baluster: No two ways about it, “baluster” is just a fancy word without much use, since all it refers to is a post—in this case, the post of the railing that runs around the poop deck.
congregant: A congregant is a member of a congregation. A congregation is the collective name for the members of any organization, but nowadays it is almost always used to refer to the members of a church—which is how Charles is using it too.
coniferous, deciduous, chlorophyll: Charles, being a bit of a science geek (well, more than a bit, really) knows that “coniferous” and “deciduous” refer to the two different kinds of trees. Coniferous trees are evergreens—i.e., the ones with needles that stay green all year long. Deciduous trees have leaves that fall to the ground each autumn. If you live in the city, as I do, I doubt that means much to you, but if you live in the suburbs or the country, then you’ve probably helped your parents rake fallen leaves into a huge pile and then jumped in them, which is fun as long as the leaves are dry and springy, but a little gross if they’re wet and slimy. Oh, and chlorophyll is the stuff that makes leaves green, and that also helps plants turn sunlight into energy through a process called photosynthesis. I don’t know how that works, myself. Charles probably does, but since it doesn’t really have much to do with the story—and since this glossary entry has gone on plenty long enough—I think we’ll skip it for now.
evanescent: “Evanescent” is a very pretty word (if I do say so myself) that has a very specific meaning: it refers to something that is seen in the very act of disappearing. I suppose I could’ve just written “fading away” or something like that, but as I said, “evanescent” is such a pretty word …
faggot: A faggot refers to sticks that have been tied together to make them easier to carry. See, that’s easier to say, isn’t it?
fealty: Someone or something, either Karl Olaf or Charles’s translation charm, was working a bit too hard here, because “fealty” just means “loyalty.” It specifically means “loyalty to your king,” which is what Karl Olaf likes to think he is, so I guess it was Karl Olaf who was reaching for the fancy word, not the translation charm.
hubris: See, the danger of acting like a smarty-pants is that someone who’s even smarter than you will come along and make you realize that no one likes to be talked down to—which is what President Wilson is doing to Charles when he accuses him of having hubris. “Hubris” means “excessive or obnoxious pride”—as in the kind of pride that goeth before a fall—and President Wilson could’ve just said “excessive pride,” but then he wouldn’t have shown Charles that he still knew a few things Charles didn’t.
infinitesimal: A big word with a small definition. No, really: it means “small.” If you want to get technical, it means “really crazy small,” but in general it just means “small.”
men-at-arms: Soldiers. Get it? Men with arms (not the kind that grow out of your shoulders, but, like, weapons). That’s all: soldiers.
Nordseta: The Nordseta was an annual hunt the Greenland Vikings, who lived on the southern tip of the island, used to take up the northwest coast each year. They would hunt things like polar bears and arctic foxes and gyrfalcons and other things that have white fur or plumage, such things being prized commodities in their society, and also back in Europe. (“Nord” is the old Norse word for “north,” if that helps.)
rune: A rune is a character in one of the alphabets used by various civilizations a long time ago—from, say, the third century all the way to the thirteenth. They look kind of like pictures, but to the people who used them, they looked like letters—or, more accurately, words, since a rune usually referred to a specific thing, and not just a sound, like the letters A, B, C, etc.
sentient: You mostly hear people use the word “sentient” when they’re speculating about whether there might be life on other planets, and whether that life is like humans—namely, able to think. Which is what “sentient” means. It’s how we distinguish ourselves from animals, who—as far as we know, anyway—aren’t able to think, although I myself think President Wilson might have a thing or two to say about that.
subliminal: Oh, Charles. He really shouldn’t tease Susan for the way she talks when he uses words like “subliminal,” huh? “Subliminal” means, literally, “below the threshold of conscious perception,” which is so complicated it requires a definition in and of itself. Basically what it means is that there are some things your regular senses—sight, hearing, smell, etc.—can’t pick up consciously, but some other part of your brain that you’re not really aware of can, the idea being that this information is stored somewhere, and you just have to figure out how to find it. If only the brain came with Google. Who knows what we’d find in those subliminal archives?
umiaq: First Norse; now Qaanaaq. You’ve probably heard of (or even seen) a kayak, which is a small boat invented by the various peoples who lived in the North American Arctic. The umiaq is another boat, only it’s much bigger, and not covered like a kayak. In fact, it’s a lot like a big canoe. Except they called it an umiaq.
vitrify: To vitrify something means to turn it into glass, usually by making it really, really, really hot. (No, you can’t stick something in your oven and turn it into glass: it’ll just catch fire, so DON’T DO IT!) If you’ve ever taken a pottery class, you’ve vitrified clay when you put it in the kiln and fired it, but some things in nature also get that hot, like sand when it’s struck by lightning, or the lava that comes out of volcanoes. Hot. Really, really hot.
winsome: Although it looks like a typo (win some, lose some?) “winsome” actually means “to be charming,” in the way that children are said to be charming. Do you ever think of yourself as charming, let alone winsome? I doubt it—this is clearly one of those words coined by adults who don’t remember what it’s like to be a kid.
ziggurat: A ziggurat is a pyramid, but a very specific kind of pyramid. When you hear the word “pyramid,” you probably think of the famous ones in Egypt that have nice smooth triangular sides. But a ziggurat is built in a series of levels, or terraces, each of which is smaller than the one below, so that the silhouette looks a bit like a staircase. The Mayan pyramids were often built in ziggurat form, as were many temples throughout the Middle East.