Anonymuncule (pronounced uh-non-uh-monk-u-elle)
An
insignificant, anonymous writer
1859: A
portmanueau word, the construct being anony(mous) + (ho)muncule. Homnuncle was from the Latin homunculus (a little man), a diminutive
of homō (man). Anonymous entered English circa 1600 and was
from the Late Latin anonymus, from the
Ancient Greek ᾰ̓νώνῠμος (anṓnumos) (without name), the construct
being ᾰ̓ν- (an-) (“not; without; lacking” in the
sense of the negating “un-”) + ὄνῠμᾰ (ónuma), an Aeolic & Doric dialectal form of ὄνομᾰ (ónoma) (name). The construct
of the English form was an- + -onym
+ -ous. The
an- prefix was an alternative form of on-, from the Middle English an-, from the Old English an- & on- (on-), from the Proto-Germanic ana- (on). It was used to
create words having the sense opposite to the word (or stem) to which the
prefix is attached; it was used with stems beginning either with vowels or
"h". The element -onym (word;
name) came from the international scientific vocabulary, reflecting a New Latin
combining form, from Ancient Greek ὄνυμα
(ónuma). The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus
(full, full of); a doublet of -ose in
an unstressed position. It was used to
form adjectives from nouns to denote (1) possession of (2) presence of a
quality in any degree, commonly in abundance or (3) relation or pertinence to. In chemistry, it has a specific technical
application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a
specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent
compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.
For example, sulphuric acid (H2SO4) has more
oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H2SO3). The
Latin homunculus (plural homunculi) enjoyed an interesting history. In medieval medicine, it was used in the
sense of “a miniature man”, a creature once claimed by the spermists (once a
genuine medical speciality) to be present in human sperm while in modern
medicine the word was resurrected for the cortical homunculus, an image of a
person with the size of the body parts distorted to represent how much area of
the cerebral cortex of the brain is devoted to it (ie a “nerve map” of the human
body that exists on the parietal lobe of the human brain). Anonymuncule is a noun; the noun plural is anonymuncules.
Like astrology, alchemy once enjoyed a position
of orthodoxy among scientists and it was the alchemists who first popularized homunculus,
the miniature, fully formed human, a concept with roots in both folklore and preformationism
(in biology. the theory that all organisms start their existence already in a
predetermined form upon conception and this form does not change in the course
of their lifetime (as opposed to epigenesis (the theory that an organism
develops by differentiation from an unstructured egg rather than by simple
enlarging of something preformed)). It
was Paracelsus (the Swiss physician, alchemist, lay theologian, and philosopher
of the German Renaissance Theophrastus von Hohenheim (circa 1493-1541)) who
seems to have been the first to use the word in a scientific paper, it
appearing in his De homunculis (circa
1529–1532), and De natura rerum
(1537). As the alchemists explained, a homunculus
(an artificial humanlike being) could be created through alchemy and in De natura rerum Paracelsus detailed his method.
A writer
disparaged as an anonymuncule differs from one who publishes their work anonymously
or under a pseudonym, the Chicago Tribune in 1871 explaining the true anonymuncule
was a “little
creature who must not be confounded with the anonymous writers, who supply
narratives or current events, and discuss public measures with freedom, but
deal largely in generalities, and very little in personalities.” That was harsh but captures the place the
species enjoy in the literary hierarchy (and it’s a most hierarchal place). Anonymuncules
historically those writers who publish anonymously or under pseudonyms, without
achieving renown or even recognition and there’s often the implication they are
“mean & shifty types” who “hide behind their anonymity”.
Primary Colors: A Novel of Politics (1996), before and after the lifting of the veil.
Some
however have good and even honourable reasons for hiding behind their anonymity
although there is also sometime mere commercial opportunism. When former Time columnist Joe Klein (born 1946)
published Primary Colors: A Novel of
Politics (1996), the author was listed as “anonymous”, a choice made to
avoid the political and professional risks associated with openly critiquing a
sitting president and his administration. Primary
Colors was a (very) thinly veiled satire of Bill Clinton’s (b 1946; US
president 1993-2001) 1992 presidential campaign and offered an insider's view
of campaign life, showing both the allure and moral compromises involved. By remaining anonymous, Klein felt more able candidly
to discuss the ethical dilemmas and personal shortcomings of his characters,
something that would have been difficult has his identity been disclosed, the
conflicts of interest as a working political journalist obvious. Critically and commercially, the approach
seems greatly to have helped the roman à clef (a work of fiction based on real
people and events) gain immediate notoriety, the speculation about the author’s
identity lying at the core of the book’s mystique. Others have valued anonymity because their
conflicts of interest are insoluble. Remarkably,
Alfred Deakin (1856-1919; prime minister of Australia 1903-1904, 1905-1908 &
1909-1910) even while serving as prime-minister, wrote political commentaries
for London newspapers including the National Review & Morning Post and,
more remarkably still, some of his pieces were not uncritical of both his
administration and his own performance in office. Modern politicians should be encouraged to pursue
this side-gig; it might teach them truthfulness and encourage them more widely to
practice it.
For others, it can be a form of pre-emptive self defense. The French philosopher Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet; 1694–1778) wrote under a nom de plume because he held (and expressed) views which often didn’t please kings, bishops and others in power and this at a time when such conduct was likely to attract persecution worse than censorship or disapprobation. Mary Ann Evans (1819–1880) adopted the pseudonym George Eliot in an attempt to ensure her works would be taken seriously, avoiding the stigma associated with female authorship at the time. George Eliot’s style of writing was however that of a certain sort of novelist and those women who wrote in a different manner were an accepted part of the literary scene and although Jane Austen’s name never appeared on her published works, when Sense and Sensibility (1811) appeared its author was listed as “A Lady”. Although a success, all her subsequent novels were billed as: “By the author of Sense and Sensibility”, Austen's name never appearing on her books during her lifetime. Ted Kaczynski (1942-2023), the terrorist and author of the Unabomber Manifesto (1995) had his own reasons (wholly logical but evil) for wanting his test to be read but his identity as the writer to remain secret.
Deserved anonymuncule: Baldur Benedikt von Schirach
Exquisite is used almost exclusively as an adjective, applied typically to objects or performances but it’s also a noun, albeit one always rare. As a noun it was used to describe men who inhabited that grey area of being well dressed, well coiffured, well mannered and somewhat effeminate without being obviously homosexual; it was a way of hinting at something without descending to the explicit. PG Wodehouse (1881-1975) applied it thus in Sam the Sudden (1925) and historians Ann (1938-2021) & John Tusa (b 1936) in The Nuremberg Trial (1983) found no better noun to apply to former Hitler Youth Leader Baldur von Schirach, noting (as did his many enemies in the party) his feminine tastes in furnishings and propensity to pen poor poetry. The companion word to describe a similar chap without of necessity the same hint of effeminacy is “aesthete”. In The Anatomy of the Nuremberg Trials: A Personal Memoir (1992), Brigadier General Telford Taylor (1908–1998; lead US counsel at the Nuremberg Trial) wrote of him that: “at thirty-nine, was the youngest and, except perhaps for Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945) and Hans Fritzsche (1900–1953; Nazi propagandist), the weakest of the defendants. If wimps had then been spoken of, Schirach would have been so styled.”
Left to right: Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), Martin Bormann (1900–1945), Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945), and Baldur von Schirach (1907-1974; head of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth) 1931-1940 & Gauleiter (district party leader) and Reichsstatthalter (Governor) of Vienna (1940-1945)), Berchtesgaden, Bavaria, Germany, 1936. Of much, the other three were guilty as sin and would (at the last possible moment) commit suicide but von Schirach would survive to die in his bed at 67. There seems no record to confirm if that bed was in a “a snow white bedroom with delicate lace curtains” as the rougher types in the Nazi Party had once derided him for having.
Airey Neave (1916–1979) was the British military lawyer who served the indictments on the defendants at Nuremberg and in On Trial at Nuremberg (1978) he recalled the experience, cell by cell. His first impression of von Schirach was that his appearance was “…bi-sexual and soft with thé dansant eyes [thé dansant was a dance held while afternoon tea was served and in idiomatic use “thé dansant eyes” suggested the coquettish fluttering of the lashes a flirtatious young lady might deploy]”, adding “He looked a man who might be dangerous to small boys. At a second glance, I imagined him beneath the palms at Cannes in co-respondent shoes.” In this context, Neave used “co-respondent” in the sense of the man cited in divorce proceedings as the one who slept with the adulterous wife and a “co-respondent shoes (or car, suit, tie etc)” were distinguished by flashiness rather than quality.
Von Schirach went on trial before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg trial (1945-1946), an event the author Rebecca West (1892–1983) attended in her capacity as a journalist and among her impressions she wrote of him, admitting she was at first “startled” because “…he was like a woman in a way not common among men who look like women. It was as if a neat and mousy governess sat there, not pretty but with never a hair out of place, and always to be trusted never to intrude when there were visitors: as it might be Jane Eyre.” Although indicted also under Count 1 (conspiracy to commit crimes against peace), for his role as head (1931-1940) of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth), von Schirach was convicted only under Count 4 (crimes against humanity) for his part in deporting Viennese Jews to the death camps while Gauleiter and Reichsstatthalter of Vienna. Cunningly, and not without ostentation, he admitted some guilt for his role in “corrupting German youth” although by that he meant the political indoctrination to which he subjected them, rather than conduct many in the Nazi party liked to hint he enjoyed with the boys under his command; however defined, it’s certain he corrupted more youth than Socrates (circa 470–399 BC). Applying common law principles, the IMT found his actions as head of the Hitlerjugend didn’t reach the threshold of “conspiracy” and thus acquitted him on Count 1, his 20 year sentence handed down for his conduct in Vienna. The preparation for the trial had been rushed and had subsequently discovered evidence against him been presented at the trial, doubtlessly and deservedly he’d have been hanged. Had that sentence been imposed, whether like Göring he’d have followed Socrates and taken hemlock will never be known.
The "poet manqué" is a term related to anonymuncule. A poet manqué is an aspiring poet who never produced a single book of verse (although it’s used also of an oeuvre so awful it should never have been published and the poetry of someone Baldur von Schirach comes to mind). The adjective manqué entered English in the 1770s and was used originally in the sense of “unfulfilled due to the vagary of circumstance, some inherent flaw or a constitutional lack”. Because it’s so often a literary device, in English, the adjective does often retain many grammatical features from French, used postpositively and taking the forms manquée when modifying a feminine noun, manqués for a plural noun, and manquées for a feminine plural noun. That’s because when used in a literary context (“poet manqué”, “novelist manqué” et all) users like it to remain inherently and obviously “French” and thus it’s spelled often with its diacritic (the accent aigu (acute accent): “é”) although when used casually (to suggest “having failed, missed, or fallen short, especially because of circumstances or a defect of character”) as “fly-half manqué”, “racing driver manqué” etc), the spelling manque” is sometimes used.
Manqué (that
might have been but is not) was from the French manqué, past participle form of the sixteenth century manquer (to lack, to be lacking in; to
miss), from the Italian mancare, from
manco, from the Latin mancus (maimed, defective), from the
primitive Indo-European man-ko- (maimed
in the hand), from the root man- (hand). Although it’s not certain, the modern slang
adjective “manky” (bad, inferior, defective (the comparative mankier, the superlative
mankiest)), in use since the late 1950s, may be related. Since the 1950s, the use in the English-speaking
world (outside of North America) has extended to “unpleasantly dirty and
disgusting” with a specific use by those stationed in Antarctica where it means
“being or having bad weather”. The
related forms are the noun mankiness and the adverb mankily. Although it’s not an official part of avian
taxonomy, bird-watchers (birders) in the UK decided “manky mallard” was perfect
to describe a mallard bred from wild mallards and domestic ducks (they are
distinguished by variable and uneven plumage patterns). However, it’s more likely manky is from the
UK slang mank which was originally from Polari mank and used to mean “disgusting, repulsive”.
No poet manqué: In January 2017, Lindsay Lohan posted to Instagram a poem for her 5.2 million followers, the verse a lament of the excesses of IS (the Islamic State), whetting the appetite for the memoir which might one day appear (hopefully "naming names"). The critical reaction to the poem was mixed but the iambic pentameter in the second stanza attracted favorable comment:
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