in, week out, from morn till night,

You can hear his bellows blow;

You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,

With measured beat and slow,

Like a sexton ringing the village bell,

When the evening sun is low. 

We’ve learned that a smith is a person who works with metal, and the term “blacksmith” is given to one who works with iron, a metal that turns black when heated.

 

A smithy is the workshop that revolves around the forge, a furnace or hearth for melting or refining metal. When the fire is hot enough for iron to become malleable, the blacksmith hammers it into the shape that is required, banging it against a properly sized anvil. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow lived from 1807-82. He was a charter member of the “fireside poets,” a small collection of 19th-century American poets who challenged the popularity of British poets.

Longfellow

 

Joining Longfellow in this grouping were William Cullen Bryant, John Greenleaf Whittier, James Russell Lowell, Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Their writings were considered a source of entertainment in the evening by families who gathered around firesides all across the nation. 

It’s in honor of them, in my humble opinion, that the term “wordsmith” was coined in 1873 to describe “a person who has skill with using words, especially in writing.” These poetic geniuses were the certainly deserving to be tapped as the original American wordsmiths. Would you agree? 

Angela Tague of Sioux City, Iowa, a modern-day journalist who specializes in search engine optimization (SEO), questioned the association of the “smithing” part with great writers.

 

“When we think of this classic trade of smithing, the idea of forging something new from bars of metal is top of mind,” she said. 

Tague then rationalized: “Much like a blacksmith twisting and molding iron to fashion a new tool, writers do the same with words to create thoughts and ideas.” Yes, that could be a form of smithing.

 “Working with fire? Forging? Creating? Molding? Yep, sounds about like a day at my desk as a writer,” Tague said. She offered this greeting to colleagues: “Happy wordsmithing to you, fellow workers-in-words.” 

Ah yes, wordsmith is now acceptable as a verb. But the entire process of wordsmithing can be summed up in one new noun – wordsmithery. 

“Wordsmithery: Using this fancy four-syllable concoction screams ‘word nerd,’” Tague said. “Refer to your wordsmithery when showing writing samples or exclaim in an upcoming tweet (to a client) that you’re off to do some wordsmithery on a project. oLet the wordsmithery of the day commence! I must fashion new words for your consumption!”

 

Perhaps her enthusiasm to wordsmith is a bit over the top. 

Urban Dictionary, which was launched in 1999 in San Luis Obispo, Calif., says wordsmithery involves the ability to “effortlessly string words together to create smiles, laughter or admiration…and to ‘make up (stuff) on the spot.’” 

“Depending on the project, this definition is fitting, too,” Tague said with a laugh. 

Tsk, tsk.