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.

Catharsis

Catharsis (pronounced kuh-thahr-sis)

(1) The purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music.

(2) In psychiatry, a form of psychoanalysis or psychotherapy that encourages or permits the discharge of repressed, pent-up, socially unacceptable affects.

(3) The discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition.

(4) In Aristotelian literary criticism, the purging or purification of the emotions through the evocation of pity and fear, as in tragedy.

(5) In medicine, purgation, especially of the bowels.

1770: From the New Latin catharsis, from the Ancient Greek kátharsis (a cleansing) equivalent to kathar, variant stem of kathaírein (to cleanse, purge, purify), from katharós (pure, clear of dirt, clean, spotless, open, free, clear of shame or guilt, purified) + sis.    Root was the Medieval Latin Catharī (the Pure), from the Byzantine Greek καθαροί or katharoí (the Pure), plural of καθαρός (katharós) (pure).  It was probably Aristotle (384-322 BC) who was most influential in having catharsis assume its common, modern meaning: “the purging or purification of the emotions through the evocation of pity and fear, as in tragedy”.  It was in chapter VI of his Περὶ ποιητικῆς (Peri poietikês) (Poetics) he used the word in his definition of “tragedy” and although scholars have for centuries (inconclusively) debated exactly what he meant, the critical sentence was: “Tragedy through pity and fear effects a purgation of such emotions.”  The orthodoxy has long been his idea was: the tragedy having aroused in the viewer powerful feelings, it has also a therapeutic effect for after the storm and climax comes calm, a sense of release from tension, of calm (stuff purged from mind and soul).  Aristotle's Poetics remains the earliest work of Greek dramatic theory known to have survived and the first extant philosophical treatise solely to focus on literary theory, many of the definitional terms (author, poet, comedy, tragedy etc) still used today in his original sense.  In a way, he may even have been the one to have established the notion of literary theory as an idea or discipline so the work was seminal and he can’t be blamed for postmodernism.

Most of the extended senses found in Modern English are of unknown origin, the original sense from 1770 being "a bodily purging" (especially of the bowels), then an important aspect of medical practice.  After 1872 it came to be applied to emotions when it was referred to as "a purging through vicarious experience"; the psychotherapy sense first recorded in 1909 in Abraham Brill's (1874–1948) translation of Sigmund Freud's (1856–1939) Selected Papers on Hysteria  (Dr Brill’s translation the first of Freud into English).  The alternative spelling cathartick went extinct in the mid-nineteenth century while the adjective cathartic dates from its use in medical literature in the 1610s in the sense of preparations claimed to be "purgative; purifying"; more general use noted by the 1670s.  Presumably, the cures proved efficacious because the adjective cathartical soon emerged, existing also in the plural as the noun catharticals (laxatives; purging made literal).  Cathartine was a hypothetical substance once imagined to cause the bitterness and purgativeness of the dried leaves or pods of senna plants (sennapod tea remains a popular mild laxative).  Catharsis is a noun, cathart is a verb, cathartanticatharticic & anticathartic are nouns & adjectives; the noun plural is catharses.  The specialized uses in medicine include anticathartic (preventing a purging), anacathartic (inducing vomiting), emetocathartic (that is emetic (inducing nausea & vomiting) and cathartic) and hemocathartic (that serves to cleanse the blood).

The term “Catherine wheel” was originally from the early thirteenth century and described a torture device, the spiked wheel on which (according to some versions of what is thought to be a most dubious tale) the legendary virgin Saint Catherine of Alexandria was in 307 tortured and martyred by the pagan Marcus Aurelius Valerius Maxentius (circa 283–312; a Roman emperor, 306-312), thus becoming, in the associative way the Church did these things, patron saint of spinners.  She was a most popular saint in medieval times and popularized the name Catherine (and its variations), the favor enduring to this day.  It was applied from 1760 to a kind of firework which shot flame from a revolving spiral tube, creating the shape of a spinning wheel.

The modern catharsis is a public event, best enjoyed after emerging from rehab:  Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) and Oprah Winfrey (b 1954), 2013. 

Cathar (religious puritan (implied in Catharism)), dates from the 1570s and was from the Medieval Latin Cathari (the Pure), the name taken by the Novatians and other Christian sects, from the New Testament Greek katharizein (to make clean), from the Ancient Greek katharós (pure).  It was applied particularly to the twelfth century sects (Albigenses etc) in Languedoc and the Piedmont which denied and defied the authority of the pope.  The feminine proper name Catherine is from the French Catherine, from the Medieval Latin Katerina, from the Classical Latin Ecaterina, from the Ancient Greek Aikaterine.  The -h- was introduced in the sixteenth century, probably a tribute in folk etymology from the Greek katharos (pure).  Familiar in Modern English also as Katherine, Kate, Cate and other variations, the initial Greek vowel preserved in the Russian form Ekaterina.  For reasons unknown, Catherine began to be used as a type of pear in the 1640s. 

Of the Cathars: Catharism

With origins in Persia and the Byzantine Empire, Catharism was a dualist (or Gnostic revival) fork of Christianity, the movement most active during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries in what is now northern Italy and southern France.  It was not a good time to be promoting the notion of two Gods, one good, the other evil; this dualism was however the essential core of Cathar beliefs.  The good God was the God of the New Testament and the creator of the spiritual realm, contrasted with the evil Old Testament God, creator of the physical world and this being many Cathars (and not a few of their persecutors) identified as Satan.  It was an exacting creed in which all visible matter (including the human body), was created by the evil god and therefore tainted with sin.  Taint might be an understatement; Cathars thought human spirits were the lost spirits of angels trapped within the physical creation of the evil god, destined to be reincarnated until they achieved salvation through what they called the consolamentum, a highly ritualized form of baptism.

The Holy See's foreign policy when the pope did have a few divisions: The papal army, the Cathars & the Albigensian Crusade.

All this was heresy to the monotheistic Roman Catholic Church, founded on the fundamental principle of one God, the creator of all things temporal and spiritual.  The Church’s crackdown got serious during the pontificate of Innocent III (circa 1160-1216; pope 1198-1216), initially by means of political and theological persuasion but with the assassination of his emissary, Innocent abandoned diplomacy, declared his dead ambassador a martyr and launched a military operation, the twenty-year (1209-1229) Albigensian Crusadel; it was the beginning of the end of Catharism and after 1244 when the great fortress of Montsegur (near the Pyrenees) was razed, the Cathars became an underground movement, many fleeing to Italy where the persecution was milder.  The hierarchy faded but the heresy lingered until it finally it vanished early in the fifteenth century.

Simone Weil.

Simone Weil (1909-1943) was a French philosopher and political activist who, in a manner unusual among left-leaning intellectuals of the era, returned to the religion ignored in her youth and became attracted to the mystical.  Remembered for her political writings and active service in both the Spanish Civil War and occupied France, she died tragically young in the self-sacrificial manner she had lived her life.  Among the more delicate historians, (typified by Arnold Toynbee (1889-1975)), there’s often an undisguised preference for Greek over Roman but few went as far as Weil who could find no virtue in the latter and was barely less dismissive of the medieval Church.  By contrast, in the Cathars, she found exemplars of goodness although she offered few reasons and fewer still shreds of evidence for this.  Most convincing is the notion that what Weil called malheur (affliction) went beyond merely describing suffering and made of it, if not a fetish, then certainly a calling.  Weil felt there were only some able truly to experience affliction: those least deserving of suffering.  Seduced by the lure of the tragic and having trawled history, she found in the Cathars the doomed victims with whom she could identify, drawn to them as Sylvia Plath (1932-1963) was to Ted Hughes (1930–1998; Poet Laureate 1984-1998).

Simone Weil agitprop.

Although her readership remains substantially limited to those clustered around a number of academic and feminist circles, Weil’s influence on literature has been profound.  She wrote neither fiction nor poetry but in her prolific output, existing mostly in letters and notebooks (in her lifetime almost wholly unseen and edited for publication only posthumously), lay an extraordinary exploration of the contradictions and confusion of the modern world.  One gains much from reading Weil for despite her tone there’s pleasure in enjoying the lucidity and discovering an uncompromising critique of a world poisoned by the exclusivity of Christianity and its damnation of progress as heresy.  But guilt tinges the pleasure.  This tortured soul lived and died in anguish and dark despair because she knew she deserved no more in a world of where injustice had triumphed and probably forever would.  One fears that in all her brief years, she may never have felt a moment’s joy.

Mural

Mural (pronounced myoor-uhl)

(1) A large picture painted or affixed directly on a wall or ceiling.

(2) A greatly enlarged photograph attached directly to a wall.

(3) A wallpaper pattern representing a landscape or the like, often with very widely spaced repeats so as to produce the effect of a mural painting on a wall of average size; sometimes created as a trompe l'oeil (“deceives the eye”).

(4) Of, relating to, or resembling a wall.

(5) Executed on or affixed to a wall.

(6) In early astronomy, pertaining to any of several astronomical instruments that were affixed to a wall aligned on the plane of a meridian; formerly used to measure the altitude of celestial bodies.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English mural, from the Latin mūrālis (of or pertaining to a wall), the construct being mūr(us) (wall) + ālis (the Latin suffix added to a noun or numeral to form an adjective of relationship; alternative forms were āris, ēlis, īlis & ūlis).  The Latin mūrālis was from the Old Latin moiros & moerus, from the primitive Indo-European root mei (to fix; to build fences or fortifications) from which Old English picked-up mære (boundary, border, landmark) and Old Norse gained mæri (boundary, border-land).  In the historic record, the most familiar Latin form was probably munire (to fortify, protect).  The sense of "a painting on a wall" seems to have emerged as late as 1915 as a clipping of "mural-painting" (a painting executed upon the wall of a building), a term in use since at least 1850 and derived from mural in its adjectival form.

The adjective intermural (between walls) dates from the 1650s, from the Latin intermuralis (situated between walls), the construct being from inter- (between) + muralis (pertaining to a wall) from mūrus (wall).  The adjective intramural (within the walls (of a city, building etc)) dates from 1846, the construct being intra- (within) + muralis (pertaining to a wall) from mūrus (wall); it was equivalent to Late Latin intramuranus and in English, was used originally in reference to burials of the dead.  It came first to be used in relation to university matters by Columbia in 1871.  Mural is a noun, verb & adjective; muraled is a verb & adjective, muralist & muralism are nouns and muraling is a verb; the noun plural is murals.  The adjectives murallike, muralish & muralesque are non-standard and the adverb murally is unrelated, murally a term from heraldry meaning “with a mural crown” and used mostly in the technical terms “murally crowned” & “murally gorged”.  A mural crown was a crown or headpiece representing city walls or towers and was used as a military decoration in Ancient Rome and later as a symbol in European heraldry; its most common representation was as a shape recalling the alternating merlons (raised structures extending the wall) atop a castle’s turret which provided defensive positions through which archers could fire.  The style remains familiar in some of the turrets which sometimes on the more extravagant McMansions and in the chess piece properly called the rook but also referred to as a castle.

Lindsay Lohan murals in the style of street art (graffiti): In hijab (al-amira) with kebab roll by an unknown street artist, Melbourne, Australia (left), the photograph the artist took as a template (centre) and in a green theme in Welcome to Venice mural by UK-born Californian street artist Jules Muck (b 1978) (right).  While a resident of Venice Beach, Ms Lohan lived next door to former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

In multi-cultural Australia, the kebab roll has become a fixture in the fast-food scene with variations extending from vegan to pure meat, the term “kebab” something of a generic term meaning what the vendor decides it means.  Cross-culturally the kebab roll also fills a niche as the standard 3 am snack enjoyed by those leaving night clubs, a place and time at which appetites are heightened.  After midnight, many kebab rolls are sold by street vendors from mobile carts and those in the Middle East will not be surprised to learn barbaric Australians sometimes add pineapple to their roll.  The photograph of Ms Lohan in hijab was taken during a “doorstop” (an informal press conference) after her visit in October 2016 to Gaziantep (known to locals as Antep), a city in the Republic of Türkiye’s south-eastern Anatolia Region.  The purpose of the visit was to meet with Syrian refugees being housed in Gaziantep’s Nizip district and the floral hijab was a gift from one of the residents who presumably assisted with the placement because there’s an art to a well-worn al-amira.  Ms Muck’s work was a gesture to welcome Ms Lohan moving from Hollywood to Venice Beach and the use of green is a theme in many of her works.  Unfortunately, Ms Lohan’s time in Venice Beach was brief because she was compelled to return to New York City after being stalked by the Freemasons.

Mural montage: Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) osculating with Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999), Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; Israeli prime minister 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022), Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022), Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) and “Lyin’ Ted” Cruz (b 1970; US senator (Republican-Texas) since 2013).

Probably not long after the charcoal and ochre of the first cave paintings was seen by someone other than the artist, there emerged the calling of “art critic” and while the most common fork of that well-populated profession focuses on the aesthetic, art has also long been political.  The mural of course has much scope to be controversial because they tend to be (1) big and (2) installed in public spaces, both aspects making the things highly visible.  Unlike a conventionally sized painting which, even if large, a curator can hang in some obscure spot or put into storage, the mural is just where it is and often part of the built environment; there it will be seen.  In art history, few murals have more intriguing tales than Michelangelo’s (Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni; 1475–1564) ceiling and frescos (1508-1512) in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel but although there were at the time of the commissioning and completion few theological or political squabbles, there were the Vatican’s usual personal and institutional tensions, cardinals and bishops with their own agendas (some financial) peeking and poking into why Julius II (1443–1513; pope 1503-1513) had handed the juicy contract to someone thought primarily a sculptor rather than a painter.

Sistine Chapel, The Vatican, Rome.

The political stoush came later.  At the time, the nudity had been noted and while some voices were raised in opposition, there was no attempt to censor the work because during the High Renaissance, depictions of nudity (on canvas, in marble etc) were all around including in the Vatican but decades later, during the sittings of the Council of Trent (1545–1563), critiques of “nakedness” in art became more vocal.  That was especially the case after the Counter-Reformation (circa 1550–circa 1670) produced a more severe Church, a development with many repercussions, one of which was the “fig-leaf campaign” in which an artist was commissioned to paint over (especially male) genitalia, the traditional “fig leaf” the preferred device.  Perhaps curiously, despite the early appearance of the motif in the art of Christendom, for centuries the fig leaf wasn’t “obligatory” although they appear often enough that at times they must have been at least “desirable” and in other periods and places clearly “essential”.  The later infamous “Fig Leaf Campaign” was initiated by Pope Paul IV (1476–1559; pope 1555-1559) and continued by his successors although it was most associated with the ruling against “lasciviousness” in religious art made in 1563 by the Council of Trent.  It was something very much in the spirit of the Counter-Reformation and it was Pius IV (1499–1565; pope 1559-1565) who commissioned artist Daniele da Volterra (circa 1509–1566) to paint over the genitalia Michelangelo had depicted on his ceiling, extending his repertoire from strategically positioned leaves to artfully placed draperies or loincloths; Romans to his dying day nicknamed Volterra “Il Braghettone” (the breeches maker).  As late as the nineteenth century Greco-Roman statues from antiquity were still having their genitals covered with fig leaves (sometimes detachable, a trick the British Museum later adopted to protect Victoria’s (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) delicate sensibilities during her infrequent visits).  Another example of practical criticism was the edict by Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878) that extant male genitalia on some of the classical statues adorning the Vatican should be “modified” and that involved stonemasons, sculptors and other artisans receiving commissions to “modify or cover” as required, some fig leaves at the time added.  It is however a myth popes sometimes would be seen atop a ladder, chisel in hand, hammering away for not only did they hire "the trades" to do their dirty work, what was done was almost always concealment rather than vandalism.

Then a work in progress, this is one of the few known photographs of Diego Rivera's mural in New York City's Rockefeller Center.  According to the Workers Age of 15 June, 1933, the image was "...taken surreptitiously by one of Rivera's aides..."  

Still, no pope ever ordered Michelangelo’s creation painted over but not all artists were so fortunate.  On 9 May 1933 (by coincidence a day when the Nazis publicly were burning books), New York’s very rich Rockefeller family ordered Mexican artist Diego Rivera (1886-1957) to cease work on his mural depicting "human intelligence in control of the forces of nature", then being painted in the great hall of the 70-storey Rockefeller Center in New York City.  Taking photographs of the mural was also prohibited.  What incurred the family’s wrath was the artist's addition of a depiction of Bolshevik revolutionary comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924) against a background of crowds of unemployed workers.  Comrade Lenin had not appeared in the conceptual sketch (entitled Man at the Crossroads Looking with Hope and High Vision to the Choosing of a New and Better Future) the artist had provided prior to the commission being granted.  Nelson Rockefeller (1908–1979; US vice president 1974-1977 and who earned immortality by having "died on the job") genuinely was a modern art fan-boy and attempted to negotiate a compromise but it was the nadir of the Great Depression, marked by plummeting industrial production, bank failures and an unemployment rate approaching 25%; other family members, knowing there was in the air talk of revolution (the Rockefeller family had much to lose), didn’t want unemployed getting ideas.  To them, Lenin was close to being the devil incarnate and "the devil makes work for idle hands".  The mural was covered by a canvas drape until February 1934 when, under cover of darkness, it was broken up and carted off to be dumped, the family dutifully having paid the artist his US$21,000 fee.