Enthrone

Enthrone (pronounced en-throhn)

(1) To put on the throne in a formal installation ceremony (sometimes called an enthronement) which variously could be synonymous with (or simultaneously performed with) a coronation or other ceremonies of investiture.

(2) Figuratively in this context, to help a candidate to the succession of a monarchy or by extension in any other major organisation (ie the role of “kingmakers”, literal and otherwise).

(3) To invest with sovereign or episcopal authority (ie a legal instrument separate from any ceremony).

(4) To honour or exalt (now rare except in literary or poetic use).

(5) Figuratively, to assign authority to or vest authority in.

Circa 1600: The construct was en- + throne and the original meaning was “to place on a throne, exalt to the seat of royalty”.  For this purpose it replaced the late fourteenth century enthronize, from the thirteenth century Old French introniser, from the Late Latin inthronizare, from Greek the enthronizein.  In the late fourteenth century the verb throne (directly from the noun) was used in the same sense.  Throne (the chair or seat occupied by a sovereign, bishop or other exalted personage on ceremonial occasions) dates from the late twelfth century and was from the Middle English trone, from the Old French trone, from the Latin thronus, from the Ancient Greek θρόνος (thrónos) (chair, high-set seat, throne).  It replaced the earlier Middle English seld (seat, throne).  In facetious use, as early as the 1920s, throne could mean “a toilet” (used usually in the phrase “on the throne”) and in theology had the special use (in the plural and capitalized) describing the third (a member of an order of angels ranked above dominions and below cherubim) of the nine orders into which the angels traditionally were divided in medieval angelology.  The en- prefix was from the Middle English en- (en-, in-), from the Old French en- (also an-), from the Latin in- (in, into).  It was also an alteration of in-, from the Middle English in-, from the Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in (in).  Both the Latin & Germanic forms were from the primitive Indo-European en (in, into).  The intensive use of the Old French en- & an- was due to confluence with Frankish intensive prefix an- which was related to the Old English intensive prefix -on.  It formed a transitive verb whose meaning is to make the attached adjective (1) in, into, (2) on, onto or (3) covered.  It was used also to denote “caused” or as an intensifier.  The prefix em- was (and still is) used before certain consonants, notably the labials b and p.  Enthrone, dethrone, enthronest & enthronize are verbs, enthronementm, enthronization & enthroner are nouns, enthroning is a noun & verb, enthroned is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is enthronements.  The noun enthronable is non-standard.  The derived forms include the verb unenthrone, reenthrone & disenthrone and although there have been many enthroners, the form enthronee has never existed.

Alhaji Ibrahim Wogorie (b 1967) being enskinned as North Sisala community chief, Ghana, July 2023.

In colonial-era West Africa the coined forms were “enskin” (thus enskinment, enskinning, enskinned) and “enstool” (thus enstoolment, enstooling, enstooled).  These words were used to refer to the ceremonies in which a tribal chief was installed in his role; the meanings thus essentially the same as enjoyed in the West by “enthrone”.  The constructs reflected a mix of indigenous political culture and English morphological adaptation during the colonial period, the elements explained by (1) the animal skins (the distinctive cheetah often mentioned in the reports of contemporary anthropologists although in some Islamic and Sahelian-influenced chieftaincies (including the Dagomba, Mamprusi, Hausa emirates), a cow or lion skin often was the symbol of authority) which often surrounded the new chief and (2) the tradition in Africa of a chief sitting on a stool.  Sometimes, the unfortunate animal’s skin would be laid over the stool (and almost always, one seems to have been laid at the chief’s feet) but in some traditions (notably in northern Ghana and parts of Nigeria) it was a mark of honor for the chief to sit on a skin spread on the ground.

Dr Mahamudu Bawumia (b 1963), enstooled as Nana Ntentankesehene (Chief of the Internet/Web), Ghana, August 2024.  Note the cheetah skin used to trim the chair.

The stool was the central symbol of chieftaincy and kingship among Akan-speaking peoples (still in present-day Ghana where “to enskin” is used generally to mean “to install as a leader of a group” and the constitution (1992) explicitly protects the institution of chieftaincy and judicial decisions routinely use “enstool” or “enskin” (depending on region)).  In Akan political culture, the most famous use was the Sika Dwa Kofi (the Golden Stool) of the Asante and it represented the embodiment of the polity and ancestors, not merely a seat (used rather like the synecdoches “the Pentagon” (for the US Department of Defense (which appears now to be headed by a cabinet office who simultaneously is both Secretary of Defense & Secretary of War)) or “Downing Street” (for the UK prime-minister or the government generally).  Thus, to be “enstooled” is ritually to be placed into office as chief, inheriting the authority vested in the stool.  Enskin & enstool (both of which seem first to have appeared in the records of the Colonial Office in the 1880s and thus were products of the consolidation of British indirect rule in West Africa, rather than being survivals from earlier missionary English which also coined its own terms) were examples of semantic calquing (the English vocabulary reshaped to encode indigenous concepts) and, as it was under the Raj in India, it was practical administrative pragmatism, colonial officials needing precise (and standardized) terms that distinguished between different systems of authority.  In truth, they were also often part of classic colonial “fixes” in which the British would take existing ceremonies and add layers of ritual to afforce the idea of a chief as “their ruler” and within a couple of generations, sometimes the local population would talk of the newly elaborate ceremony as something dating back centuries; the “fix” was a form of constructed double-legitimization.

A classic colonial fix was the Bose Levu Vakaturaga (Great Council of Chiefs) in Fiji which the British administrators created in 1878.  While it's true that prior to European contact, there had been meetings between turaga (tribal chiefs) to settle disputes and for other purposes, all the evidence suggests they were ad-hoc appointments with little of the formality, pomp and circumstance the British introduced.  Still, it was a successful institution which the chiefs embraced, apparently with some enthusiasm because the cloaks and other accoutrements they adopted for the occasion became increasingly elaborate and it was a generally harmonious form of indigenous governance which enabled the British to conduct matters of administration and policy-making almost exclusively through the chiefs.  The council survived even after Fiji gained independence from Britain in 1970 until it was in 2012 abolished by the military government of Commodore Frank Bainimarama (b 1954; prime minister of Fiji 2007-2022), as part of reform programme said to be an attempt to reduce ethnic divisions and promote a unified national identity.  The commodore's political future would be more assured had he learned lessons from the Raj.

There was of course an element of racial hierarchy in all this and “enskin” & “enstool” denoted a “tribal chief” under British rule whereas “enthrone” might have been thought to imply some form of sovereignty because that was the linkage in Europe and that would never do.  What the colonial authorities wanted was to maintain the idea of “the stool” as a corporate symbol, the office the repository of the authority, not the individual.  The danger with using a term like “enthronement” was the population might be infected by the European notion of monarchy as a hereditary kingship with personal sovereignty; what the Europeans wanted was “a stool” and they would decide who would be enstooled, destooled or restooled. 

Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi, Moses Mabhida Stadium, Durban, South Africa, October 2022.

English words and their connotations did continue to matter in the post-colonial world because although the colonizers might have departed, often the legacy of language remained, sometimes as an “official” language of government and administration.  In the 1990s, the office of South Africa’s Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi (1928–2023) sent a series of letters to the world’s media outlets advising he should be styled as “Prince” and not “Chief”, on the basis of being the grandson of one Zulu king and the nephew of another.  The Zulus were once described as a “tribe” and while that reflected the use in ethnography, the appeal in the West was really that it represented a rung on the racist hierarchy of civilization, the preferred model being: white people have nations or states, Africans cluster in tribes or clans.  The colonial administrators recognized these groups had leaders and typically they used the style “chief” (from the Middle English cheef & chef, from the Old French chef & chief (leader), from the Vulgar Latin capus, from the Classical Latin caput (head), from the Proto-Italic kaput, from the primitive Indo-European káput).  As the colonial records make clear, there were “good” chiefs and “troublesome” chiefs, thus the need sometimes to arrange a replacement enstooling.

Unlike in the West where styles of address and orders of precedence were codified (indeed, somewhat fetishized), the traditions in Africa seem to have been more fluid and Mangosuthu Buthelezi didn’t rely on statute or even documented convention when requesting the change.  Instead, he explained “prince” reflected his Zulu royal lineage not only was appropriate (he may have cast an envious eye at the many Nigerian princes) but was also commonly used as his style by South African media, some organs or government and certainly his own Zulu-based political party (IQembu leNkatha yeNkululeko (the IPF; Inkatha Freedom Party).  He had in 1953 assumed the Inkosi (chieftainship) of the Buthelezi clan, something officially recognized four year laters by Pretoria although not until the early 1980s (when it was thought he might be useful as a wedge to drive into the ANC (African National Congress) does the Apartheid-era government seem to have started referring to him as “prince”).  Despite that cynical semi-concession, there was never a formal re-designation.

Enthroned & installed: Lindsay Lohan in acrylic & rhinestone tiara during “prom queen scene” in Mean Girls (2004).

In the matter of prom queens and such, it’s correct to say there has been “an enthronement” because even in the absence of a physical throne (in the sense of “a chair”), the accession is marked by the announcement and the placing of the crown or tiara.  This differs from something like the “enthroning” of a king or queen in the UK because, constitutionally, there is no interregnum, the new assuming the title as the old took their last breath and “enthronement” is a term reserved casually to apply to the coronation.  Since the early twentieth century, the palace and government have contrived to make an elaborate “made for television” ceremony although it has constitutional significance beyond the rituals related to the sovereign’s role as Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

Dame Sarah Mullally in the regalia of Bishop of London; in January 2026, she will take office as Archbishop of Canterbury, the formal installation in March.  No longer one of the world's more desirable jobs (essentially because it can't be done), all wish her the best of British luck.

In October 2025, the matter of enthronement (or, more correctly, non-enthronement) in the Church of England made a brief splash in some of the less explored corners of social media after it was announced the ceremony marking the accession of the next Archbishop of Canterbury would be conducted in Canterbury Cathedral in March 2026.  The announcement was unexceptional in that it was expected and for centuries Archbishops of Canterbury have come and gone (although the last one was declared gone rather sooner than expected) but what attracted some comment was the new appointee was to be “installed” rather than the once traditional “enthroned”.  The conclusion some drew was this apparent relegation was related to the next archbishop being Dame Sarah Mullally (née Bowser; b 1962) the first woman to hold the once desirable job, the previous 105 prelates having been men, the first, Saint Augustine of Canterbury (circa 630s-circa 604) in 597 (not to be confused with the still influential Saint Augustine of Hippo (354–430)).

Despite the suspicions the event was being in some way "devalued" because a woman got the job, there is in the church no substantive legal or theological significance in the use of “installed” rather than “enthroned” and the choice reflects modern ecclesiastical practice rather than having any doctrinal or canonical effect.  A person become Archbishop of Canterbury through a sequence of juridical acts and these constitute the decisive legal instruments; ceremonial rites have a symbolic value but nothing more, the power of the office vested from the point at which the legal mechanisms have correctly been executed (in that, things align with the procedures used for the nation’s monarchs).  So the difference is one of tone rather than substance and the “modern” church has for decades sought to distance itself from perceptions it may harbor quasi-regal aspirations or the perpetuation of clerical grandeur and separateness; at least from Lambeth Palace, the preferred model long has been pastoral; most Church of England bishops have for some times been “installed” in their cathedrals (despite “enthronement” surviving in some press reports, a product likely either of nostalgia or “cut & paste journalism”).  That said, some Anglican provinces outside England still “enthrone” (apparently on the basis “it’s always been done that way” rather than the making of a theological or secular point”).

Lambeth Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury's official London residence.

Interestingly, Archbishops of York (“the church in the north”) continued to enjoy ceremonies of enthronement even after those those at Canterbury underwent installations.  Under canon law, the wording literally makes no difference and historians have concluded the retention of the older form is clung to for no reason other than “product differentiation”, York Minster often emphasizing their continuity with medieval ceremonial forms; it’s thus a mere cultural artefact, the two ceremonies performing the same liturgical action: seating the archbishop in the cathedra (the chair (throne) of the archbishop.  Because it’s the Archbishop of Canterbury and not York who sits as the “spiritual head of the worldwide Anglican community”, in York there’s probably no lingering sensitivity to criticism of continuing with “Romish ways”.  It's not that northern noses are less troubled by the “whiff of popery”, it just that few now care.

In an indication of how little the wording matters, it’s not clear who was the last Archbishop of Canterbury who could be said to have been “enthroned” because there was never any differentiation of form in the ceremonies and the documents suggest the terms were used casually and even interchangeably.  What can be said is that Geoffrey Fisher (1887–1972; AoC-99: 1945-1961) was installed at a ceremony widely described (in the official programme, ecclesiastical commentaries and other church & secular publications) as an “enthronement” and that was the term used in the government Gazette; that’s as official an endorsement of the term as seems possible because, being an established church, bishops are appointed by the Crown on the advice of the prime minister although the procedure has at least since 2007 been a “legal fiction” because the church’s CNC (Crown Nominations Commission) sends the names to the prime minister who acts as a “postbox”, forwarding them to the palace for the issuing of letters patent confirming the appointment.  When Michael Ramsey (1904–1988; AoC-100: 1961-1974), was appointed, although the term “enthrone” did appear in press reports, the church’s documents almost wholly seem to have used “install” and since then, in Canterbury, it’s been installations all the way.

Pope Pius XII in triple tiara at his coronation, The Vatican, March, 1939.

So, by the early 1960s the church was responding, if cautiously, to the growing anti-monarchical sentiment in post-war ecclesiology although this does seem to have been a sentiment of greater moment to intellectuals and theologians than parishioners.  About these matters there was however a kind of ecumenical sensitivity emerging and the conciliar theology later was crystallised (if not exactly codified) in the papers of Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965, published 1970).  The comparison with the practice in Rome is interesting because there are more similarities than differences although that is obscured by words like “enthronement” and “coronation” being seemingly embedded in the popular (and journalistic) imagination. That’s perhaps understandable because for two millennia as many as 275 popes (officially the count is 267 but it’s not certain how many there have been because there have been “anti-popes” and allegedly even one woman (although that’s now largely discounted)) have sat “on the throne of Saint Peter” (retrospectively the first pope) so the tradition is long.  In Roman Catholic canon law, “enthronement” is not a juridical term; the universal term is capio sedem (taking possession of the cathedral (ie “installation”)) and, as in England, an appointment is formalized once the legal instruments are complete, the subsequent ceremony, while an important part of the institution’s mystique, exists for the same reason as it does for the Church of England or the House of Windsor: it’s the circuses part of panem et circenses (bread and circuses).  Unlike popes who once had coronations, archbishops of Canterbury never did because they made no claim to temporal sovereignty.

Pope Paul VI in triple tiara at his coronation, The Vatican, June. 1963.  It was the last papal coronation.

So, technically, modern popes are “installed as Bishop of Rome” and in recent decades the Holy See has adjusted the use of accoutrements to dispel any implication of an “enthronement”, the last papal coronation at which a pope was crowned with the triple tiara was that of Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) but in “an act of humility” he removed it, placing it on the on the alter where (figuratively), it has since sat.  Actually, Paul VI setting aside the triple tiara as a symbolic renunciation of temporal and monarchical authority was a bit overdue because the Papal States had been lost to the Holy See with the unification of Italy in 1870 though the Church refused to acknowledge that reality; in protest, no pope for decades set foot outside the Vatican.  However, in the form of the Lateran Treaty (1929), the Holy See entered into a concordat with the Italian state whereby the (1) the Vatican was recognized as a sovereign state and (2) the church was recognized as Italy’s state religion in exchange for which the territorial and political reality was recognized.  Despite that, until 1963 the triple tiara (one tier of which was said to symbolize the pope’s temporal authority over the papal states) appeared in the coronations of Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958), John XXIII (1881-1963; pope 1958-1963) and Paul VI (who didn’t formally abolish the rite of papal coronation from the Ordo Rituum pro Ministerii Petrini Initio Romae Episcopi (Order of Rites for the Beginning of the Petrine Ministry of the Bishop of Rome (the liturgical book detailing the ceremonies for a pope's installation)) until 1975.

The Chair of St Augustine.  In church circles, archbishops of Canterbury are sometimes said to "occupy the Chair of St Augustine".

The Chair of St Augustine sits in Canterbury Cathedral but technically, an AoC is “twice installed”: once on the Diocesan throne as the Bishop of the see of Canterbury and also on the Chair of St Augustine as Primate of All England (the nation's first bishop) and spiritual leader of the worldwide Anglican Communion. So, there’s nothing unusual in Sarah Mullally being “installed” rather than “enthroned” as would have been the universal terminology between the reformation and the early twentieth century.  Linguistically, legally and theologically, the choice of words is a non-event and anyone who wishes to describe Dame Sarah as “enthroned” may do so without fear of condemnation, excommunication or a burning at the stake.  What is most likely is that of those few who notice, fewer still are likely to care.

Camembert & Brie

Camembert (pronounced kam-uhm-bair or ka-mahn-ber (French))

(1) A village in the Normandy region of France.

(2) A mellow, soft cheese, the centre of which is creamy and of a golden cream color, made from cow's milk.

1867 (the cheese): The cheese is named after Camembert, the village near Argentan, Normandy where it originated.  The village name was from the Medieval Latin Maimberti (field of Maimbert), a West Germanic personal name derived from the Proto-Germanic maginą (strength, power, might) and the Proto-Germanic berhtaz (bright).  A rich, sweet, yellowish cream-cheese with the name Camembert was first sold in 1867, but the familiar, modern form of the cheese dates from 1791.  Camembert is a masculine form; the strong, genitive Camembertes or Camemberts and there is no plural.

Camembert labels from the Serge Schéhadé collection.

A tyrosemiophile is one for whom collecting the colorful (usually round) labels affixed to wooden boxes of Camembert cheese wheels is (depending on where they sit on the spectrum) variously a hobby, calling or obsession.  The practice is called tyrosemiophilia (the construct being the Ancient Greek tyro (cheese) + semio (sign; label) + philos (love) and while there appears to be no documented use of tyrosemiophobia (morbid dread or aversion to Camembert cheese labels), there’s no reason why someone who suffered some disturbing experience with a wheel of Camembert wouldn’t become a tyrosemiophobe.  Collecting objects with a high degree of structural similarity (Camembert cheese labels, beer bottle tops etc) has much appeal for some and in cultural studies is classed as “connoisseurial collecting”, described as a collecting focused on variations within a narrow type (which can be structural, thematic chronologic etc but tends to exclude much within the field collected by those casting a wider net).  The hobby (or whatever) falls under the rubric of “typological accumulation” in which objects are exemplars of a “type” and while each is to some degree different, their attraction lies in the similarity, something like Karl Marx’s (1818-1883) exasperated description of peasants as “…like a sack of potatoes, all the same, yet all different”.

Camembert labels from the Serge Schéhadé collection.

Whether such things especially draw “obsessional collectors” doesn’t seem to have been studied but the characteristics of the stuff (Camembert cheese labels a classic example): (1) structurally similar objects, (2) tiny differences (colors, typography etc) and (3) adaptability to being stored or displayed in a precise, geometrical form may hint at the personality type attracted.  Cognitive psychology has identified how pleasing some find “variation within sameness” and that seemed in some way linked to PRDW (pattern recognition dopamine reward) in which the brain rewards the subject for creating, modifying or spotting subtle distinctions within a structured set.  Cheese production being an ongoing business, the collecting of Camembert labels is obviously not a closed system but within the whole, it can be possible to achieve “complete sets” (a single producer, region, period etc) and this aspect too is a thing among collectors.

Camembert labels from the Serge Schéhadé collection.

Among producers, there is something of a tradition of making the labels miniature “works of art” with themes including, florals, farm animals, fields of grass, famous (dead) figures from history and, of course, comely milkmaids in period costumes.  There is in France the CTF (Club Tyrosémiophile de France), which has existed since 1960 and still conducts annual conferences (a significant part of which are the “swap-meet” sessions at which members can sell or exchange labels and like any commodity, based on desirability (the prime determinate usually rarity), the value of items varies.  Collectively the club’s inventory now includes several million labels, many of which are on display at the Camembert Museum in Vimoutiers, Normandy and there are plans to digitize the collection and make them publicly accessible.  That millions of different cheese labels exist may not surprise those who recall the (apparently apocryphal) quote attributed to Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969): “How can one govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?” because, even in Le Général’s time, the true count was well into four figures.  In a sign of the times, as the CTF’s membership roll dies off, numbers are shrinking because the young seem not attracted to the cause.  Interestingly, it’s said the artistic labels (called étiquettes in French) date from circa 1910 where they were used as means of attracting children, the idea being the same as the little trinkets distributed in breakfast cereal boxes; the small proto-consumers being trained as “influencers” there to persuade their parents to buy more cheese so they could afforce their label collection.

The flaccid cheese wheel in surrealist art: La persistència de la memòria (The Persistence of Memory) is Salvador Dalí’s (1904-1989) most reproduced and best-known painting.   Completed in 1931 and first exhibited in 1932, since 1934 it has hung in New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA).

Salvador Dalí’s (1904-1989) most reproduced and best-known painting, La persistència de la memòria is better known by the more evocative title: Melting clocks.  Amused at the suggestion the flaccidity of the watches was a surreal pondering of the implications of Albert Einstein's (1879-1955) theory of special relativity (1905), Dalí provided an earthier explanation, saying his inspiration came from imagining a wheel of Camembert melting in a Catalan summer sun.  Dali's distortions were of course a deliberate device.  Celebrities who manage inadvertently to produce their own by not quite mastering Photoshop or other image-editing software quickly find the internet an unforgiving critic.  For better or worse, AI artificial intelligence has now reached the point where such manipulation is often close to undetectable.

Brie (pronounced bree)

(1) A mainly agricultural region in north-east France, between the Seine and the Marne, noted especially for its cheese.

(2) A salted, creamy, white, soft cheese, ripened with bacterial action, originating in Brie and made from cow's milk.

(3) A female given name (with the spelling variant Bree), from the French geographical region but also as a truncation of Brianna.

1848 (the cheese): The name of the cheese is derived from the name of the district in department Seine-et-Marne, southeast of Paris, the source being the Gaulish briga (hill, height).  The English brier (a type of tobacco pipe introduced circa 1859) is unrelated to the cheese or the region in France which shares the name.  The pipes were made from the root of the Erica arborea shrub from the south of France and Corsica, from the French bruyère (heath plant) from the twelfth century Old French bruiere (heather, briar, heathland, moor), from the Gallo-Roman brucaria, from the Late Latin brucus (heather), from the Gaulish bruko- (thought linked with the Breton brug (heath), the Welsh brwg and the Old Irish froech).  The noun plural is bries.

Lindsay Lohan with cheese board, rendered by Vovsoft as a pen drawing: Clockwise from top left, Camembert, Shropshire, Morbier, Nerina & Appenzeller.

Before the French crown assumed full-control in the thirteenth century, the region of Brie was from the ninth century divided into three sections ruled by different feudal lords, (1) the western Brie française (controlled by the King of France), corresponding approximately to the modern department of Seine-et-Marne in the Île-de-France region, (2) the eastern Brie champenoise (controlled by the Duke of Champagne), forming a portion of the modern department of Marne in the historic region of Champagne (part of modern-day Grand Est) and (3) the northern Brie pouilleuse, forming part of the modern department of Aisne in Picardy.  As well as the cheese, Brie is noted for the culturing of roses, introduced circa 1795 by the French explorer Admiral Louis-Antoine, Comte de Bougainville (1729–1811).  Papua New Guinea’s (PNG) Bougainville Island and the Bougainvillea flower were both named after him.

Whipped Brie dip.

A trick of commercial caterers, wedding planners and others who have to gain the maximum visual value from the food budget is whipped Brie dip.  Often a feature of charcuterie boards or a flourish at wine & cheese events, apart from the taste, the main attraction is that aerating Brie almost doubles its volume, making it a cost-effective component.  Technically, the reason the technique works so well as a base is the aeration increases the surface area of the material which comes into contact with the taste receptors.  There are few rules about what goes into a whipped Brie dip although honey, salty bacon & lemon-infused thyme tend often to be used, some including crushed walnuts.  Timing has to be managed because it’s at its best just after being prepared and served at room temperature; if it’s chilled it sets hard and becomes difficult to spread and will break any cracker being dipped.  So, it can be a last-minute task but preparation time is brief and it’s worth it.

Brie & Camembert

Wheel of Camembert.

Both thought delicious by cheese fiends, Brie & Camembert are often confused because the appearance is so similar, both soft, creamy cheeses with an edible white rind and tending to be sold in wheels (squat little cylinders) though it’s easier to tell the difference with cheeses made in France because there they usually maintain the convention that a Camembert will be smaller (unless it’s a baby Brie or petit Brie which will be indicated on the label).  Because most Brie is matured in larger wheels, it’s often sold in wedges, rare among Camembert because the wheels are so small.  However, in the barbaric English-speaking world where anything goes, Brie is sometimes sold in smaller sizes.  Traditionally, like most, they were farmhouse cheeses, but have long been produced mostly in larger artisanal cheeseries or on an industrial scale.

Wheel of Brie.

Both originally created using unpasteurized cow's milk, thanks to the dictatorial ways of humorless EU eurocrats and their vendetta against raw milk, they’re now almost always made with pasteurized milk although there remain two AOP (Appellation d'origine protégée (Protected designation of origin)) unpasteurised Bries, Brie de Meaux & Brie de Melun and one AOP Camembert, Camembert de Normandie, said best to be enjoyed with French cider.  As a cheese, Brie is characterized as being refined, polite and smooth whereas a Camembert is more rustic, the taste and texture earthier (food critics like to say it has more of a “mushroomy taste”), cream being added to the curd of Brie which lends it a milder, more buttery finish and double and triple Brie are even more so.  To ensure the integrity of the brand, French agricultural law demands that a double-cream cheese must contain 60-70% butterfat (which results a fat content around 30%+ in the finished product.  Although variations exist, according to calorieking.com.au, Brie contains 30.5g fat and 18.5g protein per 100g and the same amount of Camembert, 25g fat and 19.5g protein.

Visually, if left for a while at room temperature, it’s easier to tell the difference because a Camembert will melt whereas Brie will retain its structure.  Because of the marked propensity to melt into something truly gooey, Camembert is often used in cooking, sometimes baked and paired with cranberry sauce or walnuts but. Like Brie, is also a staple of cheese plates, served with things like grapes or figs and eaten with crackers, crusty bread and just about any variety of wine.  One local tradition in the Brie region was the Brie Noir (a type of longer-ripened Brie) which villagers dipped into their café au lait over breakfast.

Turkey, Camembert and cranberry pizza (serves 4)

Ingredients

4 medium pita breads
Olive oil spray
120ml cranberry sauce
1 small garlic clove, minced
80g Camembert, sliced and torn
200g lean shaved turkey breast
8 table spoons parmesan cheese
1 cup rocket leaves

Instructions

(1) Heat oven to 390°F (200°C) conventional or 360°F (180°C) fan-forced and line 2 oven trays with baking paper.

(2) Place pita bread on trays and spray lightly with olive oil.

(3) Mix cranberry sauce with garlic and smear onto the pita bread.

(4) Top with Camembert, shaved turkey and finish with a sprinkling of parmesan.

(5) Bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes until golden and the cheese has melted.

(6) Remove from the oven, sprinkle over rocket leaves and serve.

Phyllo-Wrapped Brie With Hot Honey and Anchovies (serves 10-12)

Ingredients

¼ cup chopped roasted red bell pepper (pre-packaged is fine as well as fresh)
3 oil-packed anchovy fillets, minced
1 garlic clove, finely grated or minced
¾ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
1 pound phyllo (or filo) dough (must be thawed if bought frozen)
10 tablespoons (1¼ sticks) unsalted butter, melted
1 large (about 26 ounces (750 grams)) wheel of Brie
Hot honey (or regular honey (see below)) for serving
Crackers and/or sliced bread, for serving

Instructions

(1) Heat the oven to 425°F (220°F). In a small bowl, stir together the roasted bell pepper, anchovies, garlic, and lemon zest. Set aside.

(2) On a clean work surface, lay out the phyllo dough and cover it with a barely damp kitchen towel to keep it from drying out. Take 2 phyllo sheets and lay them in an 11 × 17-inch rimmed baking sheet. Brush the top sheet generously with melted butter, then lay another 2 phyllo sheets on top the opposite way, so they cross in the centre and are perpendicular to the first two (like making a plus sign). Brush the top sheet with butter. Repeat the layers, reserving 4 sheets of phyllo.

(3) Using a long sharp kitchen knife, halve the Brie horizontally and lay one half, cut-side up, in the centre of the phyllo (you will probably need another set of hands to help lift off the top layer of cheese). Then spread the red pepper mixture all over the top. Cover with the other half of Brie, cut-side down, and then fold the phyllo pieces up around the Brie. There will be a space in the centre on top where the Brie is uncovered, and that’s okay.

(4) Lightly crumple one of the remaining sheets of phyllo and place it on top of the phyllo/Brie package to cover up that space. Drizzle a little butter on top, then repeat with the remaining phyllo sheets, scattering them over the top of the pastry and drizzling a little butter each time. It may look messy but will bake up into gorgeous golden waves of pastry, so fear not.

(5) Bake until the phyllo is golden, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove it from the oven and let it rest for about 15 minutes before drizzling it with the hot honey. Slice (it will be runny) and serve with crackers or bread, and with more hot honey as needed.

Most baked Bries tend to the sweet with layers of jam or chutney beneath the crust but this is a savoury variation using anchovies, garlic, and roasted bell peppers.  A drizzle of honey and the pinch of lemon zest lends the dish a complexity and for the best effect it should be served straight from the oven because that’s when the Brie is at its most seductively gooey.  It’s ideal with crisp crackers or crusty bread for crunch.  The hot honey is a bit of a novelty and those who want to enhance or tone-down the effect can create their own by stirring a pinch or more of cayenne into any mild honey.

Authentic

Authentic (pronounced aw-then-tik)

(1) Something not false or copied; genuine; real.

(2) Having an origin supported by unquestionable evidence; authenticated; verified: with certified provenance.

(3) Representing one’s true nature or beliefs; true to oneself or to the person identified.

(4) Entitled to acceptance or belief because of agreement with known facts or experience; reliable; trustworthy.

(5) In law, executed with all due formalities; conforming to process.

(6) In music (of a church mode and most often applied to the Gregorian chant), having a range extending from the final to the octave above.

(7) In music (of a cadence), progressing from a dominant to a tonic chord.

(8) In musical performance, using period instruments and historically researched scores and playing techniques in an attempt to perform a piece as it would have been played at the time it was written (or in certain cases, first performed).

(9) Authoritative; definitive (obsolete).

1300–1350: From the Middle English authentik & autentik (authoritative, duly authorized (a sense now obsolete)), from the Old French autentique (authentic; canonical (from which thirteenth century Modern French gained authentique)), from the Late Latin authenticus (the work of the author, genuine ( which when used as a neuter noun also meant “an original document, the original”), from the Ancient Greek αὐθεντικός (authentikós) (original, primary, at first hand), the construct being αὐθέντης (authéntēs) (lord, master; perpetrator (literally, “one who does things oneself; one who acts independently (the construct being aut(o-) (self-) + -hentēs (doer)) + -ikos (–ic) (the adjective suffix)), from the primitive Indo-European root sene- (to accomplish, to achieve).  The alternative spellings authentical, authentick, authenticke & authentique are all archaic.  Authentic is an adjective (and a non-standard noun), authentically is an adverb, authenticity & authentification are nouns, authenticate, authenticating & authenticated are verbs; the most common noun plural is authentifications.

The modern sense of something “real, entitled to acceptance as factual” emerged in the mid-fourteenth century and synonyms (depending on context) include true, veritable, genuine, real, bonafide, bona fide, unfaked, reliable, trustworthy, credible & unfaked.  As antonyms (the choice of which will be dictated by context and sentence structure) the derived adjectives include: non-authentic, inauthentic & unauthentic (the three usually synonymous but nuances can be constructed depending on the context) and the curious quasi-authentic, used presumably to suggest degrees of fakeness, sincerity etc).  Inauthentic from 1783 is the most often used and thus presumably the preferred form and in this it competes also with phony, fake, faux, bogus, imitation, clone, impersonation, impression, mimic, parody, reflection, replica, tribute, reproduction, apery, copy, counterfeit, ditto, dupe, duplicate, ersatz, forgery, image, likeness, match, mime, mimesis, mockery, parallel, resemblance, ringer, semblance, sham, simulacrum, simulation, emulation, takeoff, ripoff, transcription, travesty, Xerox, aping, carbon copy, echo, match, mirror, knockoff, paraphrasing, parroting, patterning, representation & replica & the rare ingenuine.  The verb authenticate (verify, establish the credibility of) dates from the 1650s and was from the Medieval Latin authenticatus, the past participle of authenticare, from the Late Latin authenticus; the form of use in the mid seventeenth century was sometimes “render authentic”.  The noun authenticity (the quality of being authentic, or entitled; acceptance as to being true or correct) dates from the 1760 and replaced the earlier authentity (1650s) & authenticness (1620s).

Beware of the inauthentic: The authentic Lindsay Lohan (left) and the Grand Theft Auto's (GTA 5) ersatz (right), a mere "generic young woman".

Concurring with the 2016 ruling of the New York County Supreme Court which, on appeal, also found for the game’s makers (Take-Two, aka Rockstar) , the judges, as a point of law, accepted the claim a computer game’s character "could be construed a portrait", which "could constitute an invasion of an individual’s privacy" but, on the facts of the case, the likeness was "not sufficiently strong".  The “… artistic renderings are an indistinct, satirical representation of the style, look and persona of a modern, beach-going young woman... that is not recognizable as the plaintiff" Judge Eugene Fahey wrote in his ruling.  Judge Fahey's words recalled those of Potter Stewart (1915–1985; associate justice of the US Supreme Court 1958-1981) when in Jacobellis v Ohio (378 U.S. 184 (1964) he wrote: “I shall not today attempt further to define… and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so.  But I know it when I see it…”  Judge Fahey knew a basic white girl when he saw one; he just couldn't name her.  Lindsay Lohan's lawyers did not seek leave to appeal.

The game’s developers may have taken the risk of incurring Lindsay Lohan’s wrath and indignation because they’d been lured into a false sense of security by Crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) not filing a writ after a likeness of her appeared on GTA 4’s (2008) Statue Of Happiness which stands on Happiness Island, just off the coast of Liberty City.  The Statue of Happiness was a blatant knock-off of the New York’s Statue of Liberty and crooked Hillary became a determined and acerbic critic of Rockstar and the GTA franchise after the “Hot Coffee” scandal.  That controversy arose after modders promulgated a code which in GTA: San Andreas’ release (2004) unlocked a hidden “mini-game” which allowed players to control explicit on-screen sex acts.  Men having sex with women with whom they don’t enjoy benefit of marriage is a bit of a sore point with crooked Hillary, then a US senator (Democrat-NY), who embarked on a campaign for new regulations be imposed on the industry and the most immediate consequence was the SSRB (Entertainment Software Rating Board) launching an investigation, subsequently raising GTA: San Andreas’ rating from “M” (Mature) to “AO” (Adults Only 18) until the objectionable content was removed.  For those who wondered if the frightening visage on the GTA 4 statute really was what some suspected, the object’s file name was “stat_hilberty01.wdr”.

Roskstar's Statue Of Happiness in GTA 4 (2008, left) and an official photograph of crooked Hillary Clinton (right). 

Rockstar seeking vengeance was understandable because crooked Hillary’s moral crusade proved tiresome for the company.  Once the ESRB had been nudged into action, crooked Hillary petitioned the FTC (Federal Trade Commission) to (1) find the source of the game's “graphic pornographic and violent content”, (2) determine if it should be slapped with an AO rating and (3) “examine the adequacy of the retailers' rating enforcement policies.”  Not content, she then announced she’d be sponsoring in the Senate a bill for an act which would make it a federal crime (with a mandatory US$5,000 fine) to sell to anyone under 18, violent or sexually explicit video games; the Family Entertainment Protection Act was filed on 17 December 2005 and referred to the Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation, where quietly it was allowed to expire.

While the act slowly was being strangled in committee hearings, the FTC and Rockstar reached a settlement, the commission ruling the company had violated the Federal Trade Commission Act (1914) by failing to disclose the inclusion of “unused, but potentially viewable” explicit content” (that it was enabled by a third party was held to be “not relevant”).  The settlement required Rockstar “clearly and prominently disclose on product packaging and in any promotion or advertisement for electronic games, content relevant to the rating, unless that content had been disclosed sufficiently in prior submissions to the rating authority” with violations punishable by a fine of up to US$11,000.  In the spirit of the now again fashionable Calvin Coolidge (1872-1933; US president 1923-1929) era capitalism, no fine was imposed for the “Hot Coffee incident”, presumably because the company had already booked a US$24.5 million loss from the product recall earlier mandated.

Real & fake appears as simple and obvious a dichotomy as black & white but humanity has managed over the millennia to create many grey areas in many shades, thus the wealth of antonyms and synonyms for “authentic”.  Authentic now carries the connotation of an authoritative confirmation (which can be formalized as a process which culminates with the issue of a “certificate of authenticity” although the usefulness of that of course depends on the issuing authority being regarded as authentic.  Genuine carries a similar meaning but in a less formalized sense and in some fields (such as the art market), something can simultaneously be genuine yet not authentic (a painting might for example be a genuine seventeenth century oil on canvas work yet not be the Rembrandt it was represented to be; it’s thus not authentic).  The word real is probably the most simple term of all and can often be used interchangeably but unless what’s being described is unquestionable “real” in every sense, more nuanced words may be needed.  Veritable was from the Middle French veritable, from the Old French veritable, from the Latin veritabilis, from vēritās (truth), the construct being vērus (true; real) +‎ -tās (the suffix used to form abstract nouns).  The traditional of use in English however means veritable had become an expression of admiration (eg “she is a veritable saint”) rather than a measure of truthfulness or authenticity.

Other nuances also organically have evolved.  Authentic now implies the contents of the thing in question correspond to the facts and are not fictitious while genuine implies that whatever is being considered is something unadulterated from its original form although what it contains may in some way be inauthentic.  This is serviceable and as long as it’s not used in a manner likely to mislead is a handy linguistic tool but as Henry Fowler (1858–1933) noted in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926), it was an artificial distinction, “…illustrated by the fact that, “genuine” having no verb of its own, “authenticate” serves for both”.

Degrees of authenticity: 2016 Jaguar XKSS (continuation series)

In 2016 Jaguar displayed the first of nine XKSS "continuation" models.  In 1957, Jaguar had planned a run of 25 XKSSs which were road-going conversions of the Le Mans-winning D-type (1954-1956).  Such things were possible in those happier, less regulated times.  However, nine of the cars earmarked for export to North America were lost in fire so only 16 were ever completed.  These nine, using the serial numbers allocated in 1957 are thus regarded as a "continuation of the original run" to completion, Jaguar insisting it is not "cloning itself".  The project was well-received and the factory subsequent announced it would also continue the production run of the lightweight E-Types, again using the allocated but never absorbed ID numbers.  Other manufacturers, including Aston Martin, have embarked on their own continuation programmes and at a unit cost in excess of US$1 million, it's a lucrative business.

In the upper (or at least the most obsessional) reaches of the collector car market, the idea of “authenticity” is best expressed as “originality”.  As early as the 1950s when the market began to the process of assuming its present form, originality was valued because many of the pre-war machines first to attract interest (Bentley, Rolls-Royce, Lagonda etc from the UK, Duesenberg, Stutz, Cadillac etc from the US and Mercedes-Benz, Isotta Fraschini, Bugatti etc from Europe) had over the years receive different coachwork from that which was originally supplied.  At the time however, the contemporary records suggest that if a rakish new body had replaced something dowdy, it was a matter for comment rather than objection.  Nor were replacement engines and transmissions thought objectionable as long as they replicated the originals, there then being an understanding things wear out.  Those mechanical components were however among the first to come to the attention of the originality police and “matching numbers” became a thing, every stamped component with a serial number (engine blocks & heads, transmission cases, differential housings etc) which could be verified against factory records, made a car more collectable and thus more valuable.  It was a matter of originality which came to matter, not functionality which mattered; a newer, better engine detracted from the value.  In some cases originality was allowed to be a shifting concept especially with vehicles used in competition; if a Ferrari was found to be on its third engine, that was fine as long as each swap was performed, in period, by the factory or its racing team.

That exception aside, it’s now very different and, all else being equal, the most authentic collectable of its type is the one most original.  These days collectors will line up their possessions in rows to be judged by “certified judges” who, clipboards in hand will peak and poke, ticking or crossing the boxes as they go.  They’re prepared to concede the air in the tyres, the fuel in the tank and the odd speck of dust on the carpet may not be what was there when first the thing left the factory but points will be deducted for offenses such as incorrect screw heads, or a hose clap perhaps being installed clockwise rather than anti-clockwise.  Sometimes a variation from the original can’t be detected, even by a certified judge.  If a component (without a verifiable serial number) has been replaced with a genuine factory part number, if done properly that will often get a tick whereas a reproduction part from a third-party manufacturer will often have some barely discernible difference and thus get a cross.

An Elite Marti Report including the factory option list and door data plate info, reproductions of the door data plate & window sticker and personalized production statistics.  All these are supplied mounted on a board (in Ford matte blue) installed in a 16 x 20 inch (405 x 508 mm)" black frame.

Given the money which churns around the market, there’s a bit of an informal industry in faking authenticity and with some vehicles it is actually technically possible exactly to take a mundane version of something and emulate a more desirable model; the difference in value potentially in the millions.  In some cases however, even if technically possible, it may be functionally not: If it’s notorious that only ten copies were produced of a certain model and all have for decades been accounted for, it’s not plausible to possess an eleventh. However, there are instances where the combination of (1) the factory not maintaining the necessary records and (2) the vehicle itself not being fitted with the requisite stampings or identification plates to determine exactly what options may originally have been fitted.  However, even if documented and thus "authenticated", there can still be pitfalls.  In the collectable market for vehicles (Ford, Lincoln & Mercury) produced in the US by the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) between 1967-2017, the gold standard is the service offered by mechanical engineer Kevin Marti's (b 1957) Marti Auto Works.  That company has been licensed by FoMoCo to generate reports detailing the specification (mechanical, trim, options) on the day it left the factory, all data grabbed directly from Ford's databases.  Available at three price-point (Standard, Deluxe & Elite), a Marti report is a valuable resource for both buyers and sellers.  However, what the reports provide is what is in the database and that reflects the specification with which a vehicle should have been built and while the phrase "Monday & Friday cars" (popularized by Arthur Hailey's (1920-2004) novel Wheels (1971)) shouldn't be taken literally, its currency in the era was an indication mistakes did happen on car production lines and, given the factories were every day producing them in the thousands, that should not be a surprise.  QC (quality control) inspections meant many E&O (errors and omissions) were rectified but some did slip through and while most were minor enough to be corrected by dealers, if the buyer was content to be appeased with a partial refund or credit, a vehicle could enter the wild with a specification in some way different from what was recorded in FoMoCo's database.  Only a comparatively tiny number of such vehicles each year appeared but if a vehicle represented as "original" or "matching numbers" varies in some detail from the authoritative Marti Report, a seller will benefit if in possession of additional explanatory documents.  As a footnote, the reason Ford's records prior to 1967 are not available is because the company "destroyed" the granular data. 

An authentic 1967 Chevrolet SS 427.

Because of the way the data details were recorded on the tags attached to Chevrolet’s vehicles during this era it can be difficult for collectors always to verify a car as presented is in quite the form it was when first it emerged from the factory.  Quite a few 1967 Impalas have been modified to “become” and SS 427 and it can take an expert to authenticate the real thing, the difference between one and another meaning tens of thousands of dollars in value.  Fortunately, there are many experts and they are needed to distinguish between the clones and the real SS 427s (the model achieving 2,124 sales in 1967, 1,778 in 1968 and 2,455 in its swansong season in 1969.  The 1967 Chevrolet SS 427 is now a collectable but it’s also a pedant’s delight because (1) although Impala-based it’s not by most treated as an Impala (this is contested) and (2) there was also a 1967 Impala SS 427 which is similar but not identical; technically, the SS 427 was a full-sized Chevrolet with RPO (regular production option) Z24.  In collector terms, the things were not especially rare but the ecosystem of Chevrolet’s full-sized SS range was by then in decline; from a peak of almost 240,000 SS Impalas in 1965, volumes just two years later had fallen by some by over 80% to just 40,000 as customer interest shifted to the smaller, lighter pony cars and intermediates.  It was a trend affecting all manufacturers and even before the muscle car era ended, the high-performance, full-sized segment would be driven to extinction, not by government pressure or edict but by lack of interest.

An authentic 1967 Chevrolet SS 427 cockpit.

Chevrolet’s SS (Super Sport) option was released in 1961 as a bundle available for Impalas with high-performance V8s: it featured both suspension modifications and dress-up items including unique body and interior trim, power steering, power brakes with sintered metallic linings, full wheel covers with a three blade spinner, a passenger grab bar, a console for the floor shift, and a tachometer on the steering column.  In that year, Chevrolet built close to half a million Impalas but only 453 buyers (a scant 142 of whom selected the top 409 cubic inch (6.7 litre) engine) opted for what was (at US$53.80) the bargain-priced SS package, an indication the marketing needed to be tweaked.  The problem was that Chevrolet had intended the 1961 SS live up to its name and it was available only with the 348 (5.7) & 409 V8s which could be quite raucous and were notably thirstier than many were prepared to tolerate, even then.  What dealers noted was how buyers were drawn to the style but put off by the specification which demanded much more from the driver that the smaller-engined models which wafted effortlessly along, automatic transmissions by now the default choice for most Impala buyers.

So the sales barrier was the implication of the costs attached to the SS bundle rather than the attractiveness.  The headline number of US$53.80 actually included only the "spinner" wheel covers, SS badges, a shiny floor plate for the four-speed's shifter and a Corvette-style grab-bar for the glove-box (Ralph Nadar (b 1934) noted that one).  However, ticking the SS option box triggered a list of "mandatory options" (a seeming oxymoron Detroit came to adore) including wider tyres (with compulsory narrow-band whitewalls), PAS & PB, (power assisted steering & power brakes), LPO (Limited Production Option) 1108 (Police Handling Package, a bundle including HD (heavy-duty) suspension components and sintered metallic brake linings), a steering column mounted 7000 rpm tachometer and a padded dashboard (the last little more than reassuringly decorative and unlikely much to impress Mr Nader).  Having agreed to pay for all that, the buyer then had to decide whether to opt (at progressively increasing cost) for the 348 (with 305, 340 or 350 horsepower (HP)) or 409 (360 HP).  The Powerglide two-speed  automatic transmission was available only with the mildest of the 348s, further limiting the sales potential, the three or four-speed manual otherwise obligatory.  In 1961, it was much more expensive to buy a SS Chevrolet than the US$53.80 on the brochure suggested and however pleasing, it was a long way removed from Chevrolet's traditional place as the low-priced rung on the "Sloan ladder".  The decision was thus taken for 1962 to make the "show" available without the "go" and the SS became an "appearance package", available with even six-cylinder engines.  Sales skyrocketed and between 1962-1969 some 920,000 SS packages were sold for the full-sized line; it was for years a handy revenue sub-centre.   

An authentic 1967 Chevrolet SS 427.

GM had noted the dress-up bits were just Chevrolet part-numbers which could be ordered by dealers, some of which received customer requests separately to fit the trim pieces so some 1961 Impalas did to some extent resemble the SS cars though without the high-performance equipment.  Thus from 1962 the SS option became widely available and consisted of bling and accessories, able to be ordered with even the most modest engines.  Splitting the market between drag-strip monsters and boulevard cruisers which could be made to look much the same proved a great success.  It was obvious there were more buyers who wanted their Impala to look like a a fast one than were able or prepared to pay for the experience and Chevrolet’s “SS appearance package” proved influential, the approach becoming a a template for the whole industry, spreading internationally, the Porsche 911T Lux (1972-1973) an example.  The entry level 911T was the least powerful of the range and lacked some of the luxury fittings of the more expensive and more powerful 911E & 911S but for those who wanted the fittings but had no desire (or willingness to pay) for the horsepower, the 911T Lux was created which combined the mechanical specification of the "T" with the trim of the "S", the factory doing exactly what so many of Chevrolet's SS customers settled on after 1962.

An authentic 1967 Chevrolet SS 427.

Starting in 1967, beyond the standard-issue SS models, buyers could also choose the SS 427 model (RPO Z24) but confusingly, an Impala SS could be ordered with the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 a situation which continued until the 1969 model year when, according to Chevrolet, only the SS 427 was available despite the company that year adding the “Impala” badges not used on the SS 427s in 1967 & 1968.  It’s little wonder the big-bodied 427s of those three years confuse many.  The flavours of the 427 V8 offered over the years also bounced around: For 1967, only the 385 horsepower (HP) L36 was available, the choice the next year extended to the L36 (390 HP) & L72 (425 HP), that pair augmented in 1969 by the LS1 (335 HP).  Curiously a triple-carburetor option had been scheduled to appear on the 1967 SS 427 (and the Camaro) but both were cancelled after one of GM’s many corporate edicts, the three simulated stacks on the hood (bonnet) a relic of the late change of plans.

Rear-seat "leaping impala" emblem in an authentic 1967 Chevrolet SS 427.

According to Chevrolet's fall 1966 brochure the SS 427 was: “The ’67 Super Sports by Chevrolet” which sounds definitive but whether the 1967 & 1968 SS 427s are really Impalas still is discussed between two factions, both with entrenched positions and it's unlikely minds ever have been changed.  It’s something like the 1948 debate about the existence of God between British Jesuit priest & historian of philosophy Frederick Copleston (1907–1994) and noted atheist, British mathematician & philosopher Bertrand Russell (Third Earl Russell, 1872–1970): When someone with a sincere belief debates with someone with a sincere lack of belief, opinions are unlikely to change.  One faction argues that because no “Impala” badge appears anywhere on the 1967-1968 cars then obviously they're not Impalas while the other points out that in every other aspect they're obviously Impalas before playing their trump card: the stylized “leaping impala” emblem, prominently which sits in the middle of the rear seat.  So it’s a matter of whether “symbol trumps (lack of) text” which seems one of the industry’s more sterile debates though it has never gone away and that the Impala badge returned for 1969 presumably can be interpreted to afforce the theories of either side.  Nothing in the VIN (vehicle identification number) reflects whether a full-size Chevrolet is a SS 427 or another model so an original build sheet and/or window sticker with the vital Z24 reference will be the best evidence.  There are now many 1967-1969 SS 427 "clones" (fake, faux, tribute, reproduction & replica the other terms used depending on circumstances and claims asserted) and the authentication of what's genuine and what's not is a minor industry in the collector market. 

Authenticity in art 

Christ with the Woman Taken in Adultery (1942), oil on canvas by Han van Meegeren (1889–1947) following Johannes Vermeer (1632–1675).

The matter of authenticity is obviously important in the art market.  Usually the critical factor is the identity of the artist.  In May 1945, immediately after the liberation from Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, the authorities arrested Dutch national Han van Meegeren (1889–1947) and charged him with collaborating with the enemy, a capital crime.  Evidence had emerged that van Meegeren had during World War II (1939-1945) sold Vermeer's Christ with the Woman Taken in Adultery to Hermann Göring (1893–1946; prominent Nazi 1922-1945, Reichsmarschall 1940-1945).  His defense was as novel as it was unexpected: He claimed the painting was not a Vermeer but rather a forgery by his own hand, pointing out that as he had traded the fake for over a hundred other Dutch paintings purchased (frequently transactions of dubious legality) earlier by the Reichsmarschall, he was thus a national hero rather than a Nazi collaborator.  Understandably, the judges were sceptical but, in the courtroom, he provided a practical demonstration of his skill, added to his admission having forged five other fake "Vermeers" during the 1930s, as well as two "Pieter de Hoochs" all of which had shown up on European art markets since 1937.  He convinced the court and was acquitted but was then, as he expected, charged with forgery for which he received a one year sentence, half the maximum available to the court.  He died in prison of heart failure, brought on by years of drug and alcohol abuse.

His skills with brush and paint aside, Van Meegeren was able successfully to pass off his 1930s fakes as those of a seventeenth century painter of the Dutch Golden Age (not all critics agree Vermeer should be classified an "artist of the baroque" despite the timing) because of the four years he spent meticulously testing the techniques by which a "new" painting could be made to appear, even to experts, centuries old.  The breakthrough was getting the oil-based paints thoroughly to harden, a process which occurs naturally over fifty-odd years, his novel solution being to mix the pigments not with oil but the synthetic resin Bakelite.  For his canvases, he used genuine but worthless seventeenth-century paintings, removing as much of the picture as possible, scrubbing carefully with pumice and water, taking the utmost care not to lose the network of cracks, the existence of which would play a role in convincing many expert appraisers they were authentic Vermeers.  Once dry, he baked the canvas and rubbed a carefully concocted mix of ink and dust into the edges of the cracks, emulating the dirt which would, over centuries, accumulate.

Authentically guilty as sin: Hermann Göring in the dock, Nuremberg, 1946.

Modern x-ray techniques and chemical analysis mean such tricks can no longer succeed but, at the time, so convincing were his fakes no doubts were expressed and the dubious Christ with the Woman Taken in Adultery became Göring's most prized acquisition, quite something given the literally thousands of pieces of art he looted from Europe.  One of the Allied officers who interrogated Göring in Nuremberg prison prior to his trial (1945-1946) recorded that the expression on his face when told "his Vermeer" was a fake suggested that "...for the first time Göring realized there really was evil in this world".

So the identity of the painter matters, indeed, between 1968-2014, there was a standing institution called the Rembrandt Research Project (RRP), an initiative of the Nederlandse Organisatie voor Wetenschappelijk Onderzoek (the NOW; the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research), the charter of which included authenticating all works attributed to the artist (Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn (1606-1669).  That was a conventional approach to authentication but there are others.  In the West there’s a long standing distinction between “high art” and “popular art” but not all cultures have that distinction and when the output of artists from those cultures is commoditised, what matters is ethnicity.  In Australia, the distinctive paintings categorized as “indigenous art” have become popular and are a defined market segment and what determines their authenticity is that they are legitimately and exclusively the work of indigenous artists.  The styles, of which dot painting is the best known, are technically not challenging to execute and thus easy to replicate by anyone and this has caused where non-indigenous hands have been found (or alleged) to be involved in the process.

The Times (London), 8 March 1997.

In 1997, Elizabeth Durack (1915–2000), a Western Australian disclosed that the much acclaimed works of the supposed indigenous artist “Eddie Burrup” had actually been painted by her in her studio, Eddie Burrup her pseudonym.  To make matters worse, prior to her revelation, some of the works had been included in exhibitions of Indigenous Australian art.  Although noted since the 1980s, the phrase “cultural appropriation” wasn’t then widely used outside of academia of activist communities but what Ms Durack did was a classic example of a representative of a dominant culture appropriating aspects of marginalized or minority cultures for some purpose.  Sometimes (perhaps intentionally) misunderstood, the critical part of cultural appropriation is the relationship between the hegemonic and the marginal; a white artist creating work in the style of an indigenous, colonized people and representing it in a manner which suggests it’s the product of an indigenous artist is CA.  Condoleezza Rice (b 1954; US secretary of state 2005-2009) playing Chopin on a Steinway is not; that’s cultural assimilation.  Once the truth was known, the works were removed from many galleries where they had hung and presumably the critical acclaim they had once received was withdrawn.  Both responses were of course correct.  Had Ms Durack represented the works as her own and signed them thus that would have been cultural appropriation and people could have responded as they wished but to represent them as the works of someone with a name all would interpret as that of an indigenous artist was said by some to be both cultural appropriation and deceptive & misleading conduct with all that that implies.

One of the photographs run by the Murdoch-owned daily newspaper The Australian in a report on the involvement of white people in the production of "indigenous paintings", April 2023.

More recently, there have been accusations white staff employed in a commercial gallery where indigenous Australian artists are employed to create paintings have been influenced, assisted or interfered with (depending on one’s view) in the production process.  According to the stories run in the Murdoch press, a white staff member was filmed suggesting some modification to an artist although whether this was thought to be on artistic grounds or an attempt to make something more resemble "what sells best" isn’t clear.  However, in a sense the motive doesn’t matter because the mere intervention detracts from the authenticity of the product, based as it is not on the inherent artistic merit but on the artist being indigenous.  In that the case was conceptually little different from Göring’s “Vermeer” which for years countless experts in fine art had acclaimed as a masterpiece while it hung in Carinhall, an opinion not repeated as soon as its dubious provenance was revealed.  Nor is it wholly dissimilar to the case of the replica 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO which is essentially a carbon copy of one of the 40-odd originals made (indeed it was in some ways technical superior) yet it is worth US$1.2 million while the record price for a genuine one was US$70 million.  So for a product to be thought authentic can depend on (1) that it was created by a certain individual, (2) that it was created by a member of a certain defined ethnicity or (3) that it was created by a certain institution.

Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World, circa 1505), oil on walnut by Leonardo da Vinci (1452–1519).

In art, authenticity is precious in more than one sense.  Salvator Mundi, the critics admit, is not an exceptional painting but once authenticated as the work of Leonardo, it created its own exceptionalism, in 2017 becoming the most expensive painting ever sold at public auction, attracting US$450 million when offered by Christie's auction house in New York.  The criteria for assessing the works of indigenous artists is also beneficial for them because unlike mainstream art, they’re not assessed as good or bad but merely as authentically indigenous or not.  That’s why there are no bad reviews of indigenous art or performance because (1) the concept is irrelevant, (2) such an idea is claimed to be alien to indigenous peoples and (3) if expressed by white critics would represent the imposition of a Western cultural construct on a marginalized group.  Dot paintings and such are marketed through the structures of the art market because physically they’re similar objects (size, weight etc) to other paintings but they’re really modern, mass-produced artefacts which depend on provenance as much as a Chevrolet SS 427, Ferrari 250 GTO, Leonardo or Vermeer.