You know that weird, heavy feeling when you realize every single person walking past you on the street has a life as complex and messy as your own? There’s finally a word for that. It's called sonder. If you’ve spent any time on Tumblr, Pinterest, or TikTok over the last decade, you’ve definitely seen that word. But most people don’t realize it didn’t come from some dusty old etymology text. It came from John Koenig. More specifically, it came from the dictionary of obscure sorrows the book, a project that spent years as a cult-favorite YouTube channel before finally hitting shelves as a physical hardcover.
It’s a strange thing, honestly. A book full of words that aren't "real" in the traditional sense, yet they feel more honest than half the stuff in the Merriam-Webster.
Koenig started this whole thing because he felt like the English language had these massive, gaping holes. We have words for being happy or sad, sure. But what about that specific ache you feel when you realize you'll never actually know what it's like to be a different person? Or the frustration of being born into the wrong era? The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows the book aims to patch those holes. It isn't just a gimmick. It’s a deep, often existential look at what it means to be a human being in a world that’s moving way too fast for our brains to keep up.
Why We Needed These Words Anyway
Language is a tool, but sometimes the tool is blunt.
Think about it. We use the same word—"love"—to describe how we feel about our spouses, our mothers, and a really good slice of pizza. That’s ridiculous. Koenig recognized that our internal emotional landscape is incredibly high-definition, but our vocabulary is often stuck in low-res. He spent years meticulously crafting definitions that felt like they had always existed, even though he was pulling them from a mix of Greek, Latin, and Old French roots.
Take the word Vemödalen. It describes the fear that everything has already been done—that every photo you take of a sunset is just a replica of a billion other photos. It’s a paralyzing feeling for creators. By naming it, the dictionary of obscure sorrows the book gives you power over it. It’s no longer this vague, looming cloud of anxiety. It’s just Vemödalen. You can look it in the eye.
The Long Road from YouTube to Print
This wasn't an overnight success. Koenig started the project in 2009. For years, it was a series of beautifully narrated videos. His voice—calm, steady, slightly melancholic—became the soundtrack for a specific type of internet user. People who felt a little out of place.
📖 Related: Coach Bag Animal Print: Why These Wild Patterns Actually Work as Neutrals
The transition to a physical book was a massive undertaking. Published by Simon & Schuster, the book isn't just a glossary. It’s arranged by the "types" of sorrows: the self, the world, people, and time. It reads more like a book of poetry or a philosophical treatise than a dictionary.
The Meaning Behind the Most Famous Definitions
If you’re diving into the dictionary of obscure sorrows the book, you’re going to run into some heavy hitters. These are the words that went viral and effectively entered the cultural lexicon.
- Sonder: The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own, with their own ambitions, friends, routines, and inherited craziness.
- Opia: The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.
- Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place. Like you’re a traveler who just happens to be standing in your own living room.
- Enouement: The bittersweet desire to go back in time and tell your past self how things turned out, but knowing you can’t.
There’s something deeply comforting about these. It’s a "me too" moment bound in a 300-page book. You realize that the weird, specific melancholy you felt at 2:00 AM on a Tuesday isn't just you being "dramatic." It’s a documented human experience.
Is It Just Pretentious Word-Play?
Some critics argue that you can't just "invent" language. They say if a word isn't used by a broad population over centuries, it’s just fan fiction for the soul. But that's missing the point. Language has always been fluid. "Selfie" wasn't a word until we needed it to be. "Gaslighting" took on a whole new life recently.
Koenig isn't trying to trick anyone into thinking these are ancient terms. He’s an artist. He’s using etymology as a medium. In the dictionary of obscure sorrows the book, he acknowledges the limitations of communication. Sometimes, the only way to describe a feeling is to build a brand-new cage for it.
The book is actually quite grounded. It doesn't use academic jargon. It uses metaphors that hit you in the gut. He talks about the "background noise" of life and the "glitches" in our perception. It feels modern because it is modern. It deals with the specific sorrows of the digital age—the loneliness of being constantly connected, the pressure to be "seen," and the weird grief of watching your own life happen through a screen.
👉 See also: Bed and Breakfast Wedding Venues: Why Smaller Might Actually Be Better
How to Actually Use This Book
Don't read it cover to cover. Seriously. It’s too much. If you try to power through it in one sitting, you’ll end up in a full-blown existential crisis by chapter three.
Instead, keep it on a coffee table or a nightstand. Flip to a random page when you’re feeling "off." It’s a great way to ground yourself. Many people use it as a journaling prompt. If you’re a writer or an artist, it’s basically a cheat code for inspiration. Finding a word that perfectly captures a mood can unlock an entire story or painting.
It’s also a fantastic gift for that one friend who is "too deep" for their own good. You know the one. They probably own a lot of houseplants and listen to Bon Iver. They will love this.
Real-World Impact
Since its release, the book has influenced everything from indie songs to tattoos. I’ve seen countless people with "Sonder" or "Meraki" (a different concept, but often grouped in) inked on their forearms. It has become a shorthand for empathy.
In a world that feels increasingly polarized and shallow, the dictionary of obscure sorrows the book asks us to slow down. It asks us to look at the stranger on the bus and acknowledge their humanity. It asks us to be patient with our own complicated, messy emotions.
The Philosophy of Naming
There is a psychological concept called "labeling" where naming an emotion reduces its power over you. When you’re caught in a spiral of kenopsia—the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that’s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet—naming it allows you to observe the feeling rather than just drowning in it.
✨ Don't miss: Virgo Love Horoscope for Today and Tomorrow: Why You Need to Stop Fixing People
Koenig is essentially performing a massive act of collective therapy. By giving us these words, he’s giving us a way to talk to each other about things we previously thought were unspeakable.
Key Insights for Readers
If you are looking to pick up a copy, keep these things in mind:
- Etymology Matters: Pay attention to the roots Koenig uses. He often blends German, Japanese, and Scandinavian linguistic structures. It adds a layer of depth that makes the words feel "earned."
- The Essays are the Best Part: Between the definitions, there are longer lyrical essays. These are arguably the soul of the book. They provide the context and the "why" behind the sorrow.
- It’s Not All Sad: Despite the title, many of these "sorrows" are actually beautiful. They are about the richness of life. The "sorrow" is often just the fact that beauty is fleeting.
Next Steps for Your Reading Journey
If you want to get the most out of this work, start by identifying a feeling you’ve had recently that you couldn't quite explain. Go to the index and look for themes related to that moment. Use the definition to write a short paragraph about your own experience.
You can also find the original video versions of many of these definitions on the official YouTube channel. Watching the visual representations of words like Lachesism (the desire to be struck by disaster) adds a visceral layer to the reading experience. Finally, consider using these terms in your own creative work or conversations; language only becomes "real" when we decide to use it to bridge the gap between ourselves and others.