Mark Helprin's Winter's Tale is a delight, even if its apparent themes are little more than an excuse for the wordplay window-dressing. I might not have found perfect justice, but a hall of light and mirrors built from language is quite enough for me.
One thing that needled, not being the sort to read with dictionary in hand, was this:
Though Mrs. Gamely was by all measures prescientific and illiterate, she did know words. Where she got them was anyone's guess, but she certainly had them. Virginia speculated that the people on the north side of the lake, steeped in variations of English both tender and precise, had made with their language a tool with which to garden a perfect landscape. Those who are isolated in small settlements may not know of the complexities common to great cities, but their hearts are rich, and so words are generated and retained. Mrs. Gamely's vocabulary was enormous. She knew words no one had ever heard of, and she used words every day that had been mainly dead or sleeping for hundreds of years. Virginia checked them in the Oxford dictionary, and found that (almost without exception) Mrs. Gamely's usage was flawlessly accurate. For instance, she spoke of certain kinds of dogs as Leviners. She called the areas near Quebec march-lands. She referred to diclesiums, liripoops, rapparees, dagswains, bronstrops, caroteels, opuntias, and soughs. She might describe something as patibulary, fremescent, pharisaic, Roxburghe, or glockamoid, and words like mormal, jeropigia, endosmic, mage, palmerin, thos, vituline, Turonian, galingale, comprodor, nox, gaskin, secotine, ogdoad, and pintulary fled from her lips in Pierian saltarellos. Their dictionary looked like a sow's ear, because Virginia spent inordinate proportions of her days racing through it, though when Mrs. Gamely was angry a staff of ten could not have kept pace with her, and half a dozen linguaphologists would have collapsed from hypercardia.
— Winter's Tale (New York: Harvest, 2005), 225-226
For reference (thanks, Oxford English Dictionary!):
Trawling the book for the rest of Helprin's vocabulary I leave for someone else, but special mention is due to "amphibological" -- of amphibology/amphiboly, ambiguity of speech, especially deriving from grammatical construction -- for appearing in context in the title Amphibological Whimsey Dances. It's a better name for wordplay than wordplay.