“What book has given me greater pleasure in the last five years? Or in the last twenty?” asked writer Roald Dahl some decades ago.

He was referring to True Grit, a 1968 bestseller that was successfully adapted twice for the movies. That absolutely enchanting book — which legendary editor Robert Gottlieb said needed virtually no changes — was penned by the sadly neglected Charles Portis, an American treasure who is finally getting his due.

Having passed away five years ago at the age of 86, Portis wrote only five novels, most of which eventually went out of print. But in 2023, the prestigious Library of America issued a handsome single volume containing all his full-length books, along with a good deal of other short work.

Here at Weird Words, we recently focused on Portis’s surreal Masters of Atlantis — a one-of-a-kind satire on American religious cults that has won admiration from such figures as Conan O’Brien and Greg Daniels (the latter cited it as an inspiration for The Office); actor Michael Cera recently optioned Atlantis for the screen.

Two weeks ago, we highlighted some delightfully arcane vocabulary from Portis’s cult classic — such weirdness being especially apt for a story about secrecy and hidden knowledge.

Here are more:

Festinate (FESS-tuh-nate, verb) – To hurry or hasten. Believe it or not, this Latin-based term is not related to “fast,” which traces a different etymology from German.

Leptorrhine (LEP-tuh-ryne, adj.) – Having a long, narrow nose; that’s from Merriam-Webster, just about the only dictionary that actually contains this truly weird word.

Mukluks (MUCK-lucks, noun) – Soft Eskimo boots made with the hide of reindeer or seals; also a similar type of slipper.

As another shout-out to something sadly neglected: I first heard this term on a vinyl record by the inimitable comedy troupe Firesign Theatre (1966-2012). And here’s a nod to Joe Bering, my only Lycoming friend who’s familiar with that irresistible bunch of lunatics; like Portis (and like Dr. Joe), Firesign really is in a class by itself.

Orichalcum (oar-uh-CAL-cum, noun) – Variant form of orichalc, a yellowish alloy made from gold or copper and considered precious in ancient Greece. It shows up in Masters of Atlantis through one Cezar Golescu, a demented alchemist obsessed with the fictitious ancient civilization of “Mu”; Golescu thinks he can get plants to extract gold from certain types of dirt. Sheesh.

Phlogiston (flow-JISS-ton, noun) – “Hypothetical substance formerly thought to be a volatile constituent of all combustible substances” (American Heritage). From the Greek base phlox (“flame”), which was also adapted as the name of a brightly colored flower.

Puttee (puh-TEE or PUTT-ee, noun) – A leather legging; or, “a long strip of cloth wound spirally around the leg from ankle to knee for protection and support” (Concise Oxford American). You’d recognize these if you saw a photo; they were common among infantry during World War I. Adapted from Indian garments when the British army was so prevalent there, puttee is originally a word from Hindu and Urdi.

Pygmoid (PIG-moyd, adj. ) – Resembling, or characteristic of, a pygmy. As American Heritage puts it, this word is “not in scientific use.”

Sessile (SESS-uhl or SESS-ile, noun) – Sess is a Latin base meaning “to sit”; from it, we get words like “session” and — because both “S” and “D” are pronounced near the front of the mouth — “sedentary.” Sessile is a scientific term for plant-leaves that are attached without a stalk — or to fixed zoological structures that don’t move freely.

I can’t recall how Portis uses this word; probably to describe his fixated cultists, who do nothing but sit around reading old books and spouting gobbledygook.

Spicule (SPIK-yool, noun) – Also called spicula, this is a needle-like body part in certain invertebrates. Good luck using that in common conversation!

I also jotted down these additional oddball terms from Masters of Atlantis, though we don’t have room to define them all today: carillon, colure, mustee, odic, panatela, seersucker, tipstaff and ululate.

Some of these are more common than those defined above — but you sure don’t see them in very often books.

Unless you’re reading Portis.