Quartervent

Quartervent (pronounced kwawr-ter-vent)

A small, pivoted, framed (or semi-framed) pane in the front or rear side-windows of a car, provided to optimize ventilation.

1930s: The construct was quarter + vent.  Dating from the late thirteenth century, the noun quarter (in its numerical sense) was from the Middle English quarter, from the Anglo-Norman quarter, from the Old French quartier, from the Latin quartarius (a Roman unit of liquid measure equivalent to about 0.14 litre).  Quartus was from the primitive Indo-European kweturtos (four) (from which the Ancient Greek gained τέταρτος (tétartos), the Sanskrit चतुर्थ (caturtha), the Proto-Balto-Slavic ketwirtas and the Proto-Germanic fedurþô).  It was cognate to quadrus (square), drawn from the sense of “four-sided”.  The Latin suffix –arius was from the earlier -ās-(i)jo- , the construct being -āso- (from the primitive Indo-European -ehso- (which may be compared with the Hittite appurtenance suffix -ašša-) + the relational adjectival suffix -yós (belonging to).  The suffix (the feminine –āria, the neuter -ārium) was a first/second-declension suffix used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  The nominative neuter form – ārium (when appended to nouns), formed derivative nouns denoting a “place where stuff was kept”.  The Middle English verb quarteren, was derivative of the noun.  Dating from the mid fourteenth century, vent was from the Middle English verb venten (to furnish (a vessel) with a vent), a shortened form of the Old French esventer (the construct being es- + -venter), a verbal derivative of vent, from the Latin ventus (wind), in later use derivative of the English noun.  The English noun was derived partly from the French vent, partly by a shortening of French évent (from the Old French esvent, a derivative of esventer) and partly from the English verb.  The hyphenated form quarter-vent is also used as may be preferable.  Quartervent is a noun; the noun plural is quartervents.  In use, the action of using the function provided by a quartervent obviously can be described with terms like quarterventing or quartervented but no derived forms are recognized as standard.

The 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz of course had quarter vents (“vent windows” to the Americans) but unlike most in the world, they were electrically-activated.  This was a time when the company's slogan “Standard of the World” really could be taken seriously.

The now close to extinct quarter vents were small, pivoted, framed (or semi-framed) panes of glass installed in the front or rear side windows of a car or truck; their purpose was to provide occupants with a source of ventilation, using the air-flow of the vehicle while in motion.  The system had all the attributes of other admirable technologies (such as the pencil) in that it was cheap to produce, simple to use, reliable and effective in its intended purpose.  Although not a complex concept, General Motors (GM) in 1932 couldn’t resist giving the things an impressively long name, calling them “No Draft Individually Controlled Ventilation” (NDICV being one of history’s less mnemonic initializations).  GM’s marketing types must have prevailed because eventually the snappier “ventiplanes” was adopted, the same process of rationality which overtook Chrysler in 1969 when the public decided “shaker” was a punchier name for their rather sexy scoop which, attached directly to the induction system and, protruding through a carefully shape lacuna in the hood (bonnet), shook with the engine, delighting the males aged 17-39 to whom it was intended to appeal.  “Shaker” supplanted Chrysler’s original “Incredible Quivering Exposed Cold Air Grabber” (IQECAG another dud); sometimes less is more.  Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) suggested a good title for his book might be Viereinhalb Jahre [des Kampfes] gegen Lüge, Dummheit und Feigheit (Four and a Half Years of Struggle against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice) but his publisher thought that a bit ponderous and preferred the more succinct Mein Kampf: Eine Abrechnung (My Struggle: A Reckoning) and for publication even that was clipped to Mein Kampf.  Unfortunately, the revised title was the best thing about it, the style and contents truly ghastly and it's long and repetitious, the ideas within able easily to be reduced to a few dozen pages (some suggest fewer but the historical examples cited for context do require some space).

The baroque meets mid-century modernism: 1954 Hudson Italia by Carrozzeria Touring.  

Given how well the things worked, there’s long been some regret at their demise, a process which began in the 1960s with the development of “through-flow ventilation”, the earliest implementation of which seems to have appeared in the Hudson Italia (1954-1955), an exclusive, two-door coupé co-developed by Hudson in Detroit and the Milan-based Italian coachbuilder Carrozzeria Touring.  Although some of the styling gimmicks perhaps haven’t aged well, the package was more restrained than some extravagances of the era and fundamentally, the lines were well-balanced and elegant.  Unfortunately the mechanical underpinnings were uninspiring and the trans-Atlantic production process (even though Italian unit-labor costs were lower than in the US, Touring’s methods were labor-intensive) involved two-way shipping (the platforms sent to Milan for bodies and then returned to the US) so the Italia was uncompetitively expensive: at a time when the bigger and more capable Cadillac Coupe de Ville listed at US$3,995, the Italia was offered for US$4,800 and while it certainly had exclusivity, it was a time when there was still a magic attached to the Cadillac name and of the planned run of 50, only 26 Italias were produced (including the prototype).  Of those, 21 are known still to exist and they’re a fixture at concours d’élégance (a sort of car show for the rich, the term an unadapted borrowing from the French (literally “competition of elegance”) and the auction circuit where they’re exchanged between collectors for several hundred-thousand dollars per sale.  Although a commercial failure (and the Hudson name would soon disappear), the Italia does enjoy the footnote of being the first production car equipped with what came to be understood as “flow-through ventilation”, provided with a cowl air intake and extraction grooves at the top of the rear windows, the company claiming the air inside an Italia changed completely every ten minutes.  For the quartervent, flow-through ventilation was a death-knell although some lingered on until the effective standardization of air-conditioning proved the final nail in the coffin.

1965 Ford Cortina GT with eyeball vents and quartervents.

The car which really legitimized flow-through ventilation was the first generation (1962-1966) of the Ford Cortina, produced over four generations (some claim it was five) by Ford’s UK subsidiary between 1962-1982).  When the revised model displayed at the Earls Court Motor Show in October 1964, something much emphasized was the new “Aeroflow”, Ford’s name for through-flow ventilation, the system implemented with “eyeball” vents on the dashboard and extractor vents on the rear pillars.  Eyeball vents probably are the best way to do through-flow ventilation but the accountants came to work out they were more expensive to install than the alternatives so less satisfactory devices came to be used.  Other manufacturers soon phased-in similar systems, many coining their own marketing trademarks including “Silent-Flow-Ventilation”, “Astro-Ventilation” and the inevitable “Flow-thru ventilation”.  For the Cortina, Ford took a “belt & braces” approach to ventilation, retaining the quartervents even after the “eyeballs” were added, apparently because (1) the costs of re-tooling to using a single pane for the window was actually higher than continuing to use the quartervents, (2) it wasn’t clear if there would be general public acceptance of their deletion and (3) smoking rates were still high and drivers were known to like being able to flick the ash out via the quartervent (and, more regrettably, the butts too).  Before long, the designers found a way economically to replace the quartervents with “quarterpanes” or “quarterlights” (a fixed piece of glass with no opening mechanism) so early Cortinas were built with both although in markets where temperatures tended to be higher (notable South Africa and Australia), the hinged quartervents remained standard equipment.  When the Mark III Cortina (TC, 1970-1976) was released, the separate panes in any form were deleted and the side glass was a single pane.

Fluid dynamics in action: GM's Astro-Ventilation.

So logically a “quartervent” would describe a device with a hinge so it could be opened to provide ventilation while a “quarterpane”, “quarterlight” or “quarterglass” would be something in the same shape but unhinged and thus fixed.  It didn’t work out that way and the terms tended to be used interchangeably (though presumably “quartervent” was most applied to those with the functionality.  However, the mere existence of the fixed panes does raise the question of why they exist at all.  In the case or rear doors, they were sometimes a necessity because the shape of the door was dictated by the intrusion of the wheel arch and adding a quarterpane was the only way to ensure the window could completely be wound down.  With the front doors, the economics were sometimes compelling, especially in cases when the opening vents were optional but there were also instances where the door’s internal mechanisms (the door opening & window-winding hardware) were so bulky the only way to make stuff was to reduce the size of the window.

1976 Volkswagen Passat without quartervents, the front & rear quarterpanes fixed.

The proliferation of terms could have come in handy if the industry had decided to standardize and the first generation Volkswagen Passat (1973-1980) was illustration of how they might been used.  The early Passats were then unusual in that the four-door versions had five separate pieces of side glass and, reading from left-to-right, they could have been classified thus: (1) a front quarterpane, (2) a front side-window, (3) a rear side-window, (4) a rear quarterpane and (5) a quarterwindow.  The Passat was one of those vehicles which used the quarterpanes as an engineering necessity to permit the rear side-window fully to be lowered.  However the industry didn’t standardize and in the pre-television (and certainly pre-internet) age when language tended to evolve with greater regional variation, not even quarterglass, quartervent, quarterwindow & quarterpane were enough and the things were known variously also as a “fly window”, “valence window”, “triangle window” and “auto-transom”, the hyphen used and not.

1967 Chevrolet Camaro 327 with vent windows (left), 1969 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 without vent windows (centre) and Lindsay Lohan & Jamie Lee Curtis (b 1958) in Chevrolet Camaro convertible during filming of the remake of Freaky Friday (2003) (provisionally called Freakier Friday), Los Angeles, August 2024.  The Camaro can be identified as a 1968 or 1969 model because the vent windows were deleted from the range after 1967 when “Astro-Ventilation” (GM’s name for flow-through ventilation) was added.  In North American use, the devices typically are referred to as “vent windows” while a “quarter light” is a small lamp mounted (in pairs) in the lower section of the front bodywork and a “quarter vent” is some sort of (real or fake) vent installed somewhere on the quarter panels.

Ford Australia’s early advertising copy for the XA Falcon range included publicity shots both with and without the optional quartervents (left).  One quirk of the campaign was the first shot released (right) of the “hero model” of the range (the Falcon GT) had the driver’s side quartervent airbrushed out (how “Photoshop jobs” used to be done), presumably because it was thought to clutter a well-composed picture.  Unfortunately, the artist neglected to defenestrate the one on the passenger’s side.

Released in Australia in March 1972, Ford’s XA Falcon was the first in the lineage to include through-flow ventilation, the previously standard quartervent windows moved to the option list (as RPO (Regular Production Option) 86).  Because it’s a hot place and many Falcons were bought by rural customers, Ford expected quite a high take-up rate of RPO86 (it was a time when air-conditioning was expensive and rarely ordered) so the vent window hardware was stockpiled in anticipation.  However, the option didn’t prove popular but with a warehouse full of the parts, they remained available on the subsequent XB (1973-1976) and XC (1976-1979) although the take-up rate never rose, less the 1% of each range so equipped and when the XD (1979-1983) was introduced, there was no such option and this continued on all subsequent Falcons until Ford ceased production in Australia in 2016, by which time air conditioning was standard equipment.

Melodrama

Melodrama (pronounced mel-uh-drah-muh or mel-uh-dram-uh)

(1) A dramatic form (used in theatre, literature, music etc) that does not observe the laws of cause and effect and that exaggerates emotion and emphasizes plot or action at the expense of characterization.

(2) Loosely, (sometimes very loosely), behavior or events thought “melodramatic” (overly dramatic displays of emotion or behavior and applied especially to situations in which “things are blown out of proportion”).

(3) In formal definition (seventeenth, eighteenth & nineteenth centuries), a romantic dramatic composition characterized by sensational incident with music interspersed.

(4) A poem or part of a play or opera spoken to a musical accompaniment (technically, a passage in which the orchestra plays a somewhat descriptive accompaniment, while the actor speaks).

(5) A popular nickname conferred on highly-strung young women with a Mel*.* given name (Melanie, Melissa, Melina, Melinda, Melisandre, Melodie, Melody et al).

1784 (used in 1782 as melodrame): From the French mélodrame (a dramatic composition in which music is used), the construct being mélo- , from the Ancient Greek μέλος (mélos) (limb, member; musical phrase, tune, melody, song) + drame (refashioned by analogy with the Ancient Greek δρᾶμα (drâma) (deed, theatrical act) and cognate to the German Melodram, the Italian melodramma and the Spanish melodrama.  The adjective melodramatic (pertaining to, suitable for, or characteristic of a melodrama) came into use in 1789 (unrelated to political events that year).  Melodrama, melodramaticism, melodramaturgy, melodramatics & melodramatist are nouns, melodramatize, melodramatizing & melodramatized are verbs, melodramatic is an adjective and melodramatically is an adverb; the noun plural is melodramas or melodramata.

As late as the mid-nineteenth century “melodrama” was still used of stage-plays (usually romantic & sentimental) in which songs were interspersed, the action accompanied by orchestral music appropriate to the situations.  By the 1880s, the shift towards a melodrama being understood as “a romantic and sensational dramatic piece with a happy ending” and this proved influential, the musical element ceasing gradually to be an essential feature, the addition of recorded sound to “moving pictures” (movies) the final nail in the coffin.  Since then, a “melodrama” is understood to be “a dramatic piece characterized by sensational incidents and violent appeals to the emotions, but with (usually) a happy ending”.

The origins of melodrama lie in late sixteenth century Italian opera and reflect an attempt to convince audiences (or more correctly, composers and critics) that the form (ie opera or melodrama) was a revival of the Classical Greek tragedy.  It was a time in Europe when there was a great reverence for the cultures of Antiquity, something the result of the scholars and archivists (and frankly the publicists) of the Renaissance building a somewhat idealized construct of the epoch and the content providers noted the labels, the German-British Baroque composer Frederick Handel (1685–1759) using both for his works.  In the late eighteenth century French dramatists began to develop melodrama as a distinct genre by elaborating the dialogue and adding spectacle, action and violence to the plot-lines, a technique still familiar in the 2020s, sensationalism and extravagant emotionalism as effective click-bait now it was for ticket sales in earlier times.

The use of “melodrama” to refer to the life of a troubled popular culture figure represents a bit of a jump in meaning but it’s now well-understood.

The path of the musical form had earlier been laid in text, something becoming a more significant influence as the spread of the printing press made mass-market publications more accessible and they spread even within non-literate populations because as public and private readings became common forms of entertainment.  Although elements of what would later be understood as melodrama exist in the gloomy tragedies of the French novelist Claude Prosper Jolyot de Crébillon (1707–1777), more of an influence on the composers would be those who wrote with a lighter touch including the Swiss philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778) whose Pygmalion (1775) and French theatre director and playwright René-Charles Guilbert de Pixerécourt (1773–1844) whose Le Pèlerin blanc ou les Enfants du hameau (The White Pilgrim (or The Children of the Village)) both came to be regarded as part of the inchoate framework of the genre.  Literary theorists still debate the matter of cause & effect between melodrama and the growing vogue of the Gothic novel, one of fiction’s more emotionally manipulative paths, many concluding the relationship between the two was symbiotic.

There was also the commercial imperative.  Literary historians have documented the simultaneous proliferation of melodramas produced for the English stage during the nineteenth century (notably adaptations of novels by popular authors such as Charles Dickens (1812–1870) and Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)) and the paucity in original work of substance.  There are some who have argued the writers had “lost their ear” for dramatic verse and prose but it more likely they realized they had “lost their audiences” and these were people with bills to pay (the term “potboiler” was coined later to describe “books written only to provide food for the stove” but few authors of popular fiction have ever been far removed from concerns with their sales).  The reason the melodramas which flourished in the 1800s were so popular will be unsurprising to modern film-makers, political campaign strategists and other content providers for they can be deconstructed as a class of naively sensational entertainment in which the protagonists & antagonists were excessively virtuous or exceptionally evil (thus all tiresome complexities reduced for something black & white), the conflict played out with blood, thrills and violence (spectres, ghouls, witches & vampires or the sordid realism of drunkenness, infidelity or personal ruin used as devices as required).

The word “melodrama” appears often in commentaries on politics and that’s a trend which was probably accelerated by the presentation moving for most purposes to screens and Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) revolutionizing the business by applying the tricks & techniques of reality TV (itself an oxymoron) meant the whole process can now be thought an unfolding melodrama, indeed, the Trump model cannot work as anything else.  The idea of “politics as theatre” was first discussed in the US in the 1960s but then a phenomenon like Mr Trump would have been thought absurdly improbable.

Because of the popularity of the form, melodrama has rarely found much favor with the critics and that old curmudgeon Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) noted (and, one suspects, not without some satisfaction) that the term generally was “…used with some contempt, because the appeal of such plays as are acknowledged to deserve the title is especially to the unsophisticated & illiterate whose acquaintance with human nature is superficial, but whose admiration for goodness and detestation of wickedness is ready & powerful.”  Henry Fowler moved among only a certain social stratum.  He added that the task of the melodramatist’s was to establish in the audience’s mind the notion of the dichotomous characters as good & wicked and then “…provide striking situations that shall provoke and relieve anxieties on behalf of poetic justice.”  One device once used to produce the desired effect was of course music and a whole academic industry emerged in the mid-twentieth century to explain how different sounds could be used to suggest or summon certain emotions and because music increasingly ceased to be an essential part of the melodramatic form, the situations, dialogue and events in purely textual productions became more exaggerated.

Batwing

Batwing (pronounced bat-wing)

(1) In zoology, the wing of a bat (and, informally, related creatures).

(2) In entomology, several South or Southeast Asian species of tailless dark swallowtail butterflies in the genus Atrophaneura.

(3) An object or design formed or shaped in a way resembling the extended wing of a bat.

(4) In architecture, as “batwing doors”, pairs of swinging doors which typically do not lock nor cover the full vertical range of the doorway (leaving a large gap at the top and bottom), common as entrances to commercial kitchens and in bars.  It was the US industry in the mid-1950s which adopted “batwing doors” to replace “saloon doors” because there was some “middle class resistance” to the association with such establishments; it was a in time which rising prosperity had made mass market interior decorating a thing, hence the re-branding.

(5) In fashion, a garment or part of a garment resembling or conceived of as resembling the wing of a bat, applied usually to a loose, long sleeve (some flaring out, some with a tight wrist and known also as the “magyar sleeve”) but also to hem-lines.

(6) In hairdressing, a variation of the pigtail (in which the tied hair extends from the scalp at close to 90^o before cascading) in which the tied hair extends from the scalp upwards at an acute angle before cascading.  Batwings can be single ties but more typically appear symmetrically to the sides, in emulation of the wings of a bat.

(6) In physical training, an exercise routine or posture on the stomach wherein a dumbbell row or lateral raise is performed.

(7) In slang, an area of flabby fat under a person's arms (known in some places as “tuck shop lady’s arms).

(8) In automotive design, a type of rear fin which extended laterally rather than upwards.

1955–1960: The construct was bat + wing.  Bat (in the sense of the small flying mammal) dates from the late 1570s and is thought to be from a Scandinavian source, possibly the dialectal Swedish natt-batta, a variant of the Old Swedish natt-bakka (night-bat).  It replaced the Middle English bake & bak, from balke & blake, also from a Scandinavian source.  The related Nordic forms included the dialectal Swedish natt-blacka and the Old Icelandic ledhr-blaka (bat), the construct being ledhr (skin, leather) + blaka (flutter) and understood in the vernacular as “leather flapper”, the sense something like the later Old Danish nathbakkæ (literally “night-flapper”).  The earlier use (to describe a club, staff etc) dated from the turn of the thirteenth century and was from the Middle English noun bat, bot & batte, from the Old English batt which may have been from Celtic (the Irish & Scots Gaelic bat & bata meant “staff, cudgel”.  The Middle English verb batten, came partly from the noun, influenced by the Old French batre (batter).  Wing dates from the mid-twelfth century and was from the Middle English plural nouns winge & wenge, from the Old Danish wingæ (the other Nordic forms including the Norwegian & Swedish vinge and the Old Norse vǣngr (wing of a flying animal, wing of a building)).  In the Old Norse, the architectural sense of “a building’s wing” extended to nautical use, a vængi a “ship's cabin”.  The Nordic forms came from the Proto-Germanic wēingijaz, from the primitive Indo-European hweh- (to blow (hence the connection with “flapping” & “wind”).  The cognates included the Danish vinge (wing), the Swedish vinge (wing) and the Icelandic vængur (wing).  In English, “wing” came to replace the Middle English fither, from the Old English fiþre, from the Proto-Germanic fiþriją), which merged with the Middle English fether (from Old English feþer, from Proto-Germanic feþrō).  The spellings bat wing & bat-wing are also used.  Batwing is a noun and adjective, batwinged & batwingish are adjectives; the noun plural is batwings.

Gothic Batwing Sleeved Mermaid Long Dress by Punk Design (left) and Gothic Black A-Line wedding dress with leg Slit, batwing sleeves and bat hem by Wulgaria Couture (right).  Goths like batwings (usually in black with the odd splash of purple), the flowing sleeves often paired with leather or the more accommodating “wet latex look”.  Wulgaria Couture describe the A-Line style as a “wedding dress in gothic black” but it’s available also in a blood red for those non-Goths who like the batwing aesthetic.

Alfa Romeo BAT 5 (1953, left), BAT 7 (1954, centre) and BAT 9 (1955, right), designed by Franco Scaglione (1916–1993).

The Alfa Romeo BAT (Berlina Aerodinamica Tecnica, best translated as “exploration of aerodynamic principles in cars”) concept cars were among the most stylistically adventurous (and aerodynamically successful) of the transatlantic movement in the 1950s which focused on applying the lessons learned from progress in aeronautics during World War II (1939-1945).  The tail fin had been seen as early as the 1920s and their role in enhancing straight-line stability was imported directly from aircraft design but on the road they’d tended to be single, upright structures, best remembered from the use in the pre-war Czechoslovakian Tatras, intriguing things which, configured with a rear-mounted V8 engine, at speed needed a “stabilizing fin” more than most.  However, it was in the 1950s, when such publicity was afforded to jet aircraft, rockets & missiles, that designers took a renewed interest in fins & wings.  In the US, they quickly became extravagances, divorced from any functional relationship to fluid dynamics much beyond the merely coincidental but for Europeans, for whom fuel was more expensive and incomes lower, it was understood aerodynamics alone could improve both a vehicle’s economy and its performance.

Batwings: A grey-headed flying fox.

The performance of the trio was, by contemporary standards, remarkable, all able to attain in excess of 200 km/h (125 mph), despite being powered by a relatively small 1.9 litre (115 cubic inch) engine, albeit one fitted with double overhead camshafts (DOHC).  The wings (the BAT acronym for the cars was opportunistic) were just one part on a design which in all aspects was intended to optimize air-flow and although even at the time there were cars with smaller frontal areas, the BATs gained much of their advantage from the lowering of the front coachwork and the drag coefficient (CD) of the three ranged from 0.19-0.23, impressive even today.  It’s on BAT 7 that the batwing motif is most pronounced, the wings extending as a single structure from the base of the A-pillar, at the rear tilting and sweeping in an arc towards the centre-line.  When the metalworkers in the coach-building house first saw the design, their reaction was something like that of the structural engineers on first viewing the “sails” on the blueprints of Jørn Utzon’s (1918–2008) Sydney Opera House but they rose to the occasion.  The design would never have been suitable for mass-production; the famous fins on the US cars of the era were not only simpler structures but also designed in a way which accommodated the relatively “lose” manufacturing tolerances which permitted them being built quickly and at scale.  Perhaps tellingly, BAT 9 appeared with appendages less batwing-like and more attuned to the way Detroit was doing things.

It's the batwings which made BAT 7 the most memorable of the three and in 2008, Carrozzeria Bertone (builders of the original trio) built the Alfa Romeo BAT 11dk prototype, a conceptual rendering in clay, Styrofoam & filler, designed to use the underpinnings of the Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione.  Commissioned by a former owner of BAT 7, the Global Financial Crisis (GFC) scuttled its appearance at the Geneva Motors Show and certainly any prospect of a small production run or even a one-off creation.

Misty was a weekly British comic magazine for girls which, unusually, was found also to enjoy a significant male readership.  Published UK house Fleetway, it existed only between 1978-1980 although Misty Annual appeared until 1986.  The cover always featured the eponymous, raven haired beauty.  Befitting its theme, bats often featured in the artwork.

Lindsay Lohan in Anger Management (2013) demonstrates the batwing (left), defined by the tied hair extending upwards from the scalp before cascading, as distinct from the “pig tail” (centre) which extends from the scalp at close to 90^o before cascading.  Batwings can be single ties (centred or asymmetric) but more typically appear symmetrically to the sides, in emulation of the wings of a bat.  There are also batwing hair clips (right), also called “batwing hair claws” which is more evocative.

Chevrolet Bel Air: 1957 (left), 1958 (centre) and 1959 (right).

The 1959-1960 Chevrolets quickly picked up the nickname “batwing” and richly it was deserved; there was nothing like them at the time and there’s been nothing since.  The 1959 range actually had a strange and rushed gestation.  The fins on the 1955-1956-1957 cars (the so-called “tri-five Chevies”) had grown upwards in the fashion of the time but the corporation decided something different was needed and for 1958 chose baroque, the embryonic batwings obvious now but it was only when the next year’s model was released they would be understood thus.  The reason the General Motors (GM) 1958 body shape would last only one season was that at time it suffered by comparison with the sleek Chryslers; it was thought frumpy and even bloated and that it was released into that year’s short but sharp recession, didn’t help. The re-design for 1959 had its flaws (many of which (including toning down the batwings) were fixed for 1960) but it could never have been called “frumpy” and the “cats eye” taillights are admired even today.  Still the market didn’t respond as GM would have liked and the batwings soon flew off; by 1963 the Chevrolet was so blandly inoffensive it was being described as “a little bit like every car ever built”.  It proved a great success.

1960 Chevrolet "bubbletop" Impala Sport Coupe (left) and 1963 Ford Consul Capri (right).  On the 1960 Chevrolets, the memorable “cats eye” taillights were replaced by round units, three aside for the top-of-the-line Impala, two for the less expensive Bel Air & Biscayne.

For 1960, Chevrolet made the batwings a little less “batwingish” and the idea travelled across the Atlantic, Ford in the UK applying the scaled-down motif to their Ford Consul Classic (1961-1963) and Consul Capri (1961-1964), the latter a two-door coupé which the company wanted to be thought of as a “co-respondent's car” (ie the sort of rakish design which would appeal to the sort of chap who slept with other men’s wives, later to be named as the “co-respondent” in divorce proceedings).  Whether or not the “batwingettes” played a part isn’t known but neither the Classic nor the Capri were successful.

Farce

Farce (pronounced fahrs)

(1) To stuff; to cram (obsolete).

(2) To make fat; to swell out (obsolete).

(3) To render pompous (obsolete).

(4) In the Roman Catholic Church, an alternative form of farse (to insert vernacular paraphrases into a Latin liturgy).

(5) A light, humorous production (plays, television film etc) play in which the plot depends upon the exploitation of improbable (or even impossible) situations rather than upon the development of character.

(6) The genre of comedy represented by works of this kind

(7) Humor of the type displayed in such works.

(8) Something foolish; a mockery; a ridiculous sham, a ludicrous situation or action.

(9) In cooking, forcemeat (a mixture of finely chopped and seasoned foods, usually containing egg white, meat or fish, etc., used as a stuffing or served alone).

(10) To add witty material to a speech or composition.

1300–1350: From the Middle English noun fars (stuffing), from the Middle French farce, from the Vulgar Latin farsa, noun use of feminine of Latin farsus, from the earlier fartus (stuffed), past participle of the verb farcīre (to stuff) which Middle English picked up as farsen, from the Old French farsir & farcir, from Latin farciō (to cram, stuff).  It was a doublet of farse.  The origin of the Latin farcire (to stuff, cram) is of uncertain origin but some etymologists suggest it may be connected with the primitive Indo-European bhrekw- (to cram together).  Farce in the fourteenth century first meant the chopped-meat stuffing used in cooking and farced into dishes.  The idea of a scene or plotline of “ludicrous satire or low comedy” being interpolated into a play was first described as “a farcing and thus soon ‘a farce’”) in the 1520s, while the dramatic sense of a “ludicrous satire; low comedy” was from the French use of farce (comic interlude in a mystery play) was a sixteenth century development while in English, the generalized sense of “a ridiculous sham” came into use in the 1690s.  In literary use, the companion term is tragicofarcical (having elements of both tragedy and farce).  Farce is a noun & verb, farced & farcing are verbs and and farcical is an adjective; the noun plural is plural farces.  The adjective unfarced (also as un-farced) is used in cooking to distinguished a dish not farced from one farced; it is not used of plays or literature.

The now rare noun infarction first appeared in the medical literature in the 1680s as a noun of action from the Latin infarcire (to stuff into), the construct being in- )in the sense of “into” (from the primitive Indo-European root en- (in) + farcīre (to stuff).  In pathology it was widely used of various morbid local conditions but as technology and techniques improved and more specific descriptions evolved used declined and the early twentieth century it tended to be restricted to certain conditions caused by localized faults in the circulatory system.  The construct of the noun forcemeat (also as force-meat) was force (“to stuff (as a variant of farce)) + meat.  The term first appeared in cookbooks in the late 1670s (although the technique (as “farcing”) dated back centuries; it described “mincemeat, meat chopped fine & seasoned, then used as a stuffing”.

Karl Marx (left) who turned G.W.F. Hegel (right) "upside down on his head".

Nowhere did Karl Marx (1818-1883) ever write “history repeats itself” but the phrase “history repeats itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce” is often attributed to him and has long been an undergraduate favourite.  The origin of that was in the first chapter of his essay Der 18te Brumaire des Louis Napoleon (18th Brumaire of Louis Bonapatre (1852)) in which, writing of Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770–1831) he wrote: “Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice.  He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.”  The “second time as farce” notion seems to have been something picked up from his benefactor & collaborator German philosopher Friedrich Engels (1820–1895) who a few months earlier, in one of his letters to Marx, had observed: “it really seems as though old Hegel, in the guise of the World Spirit, were directing history from the grave and, with the greatest conscientiousness, causing everything to be re-enacted twice over, once as grand tragedy and the second time as rotten farce, Caussidière for Danton, L. Blanc for Robespierre, Barthélemy for Saint-Just, Flocon for Carnot, and the moon-calf together with the first available dozen debt-encumbered lieutenants for the little corporal and his band of marshals. Thus the 18th Brumaire would already be upon us.”

In Zur Kritik der Hegelschen Rechtsphilosophie (Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right (1843), Marx had made a similar point:  “A coup d’état is sanctioned as it were in the opinion of the people if it is repeated.  Thus, Napoleon was defeated twice and twice the Bourbons were driven out.  Through repetition, what at the beginning seemed to be merely accidental and possible, becomes real and established.”  Marx did take a few interpretative liberties with Hegel.  When in Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Weltgeschichte (Lectures on the Philosophy of History (a compilation of lectures delivered at University of Berlin in 1822, 1828 & 1830)), Hegel compared nature where “there is nothing new under the Sun,” with history where there is always development he was describing historical progression in terms of the Hegelian philosophy which holds that history follows the dictates of reason and that the natural progress of history is due to the outworking of absolute spirit.  Still, Marx did boast that to make use of Hegel's dialectic he had to “turn him upside down on his head” so perhaps he felt entitled to kick the dead man’s ideas around a bit.

The farce on stage and in literature

In literary use, the farce is a form of comedy where the purpose is to “provoke mirth of the simplest and most basic kind: roars of laughter rather than smiles; humour rather than wit.  It is associated with, but must be distinguished from, burlesque; it is with clowning, buffoonery and knockabout slapstick, a form of ‘low’ comedy in which the basic elements are: exaggerated physical action (often repeated), exaggeration of character and situation in which absurd, improbable (even impossible ones and therefore fantastical) events and surprises in the form of unexpected appearances and disclosures”.  In farce, character and dialogue are nearly always subservient to plot and situation with plots often complex, events succeeding with a sometimes bewildering rapidity.

Quite when the first farces were performed is not known but historians seem to agree it would certainly have predated anything in the literary tradition.  Elements recognizably “farces” exist in some surviving plays from Antiquity in which “low comedy” in the shape of ridiculous situations and ludicrous results, ribaldry and junketings are interpolated into works of satire and studies of the farce have identified the device in Greek satyr play and the Roman fabak.  Technically though, the first plays actually described as “farces” were French works from the late Middle Ages where there were “stuffings” described as “between scenes”: comic interludes between the “serious” parts in religious or liturgical drama.  Usually, such “stuffings” were written in octosyllabic (containing eight syllables) couplets with an average length of some 500 lines.  These interpolations poked fun at the foibles and vices of everyday life (particularly at commercial knavery and conjugal infidelity, two subjects with enduring audience appeal).

The Taming of the Shrew, Barbican Theatre, June 2019.  For the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company), Justin Audibert (b 1981) re-imagined the England of the 1590s as a matriarchy in which Baptista Minola is seeking to sell off her son Katherine to the highest bidder.

Later, in French theatre, these farcical interludes developed into a form of their own: the “one-act farce”, pieces which were in their time something like to short-form clips which TikTok made a business model.  The contemporary English Mystery Plays also often included one or more comic interludes and interestingly, demonic & grotesque figures behaving in a buffoonish manner (letting off fireworks something of a theme) appeared with much greater frequency than in France.  In the time of the Morality Plays, apart from aberrations like William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) The Taming of the Shrew (1592) & The Comedy of Errors (circa 1593), there was little written for the English stage which could truly be described as farce but by the time the genre of “Restoration comedy” (known sometimes as “Comedy of manners”) had become established in the late seventeenth century, farce was back to celebrate the re-opening of public stage performances, banned for the previous 18 years by the Puritan regime.  For better or worse, farce has been with us ever since.

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

It can be difficult to decided whether “farce”, “fiasco” or “debacle” best applies in particular circumstances.  Indeed, it seems difficult to formulate anything close to a “rule” and every situation will need to be judged on its merits.  However, as a general principle, the pattern of use seems to indicate: (1) Farce is used in a way which hints at the theatrical tradition: real-life situations that are ridiculously chaotic and ludicrous, almost comical in their dysfunction. (2) A fiasco is a total utter failure, usually in a public and humiliating way when things have gone very wrong, typically due to poor planning or execution. (3) A debacle is an ignominious failure and one which often implies a broader, more significant collapse, sometimes with serious consequences.

The farce of excommunication

Presumably the Spanish nuns of The Poor Clares of Belorado chose their words with care when in June 2024 they condemned the Holy See’s action against them as “the farce of excommunication” although whether they were still within the holy communion of the Church to be excommunicated may be a moot point because the sisters insisted they had already severed all connections with the Vatican and their departure from the “Conciliar Church” was “unanimous and irreversible”.  The exchange of views between Rome and Castile-Leon came after the sisters declined to attend the ecclesial tribunal of Burgos to which they had been summoned, their notice of no-attendance transmitted to the Archbishop of Burgos with a hint of rejection of modernity: they used the fax machine.  Informing the archbishop they had left the Conciliar Church “freely, voluntarily, unanimously and in a spirit of joy”, their fax message asserted the ecclesiastical tribunal had “no jurisdiction” over them since their separation the previous month which their said was prompted by the “larceny” of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II; 1962-1965), adding that no pope after Pius XII (1876-1958; pope 1939-1958) was “legitimate”.

Being careful with words, it must be assumed the sisters were thus declaring Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) an “illegitimate pope” rather than an “anti-pope”, a distinction of some significance to canon lawyers.  “Illegitimate pope” is a general term for any pope whose election or claim to the papacy is deemed invalid or improper according to the canonical laws and practices of the Church; such a state can arise from procedural failures or the appointee lacking the requisite qualifications.  An “anti-pope” is one who makes a claim to the papacy in opposition to the pope recognized by the majority of the Catholic Church, a status which is of any consequence only if such a person has a significant following among Catholics.  Typically, anti-popes have existed during periods of schism.

Belorado Convento de Santa María de Bretonera.

Founded in 1358, in 1458 the monastery was damaged during one of the feudal battles which for more than two centuries would from time-to-time briefly flare, the structure repaired two years later.  Built in the Gothic style, there are Baroque style altar-pieces from the seventeenth century and a pipe organ dating from 1799.  The Monastery of Santa Clara is presided over by nuns of the order of the Poor Clares.

So, being critical mass theorists like any good Catholics, the sisters would understand that at the moment, Francis “has the numbers” but they certainly seem to be attempting something schismatic, their 70-page manifesto explaining that henceforth the nuns would follow the spiritual leadership of Pablo de Rojas Sánchez-Franco (b 1982), a self-styled “bishop” and professed admirer of the fascist dictator Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975); De Rojas-Franco was excommunicated in 2019.  Like the sisters, Mr De Rojas-Franco is a sedisvacantist (one who regards all popes after Pius XII to be illegitimate heads of the Church; in this view, the Holy See in Rome is actually sede vacante (vacant throne) and Francis a heretic and usurper to be spoken of only as “Mr Bergoglio”.  One implication of this is that many post 1958 ordinations are also invalid so any penalty or canonical sanction “imposed by those who are not valid or legitimate bishops, and who have no power over souls” are thus null and void”.  In other words, “Mr Bergoglio, you can’t excommunicate us”, hence the description of Rome’s edict as a farce.

Chocolates and biscuits made by nuns of The Poor Clares of Belorado.  Presumably, chocolates made by heretics are more sinful than those made by the faithful.

So the ecclesiastical battle lines have been drawn and the Holy See has clearly decided the chirothecœ (liturgical gloves) are off, the 10 nuns of the order reporting sales of the pastries and chocolate truffles they produce as their only source of income are down, the faithful of the nearby villages clearing having been told by their priests to buy their sweet treats from non-heretics.  According to Rome, the bolshie Poor Clare nuns of Belorado have committed the crime of schism (Canon 751 of the Code of Canon Law states defines schism as “the refusal of submission to the supreme pontiff or of communion with the members of the Church subject to him”, the penalty for which is excommunication).  Since burnings at the stake and such became unfashionable, excommunication is now the most serious penalty a baptized person can incur; it consists of being placed outside the communion of the faithful of the Catholic Church and denied access to the sacraments but it need not be final, the theological purpose of the act being “to bring the guilty to repentance and conversion” and, in a phrase with internal logic which makes complete sense in the corridors of the Vatican: “With the penalty of excommunication the Church is not trying in some way to restrict the extent of mercy but is simply making evident the seriousness of the crime.”

Of course heretics are flesh and blood and as they have declared themselves no longer members of the Catholic Church, by remaining in the monastery they are occupying property of the Church to which they do not belong and may be found to have no legal right to stay there.  Their archbishop has told them they are now trespassing but seems to be taking a patient approach, saying he hopes they will leave of their own volition, avoid the need to assemble a team of black-clad monsignors forcibly to evict them.  The social media savvy Francis would understand that might be “bad optics”.  Still, the archbishop insists the matter will be pursued and that Spanish civil law recognizes the Church’s Code of Canon Law as governing such things, adding “…they were told that they should not be in the monastery and in a steadfast and contumacious way they persist in being there”, concluding ominously “…so the legal authorities will act against them.”

This is not an isolated case and in the last year there have been a number of excommunications of bishops and archbishops, all of whom have denied the legitimacy of Francis, some actually calling him “a heretic”, something almost unknown for centuries.  With the death of Benedict XVI (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022), so died too the last restraining influence on Francis’s reformist tendencies and the tensions which have mostly be suppressed since Vatican II are now bubbling over.  As an amusing spectacle for the neutrals, Church politics: (“You’re a heretic!”, “No, you’re a heretic!”) is something like modern Spanish political discourse: (“You’re a fascist!”, “No, you’re a fascist!”) but how this plays out in what may be the last days of this pontificate is likely much to influence the voting in the College of Cardinals when it comes time to choose the next pope.

As the Vatican takes heresy seriously, so the fashionistas guard haute couture.  The reaction to Lindsay Lohan brief fling as fashion designer for Ungaro, Paris Fashion Week, March 2010.