Narratology

Narratology (pronounced nar-uh-tol-uh-jee)

The study of narrative & narrative structure and the ways these affect human perception (with some mission creep over the years).

1967: The construct was narrate +‎ -ology, an Anglicization of the French narratologie, coined by Bulgarian-French historian, philosopher & structuralist literary critic Tzvetan Todorov (1939–2017), it first appeared in his book Grammaire du Décaméron (1967), a structural analysis of Decameron (The Decameron (1348-1353)) by the Italian writer Giovanni Boccaccio (1313–1375).  Although once thought an arcane appendage to literature and a mere academic abstraction, structuralism and narratology in the 1970s and 1980s became a very popular (and controversial) field and while postmodernism’s historic movement may have passed, the tools are an important part of the “learning” process used by generative AI (artificial intelligence) to produce meaning from the LLM (large language models.)

Title page from a 1620 printing of Decameron.

Boccaccio’s Decameron (literally “ten days”) was a collection of short stories, structured into a hundred tales of seven young women and three young men who had secluded themselves in a villa outside Florence, seeking to avoid the Black Death pandemic (1346-1353) then sweeping Europe.  Although not too much should be made of this comparison, the work in some aspects is not dissimilar to reality television, being a mash-up of erotic scenes, set-piece jokes, suspense and unrequited love.  Todorov’s Grammaire du Décaméron was a literary analysis of the work but “grammaire” must be understood as meaning “grammar” in the sense of the structural or narratological principles rather than as its used in its “everyday” sense.  Historians and literary scholars have for centuries regarded Decameron as a valuable document because, written in the Florentine vernacular of the era, although fictional, it’s a kind of “snapshot” of life in what was one of Europe’s many troubled times.  It was Boccaccio who dubbed Dante’s (Dante Alighieri (circa 1265–1321)) Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) “divine” (in the sense of “very good” rather than “holy”).

Narrate (to relate a story or series of events (historically in speech or writing)) may for years (or even decades) have been in oral use in English before the first known use in print in 1656, etymologists noting that until the nineteenth century it was stigmatized as “Scottish” (long a slur among the more fastidious) although it’s thought it was derived from the “respectable” narration.  Narrative ((1) a story or account of events or (2) the art, process or technique or telling the story) was in use by the 1440s and was from the Middle French noun & adjective narrative, from the Late Latin narrātīvus (narration (noun) & suitable for narration (adjective)), the construct being narrāt(us) (related, told), past participle of narrāre (to relate, tell, say) + -īvus (the adjectival suffix).  Again, like “narrate”, narrative was once used exclusively of speech or writing but in recent decades the terms have been more widely applied and not restricted to describing the efforts of humans.

Since the nineteenth century, “-ologies” have proliferated.

The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism et al).

A narrative is a story and it can run to thousands of pages or appear in a few words on a restaurant menu describing their fish & chips: “Ethically sourced, line-caught Atlantic cod, liberated from the frigid depths, encased in a whisper-light, effervescent golden shroud of our signature micro-foamed artisanal lager batter and served with hand-sliced, elongated potato batons fried to a crisp perfection in sustainably produced vegetable oil.”  In the age of every customer being able to post from their phone a rating and review of a restaurant, wisely, some institutions include a footnote along the lines: “These narratives are a guide and because natural products vary greatly, there will be variation.”  That’s an aspect of narratology, a process which is not the reading and interpretation of individual texts but an attempt to study the nature of “story” itself, as a concept and as a cultural practice or construct.

Crooked Hillary Clinton's book tour (2017).

Narratologists know that what to a narrator can be a narrative, a naratee will receive as spin.  In What Happened (2017), a work of a few dozen pages somehow padded out to a two-inch thick wad of over 500 using the “how to write an Amazon best-seller” template, crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) explained who was to blame for her loss in the 2016 US presidential election (spoiler alert: it was everybody except her).

Presumably not comparing what they’re doing with making “fish & chips” sound like something expensive, politicians and their operatives will often describe something they offer as a “narrative” although were mush the same stuff to come from their opponents it might be dismissed as “spin”.  A political narrative functions as a cognitive schema intended to simplify complexity, motivate support and legitimizes particular courses of action.  The concept has a long history but in recent decades the emphasis has been on “simplicity”, something illustrated by comparing a narrative like The Federalist Papers (1878-1788; a collection of several dozen essays advocating the ratification of the Constitution of the United States) with how things are now done (mostly fleshed-out, three-word slogans endlessly repeated).  That descent doesn’t mean both are not narratives in that both are crafted interpretive frame rather than objective descriptions although the extent of the deception obviously had tended to change.  Political spin can also be a narrative and should be thought a parallel stream rather than a tributary; variations on a theme as it were.  Although the purpose may differ (a narrative a storyline intended to set and define and agenda whereas spin is a “damage control” story designed to re-shape perceptions.  Given that, a narrative can be thought of a “macro-management” and spin “micro-management”, both providing fine case-studies for narratologists.

Narratology is a noun; the noun plural is narratologies.  The derived forms are the noun antenarratology (the study of antenarratives and their interplay with narratives and stories), the noun antenarrative (the process by which a retrospective narrative is linked to a living story (the word unrelated to the noun antinarrative (a narrative, as of a play or novel, that deliberately avoids the typical conventions of the narrative, such as a coherent plot and resolution)), the noun  econarratology (an approach to literary criticism combining aspects of ecocriticism (the interdisciplinary study of literature and ecology) and narratology), the noun narratologist (one who (1) studies or (2) practices narratology), the adjective narratological (of or pertaining to narratology) and the adverb narratologically (in terms of narratology).  Remarkably (given the literary theory industry), the adjective narratologistic seems never to have appeared; it can be only a matter of time.

Tzvetan Todorov on the rooftop of Casa Milà (La Pedrera), Barcelona, Spain, November 2014.

Although not a lineal descendent, what Todorov did in Grammaire du Décaméron was in the tradition of Aristotle’s (384-322 BC) work, especially ποιητικῆς (Peri poietikês (De Poetica De Poe in the Latin and traditionally rendered in English as Poetics).  Poetics is notable as the earliest known study of the structure of Greek drama and remains the oldest known text written exclusively in the form of what now would be called literary theory.  To a modern audience the word “poetics” can mislead because the author’s focus was ποιητική (literally “the poetic art”, from ποιητής (poet, author, writer) and his scope encompassed verse drama (comedy, tragedy, and the satyr play), lyric poetry, and the epic.  For centuries, Poetics loomed over the Western understanding of Greek theatre; it was revered by scholars of the late Medieval period and especially the Renaissance and their influence endured.  As far as is known, the Greeks were the first of the tragedians and it’s through the surviving texts of Aristotle that later understandings were filtered but all of his conclusions were based only on the tragedies and such was his historic and intellectual authority that for centuries those theories came to be misapplied and misused, either by mapping them on to all forms of tragedy or using them as exclusionary, dismissing from the canon those works which couldn’t be made to fit his descriptions.  However, as well as being an invaluable historic text explain how Greek theatre handled mimesis (imitation of life, fiction, allegory etc), Poetics genuinely can be read as proto-critical theory and in it lies a framework for structuralism.

Paintings of Claude Lévi-Strauss: Portrait de Claude Lévi-Strauss, 1991 (1991), oil on panel by Bengt Lindström (1925-2008) (left) and Claude Lévi-Strauss (undated), oil on other by Cal Lekie (b 1999).

Narratology as a distinct fork of structuralism does pre-date Todorov’s use of the word in 1967, the seminal work in the parameters of the discipline by Russian folklorist & literary historian of the formalist school Vladimir Propp (1895-1970) who doubtlessly never anticipated “formalism” would come to be weaponized by comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953).  Indeed, by the late 1920s the school of formalism had become unfashionable (something which in the Soviet Union could be dangerous for authors) and their works essentially “disappeared” until being re-discovered by structuralists in the 1950s.  In the West, the idea of narratology as the “theory, discourse or critique of narrative or narration” owes a debt to Belgian-born French anthropologist & ethnologist Claude Lévi-Strauss (1908–2009) who defined the structural analysis by narrative as its now understood.  His landmark text Anthropologie structurale (Structural Anthropology (1958)) suggested myths are variations on basic themes and that in their totality (which runs to thousands) their narratives contain certain constant, basic and universal structures by which any one myth can be explained.  In that way, myths (collectively) exist as a kind “language” which can be deconstructed into units or “mythemes” (by analogy with phonemes (an indivisible unit of sound in a given language)).  Although he didn’t pursue the notion of the comparison with mathematics, others did and that (inherently more segmented) field perhaps better illustrates “structural roles” within language in elements which, although individually standing as minimal contrastive units, can be combined or manipulated according to rules to produce meaningful expressions.  As in formal language theory, in mathematical logic, the smallest units are the primitive symbols of a language which can be quantifiers, variables, logical connectives, relation symbols, function symbols or punctuation.  Broken into the individual parts, these need have no (or only minimal) semantic meaning but gain much meaning when assembled or otherwise handled through syntactic combination governed by a recognized grammar (ie although conceptual primitives rather than “building blocks”, complex meaning can be attained by applying axioms and rules).

Azerbaijani folk art, following Layla and Majnun (1188), a narrative poem by the Persian poet Nizami Ganjavi (circa 1141–1209), printed in Morphology of the Folk Tale (1928) by Vladimir Propp.  In something of a Russian tradition, there are no known photographs of Propp smiling.

Levi-Strauss’s contribution was that myths can be read in relation to each other rather than as reflecting a particular version, thus the his concept of a kind of “grammar” (the set of relations lying beneath the narrative’s surface), thus the general principle of the “collective existence of myths”, independent of individual thought.  That was of course interesting but the startling aspect was the implication myths as related to other myths rather than truth and reality; they are, in a sense, “outside” decentred, and possess their own truth and logic which, when contemplated in a “traditional” way, may be judged neither truthful nor logical.  In that, Levi-Strauss applied something of the method of Propp who, in Morphology of the Folk Tale (1928), “reduced” all folk tales to seven “spheres of action” and 31 fixed elements or “functions” of narrative.  In Propp’s scheme, the function was the basic unit of the narrative “language’ and denoted or referred to the actions which constitute the narrative while the functions tend to follow a logical sequence.  The concept would have been familiar to engineers and shipbuilders but genuinely there was some novelty when applied to literature

Lithuanian semiotician A. J “Julien” Greimas (1917–1992) was among the many academics working in France who found Propp’s reductionism compelling and in Sémantique Structurale Recherche de méthode (Structural Semantics: An Attempt at a Method (1966)) he further atomized things, apparently seeking something like a “universal macro language”, a grammar of narrative which could be derived from a semantic analysis of sentence structure.  That was as ambitious as it sounds and to replace Propp’s “spheres of action” he suggested the “actant” (or role): a structural unit which is neither character or narrative.  To handle the mechanics of this approach he posited three pairs of binary oppositions which included six actants: subject/object; sender/receiver; helper/opponent.  The interactions of these binary oppositions served to account for or describe the three basic patterns which are to be found in narrative: (1) desire, search or aim (subject/object), (2) communication (sender/receiver) and (3) auxiliary support or hindrance (helper/opponent).

An eleven-volume first edition of Marcel Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu (published originally in seven (1913-1927); in the the original French it contained some 1.267 million words.  By comparison, Leo Tolstoy's (1828-1910) War and Peace (1898) ran ran (depending on the edition) to 560-590 thousand.

While Greimas didn’t explicitly claim his model successfully could be mapped on to “any and every” narrative, he does appear to have built his model as a general theory and while not all critics were convinced, it seems generally to have been acknowledged his toolbox would work on a much wider range than that of Propp which did break down as narrative complexity increased.  Another French literary theorist associated with the structural movement was Gérard Genette (1930–2018) and in choosing a case study for his model he described in Discours du récit est un essai de méthode (Narrative Discourse: An essay in method (1972)) he selected Marcel Proust’s (1871-1922) À la recherche du temps perdu (1913–1927) (originally translated in English as “Remembrance of Things Past” and of late as “In Search of Lost Time”) which spans many volumes and narrative streams.  This time the critics seemed more convinced and seem to have concluded Genette’s approach was “more accessible” (these things are relative).  Noting the distinctions made in Russian Formalism between fabula (story) & syuzhet (plot), Genette distinguished between récit (the chronological sequence of a narrative’s events), historie (the sequence in which the event actually occurred and narration (the act of narrating itself); atop that framework, he built a complex discussion.  Being a French structuralist, he of course added to the field some new jargon to delight the academy, concluding there were three basic kinds of narrator: (1) the heterodiegetic' (where the narrator is absent from his own narrative), (2) the homodiegetic (the narrator is inside his narrative, as in a story told in the first person) and the autodiegetic (the narrator is inside the narrative and also the main character).  Genene’s approach was thus relational, envisaging narrative as a product or consequence of the interplay of its different components, meaning all and all aspects of narrative can be seen as dependent units (or, debatably, layers).

Narrator & protagonist: Lindsay Lohan as Cady Heron in Mean Girls (2004).  What in literary theory is known as homodiegetic narration is in film production usually called “subjective narration” or “first-person narration”, realized usually in a “voice-over narration by the protagonist”.

In formulating his three categories Genene nodded to Aristotle and Plato (circa 427-348 BC), the ancient worthies distinguishing three basic kinds of narrator: (1) the speaker or writer using their own voice, (2) (b) one who assumes the voice of another or others and (3) one who uses both their own voice and that of others.  These categories need not be exclusive for a story may begin in the voice of a narrator who may then introduce another narrator who proceeds to tell the story of characters who usually have their own voices and one or more of them may turn to narration.  Structurally (and even logically), there’s no reason why such a progression (or regression) cannot be infinite.  Although it’s obvious the term “narrate” denotes the person to whom a narrative is addressed, just because there is a narrative, it need not be axiomatic a narratee is present or ever existed, T. S. Eliot (1888–1965) in The Three Voices of Poetry (1953-1954) discerning three modes (voices) of poetic expression: (1) the poet speaking to himself, a personal, often obscure meditation, (2) the poet addressing an audience, aiming to teach, persuade, or amuse and (3) the poet creating a dramatic character, as in verse drama, something demanding complex communication between imagined characters.  Eliot argued that “good” poetry often was a blend of these voices and distinguishing them helps in understanding a poem's social and artistic purpose, beyond its mere self-expression.  However, Eliot did note that in “talking to himself”, the writer could also be “talking to nobody”.  He was at pains also to point out that when speaking in the third voice, the poet is saying not what he would say in his own person, but only what he can say within the limits of one imaginary character addressing another imaginary character.  More than many, Eliot knew narrative was not always reliable but the techniques of narratology (and structuralism generally) exist for purposes other than determining truth.

Roland Barthes (2015), oil and acrylic on canvas by Benoit Erwann Boucherot (b 1983).

Layers in narrative structure were identified by the French philosopher & literary theorist Roland Barthes (1915–1980) and his work had great appeal, something of an academic cult once surrounded him and, almost half a century after his death, he retains a following.  In Introduction à l'analyse structurale des récits (Introduction to Structural Analysis of Narrative (1966)), Barthes presumed a hierarchy of levels existed within narrative, suggesting that, up to a point, they can be discussed separately.  Narrative (at least for this purpose), he conceived as a “long sentence”, just as every constative (in linguistics, pertaining to an utterance relaying information and likely to be regarded as true or false) sentence can be the “rough outline” of a short narrative.  Barthes’ model was more building block-like in that he selects basic units of narrative (such as “function” & “index”, functions constituting a chain of acts while indices are a kind of metadata containing information about characters.

François Mitterrand (1984), acrylic on canvas by Bryan Organ (b 1935).

On X (formerly known as Twitter), one tweeter analysed the images on Barthes which exists and the indexed web, finding in 72% he was smoking a cigarette or cigar.  The statistical risks associated with routinely inhaling a known carcinogen have for decades been well-known but Barthes didn’t live long enter the age of “peak statistical risk”.  In February, 1980, having just taken lunch with François Mitterrand (1916–1996; President of France 1981-1995) in a restaurant on Paris’s Rue des Blancs-Manteaux, Barthes was using a zebra crossing on the Rue des Ecoles when knocked down by a laundry van; never recovering from his injuries, he died a month later.  The van’s driver was one Yvan Delahov, of Bulgarian nationality who tested positive for alcohol, but his reading of 0.6 fell below the legal maximum of 0.8; admitting he was late delivering his shirts, he claimed he’d not exceeded 60 km/h (37.3) mph.  At the time, Barthes was carrying no identity documents but was identified his colleague, the philosopher Michel Foucault (1926–1984).

Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (first edition, 1957).

Finally must be acknowledged the contribution of Canadian literary critic & literary theorist Northrop Frye (1912–1991) whose Anatomy of Criticism (1957) is regarded still as one of the more “remarkable and original” (in the words of the English historian and critic J.A. Cuddon (1928-1966)) works of literary theory in the English-speaking world.  In the narrow technical sense, Frye's theory is not structuralist (something which doubtless burnished its reputation among many) but it certainly contains strands which can be seen as structuralist.  Frye positioned literature as an “autonomous verbal structure”' unrelated to anything beyond itself, a world which contains “life and reality in a system of verbal relationships”.  In this “self-contained literary universe”, there were four radical “mythoi” (plot forms and basic organizing structural principles) which corresponded to the four seasons of the natural order and constitute the four main genres of comedy romance, tragedy and satire.  For those non-postmodernists who still long for l'art pour l'art (art for art's sake), Frye’s mythois are there to be used and he proved their utility in a wide range of texts, including the Bible.

Rune

Rune (pronounced roon)

(1) Any of the characters of certain ancient Germanic alphabets (derived from the Roman alphabet), as of a script used for writing the Germanic languages, especially of Scandinavia and Britain, circa 200-1200 AD, or a script used for inscriptions in a Turkic language between the sixth and eighth centuries from the area near the Orkhon River in Mongolia.  Each character was ascribed some magical significance.

(2) Something written or inscribed in such characters.

(3) An aphorism, poem, or saying with mystical meaning or for use in casting a spell; any obscure piece of writing using mysterious symbols; a spell or incantation.

(4) In literary use, a poem, song, or verse.

(5) A Finnish or Scandinavian epic poem, or a division of one, especially a division of the Kalevala.

(6) A roun (secret or mystery) (obsolete).

(7) In computing, in the Go programming language, a Unicode code point.

1675–1685: From the Old Norse rūn & rún (a secret, writing, runic character), cognate with the Old English rūn, the Middle English rune, the obsolete English roun and the Finnish runo (poem, canto).  All were related to the Old Saxon, Old High German and Gothic runa which, like the Old Norse rūn & rún is from the Proto-Germanic rūnō (letter, literature, secret), which is borrowed from either the Proto-Celtic rūnā or from its source.  Rune, runecraft, runology, runographer, runographic, runography, runologist, runester, runesong, runestaff, runmaster, runemistress, runecarver, runecast, runecaster, runecasting, runestone, runesmith & runework are nouns, runic, runed, runeless, runelike & runish are adjectives and runically is an adverb; the noun plural is runes.

Of the Runic

Runologists squabble over details of the historical origins of runic writing but there’s a general consensus runes were derived from one of the many Old Italic alphabets in use among the Mediterranean peoples of the first century AD, those who lived to the south of the Germanic tribes.  Earlier Germanic sacred symbols, such as those preserved in northern European rock carvings, also may have influenced the development of the script.  The transmission of writing from southern to northern Europe appears to have been spread by Germanic military formations which would have encountered Italic writing during campaigns amongst their southerly neighbours.  This hypothesis is supported by the association runes have always had with the god Odin, who, in the Proto-Germanic period (under his original name Woðanaz), was the divine model of the warrior leader. The Roman historian Tacitus noted Odin (Mercury in the interpretatio romana) was already established as the dominant god in the pantheons of many Germanic tribes by the first century AD although whether the runes and the cult of Odin arose together or one predated the other remains in dispute.  In Norse mythology however, the runes came from nothing as mundane as an old alphabet.  The runes were never invented or a product of evolution but are eternal, pre-existent forces Odin himself discovered by undergoing a tremendous ordeal.

The Hávamál

The Hávamál (Sayings of Hár, Sayings of the high one) is one of the poems of the Poetic Edda.  A kind of survival guide to for those seeking to live a good life, the form of verse varies, the most notable being where the text shifts to discuss how Odin (Odhins) gained the secret of the magical runes and came to learn the spells.  A work thus both pragmatic and philosophical, the poem’s only known source the Codex Regius, thought to date from circa 800.

The Rúnatal (Rúnatáls-tháttr-Odhins or Odins Rune Song) contains the stanzas in which Odin reveals the secret of the Runes.

I know that I hung on a windy tree

nine long nights,

Wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,

myself to myself,

on that tree of which no man knows

from where its roots run.

No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn,

downwards I peered;

I took up the runes, screaming I took them,

then I fell back from there.

The Hávamál concludes with the mystical Ljóðatal, which dwells on knowledge and the knowing of the Odinic mysteries.  A kind of dictionary which lists and provides a legend creating keys to a sequenced number of runic charms, there are linkages with the Sigrdrífumál (known often as Brynhildarljóð, a section of the Poetic Edda text in Codex Regius) in which the valkyrie Sigrdrífa details a number of the runes at her command.  In stanza 151, there’s an allusion to the sending of a tree root carved with runes, a noted motif in Norse mythology and the cause of death of Grettir the Strong.

I know a sixth one if a man wounds me

with the roots of the sap-filled wood:

and that man who conjured to harm me,

the evil consumes him, not me.

The runic-themed imagery used for the cover art of Lindsay Lohan's A Little More Personal (Raw) (2005).

Historians and archivists have devoted much attention to the Codex Regius, reconstructing its timeline from the many fragmentary sources.  The earliest writings appear to have been collections of proverbs, sayings and advice attributed to Othin, probably in the manner so much in the Bible is said to have been the words of Solomon; other dubious claims of connection exist in the texts of the Buddha, Confucius, the Prophet Muhammad and others where the documentary record can never be conclusive.  The collection was thus, probably from its earliest times, elastic in content though always known as "The High One's Words", others taking advantage of the authority Othin’s imprimatur conferred to add such poems or other sayings of wisdom they thought appropriate.  In the nature of such things, the style of writing displays a consistency, important when seeking to imply that the speaker was Othin, a process which is something of a gray area in the history of literary forgery, the later authors perhaps assured what they were adding was what Othin might have said or with which he would anyway have concurred.  So, a catalogue of runes, or charms, was later bolted-on, along with new sets of proverbs, differing in content but not in style from those in the original document.  There are some stylistic variations in form in that some verses verge upon the narrative but the structure of the whole is loose, accommodating the odd innovation without jarring effect.  It’s agreed that structurally the text exists in five parts:

(1) The Hovamol proper (stanzas 1-80): The sayings and proverbs to guide the living of life, a kind of early self-help manual.

(2) The Loddfafnismol (stanzas 111-138): Another collection similar to the first, but these more a discourse on ethics and morality and addressed specifically to a young man known as Loddfafnir.

(3) The Ljothatal (stanzas 147-165): A listing of charms.

(4) The love-story of Othin and Billing's daughter (stanzas 96-102): The love story is something of a cautionary tale, beginning as it does with a dissertation on the faithlessness and general unreliability of women (stanzas 81-95).  Scholars suggest the warning words were the first written with the rest of the poem created as an apt illustration.

(5) This is the story of how Othin got the mead of poetry, the draft document which delivered to him the gift of tongues, an indulgence from the maiden Gunnloth (stanzas 103-110).  Added to this (and obviously later) is the brief passage (stanzas 139 146) recounting Othin’s winning of the runes.  Structurally, the poem needs this section as an introduction to the Ljothatal and any good editor would have insisted on its inclusion.

Of the authorship or even the dates of the accretions, nothing can for sure be known.  All than can be said is that some is very old and some more recent which isn’t a great deal of help but anything else is merely speculative.  The text instead needs to be read as it is: a gnomic collection of the wisdom a violent race living in a brutish world written to help people survive in an unforgiving time when, days when wherever one went, one would be ill-advised to assume one was among friends.  Tellingly, women are not mentioned in the non-narrative sections of the poem, not even a nod to the advantage of having someone to cook and clean for this is very much a work about the world of men on earth, the threats and their consequences.  There’s no discussion of heaven and hell or any after-life, no judgement beyond that of one's fellow men.

Glaucus

Glaucus (pronounce gloh-kus)

(1) Bluish-green, grayish-blue, sea-colored (ie of certain seas) or a gleaming pale blue.

(2) Any member of the genus Glaucus of nudibranchiate mollusks, found in the warmer latitudes, swimming in the open sea, strikingly colored with blue and silvery white.  They’re known also as sea swallow, blue angel, blue glaucus, blue dragon, blue sea slug, blue ocean slug).  If offered the choice, the organisms presumably would prefer to be called swallows, angels or dragons rather than slugs.

(3) A desert lime (Citrus glauca), a thorny shrub species endemic to semi-arid regions of Australia.

From the Ancient Greek γλαυκός (glaukós) (the γλαῦκος (glaûkos) was an edible grey fish although the species is uncertain (perhaps the derbio)) and was taken up by the Medieval Latin as glaucus (bright, sparkling, gleaming” and “bluish-green).  There may be an Indo-European root but no link has ever been found and despite the similarity, other words used to denote gleaming or shimmering light and colors (glow, gleam etc), there’s no known etymological link and it may have been a substratum word from Pre-Greek.  The eighth century BC poet Homer used the Greek glaukos to describe the sea as “gleaming, silvery”, apparently without any suggestion of a specific color but later writers adopted it with a sense of “greenish” (of olive leaves) and “blue; gray” (of eyes).  In English, the adjective glaucous dates from the 1670s and was used to refer to shades of bluish-green or gray; it’s a popular form in botany and ornithology, describing surfaces with a powdery or waxy coating that gives a pale blue-gray appearance.  In fashion, the vagueness of glaucus (especially the adjective glaucous) makes it handy because it can be used to describe eyes or fabrics neither quite blue nor green yet really not suited to being called turquoise, teal, aqua etc.  Glaucus is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is glaucuses.

Translators seem to believe Homer's glauk-opis Athene (Athena Glaukopis) meant “bright-eyed” rather than “gray-eyed” goddess; it was an epithet emphasizing her intelligence and wisdom, the construct being glau(kos) (gleaming, silvery; bluish-green; grey) + opsis (eye; face).  The word γλαύξ (glaux) (little owl) may have been related and linked to the bird’s distinctive, penetrating stare but it may also be from a pre-Greek source.  Owls do however sometimes appear with the goddess in Greek art and, like her, became a symbol of wisdom and intelligence.  The other epithets applied to Athena included Ophthalmitis and Oxyderkous, both references to her sharp, penetrating gaze.  As a descriptor of color, glaucus was applied widely including to eyes, the sea, the sky or fabrics and was used of shining surfaces.  The descendants include the Catalan glauc, the English glaucous, the French glauque, the Romanian glauc, the Italian glauco, the Portuguese glauco, the Romanian glauc and the Spanish glauco.  The Middle English glauk (bluish-green, gray) was in use as late as the early fifteenth century.

Renaissance-era engraving of Athena, the Ancient Greek goddess of wisdom, warfare, and craft, depicted in Corinthian helmet with spear and clothed in a long πέπλος (péplos); her aegis (shield or breastplate), bearing the Gorgon's head, rests nearby.  Athena’s sacred bird, the Athene noctua (little owl) is perched atop a pile of books, symbolizing knowledge & wisdom while the creature at her feet is the chthonic serpent Erichthonius which she raised, used often to stand for the triumph of reason over chaos, thus appearing also as the sacred serpent which protected the Acropolis.  The Greek Inscription on the banner reads: ΜΟΧΘΕΙΝ ΑΝΑΓΚΗ ΤΟΥΣ ΘΕΛΟΝΤΑΣ ΕΥ ΠΡΑΤΤΕΙΝ (Those who wish to do well must undergo toil) a classical aphorism often suggested as being a paraphrasing lines from Pindar or Isocrates, extolling effort and virtue.

In the myths of Antiquity there were many tales of Glaucus and in that the character was not unusual, the figures in the stories sometimes differing in details like parentage, where they lived, the lives they led and even whether they were gods or mortals; sometimes the lives depicted bore little similarity to those in other tales.  The myths in ancient Greece were not a fixed canon in the modern Western literary tradition; they were for centuries passed down orally for centuries before being written and in different regions a poet or dramatist was likely to tell it differently.   That was not just artistic licence because the stories could be a product people would pay to hear and content providers needed new product.  Additionally, as is a well-documented phenomenon when information is passed on orally, over generations, the “Chinese whispers problem” occurs and things, organically, can change.

Lindsay Lohan’s in glaucous (in the Medieval Latin sense of gleaming as well as the color) John Galliano satin gown, worn with Santoni stilettos, Irish Wish (Netflix, 2024) premiere, Paris Theater, New York City, March, 2024.

Nor was there the modern conception of IP (intellectual property) or copyright in the characters, the myths “belonging” literally to all as a shared public cultural heritage.  Were a poet (Ovid, Homer, Hesiod etc) to “re-imagine” an old myth or use well known characters to populate a new plot, that wasn’t plagiarization but simply a creative act in interpretation or reshaping.  There were social and political determinisms in all this: We now refer casually to “Ancient Greece” but it was not a unitary state (a la modern Greece) but an aggregation of city-states with their own distinct cults, local legends and literary traditions.  So, in one region Glaucus might have been depicted as a sea-god while somewhere to the south he was a warrior; a tragedian might make Glaucus tragic, a philosopher might use him as an allegorical device and a poet might map him onto a formulaic tale of jealousy, transformation and redemption.  The best comparison is probably the fictional characters which have entered public domain (as Mickey Mouse recently achieved) and thus become available for anyone to make of what they will.  To be generous, one might suggest what the AI (artificial intelligence) companies now wish to be made lawful (vacuuming up digitized copyright material to train their LLMs (large language models) for commercial gain while not having to pay the original creators or rights holders) is a return to the literary practices of antiquity.

Lindsay Lohan’s eyes naturally (left) are in the glaucus range but with modern contact lens (right), much is possible.

So it wasn’t so much that writers felt free to adapt myths to suit their purposes but rather it would never have occurred to them there was anything strange in doing exactly that.  Significantly, any author was at any time free to create a wholly new cast for their story but just as movie producers know a film with “bankable” stars has a greater chance of success than one with talented unknowns, the temptation must have been to avoid risking market resistance and “stick to the classics”.  Additionally, what’s never been entirely certain is the extent to which the poets who wrote down what they heard were inclined to “improve” things.  The myths were in a sense entertainment but they were often also morality tales, psychological studies or statements of political ideology, a medium for exploring fate, identity, love, betrayal, divine justice and other vicissitudes of life.  The very modern notion of “authorship” would have been unfamiliar in Antiquity, a ποιητής (author; poet) being someone who “shaped” rather than “owned” them and Homer (who may not have been a single individual) was revered not because he “made up” the Trojan War, but because masterfully he recounted it, just as now historians who write vivid histories are valued. 

Some of the many lives of Glaucus (Γλαύκος)

(1) He was the son of Antenor who helped Paris abduct Helen and to punish him, his father drove him out.  He fought against the Greeks, and was said sometimes to have been slain by Agamemnon but the more common version is he was saved by Odysseus and Menelaus; as the son of Antenor, who was bound to them by ties of friendship.

(2) He was the son of Hippolochus and grandson of Bellerophon and with his cousin Sarpedon, he commanded the Lycian contingent at Troy.  In the fighting around the city, he found himself face to face with Diomedes but both recalled their families were bound by ties of friendship so the two exchanged weapons, Diomedes of bronze and Glaucus of gold.  Later, when Sarpedon was wounded, he went to assist him, but was stopped by Teucer, wounded and forced to retire from the fray.  Apollo cured Glaucus in time to recover Sarpedon's body, though he was unable to stop the Greeks stripping the corpse of its arms.  Glaucus was killed during the fight for the body of Patroclus by Ajax and on Apollo's order his body was carried back to Lycia by the winds.

(3) He was the son of Sisyphus and succeeded his father to the throne of Ephyra, which later became Corinth.  Glaucus took part in the funeral games of Pelias but was beaten in the four-horse chariot race by Iolaus; after this his mares ate him alive after being maddened either by the water of a magic well, or as a result of Aphrodite's anger, for in order to make his mares run faster Glaucus refused to let them breed, and so offended the goddess.  In another legend, this Glaucus drank from a fountain which conferred immortality. No one would believe that he had become immortal, however, so he threw himself into the sea, where he became a sea-god and every sailor who cast a gaze upon him was assured an early death.

(4) He was a sea-deity.  Glaucus was a fisherman standing on the shore when he noticed if he laid his catch upon a certain herb-covered meadow, the fish miraculously were restored to life and jumped back into the sea. Curious, he tasted the herb himself and was seized by an irresistible urge to dive into the waters where the sea goddesses cleansed him of his remaining traces of mortality.  With that, he assumed a new form, his shoulders grew broader and his legs became a fish’s tail, his cheeks developed a thick beard (tinted green like the patina of bronze) and he became a part of the oceanic pantheon.  He also received the gift of prophecy to become a protector of sailors, often giving oracles and wisdom drawn from the sea.

Glaucus et Scylla (1726), oil on canvas by Jacques Dumont le Romain (1704-1781), (Musée des Beaux-Arts de Troyes). 

(5) Virgil made him the father of the Cumaean Sibyl and he appeared to Menelaus when the latter was returning from Troy; in some traditions he is said to have built the Argo and to have accompanied the ship on its voyage.  Glaucus courted Scylla unsuccessfully, and also tried to win the favours of Ariadne when Theseus abandoned her on Naxos. In that quest he failed but Dionysus included him in his train when the god took her away and made her his wife.

(6) He was the son of Minos and Pasiphae and while still a child he was chasing a mouse when he fell into a jar of honey and drowned.  When Minos finally found his son's corpse, the Curetés told him the child could be restored to life by the man who could best describe the colour of a certain cow among his herds which changed its colour three times a day.  It first became white, then red and finally became black.  Minos asked all the cleverest men in Crete to describe the colour of the cow and it was Polyidus who answered that the cow was mulberry-coloured, for the fruit is first white, turns red, and finally goes black when ripe. Minos felt that Polyidus had solved the problem and told him to bring Glaucus back to life, shutting him up with Glaucus' body.  Polyidus was at his wits' end, until he saw a snake make its way into the room and go over towards the body. He killed the serpent but soon a second came in and, seeing the first lying dead, went out before returning carrying in its mouth a herb with which it touched its companion.  Immediately, the snake was restored to life so Polyidus rubbed this herb on Glaucus, who revived at once.  Minos, however, was still not satisfied.  Before allowing Polyidus to return to his fatherland he demanded that the soothsayer should teach Glaucus his art.  This Polyidus did, but when he was finally allowed to go, he spat into his pupil's mouth, and Glaucus immediately lost all the knowledge he had just acquired.  In other versions of the legend, it was Asclepius, not Polyidus, who brought Glaucus back to life.

Centaur

Centaur (pronounced sen-tawr)

(1) In classical mythology, one of a race of monsters having the head, trunk, and arms of a man, and the body and legs of a horse (some modern depictions prefer the upper body of a woman).  The synonym is hippocentaur.

(2) In astronomy, the constellation Centaurus (initial capital).

(3) In astronomy, any of a group of icy bodies with the characteristics of both asteroids and comets, orbiting the Sun in elliptical paths mostly in the region between Saturn & Neptune.

(4) In modern slang, a skillful (male or female) rider of a horse.

(5) In rocketry, a US-designed and built upper stage (with re-startable liquid-propellant engine), used with an Atlas or Titan booster to launch satellites and probes.

(6) In chess, team comprising a human player and a computer.

(7) By extension, in AI (artificial intelligence), a human and some form or AI, working together.

1325–1375: From the Middle English, from the Old English, from the Latin centaurus, from the Ancient Greek, from Κένταυρος (Kéntauros), thought to mean “a member of a savage race from Thessaly” although some etymologists are sceptical.  Historically, Thessaly was known as Αἰολία (Aiolía (Aeolia in modern use)) and that’s how it was referred to in the Odyssey (Homer’s epic poem from the eighth or seventh century BC); the gentlemen in Athens were very quick to describe as savages or barbarians, those from elsewhere.  The half-human, half horse Centaur from Greek mythology belongs in the class of mixtumque genus, prolesque biformis (a mixed or blended race, offspring of two forms), the phrase made famous when it appeared in the Roman poet Virgil’s (Publius Vergilius Maro (70–19 BC)) Aeneid (29-19 BC) description of the Minotaur, the mythical creature with a bull's head and a human body.  Centaur & centaurdom are nouns, centaurian is a noun & adjective and centauresque, centaurial & centauric are adjectives; the noun plural is centaurs.  The most common use of the adjective centauric was a reference to the mythological creatures (resembling or of the nature of a centaur) but in the sometimes weird world of spiritualism it was defined as "characterized by an integration of mind and body for consciousness above the ego-self" (whatever that means).  When the adjective is used in SF (SciFi or science fiction) it's with an upper case if referring to the residents or natives of the constellation Centaurus.  The case difference matters because there no reason why in SF half human, half-horse beasts can't be part of the ecosystem in Centaurus and they would have to be described as Centauric centaurs.  In fantasy fiction, a centauress was a female centaur (a she-centaur) and the term centaurette has also been used; it does not (as the -ette prefix might be thought to imply) mean a “a small centaur”.  Presumably, a centauress, while possessing the secondary sex characteristics of a human female could, anatomically, in the hind quarters either colt, stallion, filly or mare so it could be helpful if authors differentiated centauress & centaurette thus.

Centaurus, copperplate engraving by Polish astronomer Johannes Hevelius (1611–1687) from Firmamentum Sobiescianum sive Uranographia (1687), his atlas of constellations.  In English, the southern constellation of Centaurus has been so described since the 1550 but was known by that name to the Romans and known as a centaur to the Greeks.  The ninth largest constellation, visible in the far southern sky in the months around March, since classical times, it has been confused with Sagittarius.

Judy Volker’s annotation of Sea & Sky’s sky-chart of the Centaurus constellation.

Centaurus is one of two constellations said to represent Centaurs and is associated primarily with Chiron (Cheiron), a wise, immortal being who was King of the Centaurs and said to be a scholar and prophet skilled in the healing arts.  In some of the myths, from his cave on Mount Pelion, he is said to have raised, tutored, or counselled several figures prominent in Greek mythology, including Jason, Heracles and Asclepius.  Of Chiron's association with the constellation, there are several tales.  In one legend, Chiron was the first to identify the constellations and teach them to mortal humans, placing an image of himself in the sky to help guide Jason on his quest for the Golden Fleece.  A different story has Chiron was placed in the sky by Zeus and of this telling there are variants but the most common element is Chiron being accidentally wounded by a poisoned arrow and giving up his immortality as a way to escape the never-ending pain.  A twist on this has Chiron simply bored with life and wanting it to be over and this came to the attention of Prometheus, the Titan undergoing permanent torture for stealing fire from the gods to give to humans.  For Prometheus to be released from his torture, an immortal had to volunteer to renounce eternal life and go to Tartarus in his place.  Someone (Zeus, Heracles, or Chiron himself depending on the author) suggested Chiron's offer be used to release Prometheus and for this Zeus honored Chiron with his place in the sky.  There’s even a tale in which the constellation represents the Centaur Pholus, honoured thus by Zeus for his skill in prophecy.

Lindsay Lohan AI generated as a centaur by EnjoyLingerie on DeviantArt.

In astronomy, a centaur is a small, icy celestial body orbiting the Sun in an in elliptical paths, most tracking between Jupiter and Neptune, the name gained from them typically having the characteristics of both asteroids and comets, the dual-nature the link with the half-human, half-horse from mythology.  Centaurs are considered transitional objects which may originally have been Kuiper Belt Objects and often have unstable orbits due to gravitational interactions with the giant planets.  Orbiting mostly between 5.5-30 AU (an “astronomical unit the average distance between the Earth and Sun (about 150 million km (93 million miles)) from the sun, such is the gravitational effect of the big planets that most centaurs (which range in diameter between 100-400 km (60-250 miles) are expected over millennia to be sent into the inner solar system or even ejected into interstellar space.  Astronomers first became aware of the objects in 1977 with the discovery of Chiron but the technology of the time didn’t permit the structure fully to be understood and the body was thus initially classified both as a comet (95P/Chiron) and minor planet.  It was improvements in observational hardware which demonstrated that while appearing as asteroids, when closer to the sun the comet-like behavior of developing a coma or tail will manifest.  The largest known centaur is 10199/Chariklo.  Listed as a minor planet, it orbits the Sun between Saturn and Uranus and in 2014 it was announced it possessed two rings (nicknamed Oiapoque and Chuí after the rivers that define Brazil's borders), the existence confirmed by observing a stellar occultation.  One implication of the rings is that it likely also has at least one shepherd moon and infrared images indicate the Chariklo is named after the nymph Chariclo (Χαρικλώ), the wife of Chiron and the daughter of Apollo.

Front (left) and rear (right) covers of the album Ride a Rock Horse (1975) by The Who's lead singer Roger Daltrey (b 1944).  The artwork was done by his cousin Graham Hughes who produced a number of album covers during the 1970s.

Things rarely were consistent in the evolution of the myths from Antiquity and the mythical centaurs were described variously as being wholly equine from (human) torso down or with the from parts of the legs also human, the latter a popular depiction during the Medieval period while in Classical era, they had four horses' hooves and two human arms.  Living on raw flesh and inhabiting mountains and forests, they were descended either from Centaurus (the son of Apollo & Stilbe) or of Ixion & Nephele although the Centaurs Chiron and Pholus were of a different descent lineage: Chiron was the son of Philyra & Cronus while Pholus was fathered by Silenus and born of an unnamed Nymph; what distinguished that pair was that unlike the other herds, they were hospitable and non-violent.  The cooking of food being a marker of civilization, it was recorded that when Heracles was hunting the Erymanthian boar, he visited Pholus who received him hospitably, giving him cooked meat whereas Pholus himself ate exclusively raw food.  When Heracles asked for wine, Pholus told him that there was only one jar, which either belonged communally to the Centaurs or had been a gift from Dionysus who had told them to open it only if Heracles should be their guest.  Telling his host not to be afraid, Pholus broke the seal but when the Centaurs smelled the wine they galloped from the mountains, armed with rocks, fir trees and torches to attack the cave.  The first two Centaurs to attack were Anchius and Agrius (killed by Heracles) but Pholus was killed in the aftermath of the fight: while burying a fallen Centaur he drew one of Heracles' poisoned arrows from a wound but it fell from his grasp, piercing his leg and almost instantly he died.  Heracles drove off the remaining Centaurs and pursued them to Cape Malea where they took refuge with Chiron.  In the ensuing battle Heracles shot Elatus in the elbow, but Chiron either dropped one of Heracles' arrows on his foot or was shot in the knee by Heracles.  The wounds of Heracles' arrows could not be healed and the immortal Chiron begged the gods to make him mortal.  It was Prometheus agreed to take on his immortality, and Chiron died, leaving most of the Centaurs to take refuge in Eleusis.  Their mother (Nephele) aided them by summoning a rain storm but that didn’t deter Heracles who slaughtered a dozen including Daphnis, Argeius, Amphion, Hippotion, Oreius, Ispoples, Melanchaetes, Thereus, Doupon, Phrixus & Homadus.

Wedding reception gone bad: Rape of Hippodamia (The Lapiths and the Centaurs) (1636-1637), oil on canvas by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640), Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, Spain.  The painting was one of a large cycle of mythologies by Rubens for the Torre de la Parada, Philip IV's (1605–1665; King of Spain 1621-1665 and (as Philip III) King of Portugal 1621-1640) newly built hunting lodge on the outskirts of Madrid.  One of Rubens’ oil sketches for the work is on display at Musees Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique in Brussels, Belgium and is of interest to art students and critics because of the detail differences in the final composition.

The Centaurs also fought a legendary battle against the Lapiths (a Thessalian people who originally inhabited Pindus, Pelion and Ossa; they drove out the native people, the Pelasgians).  Pirithous invited the Centaurs (who regarded themselves as his parents) to his wedding feast and it went well until, unaccustomed to the effects of wine, the Centaurs became drunk and one of them tried to rape (in the classical sense of "abduction") Deidamia (Pirithous' bride and more commonly known as Hippodamia), resulting in a violent brawl which ended with the Lapiths driving the Centaurs out of Thessaly after killing many.  Containing so many wonderful subjects (Centaurs, a feast, a rape scene, a brawl), the disrupted wedding reception (which came to be known as “the Centauromachy”) for centuries drew artists to the theme.  In Antiquity the Centaurs got a bad press because and they appear in other appear in other legends involving rape, abductions and violence.  In many ways the myths can be deconstructed as violent soap operas with an undercurrent of licentiousness, typified by the tales of Eurytion attempting to rape Hippolyta or Mnesimache, the daughter of Dexamenus.  In one version Dexamenus had betrothed his daughter to Azan (an Arcadian) and Eurytion (again as a guest at the wedding feast) attempted a kidnapping but was saved by the hero Heracles arrived in time to kill him, returning bride safely to groom.  Most scribes were member of the Heracles admiration society and there also the story of how Heracles, on his way to Augias, seduced the girl, promising to marry her upon his return.  While he was away, forcibly she was betrothed to Eurytion but just as the wedding ceremony was about to begin, Heracles stormed in, killed the Centaur and had himself declared her husband.

1976 Chrysler Centura GL.  Despite the visual resemblance, the (optional) styled steel wheels were unrelated to those used on Oldsmobiles between 1966-1987.

Whatever processes led to Chrysler Australia adopting the name “Centura” for their local version of the European Chrysler 180 (1970-1982) may still exist in the corporation’s archives but it seems the details have never been published though it can be assumed it was not an Anglicized adaptation of the Romanian centură (belt, girdle).  In Latin centum meant "one hundred" and the term centuria referred to (1) a unit of the Roman army, nominally consisting of 100 soldiers (historians suggest in practice the establishments varied between 60-160) and headed by a centurion, (2) in real estate a unit of area, equal to 100 heredia or 200 iugera (circa 125 acres (50  hectares)), (3) a group of citizens eligible to vote, the system apparently one of the reforms introduced by Servius Tullius (king of Rome 578-535 BC) and based on the ownership of land, one of the many systems which, over millennia, have codified a relationship between ownership of property (usually land) with a right to in some way participate in the polity (usually by voting) and (4) figuratively or literally, things in some way related to "100".  In modern Romance languages, things of course evolved: the Romanian centura (belt or girdle) was from the French ceinture (belt), from the Latin cinctura (girdle, belt), thus by extension used also to refer to the to beltways (ring roads) around cities.  In Spanish & Portuguese, the related cintura (waist; belt) is from the same Latin root cingere (to gird; surround).

The name of the short-lived Chrysler Centura (1975-1978) may have been an allusion to the Centaurs of myth because, like them it had a dual nature, combining the platform of a European four-cylinder with a much more powerful (and heavier) Australian built six.  That had been a concept Holden (the General Motors (GM) outpost) in 1969 introduced when they installed their six-cylinder engine in a modified Vauxhall Viva and called it the Torana.  It proved a great success and Ford Australia in 1972 responded by fitting it’s even bigger sixes to the Cortina which, being longer than the Viva, didn’t need the four inch (100 mm) odd stretch of the wheelbase required for things (tightly) to fit in the Torana.  Given the way local journalists would within a few years decry the inherently unbalanced Cortina six, it is remarkable how well the press received it upon debut.

1975 Chrysler Centura brochure shot (GL left; XL right).

Had the Centura been released in 1973 as planned, it might have been a success but the timing was unfortunate, the decision by the French government of Georges Pompidou (1911–1974; President of France 1969-1974) to conduct tests of nuclear weapons in its South Pacific territories causing the trade unions to blacklist French goods arriving in ports (Australian trade unions in those days running an independent foreign policy and the ACTU (Australian Council of Trade Unions) a kind of co-government).  As a consequence, it wasn’t until 1975 the Centura arrived in showrooms and by then the market had moved on, competition rather more intense.  Although the Centura offered class-leading performance (indeed, in a straight line it could out-run some V8s) by virtue of its optional 4.0 litre (245 cubic inch) straight-six, increasingly buyers were more tempted by the equipment levels and perceptions (sometimes true) of superior build quality and economy of operation offered by vehicles with origins in the Far East.  As it was, Chrysler in 1976 began local production of the Japanese Mitsubishi Sigma and it proved a great success, even without the six cylinder engine once thought such a selling point.  Tellingly, although a prototype Centura with the 5.2 litre (318 cubic inch) V8 was built, the project rapidly was abandoned.  Officially, the explanation was the body structure lacked the rigidity to come with the additional torque, the same reason Ford never contemplated their V8 Cortina entering production; engineers familiar with the structures of both platforms agree that was true of the Cortina but maintain the Centura was robust enough and suspect both companies, having observed the subdued demand for the V8 Holden Toranas (1974-1978) decided Holden was welcome to its exclusive presence in the niche sector.  Fewer than 20,000 Centuras were built during its dismal three year run, a fraction of what was projected as its annual production.

Stormy Daniels (2019) by Robert Crumb (b 1943).

It’s not known if than Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 & since 2025) is a student of Greek mythology (stranger things have happened) but he did provide us with his unique version of the half horse, half human beast, labeling pornographic actress & director Stormy Daniels (Stephanie Gregory Clifford; b 1979) “horse face”.  In May, 2024, the memorable phrase returned to the news as matters came before court related to “hush money” allegedly paid to Ms Daniels (on behalf the of the President) in exchange for her maintaining a silence about a certain “intimate encounter” they had shared, their apparently brief tryst including her spanking him on the butt with a rolled-up magazine featuring his picture on the cover.  Mr Trump denies not only the spanking but the very encounter, claiming it never happened.  To give a flavor of the proceedings, at one point counsel asked Ms Daniels: “Am I correct in that you hate President Trump?” to which she replied: “Yes.”  No ambiguity there and although not discussed in court, her attitude may not wholly be unrelated to Mr Trump’s rather ungracious description of her as “horse face”.  Really, President Trump should have been more respectful towards a three-time winner of F.A.M.E.'s (Fans of Adult Media and Entertainment) much coveted annual “Favorite Breasts” award.

Death of a Centaur (1912), oil on canvas by Arthur Lemon (1850–1912).  For Lemon, the Centaur was what would now be called his "spirit animal" and the work was painted when he was close to death. 

Born on the Isle of Mann, Arthur Lemon spent his childhood in Rome before moving to California to work as a cowboy; there he became a devotee of what he would call en plain air (by which he meant “an outdoor life”.  Later he would return to Europe to study art and for the rest of his life he would travel between Italy and England where regularly he staged exhibitions at London's Royal Academy; his work most associated with scenes of the Italian countryside and the daily lives of the rural peasantry.  Lemon's fine eye for painting a Centaur was a thing of practice.  He became close friends with English artist Henry Scott Tuke (1858–1929), noted for his prolific output of works in the Impressionist tradition focused on nude adolescent boys and during the 1880s the pair for a time lived Florence where they “spent time sketching male nudes in the Italian sunshine.”

The Wooing of Daphnis (exhibited 1881), oil on canvas by Arthur Lemon.

Daphnis possessed the youthful beauty of the kind idealized by Tuke and the many nymphs who so adored him.  A victim of that beauty, his life ended badly.  The artistic approach of Lemon and Tuke was interesting in that their nude youths often were shown in a contemporary setting and in that they differed from the many paintings and sculptures of Ancient Greek gods and mythological which, historically, enabled an exploration of the male nude without upsetting public decency; what Lemon and Tuke especially did was eroticise their young subjects.  From his time as a cowboy, Lemon was well acquainted with the physicality of the horse and knew from his studies that in Greek art Centaurs often were depicted as highly sexed figures; being not wholly human, Centaurs could be treated as creatures able to ignore the strict moral expectations of society and accordingly, formed their own community.  Lemon and Tuke in their own ways noted this and both took the Centaur as something of a model although while Lemon devoted much of his energy to painting horses, Tuke’s attention on the nude male youth was an obsession and today, among sections of the gay community, he’s a minor cult.