Suffrage

Suffrage (pronounced suhf-rij)

(1) The right to vote, especially in a publicly contested, democratic elections; the franchise.

(2) The exercise of such a right; casting a vote.

(3) In ecclesiastical use, a prayer, especially a short intercessory prayer (especially those offered for the faithful dead) or a short petition (such as those after the creed in matins and evensong.

(4) Aid, intercession (now rare).

(5) Testimony; attestation; witness; approval (now rare).

(6) The collective opinion of a body of persons (archaic and probably extinct).

1350–1400: From the Middle English suffrage (intercessory prayers or pleas on behalf of another), from the thirteenth century Old French sofrage (plea, intercession), from the from Medieval Latin, from the Latin suffragium (voting tablet, a vote cast in an assembly (for a law or candidate), an act of voting or the exercise of the right to vote, the decision reached by a vote, an expression of approval, influence or promotion on behalf of a candidate), the construct being suffrag(ari) (genitive suffrāgiī or suffrāgī) (to express public support, vote or canvass for, support) + -ium (the noun suffix).  The –ium suffix (used most often to form adjectives) was applied as (1) a nominal suffix (2) a substantivisation of its neuter forms and (3) as an adjectival suffix.  It was associated with the formation of abstract nouns, sometimes denoting offices and groups, a linguistic practice which has long fallen from fashion.  In the New Latin, as the neuter singular morphological suffix, it was the standard suffix to append when forming names for chemical elements.  The derived forms included nonsuffrage, presuffrage, prosuffrage & antisuffrage (the latter a once well-populated field).  Suffrage, suffragist, suffragette, suffragettism & suffragent are nouns and suffraged is an adjective; the noun plural is suffrages.

The sense in English of “vote” or “right to vote” was derived directly from the Classical Latin and it came by the late nineteenth century to be used with modifiers, chosen depending on the campaign being advocated (manhood suffrage, universal suffrage, women's suffrage, negro suffrage etc and the forms were sometimes combined (universal manhood suffrage).  Because the case for women became the most prominent of the political movements, “suffrage” became the verbal shorthand (ie technically a clipping of woman suffrage).The meaning “a vote for or against anything” was in use by the 1530s and by the turn of the century this had assume the specific sense “a vote or voice in deciding a question or in a contest for office”.  By the 1660s, widely it was held to mean “act of voting in a representative government” and this is the origin of the modern idea of the franchise: “the political right to vote as a member of a body” codified in 1787 in the US US Constitution (in reference to the states).

Exercising her suffrage: Wearing “I voted” sticker, Lindsay Lohan leaves polling station after casting her vote in the 2008 US presidential election, West Hollywood, 4 November 2008.  In California, the Democratic ticket (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017) & Joe Biden (b 1942; US president 2021-2025) took gained all 55 electors in the Electoral College with 8,274,473 votes (61.01%) against the 5,011,781 (36.95%) gained by the Republican ticket (John McCain (1936–2018) & Sarah Palin (b 1964).

In zoology the suffrago (as a learned borrowing from Latin suffrāgō (the pastern, or hock)) describes the joint between the tibia and tarsus, such as the hock of a horse's hind leg or the heel of a bird.  Always rare (and now probably extinct), the companion term in clinical use was suffraginous, from the Latin suffraginosus (diseased in the hock), from suffrāgō, used in the sense of “of or relating to the hock of an animal”.  So, there’s an etymological relationship between English noun “suffrage” (in zoology, the joint between the tibia and tarsus) and “suffrage” (an individual's right to vote) and while there are many strange linkages in the language, that one seems weirder than most.  The anatomical term describes what is essentially the hock in quadrupeds (although it was used also of birds) and that was from the Classical Latin, suffrāgō (ankle-bone, hock or the part of the leg just above the heel) and traditionally, etymologists analyzed this as related to sub- (under) + a base meaning “break, fracture” or “support” although there were scholars who connected it with frag- (to break) from frangere (to break).  The functionalists weren’t impressed by that, suggesting it was a transferred anatomical term.

The Suffragist, 7 July, 2017.

Printed originally in 1913 as a single-sheet pamphlet, in November that year The Suffragist was first issued as weekly, eight-page tabloid newspaper, noted for its cover art which was a kind of proto-agitprop.  A classic single-issue political movement, the pamphlets had been produced by the CU (Congressional Union), an affiliate of the NAWSA (National American Woman Suffrage Association) but The Suffragist was an imprint of the CUWS (Congressional Union for Woman Suffrage), created (with a unique legal personage to avoid corporate liability) as a publicity and activist organ; in 1917 it became the NWP (National Woman's Party).  After its aims were in 1918 realised, The Suffragist ceased publication and the activists shifted their attention to the promotion of the ERA (Equal Rights Amendment), some which, more than a century on, has still not been ratified and has thus never been interpolated into the constitution.

Suffrage came ultimately from the suffrāgium (which had a number of senses relating to “voting”) writers from Antiquity documented their takes on the etymology.  In De lingua latina libri XXV (On the Latin Language in 25 Books), the Roman scholar Varro (Marcus Terentius Varro, 116–27 BC) held it arose metaphorically from suffrāgō (ankle-bone), the rationale being that votes originally were cast pebbles, sherds (now more commonly called “shards”) or other small tokens, possibly with astragali (knuckle or ankle-bones typically from sheep or goats) used like dice or counters.  Animal bones widely were used for many purposes, Pliny the Elder (24-79) in his encyclopaedic Naturalis historia (Natural History (37 thematic books in ten conceptual volumes)) noted people re-purposing astragali for tasks as diverse as teaching arithmetic, gambling, divination, or decision-making.  The Roman statesman Cicero (106-43 BC) seems not directly to have commented on the etymology, in his De Legibus (On the Laws) using suffrāgium in the common sense of “voting” & “vote” applied it also as a rhetorical device to suggest “support” so while not supporting the link with bones, nor does he contradict the popular notion that as an ankle-bone supports the human structure, votes support a candidate.

The Suffragist, 15 September, 1917.

The medieval grammarians also took an interest, Isidore of Seville (circa 560-636) covering all bases by noting (1) suffrāgium’s link with fragor (breaking) implied the idea of “breaking one’s voice” in approval (voting then often done in town squares “by the voice” and (2) the role of the ankle-bone in supporting the as a vote cast supports a proposition or candidate in an election.  Because only fragments of texts from thousands of years ago remain extant, it’s impossible to be emphatic about how such things happened but the consensus among modern etymologists appears to favour the purely metaphorical “support” rather than any use of bones as electoral tokens or calculation devices.  Better documented is the migration of suffrāgium to ecclesiastical use, entering Church Latin to use used to mean “prayers of intercession”; it was from here the English suffrage first entered the language.  As the Roman world Christianized, many words were re-purposed in a religious context and suffrāgium was picked up in the sense of “spiritual support”, manifested in prayers of intercession which originally were those offered for the “faithful dead”: in Confessiones (Confessions, 397-400), Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430) wrote of suffragia sanctorum (the suffrages of the saints) by which he meant their intercessory prayers but, as was not uncommon, although the “masses for the dead” remained the standard, there was some theological mission creep and the prayers could assume a wider vista, extending also to the living.

Heartfelt advice in 1918 from a “suffragette wife” to young ladies contemplating marriage.

The Old French sofrage came directly from Church Latin, entering Middle English in the fourteenth century with suffrages being prayers of intercessions, often described as “petitions” to God or (in the case of specific topics) to the relevant saint or saints and “suffrage” seems to have entered the vernacular, Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) using the word merely as a synonym for “prayers” of whatever type.  Having thus arrived in the Church, the use was extended to the ecclesiastical structure, the first suffragan bishops appointed in the late 1500s, their role being a “bishop who assists another bishop” and the role seems to have been envisaged as something of a clerical plateau, intended as an appointment for one either “unsuitable” for an ordinary jurisdiction or with no desire to ascend the hierarchy.  The use came directly from the thirteenth century Old French suffragan, from the Medieval Latin suffraganeus (an assistant) which was a noun use of the adjective, (assisting, supporting) from the Latin suffragium (support).  The title endures to this day although between denominations there can be variations in the role (ie job description) including some being appointed as assistants to bishops while others directly administer geographical regions within a supervising bishop’s diocese.  That means the title alone does not describe the nature of the office and although a priest may be styled Diocesan bishop, Titular bishop, Coadjutor bishop, Auxiliary bishop or Suffragan Bishop, not all of the same type necessarily fulfil the same duties and there may be overlap.  While engaged in wartime cryptographic work for the UK government, the troubled mathematician Dr Alan Turing (1912-1954) became well-acquainted with the organizational structure of the British Army and was struck by the similarities between that institution and the Church of England as described in Anthony Trollope’s (1815-1882) The Chronicles of Barsetshire (published in a series of six novels between 1855-1867).  Ever the mathematician, Dr Turing devised a table, having concluded a lieutenant-colonel was a dean while a major-general was a bishop.  A brigadier was a suffragan bishop, the rational for that being they were the “cheapest kind of bishop”.

The Suffragist, 3 October, 1917.

It was the “re-discovery” of the Classical world (ironically often through the archives or writings of Islamic scholars) during the Renaissance and Reformation that Western scholars and translators re-visited the Latin sources, reviving the political sense of suffrāgium into English, restoring “vote” and “right to vote” alongside what had become the standard (religious) sense.  Even then, although there was in most places rarely a wide franchise, voting did happen (among a chosen few) and by the seventeenth century “suffrage” (a vote in an election) was part of common English use and in the 1700s & 1800s, as various forces began to coalesce into democratic movements, it assumed the meaning “a right to vote” which evolved gradually (via manhood suffrage, woman suffrage, negro suffrage etc) into the now familiar “universal adult suffrage”. In English, suffrage has thus enjoyed a palimpsestic past, its ancestral roots anatomical, adapted in antiquity for matters electoral, taken up in Christendom as a form of prayer before returning again with a use in democratic politics.

The most famous derived from was of course the noun suffragette which seems first to have been appeared in print in the UK in 1906, used as a term of derision (by a man).  It was an opportunist coining which can be deconstructed as a (etymologically incorrect) feminine form of the noun suffragist (an advocate of the grant or extension of political suffrage) but it owed its existence to the women who in the UK began to take militant action.  Whereas a suffragist might have been someone (male or female) who wrote learned letters on the subject to the editor of The Times, the suffragette chained herself to the railings outside Parliament House and engaged in other forms of civil disobedience with at least one fatality recorded.

The end of civilization as men knew it: Postcard marking the granting of voting rights to women by the colonial government in New Zealand (1893), printed & published in England by the Artist's Suffrage League, Chelsea, London.

Only four countries: New Zealand, Australia, Finland & Norway (and 11 US states) extended the franchise to women prior to World War I.  France (birthplace of “Liberté, égalité, fraternité”) denied women the vote until after World War II (1939-1945), Charles de Gaulle's (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) provisional government in Algiers granting “full suffrage” on 21 April 1944 with the first exercise of the right in the municipal elections of 29 April, 1945.  Swiss women gained the right to vote (at the federal level) in 1971, following a national referendum in which a majority approved the idea.  At the cantonal (regional) level, some cantons had earlier granted women voting rights, Vaud the first in 1959.  The last was Appenzell Innerrhoden which did so only to comply with a ruling by the Swiss Federal Supreme Court.

As the campaign stepped up, techniques were borrowed from anarchists and revolutionaries including fire-bombings of institutions of “the establishment”; if imprisoned, the suffragettes would stage hunger strikes compelling the home secretary to order either their release or force-feeding (a practice previously most associated with lunatic asylums).  Although the suffragettes generated international publicity and encouraged similar movements in other places, despite New Zealand having in 1893 having granted the vote to women on the same basis as men without the country having descended into some kind of feminized Hell, little progress was made and it was only the social and economic disruptions brought about by World War I which induced change, women over 30 able to vote in elections and be elected to parliament in 1918.  In 1928, this was extended to all women over 21, thus aligning their franchise with that which men had since 1918 enjoyed.  The 1928 settlement remains the classic definition of “universal suffrage” in the sense of “all adults” and all that has changed is the threshold age has been lowered to 18 although the UK government has suggested it will seek further to lower this to 16.  If that’s enacted, it’ll still be less permissive that what the ayatollahs (not usually thought paragons of liberalism) in Iran permitted during the 1980s when 15 year olds got the vote.

"Love, honor and obey" was a bride's traditional wedding vow but in the nuclear weapons treaty business between the US & USSR the principle was: "trust but verify".  

As the meme-makers knew, even after women voting became a thing, some husbands knew they still had to check to make sure their wives got it right:  Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) verifying the vote of Melania Trump (b 1970, US First Lady 2017-2021 and since 2025) while exercising her “secret ballot” in the 2016 US presidential election, Polling Station 59 (a school), Manhattan, New York, 8 November 2016.

The –ette suffix was from the Middle English -ette, a borrowing from the Old French -ette, from the Latin -itta, the feminine form of -ittus.  It was used to form nouns meaning a smaller form of something and the use in English to create informal feminine forms has long upset some, including Henry Fowler (1858–1933) who in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) condemned the formation of “suffragette”: “A more regrettable formation than others such as leaderette & flannelette, in that it does not even mean a sort of suffrage as they mean a sort of leader & of flannel, & therefore tends to vitiate the popular conception of the termination's meaning. The word itself may now be expected to die, having lost its importance; may its influence on word-making die with it!”  Whether one might read into that that damnation that Henry Fowler regretted women getting the vote can be pondered but to be fair, the old linguistic curmudgeon may have been a proto-feminist who approved.  There were anyway some reactionaries who became converted to the cause.  After a satisfactory election result, Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was reminded by his wife Clementine Churchill (1885–1977) that he’d received more votes from women than from men, having apparently been forgiven for having once been in the vanguard of the opposition to woman suffrage.  “Quite right”, cheerfully he agreed; a practical democrat, he by then welcomed votes regardless of their origin.

Woman Suffrage Headquarters, Euclid Avenue, Cleveland Ohio, 1912.

The word “suffrage” came by the late 1860s to be attached to activists advocating extending the franchise to women, “woman suffragist” & “female suffragist” both used in US publications and the divergence in the movement was reflected in the UK by the adoption of terms “manhood suffragist” (by at least 1866) and “woman suffragist” (by 1871) although the first reference of the latter was to actions in the US, the existence of the breed in England not acknowledged for a further three years.  Historically, both “woman suffrage” & “women's suffrage” were used but the former overwhelmingly was the standard phrasing late in the 1800s and into the next century when the matter became a great political issue.  To modern eyes “woman suffrage” looks awkwardly wrong but is grammatically correct, “woman” used as a noun adjunct (ie a noun modifying a following noun).  Singular noun adjuncts are common such as “student union” even though the in institution has a membership of many students.  In English, a singular noun can function attributively (like an adjective) to describe a category or class (manpower, horse racing etc).  The possessive (women’s suffrage) emphasizes ownership: the notion of suffrage (in the linguistic sense) “belonging” to women and in modern use that that appears to be the common form and “woman suffrage” was a formal, abstract construction from more exacting times, reflected in uses like “manhood suffrage”, “child labor”, “slave trade” etc.  In structural linguistics, the shift to a preference for possessive forms (workers’ unions, children’s rights, women’s movement etc) is thought a marker of the increasingly fashionable concepts of agency and belonging.

“Kaiser Wilson” protest sign criticizing Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921) for not keeping his 1916 election “promise” to fight for woman suffrage: “Have you forgotten your sympathy with the poor Germans because they were not self-governed?  20,000,000 American women are not self-governed.  Take the beam out of your own eye.”  The quote: “Take the beam out of your own eye” comes from Biblical scripture:

Matthew 7:3-5 (King James Version, (KJV, 1611))

3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?

4 Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye?

5 Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.

What’s discussed in Matthew 7:3-5 is hypocrisy, the metaphor being a speck of dust in one’s brother's eye and a plank in one's own and the teaching is one should first rectify their own significant flaws (the “plank”) before criticizing the minor flaws of others (the “speck”).  What reading the passage should do is encourage humility and self-reflection, persuading individuals to acknowledge their own shortcomings before judging others.  The passage was part of the Sermon on the Mount, regarded by Christians as a central element in Christ’s moral teachings and Woodrow Wilson, the son of a preacher and himself a noted (if selective) moralist would have well acquainted with the text.

Watched by an approving comrade Vyacheslav Molotov (1890–1986; Soviet foreign minister 1939-1949 & 1953-1956), comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) casts his vote in the 1937 election for the Supreme Soviet.  To the left, Comrade Marshal Kliment Voroshilov (1881–1969) watches Comrade Nikolai Yezhov (1895–1940, head of the NKVD 1936-1938).

Those voting in 1937 may have had high hopes for the future because, read literally, the 1936 Constitution of the Soviet Union (adopted 5 December 1936) described a democratic utopia.  Unfortunately, within months, comrade Stalin embarked on his Great Purge and turned his country into a kind of combination of prison camp and abattoir, many of those involved in drafting the constitution either sent to the Gulag or shot.  In 1937 the CPSU (Communist Party of the Soviet Union) was declared to have won 99% of the vote so it was not an exceptional result but the photograph is unusual in that it’s one of the few in which the usually dour comrade Molotov is smiling.  It was comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924) who dubbed Molotov “stone ass” because of his famous capacity (rare among the Bolsheviks) to sit for hours at his desk and process the flow of paperwork the CPSU’s bureaucracy generated.  Precise in every way, Molotov would correct those who suggested Lenin’s moniker had been “iron ass” but, disapproving of “shameful bureaucratism”, he may have used several variants in the same vein and in another nod to Molotov’s centrality in the administrative machinery of government, he was known also as “comrade paper-clip”.

On paper, between 1936-1991, the Supreme Soviet was the highest institution of state authority in the Soviet Union (1922-1991) but was in reality a “rubber stamp parliament” which existed only to ratify, adding a veneer of legality to laws sent down by the executive, controlled exclusively by the CPSU although it was valued for photo-opportunities, enthralled delegates always seen attentively listening to comrade Stalin’s speeches.  On election night comrade Stalin was quoted in the Soviet press as saying: “Never in the history of the world have there been such really free and really democratic elections -- never!  History knows no other example like it...our universal elections will be carried out as the freest elections and the most democratic compared with elections in any other country in the world.  Universal elections exist and are also held in some capitalist countries, so-called democratic countries.  But in what atmosphere are elections held there?… In an atmosphere of class conflicts, in an atmosphere of class enmity.”  The statement often attributed to comrade Stalin: “It's not who votes that counts, it's who counts the votes” probably was apocryphal but indicative of how he did things and his psephological model has been an inspiration to figures such as Saddam Hussein (1937–2006; president of Iraq 1979-2003) and Kim Jong-Un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011).

Blazon

Blazon (pronounced bley-zuhn)

(1) In heraldry, an escutcheon or coat of arms or a banner depicting a coat of arms.

(2) In heraldry, a description (verbal or written or in an image) of a coat of arms.

(3) In heraldry, a formalized language for describing a coat of arms (the heraldic description of armorial bearings).

(4) An ostentatious display, verbal or otherwise.

(5) A description or recording (especially of the good qualities of a person or thing).

(6) In literature, verses which dwelt upon and described various parts of a woman's body (usually in admiration). 

(7) Conspicuously or publicly to set forth; display; proclaim.

(8) To adorn or embellish, especially brilliantly or showily.

(9) To depict (heraldic arms or the like) in proper form and color.

(10) To describe a coat of arms.

1275-1300: From the late thirteenth century Middle English blazon (armorial bearings, coat of arms), from the twelfth century Old French blason (shield, blazon (also “collar bone”).  Of the words in the Romance languages (the Spanish blason, Italian blasone, Portuguese brasao & Provençal blezo, the first two are said to be French loan-words and the origins of all remain uncertain.  According to the OED (Oxford English Dictionary), the suggestion by nineteenth century French etymologists of connections with Germanic words related to English blaze is dubious because of the sense disparities.  The verb blazon (to depict or paint (armorial bearings) dates from the mid sixteenth century and was either (or both) from the noun or the French blasonner (from the French noun).  In English, it had earlier in the 1500s been used to mean “descriptively to set forth; descriptively” especially (by at least the 1530s) specifically “to vaunt or boast” and in that sense it was probably at least influenced by the English blaze.  Blazon & blazoning are nouns & verbs, blazoner, blazonry & blazonment are nouns and blazoned & blazonable are adjectives; the noun plural is blazons.

A coat of arms, possibly of dubious provenance. 

The now more familiar verb emblazon (inscribe conspicuously) seems first to have been used around the 1590s in the sense of “extol” and the still common related forms (emblazoning; emblazoned) emerged almost simultaneously.  The construct of emblazon was en- +‎ blazon (from the Old French blason (in its primary sense of “shield”).  The en- prefix was from the Middle English en- (en-, in-), from the Old French en- (also an-), from the Latin in- (in, into).  It was also an alteration of in-, from the Middle English in-, from the Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in (in).  Both the Latin & Germanic forms were from the primitive Indo-European en (in, into).  The intensive use of the Old French en- & an- was due to confluence with Frankish intensive prefix an- which was related to the Old English intensive prefix -on.  It formed a transitive verb whose meaning is to make the attached adjective (1) in, into, (2) on, onto or (3) covered.  It was used also to denote “caused” or as an intensifier.  The prefix em- was (and still is) used before certain consonants, notably the labials “b” & “p”.

Google ngram: It shouldn’t be surprising there seems to have been a decline in the use of “blazon” while “emblazoned” has by comparison, in recent decades, flourished.  That would reflect matters of heraldry declining in significance, their appearance in printed materials correspondingly reduced in volume.  However, 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.

Self referential emblazoning: Lindsay Lohan's selfie of her modeling a sweater by Ashish, her visage emblazoned in sequins, London, November 2014.

Impressionistically though this assumption is, few would doubt “blazon” is now rare while “emblazoned” is far from uncommon.  While “emblazon” began with the meaning “that which the emblazoner does” (ie (1) to adorn with prominent, (2) to inscribe upon and (3) to draw a coat of arms) it evolved by the mid-nineteenth century with the familiar modern sense of “having left in the mind a vivid impression” (often in the form “emblazoned on one’s memory”).  In English, there’s nothing unusual in a derived or modified form of a word becoming common than its original root, even to the point the where the original is rendered rare, unfamiliar or even obsolete, a phenomenon due to changes in usage patterns, altered conventions in pronunciation or shifts in meaning that make the derived form more practical or culturally resonant.  That’s just how English evolves.

Other examples include (1) ruthless vs. ruth (ruth (pity; compassion) was once a common noun in Middle English but has long been extinct while ruthless, there being many who demand the description, remains popular), (2) unkempt vs kempt (kempt (neatly kept) would have been listed as extinct were it not for it finding a niche as a literary and poetic form and has also been used humorously or ironically), (3) disheveled vs sheveled (sheveled was from the Old French chevelé (having hair) and was part of mainstream vocabulary as late as the eighteenth century but, except in jocular use, is effectively non-existent in modern English) and (4) redolent vs dolent (redolent (evocative of; fragrant) was from dolent (sorrowful), from the Latin dolere (to feel pain)); redolent both outlived and enjoyed a meaning-shift from its root.

Etymologists think of these as part of the linguistic fossil record, noting there’s no single reason for the phenomenon beyond what survives being better adapted to cultural or conversational needs.  In that, these examples differ from the playful fork of back-formation which has produced (1) combobulate (a back-formation from discombobulate (to confuse or disconcert; to throw into a state of confusion) which was a humorous mock-Latin creation in mid-nineteenth century US English) (2) couth (a nineteenth century back-formation from uncouth and used as a humorous form meaning “refined”), (3) gruntled (a twentieth century back-formation meaning “happy or contented; satisfied”, the source being disgruntled (unhappy; malcontented) and most sources indicate it first appeared in print in 1926 but the most celebrated example comes from PG Wodehouse (1881–1975) who in The Code of the Woosters (1938) penned: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”  Long a linguistic joke, some now take gruntled seriously but for the OED remains thus far unmoved and (4) ept (a back-formation from inept (not proficient; incompetent or not competent (there is a functional difference between those two)) which was from the Middle French inepte, from the Latin ineptus).

Literary use

In literary use, “blazon” was a technical term used by the Petrarchists (devotes of Francis Petrarch (1304-1374), a scholar & poet of the early Italian Renaissance renowned for his love poems & sonnets and regarded also as one of the earliest humanists).  Blazon in this context (a subset of what literary theorists call “catalogue verse”) was adopted because, like the structured and defined elements of heraldic symbolism, Petrarch’s poems contained what might be thought an “inventory” of verses which dwelt upon and detailed the various parts of a woman's body; a sort of catalogue of her physical attributes.  Petrarch’s approach wasn’t new because as a convention in lyric poetry it was well-known by the mid thirteenth century, most critics crediting the tradition to the writings of Geoffrey of Vinsauf, a figure about whom little is although it’s believed he was born in Normandy.  In England the Elizabethan sonneteers honed the technique as a devotional device, often, in imaginative ways, describing the bits of their mistresses they found most pleasing, a classic example a fragment from Amoretti and Epithalamion (1595), a wedding day ode by the English poet Edmund Spenser (circa 1552-1599) to his bride (Elizabeth Boyle) in 1594:

Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining bright.
Her forehead ivory white,
Her cheeks like apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips like cherries charming men to bite,
Her breast like to a bowl of cream uncrudded,
Her paps like lilies budded,
Her snowy neck like to a marble tower,
And all her body like a palace fair.

Two bowls of cream uncrudded.

So objectification of the female form is nothing new and the poets saw little wrong with plagiarism, most of the imagery summoned salvaged from the works of Antiquity by elegiac Roman and Alexandrian Greek poets.  Most relied for their effect on brevity, almost always a single, punchy line and none seem ever to attempt the scale of the “epic simile”.  As can be imagined, the novelty of the revival didn’t last and the lines soon were treated by readers (some of whom were fellow poets) as clichés to be parodied (a class which came to be called “contrablazon”), the London-based courtier Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586) borrowing from the Italian poet Francesco Berni (1497–1535) the trick of using terms in the style of Petrarch but “mixing them up”, thus creating an early form of body dysmorphia: Mopsa's forehead being “jacinth-like”, cheeks of “opal”, twinkling eyes “bedeckt with pearl” and lips of “sapphire blue”.

William Shakespeare (1564–1616) however saw other possibilities in the blazon and in Sonnet 130 (1609) turned the idea on its head, listing the imperfections in her body parts and characteristics yet concluding, despite all that, he anyway adored her like no other (here rendered in a more accessible English):

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
   As any she belied with false compare.

Ranga

Ranga (pronounced rang-ah)

In Australian slang, a person with red (ginger, auburn etc) hair.

1990s: Based on the name orangutan (pronounced aw-rang-oo-tan, oh-rang-oo-tan or uh-rang-oo-tan), any of three endangered species of long-armed, arboreal anthropoid great ape, the only extant members of the subfamily Ponginae, inhabiting Borneo (Pongo pygmaeus) and Sumatra (P. abelii).  The three species are Bornean orangutan (Pongo pygmaeus), Sumatran orangutan (Pongo abelii) and Tapanuli orangutan (Pongo tapanuliensis).  Ranga is a noun; the noun plural is rangas.  Australians tend to be linguistic reductionists and one is deemed either a ranga or not but presumably there can be "gray areas" (there may, in this context, be a better way of putting that) so adjectives such as rangaish or rangaesque could be coined as required.

A ketchup of gingers?  Roodharigendag in the Netherlands.

Since 2005 (except in 2020 when the COVID-19 pandemic put a stop to the fun), the Netherlands has hosted what is described as the "world's largest gathering of redheads".  Were the three-day festival (which attracts participants from over eighty nations) staged in certain other countries it might have gained a playful, fanciful name but the practical Dutch unadventurously used Roodharigendag (Redhead Day) which does have the virtue of being unambiguous.  There are a variety of events including lectures and pub-crawls; presumably, coffee shops are visited and perhaps the proprietors offer special blends of red-themed weed for the event.  If not, presumably "Fanta Orange" (€13 per gram in mid 2024) sales spike.

An Orangutan in the Sumatran jungle.  International Orangutan Day is 19 August.

Despite the first element of orangutan (orang) appearing to be a clipping of “orange” (a reasonable assumption given the creature’s vaguely orange-hued coat although zoologists describe it usually as “reddish-brown”), the term has nothing to do with coloration and is not derived from English sources.  Orangutan describes any of the three species of arboreal anthropoid ape, which comprise the genus Pongo, native to Borneo and Sumatra and as late as 1996 were listed as a single species in the taxonomic, based on the first scientific classification (as Homo Sylvestris) in 1758 by Swedish zoologist & physician Carl Linnaeus (1707–1778 and styled as Carl von Linné after 1761).  After being divided in 1996, the third species definitively was identified in 2017.  Even in English there are a dozen-odd alternative spellings and unmodified and variant forms appear in many languages.  The construct of orang-utan was from the Malay: orang (person, man) + hutan (forest) thus literally “forest man”.

Because, of the origin, to call someone a ranga is to compare them to a sub-human primate, so it might have been thought offensive but it remains widely used and is one of the additions to English which has spread from Australia.  Possibly the fact the world's redheads are almost exclusively white meant the comparisons with the orangutan weren't historically or culturally "loaded" so it never became more than a minor micro-aggression.  It certainly can be offensive and is often (though apparently mostly by children) used that way but it can also be a neutral descriptor or a form of self-identification by the red-headed.  It may be that many of those who deploy ranga (for whatever purpose) are unaware of the connection with sub-human primate and treat it as just another word; in that sense it’s actually less explicit than some of the many alternatives with a longer linguistic lineage including "ginger minge", "fire crotch", "carrot top", Fanta (not always capitalized) pants", "rusty crotch" and "blood nuts".  Whether ranga is more or less offensive than any of those (none of which reference apes) is something on which not all redheads may agree but in 2017 (some months on from ranga being added to the Australian Macquarie Dictionary), presumably so there was a forum to discuss such matters, RANGA (the Red And Nearly Ginger Association) was formed, finding its natural home on social media where it operates to provide social support rather than being a pressure group.  

There was also the Australian moniker “blue” (and, being Australia, the inevitable “bluey”) to describe redheads and most dictionaries of slang suggest the origin was in the tradition of “lofty” or “stretch” sometimes being applied to the notably short (ie the stark contrast between “red” and “blue”).  There is the suggestion it may have been an allusion to the propensity of “hot-headed” redheads to “start a blue” (ie start a fight, that use another of the nation’s many re-purposings of the word) but there’s no documentary evidence.  However, there is an established connection between “orange” & “blue”, a number of orange-flavored liqueurs dyed blue, Blue Curaçao the best-known.  According to historians of the industry, the blue dye came to be used just for the visual novelty, blue uncommon in natural foods or drinks and the striking colour was a point of differentiation with the many other orange-colored beverages.  Curaçao liqueur originated on the Caribbean island of Curaçao and was made using the dried peel of the laraha (a bitter orange).  Originally distilled as a clear or amber fluid, various vivid artificial colors (blue, green, orange, red) were added just to create different brands and Blue Curaçao became the most popular becoming almost synonymous with the striking blue cocktails (Blue Lagoon, Blue Hawaiian etc) in which it is an ingredient.  Because the blue dye (typically Brilliant Blue FCF, aka E133) has no taste, the orange flavour remains unaffected.

Ginger, copper, auburn & chestnut are variations on the theme of red-headedness: Lindsay Lohan demonstrates the possibilities.  Red hair is the result of a mutation in the melanocortin 1 receptor (MC1R) gene responsible for producing the MC1R protein which plays a crucial role also in determining skin-tone. When the MC1R gene is functioning normally, it helps produce eumelanin, a type of melanin that gives hair a dark color.  However, a certain mutation in the MC1R gene leads to the production of pheomelanin which results in red hair.  Individuals with two copies of the mutated MC1R gene (one from each parent) typically have red hair, fair skin, and a higher sensitivity to ultraviolet (UV) light, a genetic variation found most often in those of northern & western European descent.

Just as blonde women have long been objectified and derided as of limited intelligence (ie the "dumb" blonde), redheads have been stereotyped as sexually promiscuous (women) or having fiery tempers (men & women) but there is no evidence supporting any relationship between hair color, personality type or temperament.  The sample sizes are inherently small (redheads less than 2% of the global population) but there are populations in which the predominance is higher, so further research would be interesting but such questions are of course now unfashionable.  Most style guides list "red-haired”, “redhead” & “redheaded” as acceptable descriptors but the modern practice is wherever possible to avoid references which apply to physical characteristics, much as the suggestion now is not to invoke any term related to race or ethnic origin.  That way nothing can go wrong.  If it’s a purely technical matter, such as hair products, then descriptors are unavoidable (part-numbers not as helpful at the retail level) and there’s quite an array, ranging from light ginger at the lighter end to chestnuts and and auburns at the darker and there was a time when auburn was used as something of a class-identifier.

Jessica Gagen, Miss England, 2022.

Winner of Miss England 2022 (the first redhead to claim the crown (which really was a crown rather than the tiara some contests award)), Miss World Europe 2023 & Miss United Kingdom 2024, Jessica Gagen (b 1996) holds a bachelor's degree in aerospace engineering from the University of Liverpool, and is an advocate for women and girls in STEM (science, technology, engineering & math).  Having been subject to "rangaphobia" bullying as a child, Ms Gagen used her platform to spread a positive message to those who have also suffered cruel taunts about being red-headed.  After leaving school, Ms Gagen discovered one advantage her locks afforded was they attracted modeling agencies and, as a multi-tasker, she pursued a lucrative international career in conjunction with her studies.  Her interest in encouraging women to enter STEM fields came while at university when the paucity of female participation in her engineering course was obvious in male-dominated lecture theatres and tutorial rooms.

Peak Jessica: Jessica Gagen pictured cooling off during one of England's increasingly frequent heat-waves when temperatures reached a record 42^o C (108^o F), something long thought impossible because of the interplay of the movement of water and sea currents around the British Isles.  It's an urban myth redheads (being "hot-headed" in the popular imagination) need more than most to "cool down" when the temperature is high. 

Interestingly, Ms Gagen says participation in beauty contests changed her perception of them as sexist displays, regarding that view as archaic, noting the women involved all seemed to have their own motives, usually involving raising awareness about something of personal interest.  Being part of the subset of humanity likely to do well in beauty contests (a matter of concern among some critical theorists) is of course just a form of comparative advantage in the way some benefit from  a genetic mix which makes them ideal basketball players.  The beauty contest is thus an economic opportunity and choosing to participate in one can be a rational choice in that one's allocation of time and resources can yield greater returns than the alternatives.  Another notable thing about Jessica Gagen is that being born in 1996, she is part of that sub-set of the population called “peak Jessica”, the cohort which reflected the extraordinary popularity of the name between 1981-1997, overlapping slightly with “peak Jennifer” which occurred between 1970-1984.

Accidie

Accidie (pronounced ak-si-dee)

Sloth; apathy, in the sense of both (1) a general listlessness and apathy and (2) spiritual torpor.

1200–1250: From the Middle English accidie, from the Anglo-Norman accidie, from the Old French accide & accidie, from the Medieval Latin accidia (an alteration of Late Latin acedia (sloth, torpor), from the Ancient Greek ἀκήδεια (akḗdeia) (indifference), the construct being ἀ- (a-) (in the sense of “not”) +‎ κῆδος (kêdos).  It was a doublet of acedia, still cited as an alternative form and replaced the Middle English accide.  The word was in active use between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries and was revived in the nineteenth as a literary adornment.  Accidie and acediast are nouns and acedious is an adjective; the noun plural is acediasts.

The alternative literary words include (1) ennui (a gripping listlessness or melancholia caused by boredom; depression), an unadapted borrowing from the French ennui, from the Old French enui (annoyance), from enuier (which in Modern French persists as ennuyer), from the Late Latin inodiō, from the Latin in odiō (hated) and a doublet of annoy, (2) weltschmerz, used as an alternative letter-case form of the German Weltschmerz (an apathetic or pessimistic view of life; depression concerning or discomfort with the human condition or state of the world; world-weariness), the construct being Welt (world) + Schmerz (physical ache, pain; emotional pain, heartache, sorrow) and coined by German Romantic writer Jean Paul (1763–1825) for his novel Selina (published posthumously in 1827) and (3) mal du siècle (apathy and world-weariness, involving pessimism towards the current state of the world, often along with nostalgia for the past (originally in the context of French Romanticism) (literally “disease of the century”) and coined by the French writer Alfred de Musset in his autobiographical novel La Confession d'un enfant du siècle (The Confession of a Child of the Century (1936)).

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.

In Antiquity, the Greeks seemed to have refined accidie (which translated literally as being in “a state so inert as the be devoid of pain or care”) to be used of those who has become listless and no longer cared for their own lives or their society, thus distinguishing it from other conditions of melancholy which tended to be individually focused although in surviving medical texts, what’s being diagnosed was something like what might now be called “depression”.  Predictably, when adopted by moral theologians in Christian writing, it was depicted as a sin or at least a personal flaw.  Others wrote of it as a “demon” to be overcome and even a temptation placed by the Devil, one to which “young men who read poetry” seem to have been chronically prone.  It can be thought of as falling into the category of sloth, listed in the Medieval Latin tradition as of the seven deadly sins and appeared in Dante Alighieri’s (circa 1265–1321) Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) not only as a sin worthy of damnation & eternal punishment but the very sin which led Dante to the edge of Hell.  In his unfinished Summa Theologiae (literally Summary of Theology), the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) noted accidie was a spiritual sorrow, induced by man’s flight from the Divine good, “…on account of the flesh utterly prevailing over the spirit”, the kind of despair which can culminate in the even greater sin of suicide.

Google ngram: Accidie 1800-2020.

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.

Etymologists note that between the mid sixteenth and mid nineteenth centuries the word acedia was close to extinct and whether it was the revival of interest in the Romantic poets (often a glum lot) or the increasing number of women becoming novelists, there was in the late 1800s a revival with the term, once the preserve of theologians, re-purposed as a decorative literary word; in the “terrible twentieth century” there was much scope for use and it appears in the writings of Ian Fleming (1908–1964), Aldous Huxley (1894–1963) and Samuel Beckett (1906-1989).  Intriguingly, in The Decline and Fall of Nokia (2014), Finnish-based expatriate US writer David J Cord introduced the concept of corporate acedia, citing the phenomenon as one of the causes of the collapse of Nokia's once dominant mobile device unit.

Joan Didion (1934-2021) and cigarette with her Daytona Yellow (OEM code 984) 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray (on the C2 Corvette (1963-1967) and in 1968 the spelling had been "Sting Ray”).  The monochrome image was from a photo-session commissioned in 1970 by Life magazine and shot by staff photographer Julian Wasser (1933-2023), outside the house she was renting on Franklin Avenue in the Hollywood Hills.  To great acclaim, her first work of non-fiction, Slouching Towards Bethlehem (1968), had just been published.

Writing mostly, in one way or another, about “feelings”, Joan Didion’s work appealed mostly to a female readership but when photographs were published of her posing with her bright yellow Corvette, among men presumably she gained some “street cred” although that might have evaporated had they learned it was later traded for a Volvo; adding insult to injury, it was a Volvo station wagon with all that implies.  She was later interviewed about the apparent incongruity between owner and machine and acknowledged the strangeness, commenting: “I very definitely remember buying the Stingray because it was a crazy thing to do.  I bought it in Hollywood.”  Craziness and Hollywood were then of course synonymous and a C3 Corvette (1968-1982) really was the ideal symbol of the America about which Ms Didion wrote, being loud, flashy, rendered in plastic and flawed yet underpinned by a solid, well-engineered foundation; the notion of the former detracting from the latter was theme in in her essays on the American experience.

A 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray in Daytona Yellow.

Disillusioned, melancholic and clinical, Ms Didion’s literary oeuvre suited the moment because while obviously political it was also spiritual, a critique of what she called the “accidie” of the late 1960s, the moral torpor of those disappointed by what had followed the hope and optimism captured by “Camelot”, the White House of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963).  In retrospect Camelot was illusory but that of course made real the disillusionment of Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969) leading the people not to a “great society” but deeper into Vietnam.  Her essays were in the style of the “new journalism” and sometimes compared with those of her contemporary Susan Sontag (1933-2004) but the two differed in method, tone, ideological orientation and, debatably, expectation if not purpose.

Susan Sontag (1962), monochrome image by Village Voice staff photographer Fred McDarrah (1926–2007).

Ms Didion’s used accidie to describe a society which the troubled 1960s seemed to have bludgeoned into a state not of acquiescence but indifference, a moral exhaustion.  Her writings were observational (and, as she admitted, sometimes “embellished” for didactic purposes), sceptical and cool, her conception of the failure of contemporary politics a matter of describing the disconnect between rhetoric and reality, understanding the language of theatre criticism was as appropriate as that of the lexicon of political science.  In a sense, 'twas ever thus but Ms Didion captured the imagination by illustrating just how far from the moorings of reality the political spectacle of myth-making had drifted.  Ms Sontag’s tone was declarative and distinctly authoritative (in the way of second-wave feminism), tending often to the polemic and the sense was she was writing in opposition to a collective immorality, not the kind of moral indifference Ms Didion detected.  Both were students of their nation’s cultural pathology but one seemed more a palliative care specialist tending a patient in their dying days while the other offered a diagnosis and suggested a cure which, while not something to enjoy: "would be good for them".  While Ms Didion distrusted ideological certainty, Ms Sontag engaged explicitly with “isms”, not in the sense of one writing of the history of ideas but as a protagonist, using language in an attempt to shape political consciousness, the former a kind of secular moral theologian mourning a loss of coherence in American life while the latter was passionate and wrote often with a strident urgency, never losing the sense that whatever her criticisms, things could be fixed and there was hope.  The irony of being an author to some degree afflicted by the very accide she described in others was not lost on Ms Didion.

Susan Sontag, circa 1971, photographed by Jim Cartier.  The pop-art portrait of comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) was a print of Roy Lichtenstein's (1923–1997) Mao (1971) which had been used as the cover for US author Frederic Tuten's (b 1936) novel The Adventures of Mao on the Long March (1971).  Ms Sontag had written a most favourable review of the book and the framed print was reputedly a gift.

Joan Didion with Corvette, another image from Julian Wasser’s 1970 photo-shoot.  The staging in this one is for feminists to ponder.

While a stretch to say that in trading-in the Corvette for a Volvo station wagon, Ms Didion was tracking the nation which had moved from Kennedy to Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), it’s too tempting not to make.  Of the Corvette, she used the phrase: “I gave up on it”, later recounting: “the dealer was baffled” but denied the change was related to moving after eight years from Malibu to leafy, up-market suburban Brentwood.  While she “…needed a new car because with the Corvette something was always wrong…” she “…didn’t need a Volvo station wagon” although did concede: “Maybe it was the idea of moving into Brentwood.”  She should have persevered because as many an owner of a C3 Corvette understands, the faults and flaws are just part of the brutish charm.  Whether the car still exists isn't known; while Corvette's have a higher than average survival rate, their use on drag strips & race tracks as well as their attractiveness to males aged 17-25 has meant not a few suffered misadventure.

Joan Didion with Corvette, rendered as oil on canvas with yellow filter.

The configuration of her car seems not anywhere documented but a reasonable guess is it likely was ordered with the (base) 300 horsepower (hp) version (ZQ3) of the 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) small-block V8, coupled with the Turbo-Hydramatic 400 (TH400) (M40) three-speed automatic transmission (the lighter TH350 wouldn't be used until 1976 by which time power outputs had fallen so much the robustness of the TH400 was no longer required).  When scanning the option list, although things like the side-mounted exhaust system (N14) or the 430 hp versions (the iron-block L88 & all aluminium ZL1, the power ratings of what were barely-disguised race car engines deliberately understated, the true output between 540-560 hp) of the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) big-block V8 would not have tempted Ms Didion, she may have ticked the box for the leather trim (available in six colors and the photos do suggest black (402 (but if vinyl the code was ZQ4)), air conditioning (C60), power steering (N40), power brakes (J50), power windows (A31) or an AM-FM radio (U69 and available also (at extra cost) with stereo (U79)).  Given she later traded-in the Corvette on a Volvo station wagon, presumably the speed warning indicator (U15) would have been thought superfluous but, living in Malibu, the alarm system (UA6) might have caught her eye.

An emo with 1977 Volvo 245 station wagon; if she had a Corvette to pose with she’d be smiling because Corvettes can make even emos happy.  This is Emma Myers (b 2002) as Pippa "Pip" Fitz-Amobi in A Good Girl's Guide to Murder (Netflix, 2024).

Quintessential symbols of France, Bridget Bardot (b 1934), Citroën La Déesse and a lit Gitanes.

The combination of a car, a woman with JBF and a cigarette continued to draw photographers even after smoking ceased to be glamorous and became a social crime.  First sold in 1910, Gitanes production in France survived two world wars, the Great Depression, Nazi occupation but the regime of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) proved too much and, following the assault on tobacco by Brussels and Paris, in 2005 the factory in Lille was shuttered.  Although Gitanes (and the sister cigarette Gauloise) remain available in France, they are now shipped from Spain and while in most of the Western world fewer now smoke, Gitanes Blondes retain a cult following.

Emily Labowe with Mercedes-Benz 300 TD (S123), photographed by Kristin Gallegos.

An image like this illustrates why, even if no longer thought glamourous, smoking can still look sexy.  The 300 TD is finished in Manila Beige and for the W123 range Mercedes-Benz also offered the subdued Maple Yellow and the exuberant Sun Yellow which was as vivid as the Corvette's Daytona Yellow. 

No images seem to exist of Ms Didion with her Volvo station wagon but Laurel Canyon's Kristin Gallegos (b 1984) later followed Julian Wasser’s staging by photographing artist Emily Labowe (b 1993) with a Mercedes-Benz 300 TD station wagon and that once essential accessory: a cigarette.  One of the last of the “chrome Mercedes”, the W123 range was in production between 1975-1986 and the station wagon appeared in 1977 with the internal code S123 (only nerds use that and to the rest of the world they’re “W123 wagons”).  The designation was “T” (the very Germanic Tourismus und Transport (Touring and Transport)) or TD for the diesel-powered cars and the S123 was the company’s first station wagon to enter series production, previous such “long roof” models coming from coach-builders including many hearses & ambulances as well as station wagons.  The English still call station wagons "estates" (a clipping of "estate car") although a publication like Country Life probably still hankers after "shooting brake" and the most Prussian of the German style guides list the compound noun Kombinationskraftwagen which for decades has usually been clipped to the semi-formal Kombiwagen, (plural Kombiwagen or Kombiwägen) or, in general use: Kombi.

1978 Mercedes Benz 280 TE (S123).

That Mercedes-Benz in the mid-1970s decided their first station wagon in regular production should be a “T” (and understood as a Tourenwagen (touring car) rather than a “K” (ie Kombiwagen, the designation used by other manufacturers) reflected the prevailing German view of such cars.  Unlike the US where station wagons had long been emblematic of middle-class respectability (often as a family’s second car for the wife & mother) or England where the style enjoyed an association with the upper class HFS (huntin’, fishin’ & shootin’) set, to Germans the utilitarian long-roofs had a down-market image, bought only by those unable to afford separate vehicles for business & pleasure.  Coach-builders had of course used Mercedes-Benz saloons as the basis for station wagons, ambulances and hearses but these were always expensive and thus not tainted by association with thriftiness by necessity.  In their alphanumeric soup of model designations, Mercedes-Benz had previously used “K” to mean either Kompressor (supercharged) (eg 770 K) or Kurz  (short) (eg SSK) and other letters had also done double-duty, “L” standing for either Lang (long) (eg 500 SEL) or Licht (light) (eg SSKL) and “S” could mean both Super (300 SL) or Sports (300 SLR) so for the S123 “K” wasn’t avoided because of fears of confusing folk; it was just an image thing: "Don't mention the kombi".  That all changed in the 1980s when the Germans decided wagons were sexy after all, the high performance arms of Audi, BMW & Mercedes-Benz all producing some remarkably fast ones.   

Mercedes-Benz G4s: Gepäckwagen (baggage car, top left) & Funkauto (radio car, top right) and 300 Messwagen (bottom left) at speed on the test track, tethered to a W111 sedan (1959-1968, bottom right).

The factory did though over the decades build a handful including a brace of the three-axle G4s (W31, 1934-1939), one configured as a Gepäckwagen (baggage car), the other a Funkauto (radio car).  In 1960 there was also the Messwagen (measuring car), a kind of “rolling laboratory” from the era before technology allowed most testing to be emulated in software.  The capacious Messwagen was based on the W189 300 “Adenauer” (W186 & W189 1951-1962) and was then state of the art but by the 2020s, the capabilities of all the bulky equipment which filled the rear compartment could have been included in a single phone app.  Students of design will admire the mid-century modernism in the curve of the rear-side windows but might be surprised to learn the muscle car-like scoop on the roof is not an air-intake but an aperture housing ports for connecting the Messwagen’s electronic gear with the vehicle being monitored, the two closely driven in unison (often at high speed) on the test track while being linked with a few metres of cabling and although we now live in a wireless age, real nerds know often a cable is preferable, the old ways sometimes best.  The Messwagen remained in service until 1972 and is now on display at the factory’s museum in Stuttgart.   

1956 Mercedes-Benz 300c (W186 "Adenauer") Estate Car by Binz.

The factory's Messwagen wasn't the first use of the big W186/W189 for long-roof variants, hearses and ambulances having appeared in several European countries and there was at least one station wagon, proving consumption can be conspicuous yet still subtle, achieved usually if a bespoke creation is both expensive and functional.  The 300 saloons and four-door cabriolets were large, stately and beautifully built, the 1956 example pictured was delivered to a customer in the US who for whatever reason prized exclusivity over capacity or speed, all the major US manufacturers at the time offering station wagons able to accommodate more people and more more luggage while going much faster.  The 300 certainly would have delivered better fuel economy but that wouldn't have crossed the mind of the purchaser who would have been deterred from something like a Chrysler New Yorker or Ford Country Squire because they were, by comparison with her one-off, cheap and common whereas a custom built 300 “dripped money”; even to the uninformed they would obviously have been expensive and it was thus a classic "Veblen good" a quirk in the supply & demand curve of orthodox economics in that for a certain (ie the "1%") demographic demand for an item can increase as its price rises.  The car still exists, traded between collectors to be exhibited at concours d'elegance.

1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser (left), details of the apparatuses above the windscreen (centre) and the Breezeaway rear window lowered (right)

The 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser was notable for (1) the truly memorable model name, (2) the “Breezeway" rear window which could be lowered and (3) having a truly bizarre assembly  of “features” above the windscreen.  There’s no suggestion that when fashioning the 300 Messwagen the engineers in Stuttgart were aware of the Turnpike Cruiser but had they looked, it could have provided an inspiration for the way access to ports in the roof could have been handled.  Unfortunately, the pair of “radio aerials” protruding from the pods at the top of the Mercury’s A-pillars were a mere affectation, a “jet-age” motif embellishing what were actually air-intakes.  They were though a harbinger of the way in which future “measuring vehicles” would be configured when various forms of wireless communication had advanced to the point at which a cable connection was no longer required.