Tiara

Tiara (pronounced tee-ar-uh, tee-ahr-uh or tee-air-uh (non-U))

(1) A jeweled, usually semi-circular, ornamental coronet worn by women.

(2) In the Roman Catholic Church. a head-piece consisting of three coronets on top of which is an orb and a cross, once worn by the pope, or carried before him during certain non-liturgical functions; a symbol of the position, authority and dignity of the pope.

(3) A high headdress, or turban, worn by the ancient Persian Kings and other men of rank.

1545–1555: An English borrowing, via Italian, from the Latin tiara (headdress) from the Ancient Greek tiā́ra & the Ionic τιήρης (tiḗrēs) (a kind of turban).  The etymology of the Latin and Greek forms is wholly unknown.  In English, there was an earlier anglicized form tiar, attested from the 1510s and tiara became common by the eighteenth century.  Tiara is a noun, tiaraed is a verb & adjective and tiaraless, betiared & tiaralike are adjectives (tiaraesque seems not to have appeared); the noun plural is tiaras.

The Triple Tiara

Sultan Süleyman the Magnificent (circa 1545), woodcut by an unknown Venetian artist.  Historians suspect the depiction of the splendid jewel-studded helmet was substantially accurate but the object may simply have been too heavy safely to wear for all but static, set-piece events, the risk of injury to the neck too great.  Still, he had four tiers so: "Take that pope!"

The papal triple tiara is the final form of a crown which worn by popes of the Roman Catholic Church between the eighth century and 1963.  Traditionally it was worn for their coronation but no pontiff has been so crowned since Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) in 1963 and his abandonment was in the spirit of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965).  The name tiara refers to the entire headgear and it has used a three-tiered form since a third crown was added during the Avignon Papacy (1309–1378) and it's referred to also as the triregnum, triregno or Triple Crown.  In a piece of one-upmanship (perhaps one tiership), Suleiman I (Süleyman the Magnificent, 1494-1566, Sultan of the Ottoman Empire 1520-1566) commissioned from Venice a four tier helmet to show, in addition to the authority claimed by popes, he could add the symbol of his imperial power.  Often put on display as the centrepiece of Ottoman regalia to impress visitors, there's no documentary evidence the sultan ever wore the four layer tiara, crowns not part of the tradition and, fashioned from gold and gemstones, it would anyway have been extraordinarily heavy.

Lindsay Lohan, the wandering daughter who ran off to Dubai in Lynn Kiracofe tiara, W Magazine photo- shoot, April 2005.

A representation of the triregnum combined with two crossed keys of Saint Peter continues to be used as a symbol of the papacy and appears on papal documents, buildings and insignia.  Remarkably, there’s no certainty about what the three crowns symbolize.  Some modern historians link it to the threefold authority of the pope, (1) universal pastor, (2) universal ecclesiastical jurisdiction and (3) temporal power.  Others, including many biblical scholars, interpret the three tiers as meaning (1) father of princes and kings, (2) ruler of the world and (3) vicar of Christ on Earth, a theory lent credence by the words once used when popes were crowned:  Accipe tiaram tribus coronis ornatam, et scias te esse patrem principum et regum, rectorem orbis in terra vicarium Salvatoris nostri Jesu Christi, cui est honor et gloria in saecula saeculorum (Receive the tiara adorned with three crowns and know that thou art father of princes and kings, ruler of the world, vicar on earth of our Savior Jesus Christ, to whom is honor and glory for ever and ever).

Escutcheons of the Holy See (left) and the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or (right).

Curiously, the brace of crossed keys appear also in the symbols used the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or (The Golden Keys) which is the international association of hotel concierges; the similarities between their escutcheon and that of the Holy See are quite striking.  According to the Roman Catholic Church's Inquisition (the old Holy Office, now officially known as the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF)), the crossed keys are a symbol of the Papacy's authority and power, representing the "keys of heaven" that in the New Testament were passed from Jesus Christ to Saint Peter.  In Roman Catholic tradition, Peter was appointed by Jesus as the first Pope and given the keys to symbolize his authority to forgive sins and to make decisions binding on behalf of the Church (this the theological basis of what in canon law was codified in the nineteenth century as papal infallibility).  The two keys thus symbolize the pope's two powers: (1) spiritual power (represented by the silver key) and (2) temporal power (represented by the gold key).  The latter power manifested in a most temporal manner during the thousand-odd years (between the eighth & nineteenth centuries) when the authority of the papal absolute theocracy extended to rule and govern the Papal States (which were interpolated into the modern state of Italy upon Italian unification (1859-1870).  Claiming (officially) only temporal dominion, the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d'Or logo depicts both their keys in gold, one said to symbolize the concierge's role in unlocking the doors to the world for their guests, the other their ability to unlock the secrets of their destination and provide insider knowledge and recommendations (restaurant bookings, airport transfers, personal service workers of all types etc).  However, neither the Vatican nor the Les Clefs d’Or have ever denied intelligence-sharing, covert operations, common rituals or other links.

Documents in the Vatican Archive suggest by 1130 the papal tiara had been modified to become a conventional (and temporal) symbol of sovereignty over the Papal States.  In 1301, during a dispute with Philip IV (Philip the Fair, 1268–1314, King of France 1285-1314), Boniface VIII (circa 1230–1303; pope 1294-1303) added a second layer to represent a pope’s spiritual authority being superior to an earthly king’s civil domain.  It was Benedict XII (1285–1342; pope 1334-1342 (as the third Avignon pope)) who in 1342 who added the third, said to symbolize the pope’s moral authority over all civil monarchs, and to reaffirm Avignon’s possession.  A changing world and the loss of the Papal States in 1970 deprived the triple crown of much temporal meaning but the silver tiara with the three golden crowns remained to represent the three powers of the Supreme Pontiff: Sacred Order, Jurisdiction and Magisterium.

Coronation of Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978), 30 June 1963 (left), the triple tiara created for Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) (centre) and the coronation of Pius XII, 12 March, 1939 (right).  Historians sometimes describe the reign of Pius XII as "the last imperial papacy". 

Not since 1963 has a pope worn the triple crown.  Then, Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978), at the end of his coronation ceremony, took the tiara from his head and, in what was said to be a display of humility, placed it on the altar.  The act may have been thought symbolic of the winds of change being brought by the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965, published 1970) and it was certainly theologically defensible but cynical observers (and among Vaticanologists there are a few) would soon come to interpret as emblematic of Paul VI's pontificate.  Apparently, he'd not wanted to be crowned but acceded to the wishes of the tradition-bound curia and in a compromise, "took it off shortly after it was put on".  Thus proceeded the next 15 years during which Paul came to be known as the "Vatican's Hamlet" because he always found it hard to make a decision.  However, in a practical expression of his act of humility, the triple tiara was auctioned, the money raised used for missionary work in Africa although, keeping things in house, the winning bidder was the well-funded (this was before the need to pay compensation to victims of clerical sex-abuse) Archdiocese of New York.  That allocation proved a good investment because Africa has been a growth market for the church, unlike increasingly Godless Europe and elsewhere in the West.  Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) and Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) received triple tiaras as gifts but neither wore them.  Benedict’s, in a nice ecumenical touch, was made by Bulgarian craftsmen from the Orthodox Church in Sofia, a gesture in the name of Christian unity.  Benedict would have appreciated that, having always kept a candle burning in the window, there to guide home the wandering daughter who ran off to Constantinople.

The wandering film star who ran off to Monte Carlo

Former Hollywood film star Grace Kelly (1929–1982; Princess Consort of Monaco 1956-1982), in tiara, pre-wedding photograph, 1956 (a necklace with stones arrayed in this form is styled a Golconda).  The car is a 1963 Thunderbird Limited Edition Landau, known colloquially as the “Princess Grace Edition”.  When the engagement was announced, the joke soon circulated: "When they're a little girl they want to be a princess, when they grow up they want to be a film star, when they're a film star they want to be a princess."

Princess Grace of Monaco was often seen in a tiara (they’re part of the “princess uniform”) and in the same year Paul IV was the last pope to be crowned, she had the pleasure of learning a Ford produced in the US had picked up the nickname “Princess Grace Edition” although Ford’s internal project name was “Thunderbird Special Edition Principality of Monaco” and it was released as a 1963 model with the name: “Thunderbird Limited Edition Landau”.  Produced in a run of 2000 during the final season of the third-generation Thunderbird (1961-1963), all but one were virtually identical and each received an individually number plaque.  The connection to principality & princess wasn’t tenuous because she was consulted on the color scheme and her husband (Rainier III (Rainier Louis Henri Maxence Bertrand Grimaldi, (1923–2005; Prince of Monaco 1949-2005)) received Landau Number 1 as a gift; presumably that was the quid pro quo (from the Latin quid prō quō (literally “something for something”).  The prince’s Landau Number One differed in a number of details from the other 1999 in the run in that it was a one-off build for the prince, one difference being the inclusion of the crest of the Principality of Monaco on a plaque made of silver while all others had one of chrome-plated steel with a brushed aluminum insert faceplate.  In the usual way such “limited edition” plaques were done, they were emblazoned with “Limited Edition Thunderbird Landau”, the serial number (nnnn of 2000) “World Premiere” & “Principality of Monaco”, the latter in a script font.  The features which distinguished the Landau were:

Corinthian White paint.
Dark Rose Beige vinyl roof.
Pearl White leather interior trim with Rose Beige seats.
Dark Rose Beige padded dash & carpet, including carpeted door trim panel bottoms (the only 1963 Thunderbirds so equipped).
Simulated Rosewood trim on console, instrument panel, door panels, rear quarter trim panels, and seat back emblem inserts (these were otherwise in color-keyed vinyl).
Deluxe wheel covers.
Rear fender skirts (spats).
White steering wheel with unique centre-boss insert.
White background on S-Bar inserts.
Monotone vinyl door and quarter trim panels.

Vogue Magazine’s six-page advertising feature, 15 February, 1963.

The princess apparently suggested beige for the paintwork on the basis it was her favorite color but there was some debate within the corporation and the planning committee’s minutes of the final meeting on 19 September, 1962 record the decision “unanimously” was taken to opt for Corinthian White over Rose Beige, that rationale being the combination was close to that used on Monaco’s national flag.  The “Dark Rose Beige” used for the vinyl roof was a noticeably deeper hue than the “Rose Beige” offered as a RPO (regular production option) on the standard Thunderbird line and was really closer to maroon while the shade used for the seats, while lighter than the roof, was darker than what was available for other Thunderbirds.  The roof covering on the Limited Edition Landaus proved prone to fading if exposed to strong sunlight and within a few years, many appeared a very different color.

Vogue Magazine fashion feature, 15 February, 1963.

Vogue took advantage of the having the Thunderbird available by using it as a backdrop for the photo-shoot to accompany “The rush to little suède dazzlers; to leathers that mix”; the location was Cagnes-sur-Mer, a fortified medieval town on the Riviera “with all the appropriate thrall.”  The model’s dress and set-in belt were by Highlander, the cardigan of Fleming-Joffe leather, the handbag by Roger Model, jewellery by Peladan with Bryans stockings inside Aimont red shoes.  Vogue however got the car wrong in captioning the picture: “Ford's creamy, brand-new, limited-edition Thunderbird Landau.  It's turned out in such small numbers that each car has a number; all are a cool cream-white, inside and out, roofed, carpeted and accented in warm tones of rosy beige.”  The Limited Edition Landaus had the Rose Beige upholstery while the car in the photo-shoot was a regular production model.  The other curiosity is a smiling model, a rare sight in fashion photography where the usual expression is the “studied neutral” which catwalk models are trained to use.  

The connection to European royalty had obvious sales appeal but Ford’s motivation was pragmatic, sales of the “Bullet Bird” (the nickname an allusion to the projectile-like lines) having declined in 1962 and with it being common knowledge a new version was scheduled for 1964, what was needed was something to stimulate demand, thus the conjuring up of a “package”, a tactic on which the industry would increasingly come to rely.  This choice of a “Monaco” theme was to take advantage of Ford Falcons competing in that year’s Monte Carlo Road Rally (one Falcon would win its class) and the principality was thus used as the location for the photo-shoot for that year’s mid season (the so-called “1963-½” cars) publicity campaign including the Galaxie 500 XL Sports Hardtop, Fairlane Sports Coupe and Falcon Hardtop; having a prince and princess associated with the fanciest Ford of all was icing on the gingerbread.  While all the Ford’s shipped to Monaco to be photographed for what was dubbed the “Ford Command Performance campaign” were variously red, white or blue, the princess’s preferred beige was seen because Ford also sent one Sandshell Beige Falcon Squire Station Wagon; converted to a ambulance, it was donated to the Red Cross to be used during the running of the rally.

Peculiar

Peculiar (pronounced pi-kyool-yer)

(1) Something thought strange, queer, odd, eccentric, bizarre.

(2) Something uncommon or unusual.

(3) Distinctive in nature or character from others.

(4) Belonging characteristically to something.

(5) Belonging exclusively to some person, group, or thing.

(6) In astronomy, designating a star or galaxy with special properties that deviates from others of its spectral type or galaxy class.

(7) A property or privilege belonging exclusively or characteristically to a person.

(8) In the Church of England, a particular parish or church that is exempted from the jurisdiction of the ordinary or bishop in whose diocese it lies and is governed by another.

(9) In printing and typesetting, special characters not generally included in standard type fonts, as phonetic symbols, mathematical symbols etc (such as ±§¿).  Also called arbitraries.

1400-1450: From the late Middle English, from the Old French peculiaire and directly from the Latin pecūliāris (as one's own property), from pecūlium (private property (literally "property in cattle") a derivative of pecū (flock, farm animals) from pecus (cattle) (in Antiquity, the ownership of cattle was an important form of wealth).  The meaning “unusual” dates from circa 1600, a development of the earlier idiom “distinguished or special”.  The meaning "unusual, uncommon; odd" emerged by circa 1600, an evolution from the earlier "distinguished, special, particular, select" which was in use by at least the 1580s.  The euphemistic phrase "peculiar institution" (slavery; "peculiar" used here in the sense of "exclusive to the "slave states") dates from the 1830s when it was used in speeches by Southern politician John C Calhoun (1782-1850) and it was a standard part of the US political lexicon until abolition.  In ecclesiastical administration, peculiar was used in the sense of "distinct from the auspices of the diocese in which it's located".  Peculiar is a noun & adjective, peculiarize is a verb, peculiarity is a noun and peculiarly is an adverb; the noun plural is peculiars.

Photographers will use the natural environment to produce peculiar effects which can be striking: This is Lindsay Lohan straked by sunlight & shadow from a photo session by Ellen Von Unwerth (b 1954) for Vogue Italia, August 2010.  The caption “Ho fatto terribili sbagli dai quali però ho imparato molto.  Probabilmente per questo sono ancora viva” translates from the Italian as “I've made terrible mistakes, but I've learned a lot from them.  That's probably why I'm still alive.”

In the Church of England, a peculiar is an ecclesiastical district, parish, chapel or church which operates outside the jurisdiction of the bishop and archdeacon of the diocese in which they are situated. Most are Royal Peculiars subject to the direct jurisdiction of the monarch but some are those under another archbishop, bishop or dean.  The arrangement originated in Anglo-Saxon times and developed as a result of the relationship between the Norman and Plantagenet Kings and the English Church. King Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) retained Royal Peculiars following the Reformation and the Ecclesiastical Licences Act (1533), as confirmed by the Act of Supremacy (1559), transferred to the sovereign the jurisdiction which previously been exercised by the pope.  Surprisingly, most peculiars survived the Reformation but, with the exception of Royal Peculiars, almost all were abolished during the nineteenth century by various acts of parliament.  Mostly harmless among Anglicans, the concept existed also in the Roman-Catholic Church where it caused a few difficulties, usually because of bolshie nuns in convents answerable to Rome and not the local bishop.  The bishops, used to obedience, even if grudging, enjoyed this not at all.

One archaic-sounding peculiarity in the sometimes intersecting world of geopolitics and diplomatic conventions is that on the Chrysanthemum Throne sits an emperor yet there is no Japanese empire.  Actually, despite the institution having a history stretching back millennia, no empires remain extant and some of the more recent (such as the Central African Empire (1976-1979)) have been dubious constructions.  Despite that, the Japanese head of state remains an emperor which seems strange but the reasons the title has endured are historical, linguistic & diplomatic.  The Japanese sovereign’s native title is 天皇 (Tennō (literally “Heavenly Sovereign” and best understood in the oft-used twentieth century phrase “Son of Heaven”).  When, in the mid 1800s, the Western powers first began their engagement with Japan, the diplomatic protocol specialists soon worked out there was in their languages no exact term which exactly encapsulated Tennō and because “king” historically was lower in status than “emperor”, that couldn’t be used because, the Japanese court regarding itself as equal to (in reality probably “superior to”) the ruling house in China, it would have implied a loss of face.  So, on the basis of the precedent of the Chinese 皇帝 (huángdì (Emperor), Tennō entered English (and other European languages) translated as “emperor”.  This solved most potential problems by placing the Japanese sovereign on the same level as the Chinese Emperor & Russian Tsar.

Cars of the Chrysanthemum Throne: Emperor Akihito (b 1933; Emperor of Japan 1989-2019) waving while leaving Tokyo's Imperial Palace in 2006 Toyota Century (left) and the 2019 Toyota Century four-door parade cabriolet (right).  Although in the West, Toyota in 1989 created the Lexus brand for the upper middle class (and hopefully above), the royal household has for years been supplied with Toyotas, some of them with bespoke coachwork and interior appointments although mechanical components come from the Toyota/Lexus parts bin.  The four-door cabriolet replaced a 1990 Rolls-Royce Corniche DHC (drophead coupé) which, having only two doors made less easy an elegant ingress or egress.

As things turned out, the linguistic pragmatism turned out to be predictive because during the Meiji period (1868-1912), Japan emerged as a modern imperial power, with colonies in Taiwan, Korea and other places.  After World War II (1939-1945), the empire was dissolved but the imperial institution was retained, a fudge the Allied powers tacitly had conceded as an alternative to insisting on the “unconditional surrender” the Potsdam Declaration (26 July, 1945) had demanded.  Tennō thus remained the head of state’s title and in English it has continued to be rendered as “Emperor”, a nod more to historical continuity than diplomatic courtesy.  In a practical sense, this represented no obvious challenge because being styled “The Emperor” was geographically vague, unlike the king in the UK who obviously ceased to be called “Emperor of India” after the Raj was dissolved with the granting of Indian independence in 1947.  The peculiar anomaly of an emperor without an empire remains peculiar to Japan.

Peculiar has a range of meanings.  One is the sense of something “uniquely peculiar to” meaning an attribute or something else shared with no other and sometimes things one thought peculiar to one thing or another are proved not so unique.  Saturn’s lovely rings were once thought peculiar to that planet but exploration and advances in observational technology meant that by the late twentieth century it could be revealed Jupiter, Uranus & Neptune all had ring systems, albeit more modest than those of Saturn but they were there.  Non-realistic art has often for its impact depended on a depiction of the peculiar: blue trees, flying dogs and green people once all enough to shock.  This too can change.  Once, a painting of a black swan would have seemed peculiar because, as the Roman saying went rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno (a bird as rare upon the earth as a black swan).  The accepted fact was that all swans were white.  However, late in the seventeenth century, Dutch explorers visiting what is now the coast of Western Australia became the first Europeans to see black swans and event subsequently picked up in philosophy as the “black swan moment”, referencing the implications of an accepted orthodoxy of impossibility being disproven, later developed into the “black swan logical fallacy” which became a term used when identifying falsification.

However, the two meanings can co-exist in the one sentence such as: (1) “Fortunately, the most peculiar of the styling motifs Plymouth used on the 1961 range remained peculiar to that single season” or (2) “On the basis of comments from experts in the linguistics community, Lindsay Lohan's peculiar new accent seems peculiar to her.”  In each case the first instance was used in the sense of “strange or weird” while the second suggested “uniqueness”.  Because in sentence construction, unless done for deliberate effect, there's some reluctance to repeat what may be called “noticeable words” (ie those which “stick out” because they’re rare or in some way unusual), writers can be tempted by the sin of what Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) called “elegant variation”.  Although willing to concede inelegance had its place as a literary or dramatic device (rather as a soprano with a lovely voice sometimes has to sing an aria which demands she sounds “ugly”), Henry Fowler preferred all sentences to be elegant.  Elegance however was a product and not a process, and he cautioned “young writers” (those older presumably written off as beyond redemption) against following what had become established as a “misleading rules of thumb”: Never to use the same word twice in a sentence or within 20 lines or other limit.”  His view was that if unavoidable, repetition, elegantly done was preferable to the obviously contrived used of synonyms such as (1) monarch, king, sovereign, ruler or (2) women, ladies, females, the variants there just to comply with a non-existent rule.  Predictably, the law was singled out as repeat offender, the use of “suits, actions & cases appearing in the one sentence to describe the same thing pointlessly clumsy in what was merely a list in which a repeated use of “cases” would had added clarity although that quality is not one always valued by lawyers.   

Peculiar in the sense of something bizarre: 1961 Plymouth Fury Convertible.  It must have seemed a good idea at the time and never has there been anything to suggest the stylists were under the influence of stimulants stronger than caffeine or nicotine.

Sometimes something thought peculiar can be described as “funny-peculiar” to distinguish it from something disturbing: peculiarities can be thought of as perversions.  In 1906, an embittered and vengeful Friedrich von Holstein (1837–1909; between 1876-1906, an éminence grise in the foreign office of the German Empire) sent a letter to the diplomat Prince “Phili” Phillip of Eulenburg (1847–1921), the man he blamed for ending of his long and influential career:

“My dear Phili – you needn’t take this beginning as a compliment since nowadays to call a man ‘Phili” means – well, nothing very flattering… I am now free to handle you as one handles such a contemptible person with your peculiarities.”

From this incendiary note ensued a series of legal proceedings exploring the allegations of “unnatural conduct” (homosexual activity) levelled against Prince Phillip, proceedings which involved a roll-call of characters, many with motives which went beyond their strict legal duty and a few with their own agendas.  The matter of Phili’s “peculiarities” was of real political (and potentially constitutional) significance, not merely because homosexuality was punishable under the criminal code (although the statute was rarely enforced) but because the prince had for decades been the closest friend of the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918).  To this day, the exact nature of the relationship between the two remains uncertain.

Carnival

Carnival (pronounced kahr-nuh-vuhl)

(1) A traveling amusement show, having sideshows, rides etc.

(2) Any merrymaking, revelry, or festival, as a program of sports or entertainment.

(3) In the Christian ecclesiastical calendar, the season immediately preceding Lent, often observed with merrymaking; Shrovetide.

(4) A festive occasion or period marked by merrymaking, processions etc and historically much associated with Roman Catholic countries in the period just before Lent.

(5) A sports meeting.

(6) In literary theory (as the noun carnivalization & verb carnivalize), to subvert (orthodox assumptions or literary styles) through humour and chaos.

(7) In sociology, a context in which transgression or inversion of the social order is given temporary license (an extension of the use in literary theory).

(8) Figuratively, a gaudily chaotic situation.

(9) As a modifier (often as “carnival atmosphere?”) a festive atmosphere.

1540–1550: From the Middle French carnaval, from the Italian carnevale, from the Old Italian carnelevare (taking meat away), from older Italian forms such as the Milanese carnelevale or Old Pisan carnelevare (to remove meat (literally “raising flesh”)) the construct built from the Latin caro (flesh (originally “a piece of flesh”)) from the primitive Indo-European root sker- (to cut) + levare (lighten, raise, remove), from the primitive Indo-European root legwh- (not heavy, having little weight).  Etymologists are divided on the original source of the term used by the Church, the alternatives being (1) carnem levare (to put away flesh), (2) carnem levāmen (meat dismissal), (3) carnuālia (meat-based country feast) and (4) carrus nāvālis (boat wagon; float).  What all agree upon is the ecclesiastical use would have come from one of the forms related to “meat” and the folk etymology favors the Medieval Latin carne vale (flesh, farewell!).  Spreading from the use in Christian feast days, by at least the 1590s it was used in the sense of “feasting or revelry in general” while the meaning “a circus or amusement fair” appears to be a 1920s adoption in US English.  The synonyms can include festival, celebration, festivity, fiesta, jubilee, gala, fete, fête, fest, fair, funfair, exhibit, exhibition, revelry, merriment, rejoicing, jamboree, merrymaking, mardi gras, jollity, revel, jollification, exposition and show.  Which is chosen will be dependent on region, context, history etc and (other than in ecclesiastical use) rules mostly don’t exist but there seem to be a convention that a “sporting carnival” is a less formal event (ie non-championship or lower level competitions).  The alternative spelling carnaval is obsolete.  Carnival & carnivalization are nouns, carnivalize, carnivalizing & carnivalized are verbs, and carnivalic, carnivalistic, carnivalesque, carnivallike, precarnival & noncarnival are adjectives; the noun plural is carnivals.

Not just meat: Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) on fasting for Lent.

Originally, a carnival was a feast observed by Christians before the Lenten fast began and wasn’t a prelude to a sort of proto-veganism.  It was a part of one of religion’s many dietary rules, one which required Christians to abstain from meat during Lent (particularly on Fridays and during certain fast days), carnival the last occasion on which meat was permissible before Easter.  The Christian practice of abstaining from meat evolved as part of a broader theology of penance, self-denial, and imitation of Christ’s suffering, the rationale combining biblical precedent, symbolic associations and early ascetic traditions, the core of the concept Christ’s 40 days of fasting in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1–11, Luke 4:1–13).  Theologically, the argument was that for one’s eternal soul to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, a price to be paid was Imitatio Christi (earthly participation in Christ’s suffering).  Much the early church valued suffering (for the congregants if not the clergy and nobility) and the notion remains an essential theme in some Christian traditions which can be summed up in the helpful advice: “For everything you do, there’s a price to be paid.”

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) in 2016 on his private jet, fasting for Lent.

By voluntarily abstaining from certain foods, Christians imitated Christ’s self-denial and prepared spiritually for Easter: sharing in His suffering to grow in holiness.  Meat was seen a symbol of feasting and indulgence, an inheritance from Antiquity when “flesh of the beasts of the field” was associated with celebration rather than everyday subsistence, the latter something sustained typically by seafood, fruits and grains so voluntarily (albeit at the behest of the Church) choosing temporarily to renounce meat symbolized forgoing luxury and bodily pleasure, cultivating humility and penitence.  As well as the theological, there was also a quasi-medical aspect to what Tertullian (Quintus Septimius Florens Tertullianus, circa 155–circa 220) commended as “forsaking worldly indulgence” in that fasting took one’s thoughts away from earthly delights, allowing a focus on “prayer and spiritual discipline”, strengthening the soul against “sinful temptations”.  Another layer was added by the Patristics (from the Latin pater (father)), a school of thought which explored the writings and teachings of the early Church Fathers.  Although it was never a universal view in Patrology, there were those who saw in the eating of meat a connection to animal sacrifice and blood, forbidden in the Old Testament’s dietary laws and later spiritualized in Christianity, thus the idea of abstinence as a distancing from violence and sensuality.  Finally, there was the special significance of Fridays, which, as "Good Friday" reflected the remembrance of the crucifixion of Christ and his death at Calvary (Golgotha); the early Christians treated every Friday as a mini-fast and later this would be institutionalized as Lent.

Lindsay Lohan arriving at the Electric Daisy Carnival (left) and detail of the accessory worn on her right thigh (right), Memorial Coliseum, Los Angeles, June 2010.  The knee-high boots were not only stylish but also served to conceal the court-mandated SCRAM (Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor) bracelet.

The allowance of fish during Lent had both pragmatic and theological origins, its place in the Christian diet a brew of symbolism, biblical precedent and cultural context.  As a legal and linguistic point, in the Greco-Roman scheme of things fish was not thought “flesh meat” which was understood as coming from warm-blooded land animals and birds.  Fish, cold-blooded and aquatic, obviously were different and belonged to a separate category, one which Christianity inherited and an implication of the distinction was seafood being viewed as “everyday food” rather than an indulgent luxury.  This was a thing also of economics (and thus social class), the eating of fish much associated with the poorer coastal dwellers whereas meat was more often seen on urban tables.  Notably, there was also in this a technological imperative: in the pre-refrigeration age, in hot climates, often it wasn’t possible safely to transport seafood inland.  The Biblical symbolism included Christ feeding the multitudes with a few “loaves and fishes” (Matthew 14:13–21), several of the apostles were fishermen who Christ called upon to be “fishers of men” (Mark 1:16–18) and the ichthys (fish symbol) was adopted as early Christian emblem for Christ Himself.  Collectively, this made fish an acceptably modest food for a penitential season.  All that might have been thought justification enough but, typically, Medieval scholars couldn’t resist a bit of gloss and the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) decided abstinence aimed to “curb the concupiscence of the flesh” and, because meat generated more “bodily heat” and pleasure than fish, it was forbidden while fish was not.  That wasn’t wholly speculative and reflected the humoral theory from Antiquity, still an orthodoxy during the Middle Ages: fish seen as lighter, cooler, and less sensual.

Notting Hill Carnival, London.

Traditionally, there was also a Lenten prohibition of dairy products and eggs, each proscription with its own historical and symbolic logic and the basis of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day) and Easter eggs (though not the definitely un-Christian Easter bunny).  The strictness derived partly from Jewish precedents notably the vegetarian edict in Daniel 10:2–3 and the idea of a “return to Edenic simplicity” where man would eat only plants (Genesis 1:29) but also an aversion to links with sexuality and fertility, eggs obviously connected with sexual reproduction and dairy with lactation.  What this meant was early Christian asceticism sought to curb bodily impulses and anything connected with fleshly generation and (even if indirectly), thoughts of sex.

Historically, a time of absolution when confessions were made in preparation for Lent, Shrovetide described the three days immediately preceding Lent (Shrove Sunday, Shrove Monday & Shrove Tuesday, preceding Ash Wednesday).  The construct being shrove +‎ -tide, the word was from the late Middle English shroftyde.  Shrove was the simple past of shrive, from the Middle English shryven, shriven & schrifen, from the Old English sċrīfan (to decree, pass judgement, prescribe; (of a priest) to prescribe penance or absolution), from the Proto-West Germanic skrīban, from the late Proto-Germanic skrībaną, a borrowing from the Latin scrībō (write).  The word may be compared with the West Frisian skriuwe (to write), the Low German schrieven (to write), the Dutch schrijven (to write), the German schreiben (to write), the Danish skrive (to write), the Swedish skriva (to write) and the Icelandic skrifa (to write).  The –tide suffix was from the Middle English –tide & -tyde, from the Old English -tīd (in compounds), from tīd (point or portion of time, due time, period, season; feast-day, canonical hour).  Before refrigeration, eggs and dairy naturally accumulated during springtime as hens resumed laying and animals produced more milk.  Being banned during Lent, stocks thus had to be consumed lest they be wasted so a pragmatic way to ensure economy of use was the pancake (made with butter, milk & eggs), served on the feast of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day).  Following Easter, when eggs returned to the acceptable list, “Easter eggs” were a natural festive marker of the fast’s end.

Carnival Adventure and Carnival Encounter off Australia’s eastern Queensland coast.

Although dubbed “floating Petri dishes” because of the high number of food poisoning & norovirus cases, cruise ships remain popular, largely because, on the basis of cost-breakdown, they offer value-for-money packages few land-based operators can match.  The infections are so numerous because (1) there are thousands of passengers & crew in a closed, crowded environment, (2) an extensive use of buffets and high-volume food service, (3) a frequent turnover of crew & passengers, (4) port visits to places with inconsistent sanitation, health & food safety standards and (5) sometimes delayed reporting and patient isolation.

However, although the popular conception of Medieval Western Christendom is of a dictatorial, priest-ridden culture, the Church was a political structure and it needed to be cognizant of practicalities and public opinion.  Even dictatorships can maintain their authority only with public consent (or at least acquiescence) and in many places the Church recognized burdensome rules could be counter-productive, onerous dietary restrictions resented especially by the majority engaged for their living in hard, manual labor.  Dispensations (formal exceptions) became common with bishops routinely relaxing the rules for the ill, those pregnant or nursing or workers performing physically demanding tasks.  As is a common pattern when rules selectively are eased, a more permissive environment was by the late Middle Ages fairly generalized (other than for those who chose to live by to monastic standards).

Carnival goers enjoying the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras: This is not what Medieval bishops would have associated with the word “carnival” but few events better capture the spirit of the phrase “carnival atmosphere”.

The growth of dispensations (especially in the form of “indulgences” which were a trigger for the Protestant Reformation) was such it occurred to the bishops they’d created a commodity and commodities can be sold.  This happened throughout Europe but, in France and Germany, the “system” became institutionalized, the faithful even able to pay “butter money” for the privilege of eating the stuff over Lent (a kind of inverted “fat tax”!) with the proceeds devoted to that favourite capital works programme of bishops & cardinals: big buildings.  The sixteenth century tower on Normandy’s Rouen Cathedral was nicknamed “Butter Tower” although the funds collected from the “tax” covered only part of the cost; apparently even the French didn’t eat enough butter.  As things turned out, rising prosperity and the population drifts towards towns and cities meant consumption of meat and other animal products increased, making restrictions harder to enforce and the Protestant reformers anyway rejected mandatory fasting rules, damning them as man-made (“Popery!” the most offensive way they could think to express that idea) rather than divine law.  Seeing the writing nailed to the door, one of the results of the Council of Trent (1545–1563) was that while the Church reaffirmed fasting, eggs and dairy mostly were allowed and the ban on meat was restricted to Fridays and certain fast days in the ecclesiastical calendar.

Archbishop Daniel Mannix in his library at Raheen, the Roman Catholic's Church's Episcopal Palace in Melbourne, 1917-1981.

By the twentieth century, it was clear the Holy See was fighting a losing battle and in February 1966, Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) promulgated Apostolic Constitution Paenitemini (best translated as “to be penitent”) making abstinence from meat on Fridays optional outside Lent and retained only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday as obligatory fast days for Catholics.  It was a retreat very much in the corrosive spirit of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965) and an indication the Church was descending to a kind of “mix & match” operation, people able to choose the bits they liked, discarding or ignoring anything tiresome or too onerous.  In truth, plenty of priests had been known on Fridays to sprinkle a few drops of holy water on their steak and declare “In the name of our Lord, you are now fish”.  That was fine for priests but for the faithful, dispensation was often the “luck of clerical draw”.  At a time in the late 1940s when there was a shortage of good quality fish in south-east Australia, Sir Norman Gilroy (1896–1977; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Sydney 1940-1971, appointed cardinal 1946) granted dispensation but the stern Dr Daniel Mannix (1864–1963; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Melbourne 1917-1963) refused so when two politicians from New South Wales (Ben Chifley (1885–1951; prime minister of Australia 1945-1949) and Fred Daly (1912–1995)) arrived in the parliamentary dining room for dinner, Chifley’s order was: “steaks for me and Daly, fish for the Mannix men.”

In the broad, a carnival was an occasion, event or season of revels, merrymaking, feasting and entertainments (the Spanish fiestas a classic example) although they could assume a political dimension, some carnivals staged to be symbolic of the disruption and subversion of authority.  The idea was a “turning upside down of the established hierarchical order” and names used included “the Feast of Fools”, “the Abbot of Misrule” and “the Boy Bishop”.  With a nod to this tradition, in literary theory, the concept of “carnivalization” was introduced by the Russian philosopher & literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975), the word appearing first in the chapter From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse (written in 1940) which appeared in his book The Dialogic Imagination: chronotope and heteroglossia (1975).  What carnivalization described was the penetration or incorporation of carnival into everyday life and its “shaping” effect on language and literature.

The Socratic dialogues (most associated with the writing of the Greek philosophers Xenophon (circa 430–355 BC) and Plato (circa 427-348 BC)) are regarded as early examples of a kind of carnivalization in that what appeared to be orthodox “logic” was “stood on its head” and shown to be illogical although Menippean satire (named after the third-century-BC Greek Cynic Menippus) is in the extent of its irreverence closer to the modern understanding which finds expression in personal satire, burlesque and parody.  Bakhtin’s theory suggested the element of carnival in literature is subversive in that it seeks to disrupts authority and introduce alternatives: a deliberate affront to the canonical thoughts of Renaissance culture.  In modern literary use the usual term is “carnivalesque”, referring to that which seeks to subvert (“liberate” sometimes the preferred word) assumptions or orthodoxies by the use of humor or some chaotic element.  This can be on a grand scale (ie an entire cultural movement) or as localized some malcontent disrupting their book club (usually polite affairs where novels are read and ladies sit around talking about their feelings).

Portrait of Leo Tolstoy (1887), oil on canvas by Ilya Repin (1844-1930), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

He expanded on the theme in his book Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics (1929) by contrasting the novels of Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) and Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881).  Tolstoy’s fiction he classified as a type of “monologic” in which all is subject to the author's controlling purpose and hand, whereas for Dostoevsky the text is “dialogic” or “polyphonic” with an array of different characters expressing a variety of independent views (not “controlled” the author) in order to represent the author's viewpoint.  Thus deconstructed, Bakhtin defined these views as “not only objects of the author's word, but subjects of their own directly significant word as well” and thus vested with their own dynamic, being a liberating influence which, as it were, “conceptualizes” reality, lending freedom to the individual character and subverting the type of “monologic” discourse characteristic of many nineteenth century authors (typified by Tolstoy).

Portrait of Fedor Dostoyevsky (1872), oil on canvas by Vasily Perov (1834-1882), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

Dostoevsky’s story Bobok (1873) is cited as an exemplar of carnival.  It has characters with unusual freedom to speak because, being dead, they’re wholly disencumbered of natural laws, able to say what they wish and speak truth for fun.  However, Bakhtin did acknowledge this still is literature and didn’t claim a text could be an abstraction uncontrolled by the author (although such things certainly could be emulated): Dostoevsky (his hero) remained in control of his material because the author is the directing agent.  So, given subversion, literary and otherwise, clearly has a history dating back doubtlessly as many millennia as required to find an orthodoxy to subvert, why was the concept of carnivalization deemed a necessary addition to literary theory?  It went to the form of things, carnivalization able especially to subvert because it tended to be presented in ways less obviously threatening than might be typical of polemics or actual violence.