Recto & Verso

Recto (pronounced rek-toh)

(1) A right-hand page of an open book or manuscript (almost always bearing the odd numbers); the front of a leaf.

(2) The front of a loose sheet of printed paper

1815–1825: A clipping of the Late Latin phrase rēctō foliō (on the right-hand (leaf or page)), ablative of the Latin rēctus (in this context “right”).  Recto is a noun; the noun plural is rectos.  The Latin rēctus (past participle of the verb “regere” (to rule; to guide; to straighten) and perfect passive participle of regō (to keep or lead straight, to guide)) was from the Proto-Italic rektos, corresponding to the primitive Indo-European hreǵtós (having moved in a straight line), from reǵ- (to move in a straight line; to direct).  It was used to mean “straight”, “upright” and “correct” as well as “right”.  In general use it was used in the sense of “right, correct, proper, appropriate, befitting with a particular emphasis on “morally right, correct, lawful, just, virtuous, noble, good, proper, honest”.  The association with “straightness” and “rightness” also influenced other derivatives in Latin and Romance languages, such as rectum (straight (and its use in anatomy)), rectitude (moral uprightness) and words in modern languages (rectify, direct et al).

Verso (pronounced vur-soh)

(1) A left-hand page of an open book or manuscript (almost always bearing the even numbers); the back of a leaf.

(2) The back of a loose sheet of printed paper.

(3) In numismatics, the side of a coin opposite to the obverse (the reverse)

1830–1840: A clipping of the New Latin phrase versō foliō (the leaf having been turned; the turned side of the leaf; on the turned leaf), the construct built with the Latin verb vertere (to turn; to revolve; to change) + folium (a leaf). 

Vertere ultimately was from the primitive Indo-European root wert- (to turn; to rotate).  Verso was the ablative form of versus (turned; facing; a line or verse in poetry, (originally meaning “a turning of the plow”), thus, as used in versō foliō , the reference was to the back (reverse) side of a page in a book or manuscript (as opposed to the recto (the front side).  The primitive Indo-European root wert- also provided the ultimate source of a number of related words in Indo-European languages, all of which is some way emphasize the concept of “turning” or “change”, the modern descendants including verse, invert, revert, and versatile, all of which preserve the idea of turning or changing orientation.  Verso is a noun; the noun plural is versos.

Recto is the front (right) and verso the back (left) side of a leaf of paper in something assembled permanently (ie bound or in some way joined permanently at the spine) in a book, codex or such.  The terms have always been used to refer to the finished article, not the material used in production.  This was not something of significance when books were assembled from single sheets which then were bound but in mechanical printing, it became common for larger sheets (the folium) to be printed with many pages, later to be folded (prior to binding) so the numbers on those larger sheets weren’t sequential when the page was flat but became so when folded.  Rēctō foliō (on the right side of the leaf) and versō foliō (on the back side of the leaf were thus created in the bindery, not by the scribe).  The use of the terms for loose leaf sheets came later.

Recto & Verso are sometimes referred to as part of the architecture or archeology of printing, correctly, they’re an aspect of codicology (the study of codices) and there is some academic dispute about the origins, the Australian historian Martyn Lyons (b 1946) suggesting the term rēctum (right, correct, proper) for the front side of a leaf was derived from the use of papyrus in late antiquity, based on a different grain running across each side with on one suitable for writing upon (the “correct”, smooth side).  In an echo of that, even modern paper has a “grain” (by virtue of the way the pulp is laid in the production process) and when using heavily textured bond paper, the most fastidious technicians ensure the stock is “laid” the “correct” way.  Recto and verso are reversed when language read right-to-left are used (so regardless of language, the verso is read first).  In publishing, the convention is for the first page of a book (page 1) to be a recto so almost all recto pages have odd numbers and all versos even numbers.

On-line editions of publications are not simply digital replications of the layout used in print where the recto-verso model remains in use.  The migration to screens has been cited as the prime reason the “two-page spread” is now less common in print.

With the coming of computers, pages came to be viewed on screens and as technology improved, it became possible to display two pages, side-by-side, thereby permitting publications such as pictorial magazines to maintain the recto-verso model and for readers to consume the content presented in the same visual format as the printed edition.  However, the screens of eBook readers, smartphones and tablets have a smaller surface area than the typical computer monitor and tend to be optimized for single-page display (although may do have a two-page option).  For that reason, publications which maintain both traditional print editions and on-line versions, have been compelled to create a different visual model for each format (there can be several) because the old “two-page spread” simply doesn’t work was well, viewed a page at a time.  The layout of on-line content is not simply a replication of a print edition (which follows the classic recto-verso model) and it seems clear the small has had a great influence on the large.

Louis Vuitton Recto Verso in Monogram Empreinte leather (left) and Louis Vuitton Pochette Cles (Vivienne collectors edition). 

Lindsay Lohan with Louis Vuitton Pochette Cles (key pouch) from LV’s Vuitton Monogram Charms collection.  

Among the many problems troubling the world, some have to ponder whether to buy a Louis Vuitton Recto Verso card holder or a Louis Vuitton Pochette Cles (key pouch), two items similar in size and function.  LV describes the Pochette Cles as a “…playful yet practical accessory that can carry coins, cards, folded bills and other small items, in addition to keys. Secured with an LV-engraved zip, it can be hooked onto the D-ring inside most Louis Vuitton bags, or used as a bag or belt charm.”  The Recto Verso is said to be a “…versatile accessory offers multiple practical features, including a flap pocket, a zipped compartment with a wide, L-shaped opening, and four card slots. It also has a concealed hook and chain which allow it to be attached to a bag or belt.”

Amber Ashleigh’s guide to choosing between Louis Vuitton's Retro Verso and Pochette Cles (Key Pouch).

The retail price of the Retro Verso is between US$590-720 while the Pochette Cles lists between US$320-410 (the price varying with the material used in the construction) and while the solution obviously is to buy at least one of each, not all modern young spinsters can afford that so they should watch Amber Ashleigh’s invaluable guide.  Ms Ashleigh says this is among her “most requested videos.”

Macropterous & Brachypterous

Macropterous (pronounced muh-krop-ter-uhs)

(1) In zoology (mostly in ornithology, ichthyology & entomology), having long or large wings or fins.

(2) In engineering, architecture and design, a structure with large, untypical or obvious “wings” or “fins”.

Late 1700s: The construct was macro- +‎ -pterous.  Macro is a word-forming element meaning “long, abnormally large, on a large scale”, from the French, from the Medieval Latin, from the Ancient Greek μακρός (makrós), a combining form of makrós (long) (cognate with the Latin macer (lean; meager)), from the primitive Indo-European root mak (long, thin).  In English it is used as a general purpose prefix meaning “big; large version of”).  The English borrowing from French appears as early as the sixteenth century but it tended to be restricted to science until the early 1930s when there was an upsurge in the publication of material on economics during the Great Depression (ie as “macroeconomy” and its derivatives).  It subsequently became a combining form meaning large, long, great, excessive et al, used in the formation of compound words, contrasting with those prefixed with micro-.  In computing, it covers a wide vista but describes mostly relatively short sets of instructions used within programs, often as a time-saving device for the handling of repetitive tasks, one of the few senses in which macro (although originally a clipping in 1959 of “macroinstruction”) has become a stand-alone word rather than a contraction.  Other examples of use include macrophotography (photography of objects at or larger than actual size without the use of a magnifying lens (1863)), macrospore (in botany, "a spore of large size compared with others (1859)), macroeconomics (pertaining to the economy as a whole (1938), macrobiotic (a type of diet (1961)), macroscopic (visible to the naked eye (1841)), macropaedia (the part of an encyclopaedia Britannica where entries appear as full essays (1974)) and macrophage (in pathology "type of large white blood cell with the power to devour foreign debris in the body or other cells or organisms" (1890)).

The –pterous suffix was from the Ancient Greek, the construct being πτερ(όν) (pter(ón) (feather; wing), from the primitive Indo-European péthr̥ (feather) and related to πέτομαι (pétomai) (I fly) (and (ultimately), the English feather) +‎ -ous.  In zoology (and later, by extension, in engineering and design), it was appended to words from taxonomy to mean (1) having wings and (2) having large wings.  Later, it was used also of fins.  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 comparative is more macropterous and the superlative most macropterous.  Macropterous & macropteran are adjectives and macropter & macroptery are nouns; the noun plural is macropters.

Google ngram: Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Brachypterous (pronounced bruh-kip-ter-uhs)

In zoology (mostly in ornithology & entomology), having short, incompletely developed or otherwise abbreviated wings (defined historically as being structures which, when fully folded, do not reach to the base of the tail.long or large wings or fins.

Late 1700s: The construct was brachy- + -pterous.  The brachy- prefix was from the Ancient Greek βραχύς (brakhús) (short), from the Proto-Hellenic brəkús, from the primitive Indo-European mréǵus (short, brief).  The cognates included the Sanskrit मुहुर् (múhur) & मुहु (múhu), the Avestan m̨ərəzu.jīti (short-lived), the Latin brevis, the Old English miriġe (linked ultimately to the English “merry”) and the Albanian murriz.  It was appended to convey (1) short, brief and (2) short, small.  Brachypterous & brachypteran are adjectives and brachyptery & braˈchypterism are nouns.  The comparative would be more brachypterous and the superlative most brachypterous but because of the nature of the base word, that would seem unnatural.  The noun brachypter does not means “a brachypterous creature; it describes taeniopterygid stonefly of the genus Brachyptera”.

The European Chinch Bug which exists in both macropterous (left) and brachypterous (right) form; Of the latter, entomologists also use the term "micropterous" and use does seem interchangeable but within the profession there may be fine distinctions. 

The difference in the use of macropterous (long wings or fins) and brachypterous (short wings) is accounted for less by the etymological roots than the application and traditions of use.  In zoological science, macropterous was granted a broad remit and came to be used of any creature (form the fossil record as well as the living) with long wings (use most prevalent of insects) and water-dwellers with elongated fins.  The word was applied first to birds & insects before being used of fish (fins being metaphorical “wings” and in environmentally-specific function there is much overlap.  By extension, in the mid-twentieth century, macropterous came to be used in engineering, architecture and design including of cars, airframes and missiles.

Brachypterous (short wings) is used almost exclusively in zoology, particularly entomology, the phenomenon being much more common than among birds which, being heavier, rely for lift on wings with a large surface area.  Short wing birds do exist but many are flightless (the penguin a classic example where the wings are used in the water as fins (for both propulsion and direction)) and this descriptor prevails.  Brachypterous is less flexible in meaning because tightly it is tied to a specific biological phenomenon; essentially a “short fin” in a fish is understood as “a fin”.  Cultural and linguistic norms may also have been an influence in that while “macro-” is widely used a prefix denoting “large; big”, “brachy-” has never entered general used and remains a tool in biology.  So, in common scientific use, there’s no recognized term specifically for “short fins” equivalent to brachypterous (short wings) although, other than tradition, there seems no reason why brachypterous couldn’t be used thus in engineering & design.  If so minded, the ichthyologists could coin “brachyichthyous” (the construct being brachy- + ichthys (fish)) or brachypinnate (the construct being brachy- + pinna (“fin” or “feather” in Latin)), both meaning “short-finned fish”.  Neither seem likely to cath on however, the profession probably happy with “short-fin” or the nerdier “fin hypoplasia”.

The tailfin: the macropterous and the brachypterous

Lockheed P-38 Lightning in flight (left) and 1949 Cadillac (right).

Fins had appeared on cars during the inter-war years when genuinely they were added to assist in straight-line stability, a need identified as speeds rose.  The spread to the roads came from the beaches and salt flats where special vehicles were built to pursue the world land speed record (LSR) and by the mid 1920s, speeds in these contests were exceeding 150 mph (240 km/h) and at these velocities, straight-line stability could be a matter of life and death.  The LSR crew drew their inspiration from aviation and that field also provided the motif for Detroit’s early post-war fins, the 1949 Cadillac borrowing its tail features from the Lockheed P-38 Lightning (a US twin-boom fighter first flown in 1939 and built 1941-1945) although, despite the obvious resemblance, the conical additions to the front bumper bar were intended to evoke the image of speeding artillery shells rather than the P-38’s twin propeller bosses.

1962 Ford (England) Zodiac Mark III (left) and 1957 DeSoto Firesweep two-door hardtop (right).

From there, the fins grew although it wasn’t until in 1956 when Chrysler released the next season’s rage that extravagance truly began.  To one extent or another, all Chrysler’s divisions (Plymouth, Dodge, DeSoto, Chrysler, Imperial) adopted the macropterous look and the public responded to what was being described in the press as “futuristic” or “jet-age” (Sputnik had yet to orbit the earth; “space-age” would soon come) with a spike in the corporation’s sales and profits.  The competition took note and it wasn’t long before General Motors (GM) responded (by 1957 some Cadillac fins were already there) although, curiously Ford in the US was always tentative about the fin and their interpretation was always rather brachypterous (unlike their English subsidiary which added surprisingly prominent fins to their Mark III Zephyr & Zodiac (1961-1966).

Macropterous: Lindsay Lohan with wings, generated with AI (artificial intelligence) by Stable Diffusion.

Even at the time the fins attracted criticism although it was just as part of a critique of the newer cars as becoming too big and heavy with a notable level of inefficiency (increasing fuel consumption and little (if any) increase in usable passenger space with most of the bulk consumed by the exterior dimensions, some created by apparently pointless styling features of which the big fins were but one.  The public continued to buy the big cars (one did get a lot of metal for the money) but there was also a boom in the sales of both imported cars (their smaller size among their many charms) but the corporation which later became AMC (American Motor Corporation) enjoyed good business for their generally smaller offerings.  Chrysler and GM ignored Ford’s lack of commitment to the macropterous and during the late 1950s their fin continued to grow upwards (and, in some cases, even outwards) but, noting the flood of imports, decided to join the trend, introducing smaller ranges; whereas in 1955, the majors offered a single basic design, by 1970 there would be locally manufactured “small cars”, sub-compacts”, “compacts” and “intermediates” as well as what the 1955 (which mostly had been sized somewhere between a “compact” and an “intermediate”) evolved into (now named “full-size”, a well-deserved appellation).

1959 Cadillac with four-window hardtop coachwork (the body-style known also as the "flattop" or "flying wing roof") (left) and 1961 Imperial Crown Convertible (right).

It was in 1959-1961 that things became “most macropterous” (peak fin) and the high-water mark of the excess to considered by most to be the 1959 Cadillac, east of the towering fins adorned with a pair of taillights often described as “bullet lights” but, interviewed year later, a member of the General Motors Technical Center (opened in 1956 and one of the mid-century’s great engines of planned obsolescence) claimed the image they had in mind was the glowing exhaust from a rocket in ascent, then often seen in popular culture including film, television and advertising.  However, although a stylistic high, it was the 1961 Imperials which set the mark literally, the tip of those fins standing almost a half inch (12 mm) taller and it was remembered too for the “neo-classical” touch of four free-standing headlights, something others in the industry declined to follow.

Tending to the brachypterous: As the seasons went by, the Cadillac's fins would retreat but would not for decades wholly vanish.

It’s a orthodoxy in the history of design that the fins grew to the point of absurdity and then vanished but that’s not what literally happened in all cases.  Some manufacturers indeed suddenly abandon the motif but Cadillac, perhaps conscious of having nurtured (and in a sense “perfected”) the debut of the 1949 range must have felt more attached because, after 1959, year after year, the fins would become smaller and smaller although decades later, vestigial fins were still obviously part of the language of design.  In Europe, others would also prune.

Macropterous to brachypterous.  Sunbeam Alpine: 1960 Series I (left) and 1966 Series V. 

Built in five series between 1959-1968, the fins on the Sunbeam Alpine would have seemed a good idea in 1957 when the lines were approved but trend didn’t persist and with the release in 1964 of the revised Series IV, the effect was toned down, the restyling achieved in an economical way by squaring off the rake at the rear, this lowering the height of the tips.  Because the release of the Series IV coincided with the debut of the Alpine Tiger (fitted initially with a 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) V8 (and later a 4.7 (289)), all the V8 powered cars used the “low fin” body.

Macropterous to brachypterous. 1961 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE Lang (Long) (left) and 1971 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 coupé.

Regarded by some as a symbol of the way the Wirtschaftswunder (the post war “economic miracle” in the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany)) had ushered away austerity, the (slight) exuberance of the fins which appeared on the Mercedes-Benz W111 (1959-1968) & W112 (1961–1965) seemed almost to embarrass the company, offended by the suggestion they would indulge in a mere “styling trend”.  Although the public soon dubbed the cars the Heckflosse (literally “tail-fins”), the factory insisted they were Peilstege (parking aids or sight-lines (literally "bearing bars")), the construct being peil-, from peilen (take a bearing; find the direction) + Steg (bar) which marked the extent of the bodywork, this to assist while reversing.  That may have been true (the company has never been above a bit of myth-making) but when a coupé and cabriolet was added to the W111 & W112 range, the fins were noticeably smaller, achieving an elegance of line Mercedes-Benz has never matched.  Interestingly, a la Cadillac, when the succeeding sedans (W108-W109 (1965-1972) & W116, (1972-1979)) were released, both retained a small hint of a fin although by 1972 it wasn’t enough even to be called vestigial; the factory said the small deviation from the flat was there to increase structural rigidity.

Macropterous to brachypterous: 1962 Vanden Plas Princess 3 Litre (left) and 1967 Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre R (right).

The Italian design house Pinninfarina took to fins in the late 1950s and applied what really were variations of the same basic design to commissions from Fiat, Lancia, Peugeot and BMC (British Motor Corporation, a conglomerate created by merger in 1952 which brought together Morris, Austin (and soon Austin-Healey), MG, Riley, Wolseley & Vanden Plas under the one corporate umbrella.  There were a several BMC “Farinas” sold under six badges and the ones with the most prominent fins were the “big” Farinas, the most expensive of which were Princess 3 Litre (1959-1960), Vanden Plas Princess 3 Litre (1960-1964) and Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre R (1964-1968); the “R” appended to the 4 Litre’s model name was to indicate its engine (which had begun life as a military unit) was supplied by Rolls-Royce, a most unusual arrangement.  The 4 Litre used the 3 Litre’s body with a number of changes, one of which was a change in the shape and reduction in the size of the rather chunky fins.  Although the frumpy shell remained, the restyling was though quite accomplished though obviously influenced by the Mercedes-Benz W111 & W112 coupés & cabriolets but if one is going to imitate, one should choose the finest.

Quincunx

Quincunx (pronounced kwing-kuhngks or kwin-kuhngks)

(1) An arrangement of five objects, in a square or rectangle, one at each corner and one in the middle.

(2) In formal gardening, five plants placed thus as part of a design,

(3) In forestry, as a baseline pattern, five trees planted in such a shape.

(4) In botany, an overlapping arrangement of five petals or leaves, in which two are interior, two are exterior, and one is partly interior and partly exterior (described as a “quincuncial arrangement” of sepals or petals in the bud.

(5) The pattern of the five-spot on dice, playing cards and dominoes.

(6) In the history of numismatics, a bronze coin minted during the Roman Republic, valued at five-twelfths of an as (five times the value of the uncia); it was marked with five dots.

(7) In geometry, an angle of five-twelfths of a circle.

(8) In astrology An angle of five-twelfths of a circle (or 150°) between two objects (usually planets).

1640s: From the Latin quīncunx (the basis for the construct being quīnque +‎ uncia) which translates literally as “five twelfths”, a reference to a bronze coin minted (circa 211–200 BC) with a five dot pattern and issued by the Roman Republic; it was valued at five twelfths of an as (the Roman standard bronze coin).  Descendants from the Latin include the English quincunx, the French quinconce, the German Quinkunx, the Spanish quincunce and the Portuguese quincunce.  Quinque (the numeric five (5)) was from the From Proto-Italic kwenkwe, from the primitive Indo-European pénkwe, the cognates including the Sanskrit पञ्चन् (páñcan), the Ancient Greek πέντε (pénte), the Old Armenian հինգ (hing), the Gothic fimf and the Old English fīf (from which English ultimately gained “five”).  The basis of the construct of the Latin uncia may have been ūnicus (unique) (from ūnus (one), from the primitive Indo-European óynos) in the sense of twelfths making up the base unit of various ancient systems of measurement) +‎ -ia.  Not all etymologists agree and some prefer a link with the Ancient Greek ὀγκία (onkía) (uncia), from ὄγκος (ónkos) (weight).  Uncia was the name of various units including (1) the Roman ounce (one-twelfth of a Roman pound), (2) the Roman inch (one-twelfth of a Roman foot), (3) a bronze coin minted by the Roman Republic (one-twelfth of an as), (a Roman unit of land area (one-twelfth of a jugerum)) and in the jargon of apothecaries became a synonym of ounce (the British & American avoirdupois unit of mass); it was generally a synonym of twelfth.  In algebra, it was a (now obsolete) numerical coefficient in a binomial.  Quīnque was the source of many modern Romance words for “five” including the French cinq and the Spanish cinco; uncia was the source of both “inch” and “ounce”.  Quincunx is a noun, quincuncial is an adjective and quincuncially is an adverb; the noun plural is quincunxes or quincunces.

Quincunx garden, Wyken Hall, Suffolk, England.

When first it entered English in the 1640s, “quincunx” existed only in the vocabulary of astrologers (astrology then still a respectable science) and it was used to describe planetary alignments at a distance of five signs from one another.  By the 1640s it had migrated to mathematics (particularly geometry) where it was used to define “an arrangement of five objects in a square, one at each corner and one in the middle”, familiar in the five pips on a playing card or spots on a di).  In the 1660s (possibly from dice or cards rather than the fortune-tellers), it was picked up by gardeners to describe the layout of a section of a formal garden in which one plant or shrub was placed at each corner of a square or rectangle with a fifth exactly in the centre (an arrangement in two sets of oblique rows at right angles to each other, a sense known also in the original Latin.  In forestry, use began (as a layout tool for new plantings) early in the eighteenth century.

Lindsay Lohan (born 2 July 1986) joins a list of the illustrious with a Mercury Quincunx MC (a planetary alignment where Mercury is 150^o apart from the Medium Coeli (a Latin phrase which translates as “Midheaven” (“MC” in the jargon of astrologers).  In explaining the significance of the Quincunx MC, the planetary soothsayers note than when two planets lie 150^o apart, “tension is created due to their lack of natural understanding or relation.”  The MC is the point where the cusp of the tenth house is found on a natal (birth) and the MC sign signifies  “one’s public persona”.  Now we know.

Fluffy dice in 1974 Ford Mustang II (left), the color of the dashboard molding emblematic of what was happening in the 1970s.    In continuous production over seven generations since 1964, the Mustang II (1973-1979) is the least fondly remembered iteration (uniquely among Mustangs, in its first season a V8 engine was not even optional) but, introduced some weeks before the first oil embargo was imposed in 1973, it was a great sales success and exceeded the company’s expectations.  Unlike at least some of the models in all other generations, the Mustang II is a classic “Malaise era” car and not a collectable in the conventional sense of the word although they do have a residual value because the front sub-frame with its rack & pinion steering and flexible engine accommodation is prized for all sort of purposes and many have been cannibalized for this assembly alone.  Fluffy dice are available also in designer colors (right) and as well as the familiar dots, there are some with hearts, skulls, handguns, eyes and dollar signs.  Probably, the Mustang II and fluffy dice are a perfect match.

Although the five-dot pattern on a di is known in the industry as the quincunx, the other five faces enjoy rather more prosaic descriptions and most just use the number:

1 (single dot, at the center of the face): The “center dot” or “monad”.

2 (two dots, diagonally opposite each other): The “diagonal pair”.

3 (three dots, forming a diagonal line): The “diagonal trio”.

4 (four dots, arranged in a square pattern: The “square” or “quadrant”.

6 (six dots, arranged in two parallel vertical lines of three dots each): The “double row” or “paired trios”.

US Army five star insignia of (General of the Army) Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961).

The quincunx was one of the layouts considered in 1944 when, for the first time, the US military created five star ranks in the army and navy (there would not be a separate USAF (US Air Force) until 1947).  Eventually a pentagrammatic circle of stars was preferred but the aesthetics of epaulettes were the least of the problems of protocol, the military been much concerned with history and tradition and the tangle wasn’t fully combed out until 1976 when the Congress, the White House, and the Pentagon, acting in succession, raised George Washington (1732–1799; first president of the United States, 1789-1797) to the rank of five star general (he’d retired as a (three star) lieutenant general), back-dating the appointment so he’d for all time be the military’s senior officer.  In 1944, there was also an amusing footnote which, according to legend, resulted in the decision to use the style “general” and not “Marshal” (as many militaries do) because the first to be appointed was George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) and it was thought “Marshal Marshall” would be a bit naff, something Joseph Heller’s (1923-1999) “Major Major” in Catch-22 (1961) would prove.

The quincunx induction system, the Cadillac Le Monstre and the 24 Heures du Mans, 1950

Living up to the name: The 1950 Cadillac Le Monstre.

The two Cadillacs which in 1950 raced at Le Mans were mechanically similar but visually, could have been from different planets.  The more conventional Petit Pataud was a Series 61 coupe with only minor modification and it gained its nickname (the translation “clumsy puppy” best captures the spirit) because to the French it looked a lumbering thing but, as its performance in the race would attest, Cadillac’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 (which would grow to 429 cubic inches (7.0 litres) before it was retired in 1967) meant it was faster than it looked.  Underneath the second entrant (Le Monstre obviously needing no translation but used in the sense of “monstrosity” rather than “large”) there was also a Series 61 but the body had been replaced by something more obviously aerodynamic although few, then or now, would call it “conventionally attractive”.  Although Le Monstre seemed very much in the tradition of the “cucumber-shaped” Mercedes-Benz SSKL which had won the 1932 race at Berlin’s unique AVUS circuit, the lines were the result of testing a one twelfth (Uncia in the Latin) scale wooden model in a wind-tunnel used usually to optimize the shape crop dusters and other slow-flying airplanes.  Presumably that explains the resemblance to a section of an airplane’s wing (a shape designed to encourage lift), something which would have been an issue had higher speeds been attained but even on the long (6 km (3.7 mile)) Mulsanne Straight, there was in 1950 enough power only to achieve around 210 km/h (130) mph although as a drag-reduction exercise it must have contributed to the 22 km/h (13 mph) advantage it enjoyed over Petit Pataud, something Le Monstre’s additional horsepower alone could not have done and remarkably, even with the minimalist aluminium skin it wasn’t much lighter than the standard-bodied coupe because this was no monocoque; the robust Cadillac chassis was retained with a tube-frame added to support the panels and provide the necessary torsional stiffness.

Le Monstre's 331 cubic inch V8 with its unusual (and possibly unique) five-carburetor induction system in a quincunx layout.

Some of the additional horsepower came from the novel "quincunx" induction system.  Le Monstre’s V8 was configured with five carburettors, the idea being that by use of progressive throttle-linkages, when ultimate performance wasn’t required the car would run on a single (central) carburettor, the other four summoned on demand and in endurance racing, improved fuel economy can be more valuable than additional power.  That’s essentially how most four-barrel carburettors worked, two venturi usually providing the feed with all four opened only at full throttle and Detroit would later refine the model by applying “méthode Le Monstre” to the triple carburettor systems many used between 1957-1971.  As far as is known, the only time a manufacturer flirted with the idea of a five carburetor engine was Rover which in the early 1960s was experimenting with a 2.5 (153 cubic inch) litre in-line five cylinder which was an enlargement of their 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) four.  Fuel-injection was the obvious solution but the systems then were prohibitively expensive (for the market segment Rover was targeting) so the prototypes ended up with two carburettors feeding three cylinders and one the other two, an arrangement as difficult to keep in tune as it sounds.  Rover’s purchase of the aluminium 3.5 litre (214 cubic inch) V8 abandoned by General Motors (GM) meant the project was terminated and whatever the cylinder count, mass-produced fuel injection later made any configuration possible.  Five carburettors wasn’t actually the highest count seen in the pre fuel-injection era, Ferrari and Lamborghini both using six (done also by motorcycle manufacturers such as Honda and Benelli) and Moto-Guzzi in the 1950s fielded a 500 cm³ Grand-Prix bike with the memorable component count of 8 cylinders, 4 camshafts, 16 valves & 8 carburetors.  The early prototypes of Daimler’s exquisite hemi-head V8s (1959-1969) were also built with eight carburettors because the original design was based on a motorcycle power-plant, the reason why they were planned originally as air-cooled units.

Le Monstre ahead of Petit Pataud, Le Mans, 1950.  At the fall of the checkered flag, the positions were reversed. 

Motor racing is an unpredictable business and, despite all the effort lavished on Le Monstre, in the 1950 Le Mans 24 hour, it was the less ambitious Petit Pataud which did better, finishing a creditable tenth, the much modified roadster coming eleventh having lost many laps while being dug from the sand after an unfortunate excursion from the track.  Still, the results proved the power and reliability of Cadillac’s V8 and Europe took note: over the next quarter century a whole ecosystem would emerge, crafting high-priced trans-Atlantic hybrids which combined elegant European coachwork with cheap, powerful, reliable US V8s, the lucrative fun lasting until the first oil crisis began in 1973.

Boutique

Boutique (pronounced boo-teek]

(1) A small shop, especially one that sells fashionable clothes and accessories or a special selection of other merchandise.

(2) Within a larger store, a small specialty department.

(3) As a modifier, any (usually small(ish)) business offering customized service (boutique law firm; boutique investment house; boutique winery etc).

(4) In informal use, a small business, department etc, specializing in one aspect of a larger industry (such as the “mining sector analysts”, “transport sector analysts” etch within a financial services research organization).

(5) Of, designating, denoting or characteristic of a small, specialized or exclusive producer (sometimes of the bespoke) or business (either attributive or self-applied).

1767: From the French boutique, from the Middle French, probably from the Old Provençal botica & botiga, from the Latin apotheca (storehouse), ultimately from the Ancient Greek apothēkē (apothecary) (storehouse).  The original meaning in the 1760s was “a small retail outlet (shop) of any sort” boutique, an inheritance from the fourteenth century French source and it wasn’t until the early 1950s it assumed the still familiar sense of “trendy little shop selling fashion items”.  The link with the mid-fourteenth century noun apothecary lay in its sense of “shopkeeper”, the notion of one being a place where is stored and sold “stores, compounds & medicaments (what is now described variously as “a pharmacy: or “chemist shop”) emerged quickly and soon became dominant.  The word was from the French apothicaire, from the Old French apotecaire, from the Late Latin apothecarius (storekeeper), from the Latin apotheca (storehouse)m from the Ancient Greek apothēkē (barn, storehouse (literally “a place where things are put away”)), the construct being apo- (away) + thēkē (receptacle (from a suffixed form of primitive Indo-European root dhe- (to set, put)).  The same Latin word produced French boutique, the Spanish bodega and the German Apotheke; the cognate compounds produced the Sanskrit apadha- (concealment) and the Old Persian apadana- (palace) and one quirk was that had the usual conventions been followed, the Latin apotheca would have emerged in French as avouaie.  The French masculine noun boutiquier (the plural boutiquiers; the feminine boutiquière) translates as “shopkeeper, storekeeper”.  Boutique is a noun & adjective and boutiquey & boutiquelike are adjectives; the noun plural is boutiques.  Of the adjectival use (resembling or characteristic of a boutique (however defined), the comparative is “more boutiquey”, the superlative “most boutiquey”).

Lindsay Lohan at the Singer22 boutique (described as the company’s “flagship store”), Long Island, New York, March 2011 (left) and at the opening of the Philipp Plein (b 1978) boutique, Mykonos, Greece, June 2019 (right).  Among fashion retailers, the term “boutique” is used both of high-end designer outlets and mass-market, high volume operations.  What the word implies can thus vary from “exclusive; expensive” to “trendy, edgy, celebrity influenced” etc.

Modern commerce understood the linguistic possibilities and that included the portmanteaus (1) fruitique (the construct being fruit + (bout)ique) (a trendy (ie high-priced) fruit shop in an area of high SES (socio-economic status)) and (2) postique (the construct being post(al) +‎ (bout)ique).  Originally, postique was a trademark of the USPS (US Postal Service) but it came to be used of retail stores selling items relating to postal mail (stamps, stationery and such).  One interesting trend in middle-class retailing has been the niche of the “boutiquey” stationery shop where the focus is on elegant versions of what are usually utilitarian office consumables; impressionistically, the client base appears almost exclusively female.  The “e-boutique” is an on-line retailer using the term to suggest its lines of garments are targeting a younger demographic.  The term “boutique camping” (services offering “going camping” without most of the discomforts (ie with air-conditioned tents, sanitation, running hot water etc) never caught on because the portmanteau “glamping” (the construct being glam(our) + cam(ping)) was preferred and, as a general principle, in popular use, a word with two syllables will tend to prevail over one with four.

By the 1970s, the term “boutique” had spread in fashion retailing to the extent it was part of general language; it tended to be understood as meaning “exclusive, small-scale fashion stores” which were in some way niche players (more on the cutting edge of design, specializing in a certain segment et al) in a way which contrasted with the large department stores.  The word gained a cachet and by the 1980s the “boutique hotel” was a thing, probably meaning something like “We are not the Hilton”.  That may be unfair and the classic boutique hotel was smaller, sometimes in some way quirky (such as being in a heritage building) and not necessarily cheaper than the major high-end chains.  The advertizing for boutique hotels often emphasized “individuality” rather than the “cookie-cutter” approach of the majors although the economics of running a hotel did conspire against things being too different and the standardization operations like Hilton or Hyatt offered around the world was a genuine attraction for many and not just the corporate clients.  Additionally, what the majors had done was raise the level of expectation and there was thus a baseline of similarity on which boutique players had to build.  Some successfully marketed the “difference” but structurally, there are more similarities than differences.  In the 1990s, the metaphorical sense was extended to just about anything in commerce which could be marketed as “specialized” although initially the most obvious differentiation was probably that the operations so dubbed tended to be “smaller and not part of a large multi-national”.  Thus appeared boutique law firms, boutique investment house, boutique wineries, boutique architects and such.

Boutique Hotel Donauwalzer, Hernalser Gürtel 27, 1170 Wien, Austria.

Although the use of the descriptor “boutique” didn’t become mainstream until the twenty-first century, “boutique” car manufacturers have existed since the early days of the industry and there have been literally hundreds (some of which didn’t last long enough to sell a single machine) and while a few endured to become major manufacturers or be absorbed by larger concerns, most fell victim either the economic vicissitudes which periodically cull those subsisting on discretionary expenditure or in more recent decades, the increasingly onerous web of laws and regulations which consigned to history the idea of "real" cars emerging from cottage industries.  Today, there are boutique operations and they tend to be either (1) parts-bin specialists which combine a bespoke body and interior fittings with components (engines, transmissions, suspension) from the majors or (2) those who modify existing vehicles (Ferraris & Porsches especially favored) with more power, bling or a combination of both.  Either way, the price tag can reach seven figures (in US$ terms).

The established high-end manufacturers noted the industry and although many had long offered customization services, the approach is now more institutionalized and exists as separate departments in separate buildings, there to cater to (almost) every whim of a billionaire (since the expansion of the money supply in the last quarter century they’re now a more numerous and still growing population).  The way the cost of a Porsche, Bentley or Ferrari can grow alarmingly from the list price (and these are not always the fiction some suggest) as the options & “personalizations” accumulate has attracted some wry comment but it’s not something new and the values are relative:  In the late 1960s, a Chevrolet Camaro might be advertized at around US$2800 but by the time the buyer had ticked the desired boxes on the option list, the invoice might read US$4400 or more.  Compared with that, adding US$55,000 in different paint, leather and wheels to a US$350.000 Ferrari starts to make LBJ era Detroit look like a bunch of horse thieves.

Monteverdi’s boutique Swiss concern

Peter Monteverdi (1934–1998 (and believed not in the lineage of Italian composer Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643)) was a successful Swiss businessman and a less than successful race driver.  He was also one of the many disgruntled customers of Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) and one of several inspired by the experience to produce cars to compete with those made by Il Commendatore.  For a decade between 1967-1976, his eponymous manufacturing concern (unique in Switzerland) produced over a thousand big, elegant (and genuinely fast) coupés, convertibles and sedans, all with the solidly reliable drive-train combination of Chrysler’s 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8, coupled usually with the TorqueFlite automatic transmission and unlike some of the less ambitious boutique players in the era, Peter Monteverdi included engineering innovations such as the DeDion tube rear suspension (which had the advantage of keeping the rear wheels parallel in all circumstances, something desirable given the torque of the 440 and the tyre technology of the era).  In the post oil shock world of stagflation, it couldn’t go on and it didn’t, the last of the big machines leaving the factory in 1976 although Monteverdi did follow a discursive path until production finally ended in 1982; by then it was more (lawful) “chop shop” than boutique but those ten golden years did bequeath some memorable creations:

1970 Monteverdi Hai 450 SS.

The Lamborghini Miura (1966-1973) had fundamental flaws which progressively were ameliorated as production continued but the design meant some problems remained inherent.  People who drove it at high speed sometimes became acquainted with those idiosyncrasies but for those who just looked at the things forgave it because it was stunning achievement in aggression and beauty; it validated the notion of the mid- engined supercar.  Noting the Miura and the rumors of a similar machine from Ferrari (the prototype of which would be displayed at the 1971 Turin Auto Show and be released two years later as the 365 GT4 BB (Berlinetta Boxer the cover-story for the “BB” dsignation, the truth more exotic)), Peter Monteverdi built the Hai 450 SS (painted in a fetching “Purple Mist”) which created a sensation on the factory’s stand at the 1970 Geneva Motor Show.  “Hai” is German for “shark”; the muscular lines certainly recall the beasts  and the specification meant it lived up to the name.  Powered not by the 440 but instead Chrysler’s 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Street Hemi V8 (a version of their NASCAR racing engine tamed for street use) and using a ZF five-speed manual gearbox, the claimed top speed was a then impressive 180 mph (290 km/h), some 6-8 mph (10-13 km/h) faster than any Ferrari or Lamborghini and although the number seems never to have been verified, it was at least plausible.  Tantalizing though it was, although orders were received (the price in the UK was quoted at Stg£12,950, some 20% more than a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow), series production was never contemplated and Peter Monteverdi was quoted explaining his reticence by saying “This car is so special you can’t deliver it to everybody.” So although over the years four were built (two with significant differences in mechanical specification) it was only the original prototype which ended up in private hands, the others retained by the factory (displayed at the Monteverdi museum in Binningen, Basel-Landschaft until it closed in 2016).  For trivia buffs, the Hai was the only car powered by a Street Hemi ever to have "factory-fitted" air-conditioning. 

1975 Monteverdi Palm Beach.

By 1975 it was obvious the writing was on the wall for the way things had been done in the era of US$2 a barrel oil but the Palm Beach, shown at that year’s Geneva Motor Show was a fine final fling.  The factory had had a convertible in the catalogue for years but the Palm Beach was different and rather than being a Monteverdi Berlinetta with roadster coachwork (as the appearance would suggest), it was based on the older High Speed 375 C platform with which the company had built its reputation.  It was thus the familiar combination of the 440 and TorqueFlite and the styling updates were an indication of how things would have progressed had events in the Middle East not conspired against it.  Although promotional material was prepared for the show and even a price was quoted (124,000 Swiss Francs), the Palm Beach remained an exquisite one-off.

Monteverdis in the last days of the big blocks: 375/4 (front), 375/L (centre) and Palm Beach (rear).

Others in the trans-Atlantic ecosystem offered four-door sedans including Facel Vega, Iso and De Tomaso but none offered a 7.2 litre big-block V8 or rendered it in such a dramatic low-slung package as the Monteverdi 375/4.  First shown at the 1971 Geneva Motor Show, production didn’t begin until the following year but the big machine made an impression on the press; big and heavy though it was, the aerodynamics must have been better than a first glance would suggest because testers who took it to Germany to run on the Autobahn (really its natural environment), found it would run to a genuine 144 mph, (232 km/h), out-pacing even the Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL 6.3 which had for some time reigned as the fastest four door (although the fastest of the Maserati Quattroportes might contest that).  Regular production of the 375/4 ended in 1973 although it remained available on special order with some demand from the Middle East (where the price of fuel was wasn’t much thought about when filling up) and it’s believed as many as 34 had been built when the last was delivered in 1975.  The last of them looked as good as the first although it wasn’t as fast, the later 440s detuned to meet US emission control rules although 120 mph (195 km/h) was still possible.