Edition

Edition (pronounced ih-dish-uhn)

(1) One of a series of printings of the same publication, each issued at a different time and differing from another by alterations, additions etc (historically sometimes referred to as impressions).

(2) The format in which a work is published (single volume edition, abridged edition, leather-bound edition, French language edition etc).

(3) In newspaper production, a form of differentiation between different versions of the “same” issue (late edition, city edition etc) and used in a similar manner in radio & television broadcasting.

(4) In book collecting, as “first edition”, a copy of a book from its first release or print run.

(5) The whole number of impressions or copies of a book, newspaper etc, printed from one set of type at one time.

(6) A version of anything (physical and not), often (sometimes misleadingly) in forms such as “limited edition”, “special edition” etc).

1545–1555: From the French édition, from the Middle French, from the Latin ēditiōn- (publication), the stem of ēditiō (a bringing forth, publishing), the construct being ēdit, the past participle of ēdere (to give out; bring forth, produce) + -iōn (the suffix appended to a perfect passive participle to form a noun of action or process, or the result of an action or process).  When the word entered English in the sense of “version, translation, a form of a literary work” (and later “act of publishing”) the dominant linguistic influence was probably the Latin editionem (a bringing forth, producing (although in specialized use it also carried the meaning “a statement, an account rendered”, from the past-participle stem of ēdere, the construct being e(x) (in the sense of “out”) + -dere, a combining form of dare (to give), from the primitive Indo-European root do- (to give).  Edition is a noun; the noun plural is editions.  The adjective editionism is non-standard and was coined to describe the practice in commerce in which different “editions” of essentially the same product are brought to market in an effort to induce customers to purchase multiple items even though the difference between them may be little more than the packaging.  It's a cynically profitable approach (the additional production & distribution costs marginal) which works especially well for those with a dedicated (hopefully obsessional) following.

More Issues Than Vogue sweatshirt from Impressions.

In publishing and (sometimes vaguely) related fields, the terms “issue”, “edition” and “version” have come to be used so loosely that they sometimes function interchangeably but within the publishing industry, there are conventions of use: Issue traditionally was used to refer to a specific release of a recurring publication (magazine, journal, newspaper etc) and tended to be tied to the release sequence (“October 2024 Issue”, “Fall 2024 Issue”, “Issue No. 215” etc).  Issue can however be used also as “re-issue” which refers usually to a “re-print” of a previous edition although it’s not uncommon for blurbs like “re-issued with new foreword” or “re-issued in large print” to appear, the implication being the substantive content remains the same.  Edition was used of a particular form or version of a publication that might differ from previous ones in significant ways which might include text corrections, foreign language translations, or updates, thus descriptions like “German Language Edition”, “Second Edition” or “Abridged Edition.  Some editions (especially those which appear in an irregular sequence) actually give in their title some hint of the nature of what distinguishes them from what came before such as the convention adopted by the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic for their Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).  What the APA does is change the number if a DSM is regarded as a “new edition” but retain the number with an appended “R” (revised) or “TR” (text revision) if it’s an “updated edition”.  Thus has appeared the DSM-III-R (1987), the DSM-IV-TR (2000) and the DSM-5-TR (2022).  There’s some overlap in use for version and this perhaps reflects the influence of technology because it tends to be used of a specific form or variant of a publication such as language (eg Spanish version), format (eg audio version) or materials used in the construction (eg e-book version) rather than an implication of a chronological or iterative update (which in publishing tends to be called an “edition”.  In that the industry differs from IT where version numbers are almost always sequential although the convention widely used in the 1980s in which something like “version 2.4.3” could be interpreted as 2=major release, 4=update and 3=bug fix has long fallen into disuse.

Holy Bible, Revised Standard Version (RSV), 1952 limited edition, first printing by Thomas Nelson & Sons, brown full leather binding with inlaid gold lettering, silk end paper and green cardboard slip case, custom bound by the Chicago Bible Society.  US$750 from Abe Books.

There are also special uses which assume a life of their own, notably the Revised Standard Version (RSV), an English translation of the Bible published in 1952 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the US.  The RSV was a revision of the American Standard Version (ASV, 1901) and was published to render the text into the modern English which readily would be understood by a contemporary reader of modest education.  The object was not to change the meaning of the text but to preserve it and paradoxically this required editing the classic verses written by William Tyndale (circa 1494–1536) or in the King James Version (KJV, 1611) because the over hundreds of years the language had evolved and the much of what was in the original needed to be interpreted for a general audience and the controversy of clerical gatekeepers between God and his people had for centuries been a thing.  The RSV however has not been the last word and those who track novel initializms will have been delighted by the appearance of the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV, released in 1989 by the National Council of Churches (NCC) and the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue), published in 2021.  Students of such things aren’t expecting the next update for at least a decade but finding a name might prove more of a challenge than editing the Old Testament’s Book of Leviticus for a modern audience although those who have worked in biblical forks have found alpha-numeric solutions such as RSV-2CE (Revised Standard Version, Second Catholic Edition (2006))

First Edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses, "Copy No 1", held in the National Library of Ireland.  It contains in Joyce's hand an inscription to the English political activist Harriet Shaw Weaver (1876–1961) who was for decades his patron.

A first edition of Ulysses (1922) by James Joyce (1882–1941) in 2009 sold on the opening day of an antiquarian book fair London for Stg£275,000, at the time a record for a twentieth century first edition.  Ulysses is regarded in the industry as the most collectable modern novel and the first editions, printed on hand-made Dutch fine-paper, are well-catalogued and this was number 45 of the first edition print run (all signed by the author) of 100, one of four not previously accounted for.  It had been sold originally by the Manhattan’s obviously subversive Sunwise Turn bookshop (Ulysses at the times banned in the US) and remained in the possession of the same family, stored in its original box and thus not exposed to light, accounting for the preservation of the construction.  Proving that dealers in literary circles can gush with the finest used car salesmen, the dealer who arranged the sale explained: “The color is amazing – this lovely Aegean Sea, Greek flag blue which would normally have darkened into a more dirty blue but because it has been in a box it is a complete thing of beauty.”  The almost pristine condition was a product also of its history of use, an inspection suggesting it was seemingly unread except for the well-thumbed final chapter where the most salacious passages can be found.  The existence of unread copies of well-known books is not unusual and those notorious for sitting neglected on the bookshelf include “challenging” texts such as A Theory of Justice (1971) by John Rawls (1921–2002), A Brief History of Time (1988) by Stephen Hawking (1942–2018) and Joyce’s own, bafflingly difficult Finnegans Wake (1939).  Intriguingly, the antiquarian book business also includes the category “pre-first edition” (any limited run copy of a book printed before the “first edition” is published).  The apparent oxymoron is explained by “first edition” being an industry definition rather than a literal description; pre-first editions thus analogous with “pre-production” or “final prototype” cars which (if they’ve survive the crusher which claims many) can be prized by collectors.

Among special editions there are, inter alia, “Collector's Editions”, “Anniversary Editions” and even, in one instance, the “So Fetch Edition”.

In commerce, “special editions” have become notable income generators for content providers and the movie business has embraced the concept with editions such as “the making of”, “bloopers & out-takes”, “director’s cut” and others and the idea isn’t new.  Led Zeppelin's eighth studio album (In Through the Out Door (1979)) originally was sold with an outer sleeve of plain brown paper, stamped with nothing more than the while the cardboard sleeve proper within was released with six different versions of the artwork.  Buyers would thus not know which sleeve they were selecting.  There’s nothing to suggest it was anything but a gimmick and neither the band nor the record company were expecting many to keep buying copies in the plain brown wrapped until they’d scored all six covers but there were press reports at the time of “Led Heads”, doing exactly that.  The industry took note.

Taylor Swift's The Anthology, one of 34 available editions of The Tortured Poets Department.

The attraction of releasing multiple versions of essentially the same product with variations restricted to some added content or detail differences in the packaging is that the additional costs in production and distribution are marginal yet there’s sometimes it’s possible to charge a premium for the “non-standard editions”.  The practice had for decades been quite a thing with car manufacturers but the music business came also to like the idea because, unlike with the cars where customers tended to buy one at a time, obsessive fans of musicians might be persuaded they needed several copies of what was essentially the same thing.  Leftist UK student site The Tab noted few music fans were as obsessive as Taylor Swift’s (b 1989) Swifties and, more significantly, they were also impressively numerous and thus an irresistible catchment of disposable income.  What The TAB noted was the almost simultaneous release of a remarkable (and apparently unprecedented) 34 versions of Ms Swift’s eleventh album, The Tortured Poets Department (2024), something which as well as generating revenue has the statistical benefit of afforcing her presence on the charts, every sale counting as a 1.0.  Some were technologically deterministic in than four were released as audio cassettes and nine were exclusively digital but most were essentially the same product except for the inclusion of a bonus track and some were available only through the retailer Target.  The most obsessive Swifties obviously could buy all 34 editions but for those which want just an exhaustive collection of the music, it appeared all was included on the accurately named The Anthology so there was that.  One day, all 34, still (where appropriate) unopened in their original packaging, will begin to appear on auction sites.  The approach attracted some adverse comment (which the Swifties doubtless ignored) and probably confirmed in the mind of J.D. Vance (b 1984; US vice president since 2025) that childless cat ladies are evil.

All editions: The Tab’s The Tortured Poets Department discography:

1. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Manuscript
2. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Albatross
3. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Bolter
4. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Black Dog
5. Standard album and The Manuscript
6. Standard and The Manuscript (signed)
7. Standard and But Daddy I Love Him (Acoustic)
8. Standard and Guilty As Sin? (Acoustic)
9. Standard and Down Bad (Acoustic)
10. Standard and Fortnight (Acoustic)
11. Standard and Fresh Out The Slammer (Acoustic)
12. Target exclusive with The Albatross
13. Target exclusive with The Bolter
14. Target exclusive with The Black Dog
15. Target exclusive vinyl
16. The Manuscript vinyl (pressing one)
17. The Manuscript vinyl (pressing two)
18. The Albatross vinyl
19. The Bolter vinyl
20. The Black Dog vinyl
21. The Manuscript vinyl
22. The Anthology
23. Standard and The Black Dog ‘voice memo’
24. Standard album and Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me voice memo
25. Standard album and Cassandra voice memo
26. Standard album (digital)
27. Standard album and Daddy I Love Him (Acoustic)
28. Standard album and loml (live from Paris)
29. Standard album and My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys (live from Paris)
30. Standard album and The Alchemy / Treacherous mashup (live from Paris)
31. The Manuscript cassette
32. The Bolter cassette
33. The Albatross cassette
34. The Black Dog cassette

1976 Lincoln Continental Mark IV, Lipstick edition.  The shade of red appears to be close to Dior's lipstick #744 (Party Red).

The car manufacturers have produced at least hundreds of “special editions” and while many of them really weren't “especially special”, they kept returning to the concept because it was lucrative, the things usually profitable to an extent exceeding greatly the nominal sum of their parts.  Quite how many have existed over the years is difficult to estimate because, in addition to the well-documented examples from manufacturers which were sold nationally or even globally, some were offered only briefly or regionally and barely advertised.  Additionally, dealers or sometimes an agglomeration of them would also conjure up their own "special editions" so the total of such things is probably in the thousands.  Sometimes, fashion houses were paid to lend their name, AMC teaming with Pierre Cardin, Levi Strauss (Volkswagen also had a denim-trimmed Beetle though without a specific brand attribution) & Oleg Cassini while the Lincoln Continental at times was offered with themes by Emilio Pucci, Cartier, Bill Blass and de Givenchy although the most memorable were the reputed 500 “Lipstick editions”, a study in red & white, quite a sight given the expanse of sheet metal and leather.

1969 Dodge Charger R/T SE (left), 1972 Chrysler VH Valiant Charger 770SE E55 (centre left), 1976 Holden HX LE (centre right) and 2002 Mazda Miata Special Edition (MX-5 in some markets) (right).

In most of the “special” editions, offered over the decades, it was only in the advertising or press kits that terms like “special edition” or “limited edition” appeared.  Sometimes though, such physical badges did appear on the vehicles. In the US, on the 1969 Dodge Chargers with the SE option, the badge included both “SE” & “Special Edition” while in Australia, only “SE” appeared on the 1972 Chrysler VH Valiant Charger 770SE E55 (one of the industry’s longer model names) although the marketing material called it a “Special Edition”, a usage borrowed from the parent corporation in the US and even the badge used was the same part as that which had been stuck on the 1970 Dodge Challenger SE.  Holden’s frankly cynical (but most profitable) 1976 LE spelled out “Limited Edition” under a “LE” (in a larger font) while Mazda used only the full term for the Miata (MX-5) Special Edition models.

Last Call: 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170 (with two-piece “underwire”).

Dodge in 2023 embarked on a run of “special editions” on a grand scale, their “Last Call” programme a series of Dodge Challengers & Chargers packaged in a variety of ways but all distinguished by the inclusion of some flavor of Chrysler's third generation HEMI V8 (2003-), the significance of last call being the engine was being withdrawn from use in passenger-cars, a victim of government regulations intended to reduce vehicle emissions.  The programme yielded an array of Chargers & Challengers with specifications (ie horsepower and such) varying from “impressive” to “bonkers” and they were produced in batches of between 100 and 3,300.  The customers responded well with most editions soon “sold out” and, judging from the number with minimal mileage and still in “as delivered” condition which appeared rapidly on auction sites, many had been bought by those expected to “flip” them for profit.  Some did realise gains from the transactions but the market soon cooled, especially for the editions produced in the thousands but how many have been “stashed away” in the hope that years from now there will be those who will pay much, isn't known.

Last Call: 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat Black Ghost Special Edition (with one-piece “underwire”).  As well as the impressive engineering, the Last Call programme yielded some unusually long model names.

That strategy may play out well for those speculating on a surge in value in the years to come when, for a certain class of customer, the specifications of a Last Call Dodge will seem intoxicating in a world in which such things have long been extinct.  That was for many the plan but the future has been clouded by Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025), his second administration releasing plans to “roll-back” vehicle emission standards and Chrysler, thus encouraged, announced in 2025 the HEMI V8 would re-appear in passenger vehicles, a decision which wouldn't have much troubled the board because the market has greeted the replacement straight-six engines with restrained enthusiasm.  Doubtless there will be those who noted Chrysler's announcement and, contemplating the thought of their carefully stored Challenger(s) becoming a depreciating asset, will have consulted lawyers to find if grounds for redress exist, the argument being they were “induced” to purchase on the promise of a “last call” being exactly that.  Unfortunately, there is a precedent and it's not encouraging.

Another “last call”: The “last American convertible” ceremony, Cadillac Clark Street Assembly Plant, Detroit, Michigan, 21 April 1976.

In the US, by the late 1960s, sale of convertibles had for years been declining and with the growing volume of government regulations about vehicle safety (which included “roll-over standards”, the industry was working on the assumption the body-style would soon be banned.  Given the declining demand for such things the manufacturers were sanguine about this and even pleased to have something to have to use to “trade off” against regulations they definitely did not want imposed.  By 1975 the Cadillac Eldorado was the only one of the few big US convertibles still available selling in reasonable numbers but the platform was in its final years and with no guarantee a version based on the new, smaller Eldorado (to debut in 1978) would enjoy similar success, General Motors (GM) decided it wasn’t worth the trouble but, sensing a “market opportunity”, promoted the 1976 model as the “Last American convertible”.  Sales spiked, some to buyers who purchased the things as investments, assuming in years to come they’d have a collectable and book a tidy profit on-selling to those who wanted a (no longer available) big drop-top.  Not only did GM use the phrase as a marketing hook; when the last of the 1976 run rolled off the Detroit production line on 21 April, the PR department, having recognized a photo opportunity, conducted a ceremony, complete with a “THE END OF AN ERA 1916-1976”) banner and a “LAST” Michigan license plate.  The final 200 Fleetwood Eldorado convertibles were “white on white on white”, identically finished in white with white soft-tops, white leather seat trim with red piping, white wheel covers, red carpeting & a red instrument panel; red and blue hood (bonnet) accent stripes marked the nation’s bicentennial year.

The “last American convertible” ceremony, Cadillac Clark Street Assembly Plant, Detroit, Michigan, 21 April 1976.

Of course in 1984 a convertible returned to the Cadillac catalogue so some of those who had stashed away their 1976 models under wraps in climate controlled garages weren’t best pleased and litigation ensued, a class action filed against GM alleging the use of the (now clearly incorrect) phrase “Last American Convertible” had been “deceptive or misleading” in that it induced the plaintiffs to enter a contract which they’d not otherwise have undertaken.  The suit was dismissed on the basis of there being insufficient legal grounds to support the claim, the court ruling the phrase was a “non-actionable opinion” rather than a “factual claim”, supporting GM's contention it had been a creative expression rather than a strict statement of fact and thus did not fulfil the criteria for a “deceptive advertising” violation.  Additionally, the court found there was no actual harm caused to the class of plaintiffs as they failed to show they had suffered economic loss or that the advertisement had led them to make a purchase they would not otherwise have made.  That aspect of the judgment has since been criticized with dark hints it was one of those “what’s good for General Motors is good for the country” moments but the documentary evidence did suggest GM at the time genuinely believed the statement to be true and no action was possible against the government on several grounds, including the doctrines of remoteness and unforeseeability.  If HEMI V8 powered coupés and sedans soon re-appear in Dodge's showrooms, it may not be only Greta Thunberg (b 2003) who will be upset.

Limited Edition, less limited profit: The Holden LE

1976 HX Holden LE

By the mid 1970s, the market had come to prefer the cheaper, smaller and easier to use cassette tapes which meant warehouses were soon full of the once desirable 8-track players and buyers were scarce.  In Australia, GMH (General Motor Holden) by 1975 had nearly a thousand in the inventory which also bulged with 600-odd Monaro body-shells, neither of which were attracting customers; fashions change and both had become unfashionable.  Fortunately, GMH was well-acquainted with the concept of the "parts-bin special edition" whereby old, unsaleable items are bundled together and sold at what appears a discount, based for advertising purposes on a book-value retail price there’s no longer any chance of realizing.  Thus created was the high-priced, limited edition LE (which stood for "Limited Edition", the Monaro name appearing nowhere although all seem still to use the name), in metallic crimson with gold pin striping, golf "honeycomb" aluminium wheels, fake (plastic) burl walnut trim and crushed velour (polyester) upholstery; in the 1970s, this was tasteful.  Not designed for the purpose, the eight-track cartridge player crudely was bolted to the console but five-hundred and eighty LEs were made, GMH pleasantly surprised at how quickly they sold with no need to resort to discounting.  When new, they listed at Aus$11,500, a pleasingly profitable premium of some 35% above the unwanted vehicle on which it was based; these days, examples are advertised for sale for (Aus$) six-figure sums and anyone who now buys a LE does so for reasons other than specific-performance.  Although of compact size (in US terms) and fitted with a 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8, it could achieve barely 110 mph (175 km/h), acceleration was lethargic by earlier and (much) later standards yet fuel consumption was high; slow and thirsty the price to be paid for the early implementations of the emission control plumbing bolted to engines designed during more toxic times.      

1971 Holden HQ Monaro LS 350

The overwrought and bling-laden Holden HX typified the tendency during the 1970s and of US manufacturers and their colonial off-shoots to take a fundamentally elegant design and, with a heavy-handed re-style, distort it into something ugly.  A preview of the later “malaise era” (so named in the US for many reasons), it was rare for a facelift to improve the original.  The 1971 HQ Holden was admired for an austerity of line and fine detailing; what followed over three subsequent generations lacked that restraint.  The HX LE was one of a number of "special" and "limited" editions offered during the era and it remains one of the few remembered.

Vexillology

Vexillology (pronounced vek-suh-lol-uh-jee)

The study of and the collection of information about flags.

1957 (and in print since 1959): The construct was vexill(um) + -ology.  Vexillum (the plural vexilla) was from the Latin vēxillum (flag, banner), from the Proto-Italic wekslolom (and synchronically a diminutive form of vēlum), from the Proto-Italic wekslom, from the primitive Indo-European wegslom, from weg- (to weave, bind) and cognate with the English wick.  The Latin vexillum translated literally as “flag; banner” but in English was used to mean (1) a flag, banner, or standard, (2) in military use a formation company of troops serving under one standard, (3) the sign of the cross, (4) in botany, the upper petal of a papilionaceous flower and (5) in ornithology, the rhachis and web of a feather taken together.  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism etc).  Vexillology, vexillologist vexillographer, vexillophilia, vexillophile & vexillolatry are nouns, vexillological & vexillologic are adjectives; the most common noun plural is vexillologists.

A vexillographer is one who designs flags, standards & banners, a vexillophile is (1) someone who collects and displays flags and (2) one who studies flags, their history and meaning.  Although there are vexillophiles, there is in medicine no recognized condition known as vexillophilia (which would be a paraphilia describing the sexualized objectification of flags (ie flag) although following the convention established in recent revisions to the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) (DSM-5 (2013) & DSM-5-TR (2022)), the correct clinical description would now be "flag partialism"; vexillophiles anyway prefer to describe themselves as "flag nerds".  Nor is there any record of there being instances of vexillophobia (a morbid fear of flags); there are those opposed to what flags represent  but that's not the same as being a vexillophobe which would be something specific about this type of bunting in general.  In political science, there is the word flagophobe (also as flagphobe), a derogatory term used usually by those on the right (and other nationalists) as a slur suggesting a want of patriotism in an opponent they’ve usually already labelled as “liberal”.  It's based on a metaphorical connection between a national flag and pride in one's country and is thus not a reference to a fear of flags in general.  To vexillize (or vexillate) can mean (1) to gather or to lead an army under a flag, (2) to organize or to lead people under a common cause or goal, (3) to make a flag (sewing, printing, digitally distributing etc), (4) to design a flag or (5) to introduce a specific depiction on a flag.

Wrapped: Vexillologist Lindsay Lohan and the stars & stripes.  The phrase “wrapping themselves self in the flag” is used of politicians who attempt to disguise their self-serving motives by presenting something as being in the national interest or being done for patriotic reasons.  The companion term is “patriotism is the last refuge of the scoundrel”, a observation made in 1775 by Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) of the hypocrisy of William Pitt (1708-1778 (Pitt the Elder); First Earl of Chatham & UK prime-minister 1766-1768).

Quite when the first flag was flown is not known but so simple is the concept and so minimal the technology required for fabrication that as forms of identification or communication they may have been among the earliest examples of symbolic representation.  Although the nation-state as its now understood is a relatively new creation (barely a thousand years old), prior to that there had for millennia been organized settlements with distinct identities and there is evidence from surviving works of art and drawings that something like a flag existed in the Mediterranean region as long ago as the fourth century BC and it’s possible such things were in use in China even earlier.  The familiar concept of the national flag evolved as the modern nation state emerged in Europe in the late Middle Ages and early modern period and traditionally, Denmark's Dannebrog is cited as the oldest national flag extant, having being in continuous use (though not always as the symbol of state) since the thirteenth century.

An array of Denmark's Dannebrog (usually translated as "the cloth of the Danes") on flagpoles.

The legend is that during a battle on 15 June 1219 in what is modern-day Estonia, the Danish army was on the defensive and defeat seemed imminent when suddenly, a red banner with a white cross fell from the sky.  As a result, the fortunes of war shifted, the Danish army won the battle and Denmark gained a flag.  The implication was of course the symbol was a "sign from God" and countless armies have rallied from difficult positions if soldiers can be persuaded victory can be won "with God on our side". 

Inherently, a small piece of colored glass three metres in the air can have no effect on a passing car yet the use of red, amber & green traffic lights is what makes modern road systems function as efficiently as they do.  They work because people (usually) respond as they should through the lens of semiotics, the signifier being the color of the light, the signified the instructions conveyed (green=”go”; amber=”prepare to stop or proceed with caution” & red=”stop”) and the referent the physical need to go, proceed only with caution or stop.  The power of the glass lies wholly in its symbolism and the implied consequences of ignoring its message.  Flags, mere pieces of fabric, have no inherent political or military force yet have for millennia been among the most valued and contested of symbols; men have died defending pieces of bunting which could have been replaced with a tick of a supply sergeant’s pen, simply because of the symbolism.  Because so much of the structure was fake, symbolism was integral to the appeal of Nazism (and fascism in general) and by the early summer of 1942, on a map, the military position of Nazi Germany looked impressive, its forces still maintaining a presence in North Africa, control extending to the Arctic Circle, most of Western Europe occupied from Norway to the south of France and the territorial gains from Operation Barbarossa (1941) reaching well into the Soviet Union.  However, the map substantially reflected the gains which had been made in 1941 and by mid-1942 it was clear to the German military they had under-estimated the ability of the Soviet armies to absorb losses and recover.  It was clear Germany no longer had the strength successfully to advance along the massive front created by Barbarossa and even Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) realized that, at least temporarily, more modest strategic aims would have to be pursued.

What Hitler set in train was a multi-pronged operation which would have been strategically sound had (1) the resources been available to sustain it and (2) there had not been such a gross under-estimation of the available Soviet military capacity.  Originally, the plan had been to advance on the Caucasus after the encirclement and destruction of the defending forces in the Stalingrad region and the occupation of the city itself.  This was changed, splitting the attacking force to allow the city and the Caucasus simultaneously to be conquered and the area envisaged was vast, including the eastern coast of the Black Sea, the forbidding Caucasian mountain passes and the oil fields of Grozny & Baku, far to the south.  The German generals didn’t need much more than the back of an envelope to work out it simply couldn’t be done and that rather than undertaking sound planning based on reliable intelligence, the Führer was indulging in little more than wishing & guessing.  “Wishing & guessing” was General George Marshall’s (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) critique of Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) dabblings in military matters and the comment wasn’t unjustified but the difference was that while the Allied high command was able to restrain (and if need be, veto) the prime-minister’s romantic (essentially Napoleonic) adventurism, the Wehrmacht’s generals and admirals had by 1942 long been dominated by Hitler.  The German army was however generally the most effective ground force of the war and remarkably, achieved some early tactical gains but such were the distances involved and the disparity of forces available that the offensive was not only doomed but culminated in the loss of some 230,000 troops at Stalingrad, a calamity from which the army never quite recovered and among the German people damaged the prestige of the regime to an extent no previous setback had done.

Third Reich War Flag, Mount Elbrus, August 1942.

Hitler, at least in 1942, wasn’t delusional and understood he was running a risk but his gambler’s instincts had for twenty years served him well and he still clung to the belief a strength of will could overcome many disadvantages, even on the battlefield.  Early in the war, that had worked when he was facing divided, unimaginative or weak opponents but those days were over and he was well-aware (regardless of what he told the generals) he was playing for high stakes from with a bad hand.  That he was under great pressure and wracked by uncertainty (whatever might have been his outward displays of confidence) was probably the cause of a celebrated over-reaction to what was one of the war’s more trivial incidents: the planting of the Nazi war flag on the peak of Mount Elbrus, at 5,642 m (18,510 feet) the highest point in Europe.  Hitler thought pursuits like mountain climbing and skiing absurd but, like any practical politician, he liked a good photo-opportunity and had in peacetime been pleased to be photographed with those who had raised the swastika on some mountain or other (something which dedicated Nazis had been doing since the 1920s, long before the party in 1933 plotted and swindled their way into office).  On 21 August 1942, the Third’s Reich’s war flag, along with the divisional flags of the 1st and 4th Divisions fluttered in the wind on the roof of Europe and news of the triumph was transmitted to FHQ (Führer Headquarters).

In the throes of the offensive driving towards Stalingrad and the Caucases, the alpine troops who climbed the peak to plant the flag doubtless though they were “working towards the Führer” and providing him a priceless propaganda piece.  They probably expected medals or at least thanks but Hitler was focused on his military objectives and knew he needed every available man to be devoted to his job and upon hearing two-dozen soldiers had decided to ignore their orders and instead climb a hill of no strategic value, just to climb down again, his reaction was visceral, recalled in his memoirs by Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), then at FHQ:

“I often saw Hitler furious but seldom did his anger erupt from him as it did when this report came in. For hours he raged as if his entire plan of the campaign had been ruined by this bit of sport. Days later he went on railing to all and sundry about “those crazy mountain climbers” who “belong before a court-martial.” They were pursuing their idiotic hobbies in the midst of a war, he exclaimed indignantly, occupying an idiotic peak even though he had commanded that all efforts must be concentrated upon Sukhumi.”

The famous (and subtlety edited) photograph of the Soviet flag being raised over the Reichstag on 30 April 1945 during the Battle of Berlin (actually a staged-shot  taken on 2 May).

The Germans never made it to Sukhumi and the high-altitude sideshow by a handful of troops of course in no way affected the campaign but the reaction at FHQ was an indication of the pressure felt by Hitler.  The planting of a symbolic flag was also though symptomatic of the arrogance which had permeated the German military under the Nazis and it anyway proved a pyrrhic act of conquest, the standard torn down and replaced by the Soviet flag within six months; that the Russian army took the trouble to do that amid the clatter of war illustrates potency of national flags as propaganda devices.  One of the most famous photographs of the conflict was that of the Soviet flag in May 1945 being placed over the Reichstag in Berlin, a symbol of defeat of Nazism.  Interestingly, so important to the Kremlin was the image that the act was actually re-staged the next day, this time with a photographer in place to shoot a roll of film so the perfect shot could be selected and the Russians are not the only ones to have re-staged famous flag raisings.

A banner used in Croatia between 925-1102 (left), the current Croatian flag adopted after independence in 1990 (centre) and the Croatian naval ensign (1990).

One of the most ancient symbols to endure in modern nation flags is the red & white checkered pattern used to this day on the flag of Croatia.  The oldest known example dates from 925 and the pattern was used (with the odd interruption) for centuries, even when the country was a non-sovereign component of supranational states such as the Habsburg Empire.  A red star was used instead when Croatia was a part of comrade Marshall Tito’s (1892-1980) Jugoslavija (Yugoslavia) between 1945-1990 but the red & white checks were restored when independence was regained in 1990.

Applied vexillologist Ivana Knoll at the FIFA World Cup in Qatar.

Noted Instagram influencer Ivana Knoll (b 1992) was a finalist in the Miss Croatia beauty contest in 2016 and for her appearances at the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar, chose a number of outfits using the national symbol of the red and white checkerboard (matching the home strip worn by the team), taken from the Croatian national flag.  By the standards of Instagram, the design of the hoodie she donned for Croatia's game against Morocco at the Al-Bayat stadium wasn't particularly revealing but it certainly caught the eye.  As if Gianni Infantino (b 1970; president of FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (International Federation of Association Football) since 2016) doesn't have enough to ponder, the former Miss Croatia finalist tagged FIFA in her posts, fearing perhaps the president may not be among her 600,000 Instagram followers and her strategy seems to have had the desired effect although whether the design which, does cover her hair, shoulders and legs really was sufficiently demur to satisfy the local rules may have been contested by some imams.  The guidance provided by FIFA indicated non-Qatari women don’t need to wear the abaya (the long, black robe), tops must cover their midriff and shoulders, and skirts, dresses or trousers must cover the knees and clothing should not be tight or reveal any cleavage.  In accordance with the rules or not, Ms Knoll proved a popular accessory for Qatari men seeking selfies.

Four Citroën GS “Drapeaux” on the 400 metre athletics track at the Olympic Stadium, Munich, FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990) for the 1971 “The Car Without Borders” press event.

National flags sometimes appear on cars and while that’s done usually with badges, the bunting represented either in the singular (including the Triumph TR6 (1968-1976)) or in multiples for that “international flavour” (such as Cutlass Ciera emblem used by Oldsmobile between the mid-1970s and mid-1990s), in 1971 Citroën used the whole car as a harlequinesque canvas.  Based on mechanically standard GS hatchback and station wagon (Break) models, the flags which adorned the bodywork were those of the twelve nations which participated in voting for the 1971 (ECotY) European Car of the Year, won by the GS.  As well as the four created for the event in Munich, a number of replica GS Drapeaux were built (it’s not clear how many but it may have been as many as 24) for a continent-wide promotional tour, co-ordinated with Citroën dealers.  The voting for the 1971 ECotY was undertaken by a jury of 44 journalists and while not exactly a kind of “automotive Eurovision”, when the numbers were tallied the GS had received a majority in Czechoslovakia, Denmark, the FRG, the Netherlands and the UK, enough to take the title.  The French drapeaux was the plural of drapeau (flag), from the Old French drapel.  In the French dialectical form spoken in Louisiana, a drapeau was a diaper (nappy).

1971 Citroën GS 1220 Club Break in “Drapeaux” trim.

That the ECotY’s jury is made up of specialist automotive journalists has always tended to slant things towards the technically interesting which accounts for winners or place-getters including the NSU Ro80 (1967-1977 and the Wankel-engined winner in 1968 which effectively bankrupted its maker), the Jensen FF (1966-1974 and the first production road car with ABS & AWD (all-wheel-drive and then still called 4WD (four-wheel-drive)) and third in 1967) and the Oldsmobile Toronado (1965-1978 in its original configuration and third in (1966 despite using a 425 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 with FWD! (front-wheel-drive) and being as unsuited to the European market as just about anything ever made)).  The ECotY award winners haven’t always been a success in the market but did reflect the sort of machines which appealed to the particular profile of automotive journalists, a breed quite different from those who actually buy new cars.  Nor were the winners necessarily the “best” (admittedly a difficult quality to define), illustrated by the 1990 award when the outstanding Mercedes-Benz R129 (1988-2001) was runner up to the dreary Citroën XM (1989-2000).  By historic standards the GS (1970-1986) was a pretty good choice because not was it only an inspired design but also one which proved a success over a long period, unlike the runner up Volkswagen K70 (1970-1974) and third-placed Citroën SM (1970-1975).  The K70 had actually been inherited by VW when the moribund NSU was absorbed but the many troubles of the SM contributed to Citroën’s bankruptcy though probably not to the same extent as the GS Birotor (1973-1975 and known also as the CX) which used a Wankel engine. 

Flag of Mozambique (left) and flag of the Hezbollah (right).

The flag of the Hezbollah (right), the public display of which is banned in some jurisdictions where both the organization's political & military wings are listed as "terrorist organizations" includes a depiction of  Kalashnikov AK-47 assault rifle but that of Mozambique (left) is the only national flag to feature the famous weapon and the Africans fixed a bayonet to the barrel which was a nice touch.  Mozambique gained independence from Portugal in 1975 although the flag wasn’t officially adopted until 1983 as a modified version of what was essentially the battle flag of the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (FRELIMO, the Mozambique Liberation Front, the Marxist (later styled “democratic socialist”) resistance movement which fought a war of liberation (1964-1974) against the Portuguese colonial forces).  Artistically, just as Marxism (notably often in Stalinist form) had been politically influential in post-colonial Africa, the hammer & sickle exerted an artistic appeal.  The flag of Mozambique has an AK-47 crossed by a hoe sitting atop an open book and is the only national flag upon which appears a modern firearm, the handful of others with guns all using historic relics like muskets or muzzle-loaded cannons.  The Angolan flag has a machete crossing a half gear wheel and both these African examples follow the symbolic model of the hammer and sickle, representing variously the armed struggle against repression, the industrial workers and the peasantry.

Blazon

Blazon (pronounced bley-zuhn)

(1) In heraldry, an escutcheon or coat of arms or a banner depicting a coat of arms.

(2) In heraldry, a description (verbal or written or in an image) of a coat of arms.

(3) In heraldry, a formalized language for describing a coat of arms (the heraldic description of armorial bearings).

(4) An ostentatious display, verbal or otherwise.

(5) A description or recording (especially of the good qualities of a person or thing).

(6) In literature, verses which dwelt upon and described various parts of a woman's body (usually in admiration). 

(7) Conspicuously or publicly to set forth; display; proclaim.

(8) To adorn or embellish, especially brilliantly or showily.

(9) To depict (heraldic arms or the like) in proper form and color.

(10) To describe a coat of arms.

1275-1300: From the late thirteenth century Middle English blazon (armorial bearings, coat of arms), from the twelfth century Old French blason (shield, blazon (also “collar bone”).  Of the words in the Romance languages (the Spanish blason, Italian blasone, Portuguese brasao & Provençal blezo, the first two are said to be French loan-words and the origins of all remain uncertain.  According to the OED (Oxford English Dictionary), the suggestion by nineteenth century French etymologists of connections with Germanic words related to English blaze is dubious because of the sense disparities.  The verb blazon (to depict or paint (armorial bearings) dates from the mid sixteenth century and was either (or both) from the noun or the French blasonner (from the French noun).  In English, it had earlier in the 1500s been used to mean “descriptively to set forth; descriptively” especially (by at least the 1530s) specifically “to vaunt or boast” and in that sense it was probably at least influenced by the English blaze.  Blazon & blazoning are nouns & verbs, blazoner, blazonry & blazonment are nouns and blazoned & blazonable are adjectives; the noun plural is blazons.

A coat of arms, possibly of dubious provenance. 

The now more familiar verb emblazon (inscribe conspicuously) seems first to have been used around the 1590s in the sense of “extol” and the still common related forms (emblazoning; emblazoned) emerged almost simultaneously.  The construct of emblazon was en- +‎ blazon (from the Old French blason (in its primary sense of “shield”).  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” & “p”.

Google ngram: It shouldn’t be surprising there seems to have been a decline in the use of “blazon” while “emblazoned” has by comparison, in recent decades, flourished.  That would reflect matters of heraldry declining in significance, their appearance in printed materials correspondingly reduced in volume.  However, because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Self referential emblazoning: Lindsay Lohan's selfie of her modeling a sweater by Ashish, her visage emblazoned in sequins, London, November 2014.

Impressionistically though this assumption is, few would doubt “blazon” is now rare while “emblazoned” is far from uncommon.  While “emblazon” began with the meaning “that which the emblazoner does” (ie (1) to adorn with prominent, (2) to inscribe upon and (3) to draw a coat of arms) it evolved by the mid-nineteenth century with the familiar modern sense of “having left in the mind a vivid impression” (often in the form “emblazoned on one’s memory”).  In English, there’s nothing unusual in a derived or modified form of a word becoming common than its original root, even to the point the where the original is rendered rare, unfamiliar or even obsolete, a phenomenon due to changes in usage patterns, altered conventions in pronunciation or shifts in meaning that make the derived form more practical or culturally resonant.  That’s just how English evolves.

Other examples include (1) ruthless vs. ruth (ruth (pity; compassion) was once a common noun in Middle English but has long been extinct while ruthless, there being many who demand the description, remains popular), (2) unkempt vs kempt (kempt (neatly kept) would have been listed as extinct were it not for it finding a niche as a literary and poetic form and has also been used humorously or ironically), (3) disheveled vs sheveled (sheveled was from the Old French chevelé (having hair) and was part of mainstream vocabulary as late as the eighteenth century but, except in jocular use, is effectively non-existent in modern English) and (4) redolent vs dolent (redolent (evocative of; fragrant) was from dolent (sorrowful), from the Latin dolere (to feel pain)); redolent both outlived and enjoyed a meaning-shift from its root.

Etymologists think of these as part of the linguistic fossil record, noting there’s no single reason for the phenomenon beyond what survives being better adapted to cultural or conversational needs.  In that, these examples differ from the playful fork of back-formation which has produced (1) combobulate (a back-formation from discombobulate (to confuse or disconcert; to throw into a state of confusion) which was a humorous mock-Latin creation in mid-nineteenth century US English) (2) couth (a nineteenth century back-formation from uncouth and used as a humorous form meaning “refined”), (3) gruntled (a twentieth century back-formation meaning “happy or contented; satisfied”, the source being disgruntled (unhappy; malcontented) and most sources indicate it first appeared in print in 1926 but the most celebrated example comes from PG Wodehouse (1881–1975) who in The Code of the Woosters (1938) penned: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled.”  Long a linguistic joke, some now take gruntled seriously but for the OED remains thus far unmoved and (4) ept (a back-formation from inept (not proficient; incompetent or not competent (there is a functional difference between those two)) which was from the Middle French inepte, from the Latin ineptus).

Literary use

In literary use, “blazon” was a technical term used by the Petrarchists (devotes of Francis Petrarch (1304-1374), a scholar & poet of the early Italian Renaissance renowned for his love poems & sonnets and regarded also as one of the earliest humanists).  Blazon in this context (a subset of what literary theorists call “catalogue verse”) was adopted because, like the structured and defined elements of heraldic symbolism, Petrarch’s poems contained what might be thought an “inventory” of verses which dwelt upon and detailed the various parts of a woman's body; a sort of catalogue of her physical attributes.  Petrarch’s approach wasn’t new because as a convention in lyric poetry it was well-known by the mid thirteenth century, most critics crediting the tradition to the writings of Geoffrey of Vinsauf, a figure about whom little is although it’s believed he was born in Normandy.  In England the Elizabethan sonneteers honed the technique as a devotional device, often, in imaginative ways, describing the bits of their mistresses they found most pleasing, a classic example a fragment from Amoretti and Epithalamion (1595), a wedding day ode by the English poet Edmund Spenser (circa 1552-1599) to his bride (Elizabeth Boyle) in 1594:

Her goodly eyes like sapphires shining bright.
Her forehead ivory white,
Her cheeks like apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips like cherries charming men to bite,
Her breast like to a bowl of cream uncrudded,
Her paps like lilies budded,
Her snowy neck like to a marble tower,
And all her body like a palace fair.

Two bowls of cream uncrudded.

So objectification of the female form is nothing new and the poets saw little wrong with plagiarism, most of the imagery summoned salvaged from the works of Antiquity by elegiac Roman and Alexandrian Greek poets.  Most relied for their effect on brevity, almost always a single, punchy line and none seem ever to attempt the scale of the “epic simile”.  As can be imagined, the novelty of the revival didn’t last and the lines soon were treated by readers (some of whom were fellow poets) as clichés to be parodied (a class which came to be called “contrablazon”), the London-based courtier Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586) borrowing from the Italian poet Francesco Berni (1497–1535) the trick of using terms in the style of Petrarch but “mixing them up”, thus creating an early form of body dysmorphia: Mopsa's forehead being “jacinth-like”, cheeks of “opal”, twinkling eyes “bedeckt with pearl” and lips of “sapphire blue”.

William Shakespeare (1564–1616) however saw other possibilities in the blazon and in Sonnet 130 (1609) turned the idea on its head, listing the imperfections in her body parts and characteristics yet concluding, despite all that, he anyway adored her like no other (here rendered in a more accessible English):

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
   As any she belied with false compare.