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 the 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)) one Friday 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.

Saturnalia

Saturnalia (pronounced sat-er-ney-lee-uh or sat-er-neyl-yuh)

(1) The festival of Saturn (in Ancient Rome a holiday to mark the winter solstice, honoring the deity Saturn), celebrated in December as a time of unrestrained merrymaking (with initial capital and used sometimes with a plural verb).

(2) Uninhibited revelry; orgy (usually without initial capital).

(3) Merrymaking.

(4) In paleontology, a taxonomic genus (Saturnalia tupiniquim) within the order Saurischia (a dinosaur of the Triassic).

1585–1595: From the Latin Sāturnālia, neuter plural of the adjective Sāturnālis (pertaining to Saturn (corresponding to the Ancient Greek Kronia)), from Saturnus, the construct being Sāturn + -ālia, neuter plural of -ālis- (the third-declension two-termination suffix (neuter -āle) used to form adjectives of relationship from nouns or numerals).  Regarding the dinosaur, etymologists interpret the word as the Latin equivalent of the Portuguese carnaval (Carnival (the period before Lent)); so called because the genus was discovered in Brazil during Carnival.  The anagram of Saturnalia (a festival much associated with the taking of strong drink) is Australian; sometimes in language, things work out well.  Saturnalia is a noun, saturnian is a noun & adjective and saturnalian is an adjective; the noun plural is plural saturnalias.  In modern practice it's common for the forms to appear uncapitalized.

The Roman festival of the winter solstice was originally celebrated for three days beginning on 17 December but was later extended to seven days.  It was a popular winter event because the revelry, drinking and the taking of mirthful license was extended to all classes, even slaves (of which the Romans had many).  In the West the word remained the preserve of classists and historians until 1782 when an extended sense of "a period of wild or noisy revelry" began to be used, the adjectival Saturnalian (soon without the initial capital) noted in 1801.  The Latin proverb nōn semper Sāturnālia erunt (literally “it will not always be the Saturnalia”) translates as “not every day can be a holiday”, one of life’s more melancholy lessons.

Les Romains de la décadence (1847) (The Romans in their Decadence) by Thomas Couture (1515-1879), Musée d'Orsay, Paris.

The painting of Les Romains de la décadence absorbed three years of Thomas Couture’s life and during the process he told fellow artists that in it was a work in the tradition of the masters of ancient Greece, the Renaissance and the Flemish school.  He wanted to give fresh impetus to French painting and thought a historical work documenting human behavior during high antiquity was the way to convey his moral message.  In the catalogue printed when he exhibited the finished piece at the 1847 Paris Salon, Couture quoted a fragment of two lines by the Roman poet Juvenal, (circa 55-circa 140) in the catalogue for the 1847 Salon where the painting was exhibited: "Crueller than war, vice fell upon Rome and avenged the conquered world". 

The imagery is heavy-handed but effective, ancient statures from an austere and pure past casting condemnatory eyes upon the debauched and decadent below.  Couture, a Jacobin, republican and anti-cleric, created the work as a critique of what would now be called the “political class”, his target the moral decadence which beset the country under the July monarchy, the elite of which had been discredited or disgraced by successive scandals.  As a political statement it was a realist allegory but it was influential too in its style.  A work on a huge scale and reminiscent of Raphael (1483–1520), so much of the French “classic” school of the second half of the century owed some debt to Les Romains de la décadence.  Within a year of the salon, the revolution of 1848 had toppled the July monarchy and prints with the faces of politicians imposed would circulate in France during the troubled 1930s dubbed Le français de la décadence (The French of the Decadence).

In a slightly santized form, Les Romains de la décadence was in 1846 etched by Edmond Hédouin (1820-1889).  It now hangs in the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

As a festival, Saturnalia faded from memory in the early medieval period because of the decline and fall of Rome and the standardization on the Christian calendar of the Christmas holiday which borrowed some of Saturnalia’s traditions and should thus be thought an absorption of the pagan event rather than its replacement, the slight change in dates not climatically significant.  Unusually in the stratified society of Rome, Saturnalia was an egalitarian event in that some of the rituals involved a reversal of social norms, an allusion to those days when Saturn ruled over the Earth as a bucolic paradise.  Under Roman law, during the first three days of Saturnalia, all schools, businesses and courts were required to close to ensure all could share in the fun.

The Saturn cocktail (1967)

Ingredients

1½ oz Gin
½ oz fresh lemon juice
¼ oz passion fruit purée
½ oz orgeat syrup
¼ oz velvet falernum

Instructions

(1) Blend all ingredients with 1 cup of crushed ice until smooth.

(2) Pour contents into a rocks glass with 4 oz of fresh crushed ice.

(3) Garnish with a lime twist wrapped around a cherry.

The start of Saturnalia was marked by priests in the temples of Saturn unwrapping from the feet of the statues of the god the woolen garments with which they were usually attired, the intended symbolism an act of liberation signifying the strictures which usually governed life were, for a few days, relaxed.  Graphically emblematic of that was that during Saturnalia, all Romans whether senators, citizens, freedmen or slaves were free to wear a pilleus, the felt cap otherwise restricted to freedmen.  Slaves too enjoyed a little more latitude in life, technically free to disobey and disrespect their masters without fear of punishment although the work of historians did make the point this was a right exercised usually with some caution and thought for the future.  The best remembered (or at least the most frequently cited) ritual of Saturnalia was the feast where masters served their slaves or even had them sit at the same table but there’s little to indicate if this was a widespread practice, some sources suggesting it was more likely that something like “staff Christmas parties” were arranged, the wine and food provided by the master or employer.

Lindsay Lohan provides a rationale for saturnalia (quoted in 2006, during her saturnalian period).  This is available as desktop wallpaper (3840 x 2160) for those needing frequently to be reminded.   

Beyond that, the rituals of Saturnalia were recognizably those of Christmas or other pagan festivals of the winter solstice, featuring festive masks, poetry readings & performances, games of chance (gambling became lawful during Saturnalia).  Most notably, there was the exchange of gifts between family, friends and loved ones, traditionally on the last day of the holiday which eventually settled on 23 December.   Many modern gift traditions can be traced back to Saturnalia, including the annual bonus employees would sometime enjoy and there were “gag gifts” too, worthless trinkets or items truly ghastly, senators and even the odd emperor recorded as having some fondness for giving these.

Masquerade

Masquerade (pronounced mas-kuh-reyd)

(1) A party, dance, or other festive gathering of persons wearing masks and other disguises, and often elegant, historical, or fantastic costumes.

(2) A costume or disguise worn at such a gathering.

(3) A false outward show; façade; pretense.

(4) An activity, existence etc, under false pretenses.

(5) To go about under false pretenses or a false character; assume the character of; give oneself out to be; a pretentious display.

(6) To disguise oneself.

(7) To take part in a masquerade.

(8) Figuratively, an assembly of varied, often fanciful things.

(9) A dramatic performance by actors in masks; a mask or masque (obsolete).

(10) A Spanish entertainment or military exercise in which squadrons of horses charge at each other, the riders fighting with bucklers and canes (always rare, now obsolete).

(11) In military jargon, to conceal (artillery pieces etc) from the view of the enemy.

1560s: The noun "assembly of persons wearing masks and usually other disguises" was from the Middle French mascarade, masquerade & masquerade (the modern French is mascarade (masquerade, masque; farce)), or the Spanish mascarada (masked party or dance) (sometimes as masquerada & mascarado), from the Italian mascarata (a ball at which masks are worn), a variant of the etymon Upper Italian mascherata (masquerade) from maschera (source of mask), from the Medieval Latin masca (mask).  The English word was cognate with Late Latin masquarata, the Portuguese mascarada and the Spanish mascarada.    Some sources insist the supposedly Spanish derivatives of the French were actually “pseudo-Spanish” but in Spanish mascara was anyway “a mask”.  The spelling maskerade has been obsolete since the late 1600s although the synonym masque endured beyond another two centuries.  The verb was derived from the noun and the extended sense of a "disguise in general; concealment or apparent change of identity by any means" dates from the 1660s; the figurative sense of "false outward show" emerging during the next decade.

The related verb forms (used without object) were masqueraded & masquerading and masquerader was a noun, the adjective masqueradish and the adverb masqueradingly both rare; the plural was masquerades (also attributively).  Words vaguely similar, if not actual synonyms, include carnival, circus, cloak, color, costume, cover, cover-up, deception, dissimulation, domino, facade, festivity, front, guise, impersonation, imposture, mask, mummery, personation & pose.

Curiously, although the word appears not to have entered English for another half-century, the masquerade (masked ball, festive entertainment in which participants wear a disguising costume) was known in French since the 1510s.  It developed to mean an "amateur theatrical performance" in the 1560s, such entertainments popular (and performed originally in masks) with the Elizabethan nobility.  The military sense to describe a type of camouflage used to conceal field pieces such as cannons dates from 1706 and, in the army way of things, was quickly shortened to “mask”.

Masked Ball at the Opera (1873) by Edouard Manet (1832–1883).

Much associated with the tradition of the Venetian Carnival, masquerade balls (maschera in the Italian) moved from the ballroom to become costumed public festivities in Italy during the sixteenth century Renaissance although they never lost the perception of the link with the upper classes.  As they spread to France and England, they also took with them their fashionable status and, expensive & exclusive, they soon became one of the most preferred gatherings for the urban elite of Paris and London which constituted a genuinely new economic and social structure but, although symbolizing extravagance, whether there was ever the extent of sexual frivolity, debauchery, and gender subversion that was suspected then and has often been the depiction in latter-day popular culture, is at least uncertain.

The perception of there being something wrong surfaced early, clergy and the other usual suspects assuming the anonymity and sexual mixing of the masquerade must obscure the gender restraints they thought proper.  The satirical artists of the time lent weight to the vicars’ vexations, prints of masquerade balls showing women often scantily clad and leaning towards men with immodest intention: gender roles not just fluid but actually reversed, women asserting sexual power.  Henry Fielding’s (1707–1754) first published poem, The Masquerade (1724), highlighted the subversive power of the masks.

here, in one confusion herl'd,

seem all the nations of the world,

Cardinals, quakers, judges dance;

Grim Turks are coy, and nuns advance,

Grave churchmen here at hazard play;

So for his ugliness more fell,

Was H-d-g-r toss'd out of hell,

And in return by Satan made

First Minister of masquerade.

Lindsay Lohan in masquerade mask.

Reading Fielding, that middle-class moralist, it seemed that when masked in the company of masked men, women tainted their innocence and some feared that were women to taste sexual freedom, who knew where that might lead.  The masquerade, like many things which broke barriers of class, gender, and ethnicity by at least appearing to challenge social norms, induced one of the moral panics at which the English excel.  The clergy would preach from their pulpits of the "evils of the masquerade" and if that didn’t get through to the congregation, pamphleteers passed out their papers on the streets, warning of corruption and depravity.  Perhaps conflicted, because their presses printed advertisements and tickets for the very masquerades they claimed to oppose, newspaper editors wrote scathing editorials and the civil authorities responded with a predictably selective suppression, The Weekly Journal of 10 April 1775 describing with some relish the forcible breaking-up of a masquerade described as a gathering of "Chamber-Maids, Cook-Maids, Foot-Men, and Apprentices".  It seems the idea of a massed gathering of the working class in masks was a threatening thing; there’s no record of the events hosted by the gentry being disturbed.

Masqueraders (circa 1880 by Raimundo de Madrazo y Garreta (1841-1920).

The concerns however persisted and the masquerade was just one example of what was seen as an epidemic of unwholesome foreign influences which had of late landed upon English shores.  Returning to his theme, in a submission to An Enquiry into the Causes of the Late Increase of Robbers, Henry Fielding wrote that, "bad Habits are infectious by Example, as the Plague itself by Contact" and the masquerade being foreign meant it was suspect, like much of the diabolical and unwelcome cultural epidemic spread from Italy, France and the Orient.  In a 1724 sermon, the Bishop of London blamed the presence of the masquerade on English soil on a certain "ambassador of a neighboring nation” and went on to preach that the masquerade was a plot devised by France to "enslave true Englishmen by encouraging in them licentious and effeminacy" and journalists pursued the idea of continental corruption, noting the masquerade began in "hot countries notorious for Lewdness”.  There was even a conspiracy theory, one writer suggesting this “foreign diversion" was a European plot to neutralize the beauty of English women by forcing them to "hide their charms with a mask".

The fear of women enjoying sexual licence was the problem.  Those in the anti-masquerade movement equated attending the masquerade with the sexual act itself, just another expression of the double standards in eighteenth-century English culture, the presence of women at masquerades thought something heinous, while that of men, though hardly condoned, was more or less tolerated.  Some female critics were more pragmatic.  Writing in The Female Spectator Eliza Haywood (circa 1693–1756) advised her female readers that "women of honour" not only should not attend the masquerade but "shun the gentlemen who were so depraved as to offer them tickets".  On the other hand, she advised her male readers not against going to the masquerade themselves but against bringing their wives or sisters, lest their mistress might also be in attendance.  Undeniably sound advice.

Nineteenth century drawing, Lisbon earthquake, 1755.

It was an act of God which drove a stake through the heart of the English masquerade.  On November 1, 1755 an earthquake destroyed much of the city of Lisbon, killing thousands.  As news spread, the anti-masquerade movement spoke out publicly, claiming the earthquake was visited upon the Portuguese for their sin and corruption, the very thing that had spread to England.  Whether those in government took this analysis too seriously isn’t known but they certainly reacted to the public outcry the mob’s rantings summoned and masquerades were banned for a year.  Although there were spasmodic attempts at revivals, the popularity suffered and it was by the late eighteenth century extinct in England, not to return for more than a hundred years.

Burlesque

Burlesque (pronounced ber-lesk)

(1) An artistic composition, especially literary or dramatic, that, for the sake of laughter, vulgarizes lofty material or treats ordinary material with mock dignity.

(2) A humorous and provocative (often bawdy) stage show featuring slapstick humor, comic skits and a scantily clad female chorus; by the late nineteenth century striptease was often the main element (the usual slang was burleycue).

(3) As neo-burlesque, a late twentieth century revival (with rather more artistic gloss) of the strip-tease shows of the 1920s.

(4) An artistic work (especially literary or dramatic), satirizing a subject by caricaturing it.

(5) Between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, a play parodying some contemporary dramatic fashion or event.

(6) A production of some kind involving ludicrous or mocking treatment of a solemn subject; an absurdist imitation or caricature.

(7) Of, relating to, or characteristic of a burlesque; of, relating to, or like stage-show burlesque.

(8) To represent or imitate (a person or thing) in a ludicrous way; caricature.

(9) To make ridiculous by mocking representation.

(10) To in some way use a certain type of caricature.

1650–1660: From the French burlesque, from the Italian burlesco (ludicrous and used in the sense of “parodic”), the construct being burl(a) (joke, fun, mockery) + -esco (the adjectival suffix used in English as –esque).  The Italian burla may ultimately be from the Late Latin burra (trifle, nonsense (and literally “flock of wool”) and thus used to suggest something “fluffy” (in the sense of being “lightweight” rather than serious) which was of unknown origin.  Alternatively, some etymologists suggest burla may be from the Spanish burladero (the protective barrier behind which people in the bullring are protected from the bull).  The verb burlesque (make ridiculous by mocking representation) came directly from the noun and was in use by the 1670s.  The spelling burlesk is archaic.  While the derived form unburlesqued means simply “not burlesqued”, preburlesque is a historian's term meaning “prior to the introduction of burlesque performances”.  Burlesque, burlesquer & burlesqueness are nouns, burlesqued & burlesquing are verbs and burlesquely is an adverb; the noun plural is burlesques.

The original mid-sixteenth century meaning was related to stage performances and meant “a piece composed in the burlesque style, a derisive imitation or grotesque parody, a specific development from the slightly earlier adjectival sense of “odd or grotesque”, taken directly from the French burlesque.  The more familiar adjectival meaning (tending to excite laughter by ludicrous contrast between the subject and the manner of treating it) was in use by at least the late 1690s.  As a definition that’s fine but in the hands of playwrights, satirists and such there was obviously much scope, prompting one journalist (a breed which seems first to have been described thus in the 1680s) in 1711 to clarify things in a London periodical:

“The two great branches of ridicule in writing are comedy and burlesque. The first ridicules persons by drawing them in their proper characters; the other, by drawing them quite unlike themselves. Burlesque is therefore of two kinds; the first represents mean persons in accoutrements of heroes, the other describes great persons acting and speaking like the basest among the people.”

The meaning shifted as what appeared on stage evolved and by the 1880s the typical understanding was something like (1) “travesties on the classics and satires on accepted ideas” and (2) comic opera which tended towards vulgarity.  From this came the still prevalent modern sense of “variety show featuring music, dancing and striptease” although some historians of the industry link this use directly from the mid-nineteenth century tradition of “scantily-clad performers who staged the sketches concluding minstrel shows”.  The implications of that evolution didn’t impress all and by the early twentieth century, in the US, the word “burlesque” had become verbal shorthand for “entertainment designed to titillate, verging on the obscene while avoiding prosecution”.  The term “neo-burlesque” (a revived form of traditional American burlesque performance, involving dance, striptease, dramatic performance etc) emerged in the 1990s, describing the stage shows which sought to re-capture the once respectable spirit of burlesque as it was performed in US clubs before “changing attitudes” saw the performances outlawed or marginalized.  Whether attitudes really much changed among the general population has been debated by historians but the US political system then (as now) operated in a way in which well-funded groups could exert a disproportionate influence on public policy and while this often was used by sectional interests to gain financial advantage, some also decided to impose on others their view of morality; it was in the era of the crackdown on burlesque shows the Motion Picture Production Code (the so-called “Hays Code” which, remarkably, endured, at least on paper, until 1968!) was created as a set of “moral guidelines” with which the Hollywood studios had to conform.  So the “culture wars” are nothing new and in the US, there has always been a tension between puritan religiosity and political freedom, the two forces reflecting the concerns and obsessions of those from the “Old World” of Europe who in the early seventeenth century founded the settlement which ultimate became what came to be known as “America”.

Although often hardly “respectable” theatre, burlesque has a long tradition in performance and almost its techniques will long pre-date recorded history.  The essence of the form was based on an exaggerated “sending up” or a derisive imitation of a literary or musical work and can be anything from a friendly joke to vicious ridicule.  Historically most associated with some form of stage entertainment, burlesque was distinguished from parody in being usually stronger (though not always broader) in tone and style and often lacked the edgy subtlety of satire.   It was the Athenian playwright of Ancient Greece, Aristophanes (circa 446–386 BC), who the late Medieval scribes declared “the father of comedy” and while that was a little misleading, he would occasionally use the device of burlesque in his plays though the satyr plays probably were the first institutionalized form of burlesque.

Empire Burlesque (1985) by Bob Dylan (b 1941).

Early in his long career, Bob Dylan must have noticed the press seemed to be more interested in discussing the stuff about which he didn’t comment that that which he’d taken the time to explain.  Whether or not that’s a factor, Dylan appears never to have explained the meaning behind the title of his 1985 album, Empire Burlesque.  Although some speculated it may have been a metaphor for the nature of “the American Empire” (however defined), there’s nothing substantive to support the speculation and a more grounded theory came from the Beat poet Allen Ginsberg (1926–1997) who recounted how Dylan had once told him: “That was the name of a burlesque club I used to go to when I first came to New York, down on Delancey Street.”  Ginsberg thought it “a good title” for an album.

Intriguingly, the satyr play was a kind of coda.  In Greek theatre, the convention was to present four plays in succession: three tragedies (though not necessarily a trilogy) with a satyr play appended as the final piece.  Typically, in a satyr play, a mythical hero (who may have appeared in one or all of the foregoing tragedies) was presented as a ridiculous personage with a chorus of satyrs (creatures half man and half goat (or half horse) with prominent, erect phalluses (it was satyr imagery which in Europe made the goat a symbol of lust and, two millennia on, cynical Berliners would refer to the notoriously philandering Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) as “the he-goat of Berlin”)).  As far as is known, the satyr plays almost always were ribald in speech and action as well as in costume and their purpose has been debated by historians.  While classical Greek tragedy is almost wholly devoid of comedy (in the sense of set-pieces although there’s the occasional sardonic quip or grim observation that would have enticed a laconic guffaw) the satyr play concluding the tetralogy would have worked as a sort of palliative burlesque after the catharsis of three acts of fear, loathing and, not infrequently, death,  Their dramatic function clearly was a form of comic relief but coming immediately after three works of earnest high-seriousness, they must have has the effect of “calming the senses” of the audience after the intense, exalting spiritual experience of the tragedies.  That’s interesting in that it implies it was thought desirable to return the audience to “earthly life” and remind them what they had just experienced was not “reality” and their emotions had just been manipulated by a technique.  It all sounds rather post-modern and in a similar literary vein, the “clowning interludes” in Elizabethan plays can also be seen as a type of burlesque; in William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) A Midsummer Night's Dream (1590) the interpolation of the play of Pyramus and Thisbe performed by Bottom and his companions was the bard making fun of the “Interludes” of earlier types.

An expanded vista derailing the Pronomos Vase (red-figure pottery Ancient Greece, circa 400 BC) believed to depict the whole cast and chorus of a satyr play, along with the playwright, the musician Pronomos, and the gods Dionysos and Ariadne.  The scene is thought to capture the figures after a performance which, in modern use, would be thought a “behind the scenes” grab.   The vase was discovered in 1835 in a tomb in Ruvo di Puglia, Italy; it’s now on permanent display in the Museo Nazionale in Naples.

To make things difficult for students, there are linguistic traps in the terminology and despite the similarity in the spelling, there was no connection whatever between satyric drama and satire and some seem convinced there may have been none between it and Greek comedy.  For structuralists, it can be a difficult field to study because over the centuries so many contradictory texts and commentaries emerged and that’s at least partly attributable to the influence of Aristotle (384-322 BC) who looms over the understanding of Greek theatre because his writings came to be so revered by the scholars of the late Medieval period and especially the Renaissance.  As far as in known, the Greeks were the first of the tragedians and it’s through the surviving texts of Aristotle that later understandings were filtered but all of his conclusions were based only on the tragedies and such was his historic and intellectual authority that for centuries his theories came to be misapplied and misused, either by mapping them on to all forms of tragedy or using them as exclusionary, dismissing from the canon those works which couldn’t be made to fit his descriptions.

The Pronomos Vase as displayed in Naples.

Nor was burlesque confined to drama; it was the most common structure used in the mock-heroic poem to ridicule the often overblown works of romance, chivalry and Puritanism.  Dripping often with irony and a confected grave decorum, the classic example is English poet & satirist Alexander Pope’s (1688-1744) The Rape of the Lock (1712), cited by some (however unconvincingly) as the spiritual origin of “high camp”.  Also, because the gothic novel often was written in such self-conscious “high style”, the form lent itself naturally to burlesque re-tellings, something exploited to this day in Hollywood which has often made sequels to horror films in comedic from.  The burlesque (in the sense it was a descendent of the Greek satyr play) could also be positioned as something transgressive although it must be wondered if this sometimes was a product more of the commentator’s view than the positionality intended by the author.  This aspect of burlesque is explored in the genre of literary carnival when a technique is borrowed from the Socratic dialogues (in which what appears to be logic is deconstructed and proved to be illogical).  Carnivalesque elements are inherent in burlesque (and can exist in satire, farce, parody and such) and a theory of Russian philosopher & literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975) was that in its disruption of authority and implication of possible alternatives, carnival in literature was subversive and the use of burlesque in the form was a concealment (in the sense of avoiding the censor’s pen) of what could be a liberating influence; Bakhtin’s particular target was the “suffocatingly sacred word” in Renaissance culture but his theory has more generally been applied.

The noun amphigory (burlesque nonsense writing or verse) dates from 1809 and was from the eighteenth century French amphigouri of unknown origin but presumed by most etymologists to have been a jocular coining although there may have been some influence from the New Latin amphi-, from the Ancient Greek ἀμφί (amphí) (on both sides) and the Greek γύρος (gýros), derived from the “turning of the meat on a spit” (as a calque of Turkish döner into Greek).  The notion was of “making the whole” (ie “circle on both sides”) but a link with the Greek -agoria (speech) (as in allegory, category) has been suggested as a simpler explanation.  The word “amphigory” found a niche in literary criticism and academic use (recommended for students wishing to impress the professor) to describe a particular flavour of burlesque or parody, especially a verse or other text in which the impression is for a while sustained of something which will make sense but ultimately fails, an oft-cited example being Nephelidia (literally “cloudlets”) by the English poet Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909) in which the writer parodies his own distinctive style.

In A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), Henry Fowler (1858–1933) noted the wide application of the words often listed as synonymous with burlesque (caricature, parody, travesty etc), citing the not uncommon use of burlesque to describe a “badly conducted trial” or “a perverted institution”, adding the two critical distinctions were (1) burlesque, caricature & parody have, besides their wider uses, each a special province; action or acting is burlesqued, form and features are caricatured and verbal expression is parodied and (2) travesty differs from the others both in having no special providence and, in being more used than they (though all four may be used either way) when the imitation is intended to be or pass for an exact one but fails.  Were Henry Fowler alive to see TikTok and such, he’d realize not many are reading his book.

Pink Purple HD Lip Paint (Burlesque) by MBACosmetics.  Burlesque's ingredients includes: Castor Oil, Jojoba Oil, Beeswax, Carnauba Wax, Fractionated Coconut Oil, Shea Butter, Vitamin E, Mica, Titanium Dioxide, Oxides, May contain Yellow #5 Lake, Yellow #6 Lake, Red #7 Lake, Red #40, Red #33, Red #27, Red #30, Orange #5, Hydrogenated Polisobutene and Palmitic Acid.

The difficulty in assigning synonyms to “burlesque” is that things are not only nuanced but historically variable; what would in one time and place have been thought satirical might in other circumstances be called a parody.  The earliest known use in English of the noun parody was by the playwright Benjamin Jonson (circa 1572-circa 1637) who would have understood it as something close to the modern definition: “a literary work in which the form and expression of dignified writing are closely imitated but are made ridiculous by the ludicrously inappropriate subject or methods; a travesty that follows closely the form and expression of the original”.  Parody was from the Latin parodia (parody), from the Ancient Greek parōidia (burlesque song or poem), the construct being para- (beside, parallel to (used in this context in the sense “to mock; mockingly to present”)) + ōidē (song, ode) and from the technical use in theatre came the general meaning “a poor or feeble imitation”, in use by at least the late 1820s.  So, depending on the details, a parody could be a type of burlesque but might also be described as a satire, ridicule, lampoon or farce.  It was Benjamin Jonson who in 1609 debuted his “anti-masque” an innovation which took the form of either (1) a buffoonish and grotesque episode before the main masque or (2) a similarly farcical interlude interpolated during the performance (if performed beforehand, it was dubbed an “ante-masque”. One variant of the anti-masque was a burlesque of the masque itself and in that sense there was a distinct affinity with the Greek satyr play.

So in literary use, synonyms for burlesque must be applied on a case-by-case basis, caricature, parody and travesty all used variously to refer to the written or preformed forms imitating serious works or subjects, the purpose being to achieve a humorous or satiric purpose.  In this context, burlesque achieves its effects through a mockery of both high and low through association with their opposites: burlesques of high and low life can thus be though a kind of specific application of irony.  Caricature, usually associated with visual arts or with visual effects in literary works, implies exaggeration of characteristic details, analogous with the technique of the political cartoonist.  Parody achieves humor through application of the manner or technique (typically well-known poets, authors, artists and such), often to an unaccustomed (and, ideally, wholly incongruous) subject while a travesty can be a grotesque form of burlesque, the latter also nuanced because travesties can be intentional or just bad products.  All of these forms can be the work of absurdists, that genre ranging from the subtle to the blatant and they may also be spoofs.  Spoof was a neologism coined in 1884 by the English comedian Arthur Roberts (1852–1933) as the name of a card game which involved deception, trickery and nonsense.  From this the word came to be used of any sort of hoaxing game but it became most popular when used of literary works and staged performances which is some way parodied someone or something but the point about the use of “spoof” is should describe a “gentle” rather than a “biting” satire, elements of the burlesque thus often present in spoofs.

South Park's take on Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025).  Somewhere in probably every South Park episode, there are switches between parody, satire, ridicule, lampoon and farce with elements of the burlesque often in each.

A distinction certainly is drawn between political burlesque and political satire.  Political burlesque is a particular application of the satirical which relies on parody and exaggeration (often absurdist) to mock political figures, events, concepts or institutions and the purpose can range from the merely comic to the subversive, the two poles not being mutually exclusive.  In the burlesque, a politician’s traits, patterns of speech or behaviour (scandals are best) are explored and sometimes exaggerated to the point they become obviously ridiculous or absurd, the best practitioners of the art using the amplification to take things to a logical (if improbable) conclusion and while it can be done almost affectionately, the usual purpose is to draw attention to flaws such as incompetence, corruption, indifference to others, hypocrisy or ideological fanaticism.  Essentially a political cartoon writ large, it’s a popular device because in masking the message in humor, there’s usually some protection from a defamation writ, witness the relationship between the animation South Park and Donald Trump.  The tradition is old and evidence is at least hinted in graffiti unearthed in Ancient Rome but material from in recent centuries is extant and techniques of the English artists William Hogarth (1697–1764) and James Gillray (1756-1815) remain in use to this day, illustrating the way political burlesque is best understood as a sub-set of political satire, separate but (often) equal as it were, the differences in tone, method, and degree of exaggeration a matter of tactics rather than strategy.

As an umbrella term, “political satire” has a wide vista in that it can be subtle, dry, ironic & biting, deployed with wit & understatement but it can also switch to (some would say “descend to”) the burlesque in becoming loud, exaggerated and even grotesque in fusing elements of slapstick and farce.  While burlesque amplifies absurdity, venality or whatever is being critiqued, satire need only “point it out” and some very effective satires have done nothing more than quote politicians verbatim, their words “hoisting them with their own petard” if the mixed metaphor will be forgiven.  So, all political burlesque is political satire, but not all political satire is burlesque.  The companion term in politics is vaudevillian and that describes a politician for whom “all the world’s a stage” and politics thus a form of theatre.  Their performances can (sometimes unintentionally) sometimes seem to at least verge on the burlesque but usually it’s about attracting attention and a classic exponent was Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) who was said to have been influenced by Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989).  During the 1980 presidential campaign, a reporter asked Mr Reagan: “How can an actor run for President?”, receiving the prompt reply: “How can a president not be an actor?”  Some have of course been more adapt than others at “flicking the switch to vaudeville” and Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996) whose vocabulary was rich (if not always refined) used to use what he called his “dead cat strategy” which referred to introducing a shocking or controversial issue to divert unwanted attention from other, more embarrassing or damaging news.  It was most graphically expressed as “tossing a dead cat on the table”.

Lindsay Lohan in burlesque mode in I Know Who Killed Me (2007).  Neglected upon its release, IKWKM has since been re-evaluated as a modern giallo and has acquired a cult following, sometimes see on the playbill of late-night screenings.

As popular entertainment, burlesque performance enjoyed a revival which began in the 1990s and in the twenty-first century it’s now an entrenched niche as well a minor industry in publishing.  By the 1960s, what was called burlesque had become rather tatty and the common understanding of the term was something not greatly different from a strip club with a slightly better class of drunk in the audience, the women there to disrobe in the hope of encouraging the sale of expensive alcoholic.  What in the 1990s was dubbed the “neo-burlesque” was not a reprise of how things used to be done but a construct which might be thought a more “women-centric” interpretation of the discipline and while there will be factions of feminism which won’t take that notion too seriously and dismiss as “false consciousness” the idea of women publicly taking off their clothes as a form of “empowerment”, the latter day performers seem to treat it as exactly that.  Despite the criticism of some, burlesque seem now to verge on the respectable and, internationally, there are various burlesque festivals and a Burlesque Hall of Fame (the grand opening, perhaps predictably, in Las Vegas).

Burlesque and the Art of the Teese /Fetish and the Art of the Teese (2006) by Dita Von Teese (stage name of Heather Renée Sweet, b 1972).  Perhaps surprisingly, despite the phrase “the art of the teese” being at least potentially a piece of “ambush marketing” piggy-backing on the success of the acclaimed (48 weeks on The New York Times Best Seller list) book The Art of the Deal by Donald Trump and Tony Schwartz (b 1952), Mr Trump didn’t sue Ms von Teese.  Maybe he’s a burlesque fan-boy.

In the modern era, no figure is more associated with the neo-burlesque than Dita von Teese and her janus-configured book Burlesque and the Art of the Teese / Fetish and the Art of the Teese is similar to Mr Trump’s magnum opus in being a hybrid: part memoir, part instruction manual.  This significance of publishing the burlesque and fetish components as separate sections was presumably to make the point that while there’s obvious cross-fertilization between the two disciplines and for some the former may be a stepping stone to the latter, there is a clear distinction, one a piece of performance art, the other a deliberate statement of deviance; decisively one must step from one into the separate world of the other.  Ms von Teese’s book documents the “dos & don’ts” of each “calling” and. as she explains, the point about the neo-burlesque was it was less a revival than a re-defining, the thematic emphasis on style and glamour rather than sleaze, more aligned with the image (if not exactly the reality) of the Berlin cabarets of the 1920 than the seedy Soho strip joints which once so tarnished the brand.