Suicide

Suicide (pronounced soo-uh-sahyd)

(1) The intentional taking of one's own life.

(2) By analogy, acts or behavior, which whether intentional or not, lead to the self-inflicted destruction of one's own interests or prospects.

(3) In automotive design, a slang term for rear doors hinged from the rear.

(4) In fast food advertising, a niche-market descriptor of high-calorie products deliberately or absurdly high in salt, sugar and fat.

(5) A trick in the game Diabolo where one of the sticks is released and allowed to rotate 360° round the diabolo until it is caught by the hand that released it.

(6) In Queensland (Australia) political history, as suicide squad, the collective name for the additional members of the Legislative Council (upper house) appointed in 1921 solely for the purpose of voting for its abolition.

(7) In sardonic military slang, as suicide mission, a description for an operation expected to suffer a very high casualty rate.

(8) A children's game of throwing a ball against a wall and at other players, who are eliminated by being struck.

(9) Pertaining to a suicide bombing, the companion terms being suicide belt & suicide vest.

(10) In electrical power, as "suicide cable (or cord, lead etc)", a power cord with male connections each end and used to inject power from a generator into a structing wiring system (highly dangerous if incorrectly used).

(11) In drug slang, the depressive period that typically occurs midweek (reputedly mostly on Tuesdays, following weekend drug use.

(12) In US slang, a beverage combining all available flavors at a soda fountain (known also as the "graveyard" or "swamp water".

(13) As "suicide runs" or "suicide sprints", a form of high-intensity sports training consisting of a series of sprints of increasing lengths, each followed immediately by a return to the start, with no pause between one and the next.

1651: From the New Latin  suīcīdium (killing of oneself), from suīcīda and thought probably of English origin, the construct being the Latin suī (genitive singular of reflexive pronunciation of se (one’s self)) from suus (one’s own) + cīdium (the suffix forms cīda & cide) from caedere (to kill).  The primitive European root was s(u)w-o (one's own) from the earlier s(w)e and new coining displaced the native Old English selfcwalu (literally “self-slaughter”).  Suicide is a noun & verb, suicidal is a noun & adjective, suicider is a noun; the noun plural is suicides.  Pedantic scholars of Latin have never approved of the word because, technically, the construct could as well be translated as the killing of a sow but, in medieval times, purity had long deserted Latin and never existed in English.  The modern meaning dates from 1728; the term in the earlier Anglo Latin was the vaguely euphemistic felo-de-se (one guilty concerning himself).  It may be an urban myth but there was a story that a 1920s editor of the New York Times had a rule that anyone who died in a Stutz Bearcat would be granted a NYT obituary unless the death was a suicide.  Suicide is a noun & verb, suicidal is a noun & adjective, suicider, suicidology, suicidalist, suicidality, suicidalness & suicidism are nouns, suicidogenic is an adjective, suicided is a verb & adjective, suiciding is a verb and suicidally is an adverb; the noun plural is suicides.

Suicide Squads

HH Asquith (1852-1928) and his youthful friend Venetia Stanley (1887–1948).

Although few were quite as vituperative as Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996) who once describes the members of the Australian Senate as "unrepresentative swill", governments in the twentieth century often found upper houses to be such a nuisance they schemed and plotted ways to curb their powers or, preferably, do away with them entirely.  As the electoral franchise was extended, governments were sometimes elected with what they considered a mandate to pursue liberal or progressive policies while upper houses, by virtue of their composition and tenure (some with life-time appointments) often acted as an obstruction, rejecting legislation or imposing interminable delays by sending proposed laws to be “discussed to death” in committees from which “nothing ever emerged”.  This was the situation which confronted the glittering Liberal Party cabinet of HH Asquith (1852–1928; UK prime minister 1908-1916) which in 1909 found the Lords, in defiance of long established convention, blocking passage of the budget.  The Lords was wholly unelected, its membership mostly inherited, sometimes by virtue of some service (virtuous or otherwise) by an ancestor hundreds of years before.  Successive elections didn’t resolve the crisis and Asquith resolved to pursue the only lawful mechanism available: the creation of as many peers as would be necessary (in the hundreds) to secure the passage of his legislation.

Terry Richardson's (b 1965) suicide-themed shoot with Lindsay Lohan, 2012.

That of course required royal ascent and the newly enthroned George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936), while making his reservations clear, proved a good constitutional monarch and made it known he would follow the advice of his prime-minister.  As it turned out, the “suicide squad” wasn’t required, their Lordships, while not at all approving of the government, were more appalled still at the thought of their exclusive club being swamped with “jumped-up grocers” in “bad hats” and allowed the legislation to pass.  Actually, “castration squad” might have been a more accurate description because while the Lords survived, Asquith ensured it would be less of an obstacle, substituting the road block of its power of veto with a speed-bump, a right to impose a two-year delay (in 1949 reduced to six months).  The New Labour administration (1997-2010) introduced further reforms which were designed eventually to remove from the Lords all those who held seats by virtue of descent and even the Tories later moved in that direction although the efforts have stalled and a few of the hereditary peers remain.  As things now stand, the last remaining absolute veto the Lords retain is to stop an attempt by a government to extend a parliament's life beyond five years. 

The preserved Legislative Council chamber in Queensland's Parliament House.

Some upper house assassins however truly were a suicide squad.  In Australia, the state of Queensland followed the usual convention whereby the sub-national parliaments were bicameral, the Legislative Council the upper house and like the others, it was a bastion of what might now be called "those representing the interests of the 1%" and a classic example of white privilege.  Actually, at the time, the lower houses were also places of white privilege but the Australian Labor Party (ALP) had long regarded the non-elected Legislative Council (and upper houses in general) as undemocratic and reactionary so in 1915, after securing a majority in the Legislative Assembly (the lower house) which permitted the party to form government, they sought abolition.  The Legislative Council predictably rejected the bills passed by the government in 1915 & 1916 and a referendum conducted in 1917 decisively was lost; undeterred, in 1920, the government requested the governor appoint sufficient additional ALP members to the chamber to provide an abolitionist majority.  In this, the ALP followed the example of the Liberal Party in the UK which in 1911 prevailed upon the king to appoint as many new peers as might be needed for their legislation to pass unimpeded through an otherwise unsympathetic House of Lords.  That wasn’t needed as things transpired but in Queensland, the new members of the Legislative Council duly took their places and on 26 October 1921, the upper house voted in favor of abolition, the new appointees known forever as "the suicide squad".  Despite the success, the trend didn't spread and the Commonwealth parliament and those of the other five states remain bicameral although the two recent creations, established when limited self-government was granted to the Northern Territory (NT) and Australian Capital Territory (ACT), both had unicameral assemblies.

Margot Robbie (b 1990) in costume as Harley Quinn (a comic book character created by DC Comics), Suicide Squad (2016).

Across the Tasman Sea (which locals call "the ditch"), the New Zealand upper house lasted another three decades but it’s eventual demise came about not because of conflict but because the institution was increasing viewed as comatose, rejecting nothing, contributing little and rarely inclined even to criticize.  Unlike in England and Queensland, in New Zealand the abolition movement enjoyed cross-party support, left and right (although the latter in those days were pretty leftist), united in their bored disdain.  One practical impediment was the New Zealand parliament couldn’t amend the country’s constitution because no government had ever bothered to adopt the Statute of Westminster (1931) by which the Imperial Parliament had granted effective independence to the Dominions but in 1947 this was done.  Despite that, the Labour Party didn’t act and after prevailing in the 1950 general election, it was a National Party administration which passed the Legislative Council Abolition Act, its passage assured after a twenty-member “suicide squad” was appointed and the upper house’s meeting of 1 December 1950 proved its last.  Opposition from within the chamber had actually been muted, presumably because to sweeten the deal, the government used some of the money saved to pay some generous “retirement benefits” for the displaced politicians.  New Zealand since has continued as a unitary state with a unicameral legislature.

Pineapples.

In the Far East (the practice documented in Japan, the PRC (People's Republic of China) and the renegade province of Taiwan), fruit sellers offer pineapples for sale of the basis of “Murder” (谋杀 and variants) or “Suicide” (自殺する and variants).  Ominous as it sounds, it's just commercial shorthand.  Pineapples being more difficult to handle than many fruits, fruit shops offer the “murder” service in which staff will (for a small fee) peel and chop as required.  Those prepared to do their own preparation at home can take the “suicide” option and (at a lesser cost) purchase the whole fruit, skin and all.  There are many reasons to eat pineapple.

Suicide doors

1928 Mercedes-Benz Nürburg (W08) with four rear-hinged doors.

It wasn’t until the 1950s the practice of hinging doors from the front became (almost) standardized.  Prior to that, they’d opened from the front or rear, some vehicles featuring both.  The rear-hinged doors became known as suicide doors because they were genuinely dangerous (in the pre-seat belt era), the physics of them opening while the car was at speed had the effect of dragging the passenger into the airstream.  Additionally, it was said they were more likely to injure people if struck by passing vehicles while being opened although the consequences of being struck by a car sound severe whatever the circumstances.

2021 Rolls-Royce Phantom VIII Tempus.

Still used in the 1960s by Lincoln, Ford and Rolls-Royce, they were phased out as post-Nader safety regulations began to be applied to automotive design and were thought extinct when the four door Ford Thunderbirds ceased production in 1971.  However, after being seen in a few design exercises over the decades, Rolls-Royce included them on the Phantom VII, introduced in 2003, the feature carried over to the Phantom VIII in 2017.  Like other manufacturers, Rolls-Royce has no fondness for the term suicide doors, preferring to call them coach doors; nomenclature from other marketing departments including flex doors and freestyle doors.  Engineers are less impressed by silly words, noting the correct term is rear-hinged and these days, mechanisms are included to ensure they can be opened only when the vehicle is at rest.  Encouraged by the reaction, Rolls-Royce brought back the rear-hinged door for their fixed (FHC) and drop-head (DHC) coupés although, despite the retro-touch, the factory seems now content usually to call them simply coupés and convertibles.  

1971 Ford Thunderbird Landau.

In a nod to a shifting market, when the fifth generation Thunderbird was introduced in 1967, the four-door replaced the convertible which had been a staple of the line since 1955.  Probably the only car ever visually improved by a vinyl roof, the four-door was unique to the 1967-1971 generation, its replacement offered only as a coupé.  The decision effectively to reposition the model was taken to avoid a conflict with the new Mercury Cougar, the Thunderbird moving to the "personal coupé" segment which would become so popular.  So popular in fact that within a short time Ford would find space both for the Thunderbird and the Continental Mark III, changing tastes by the 1970s meaning the Cougar would also be positioned there along with a lower-priced Thunderbird derivative, the Elite.  Such was the demand for the personal coupé that one manufacturer successfully could support four models in the space, sometimes with over-lapping price-points depending on the options.  The four-door Thunderbirds are unique in being the only car ever built where the appearance was improved by the presence of a vinyl roof, the unusual semi-integration of the rear door with the C pillar necessitating something be done to try to conceal the ungainliness, the fake "landau irons" part of the illusion.

1967 Lincoln Continental convertible.  The later cars with the longer wheelbase are popular as wedding cars because the suicide doors can make ingress & egress more elegant for brides with big dresses although those with big hair often veto the lowering of the roof until after the photos have been taken.

The combination of the suicide door, the four-door coachwork and perhaps even the association with the death of President Kennedy has long made the convertible a magnet for collectors but among American cars of the era, it is different in that although the drive-train is typical of the simple, robust engineering then used, it's packed also with what can be an intimidating array of electrical and hydraulic systems which require both expertise and equipment properly to maintain.  That need has kept a handful of specialists in business for decades, often rectifying the mistakes of others.  It was unique; after the last of the even rarer Mercedes-Benz 300d Cabriolet Ds left the line in 1962, Lincoln alone offered anything in the once well-populated niche.

LBJ's 1964 Lincoln Continental convertible.

The four-door convertible's most famous owner was Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969) who would use it to drive visitors around his Texas ranch (often with opened can of Pearl beer in hand according to LBJ folklore).  While never a big seller (21,347 made over seven years and it achieved fewer than 4,000 sales even in its best year), it was the most publicized of the line and to this day remains a staple in film & television productions needing verisimilitude of the era.  The convertible was discontinued after 1967 when 2276 were built, the two-door hardtop introduced the year before out-selling it five to one.  The market had spoken; it would be the last convertible Lincoln ever produced and it's now a collectable, LBJ's 1964 model in 2024 selling at auction for US$200,000 and fully restored examples without a celebrity connection regularly trade at well into five figures, illustrating the magic of the coach-work.

A mother watching her daughter enter her 1963 Lincoln Continental, the door held open by the girl's brother.  These are two of the family's 2.66 (1964 average) children.

Ford's advertising agency rose to the occasion when producing copy for the four-door convertible.  They certainly had scope because it was unique so many superlatives and adjectives which usually were little more than "mere puffery" would in this case have been literally true.  It was though a case of making "a silk purse from a sow's ear" because Lincoln adopted the suicide doors only because the car's wheelbase was too short for conventionally (forward) hinged doors to provide a sufficiently wide gap for entry and exit.  While that may sound a strange thing to plague a new design, the 1961 Continental was built on the platform of a proposed Ford Thunderbird which would have been available only with a two-door body and despite what the advertising copy suggests, even with the use of suicide doors, access to the rear compartment was tight, something not rectified until the wheelbase (123 inches (3,124 mm) for 1961-1963 & 126 inches (3,200 mm) for 1964-1969) was extended.     

Lincoln Continental concepts, Los Angeles Motor Show, 2002 (left) and New York Motors Show 2015 (right).

The Lincoln Continental for decades remained successful after the "great des-sizing" began in 1979 and despite the perceptions of some, the generation which was least-well received was that (1982-1987) based on Ford's smaller "Fox" platform, sales rebounding when the larger eighth generation (1988-1994) made it debut and that was despite the switch to FWD (front-wheel-drive) and the lack of a V8; clearing for Lincoln buyers it was size which mattered rather than the details of what lay beneath and presumably many neither knew, could tell or cared it was FWD.  Interest by the late 1990s was however dwindling and the nameplate suffered a fourteen year hiatus between 2002-2016.  Unfortunately, the resuscitation (without suicide doors) used as its inspiration the concept car displayed at the 2015 New York International Auto Show rather than the one so admired at Los Angeles in 2002.  The LA concept might not have been original but was an elegant and accomplished design, unlike what was offered in NYC fifteen years later: a dreary mash-up which looked something like a big Hyundai or a Chinese knock-off of a Maybach.  The public response was muted.

2019 Lincoln Continental Eightieth Anniversary Edition.

The tenth generation (2017-2020) managed what were by historic standards modest sales but by 2019, it seemed clear the thing was on death-watch but Lincoln surprised the industry with a batch of eighty LWB (long wheelbase) models with suicide doors to mark the eightieth anniversary of the Continental’s introduction in 1939.  Although there were those who suggested the relatively cheap process of a stretch and a re-hinge of the back-doors was a cynical way to turn a US$72K car into one costing US$102K and was likely aimed at the Chinese market where a higher price tag and more shiny stuff is thought synonymous with good taste, the anniversary models were sold only in the home market. Although even at the high price there was enough demand to induce ford to do a run of another 150 (non-commemorative) suicide door versions for 2020, the retro gesture proved not enough to save the breed and it was announced production would end on 30 October 2020 with no replacement listed.  Not only was the announcement expected but so was the reaction; the market having long lost interest in the uninspiring twenty-first century Continentals, few expressed regret.  The name-plate however, one of the most storied in the Ford cupboard, will doubtless one day return.  What it will look like is unpredictable but few expect it will match the elegance of what was done in the 1960s.

Haile Selassie I (1892-1975; Emperor of Ethiopia 1930-1974) being received by a ceremonial guard after alighting from the 1966 Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre (DM4) Limousine of the Governor-General of Jamaica, 21 April 1966 (left) and Vanden Plas Princess with suicide doors open (right).

Emperor Haile Selassie’s 1966 state visit to Jamaica and the Caribbean has since been celebrated by Rastafari as “Grounation Day”, the term based on the emperor declining to walk on the red carpet provided in accordance with protocol because he wished to “make contact with the soil”.  Among many of the Rastafari (a movement which emerged in the 1930s, taking its name from Ras (the emperor’s pre-imperial name Ras) Haile Selassie was worshipped as God incarnate, the messiah who deliver the peoples of Africa and the African diaspora to freedom.  The limousine had been delivered to the island some six weeks earlier for the use of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022) during her royal tour after which, she returned to London and the car was re-allocated to Government House as the viceroy’s official vehicle.  While it looked like something left over from the pre-war years, for its intended purpose it was ideal, the rear compartment capacious, luxuriously trimmed and tall, making it suitable for those wearing even the highest plumed hats.  Into this welcoming space, occupants stepped through suicide doors which offered unparalleled ease of entry and departure.

1965 Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre (DM4) Limousine Landaulette (left) and 1940s advertisement for Dickson automatic rear door-locks.

Based on a car which was even upon its debut in 1952 was rather old fashioned, by 1968 when production finally ended, the Vanden Plas Princess was, stylistically and technically, a true relic and it’s remarkable that complete with a split windscreen, it was a contemporary of machines like the Lincoln Continental, Jaguar XJ6 and NSU Ro80.  It was very much a case it being better to be inside a DM4 looking (and for some, waving) out than on the outside looking in.  What must seem even more remarkable was that despite picking up a nickname like “suicide doors”, governments for decades did nothing to compel manufacturers to fit the small, cheap mechanisms (available on the aftermarket for US$3.95 a pair) which would prevent the doors opening while the car was in motion.  These potentially life-saving devices were not expensive and if installed in bulk on production lines, the unit cost would not much have exceeded US$1.00.  It was another world and not until the 1960s did the rising death toll compel legislatures to take seriously the matter of automotive safety.

When used by the wedding and hire car industries, some operators took advantage of many of the English limousines from the 1950s & 1960s being fitted with version of the GM (General Motors) Hydramatic automatic transmission, installing in each centre-post a dead-bolt activated by an electrical solenoid, the system triggered by “on” by the shift lever being in drive (locking the rear doors) and “off” by moving the lever to neutral (withdrawing the bolt).  Vanden Plas did at least on some models include on the dashboard a pair of red lights which brightly would glow if the corresponding left or right door was not completely closed.  The much more expensive Rolls-Royce limousines had no such “safety lights”; passengers in those were on their own.  It was not a theoretical problem because there were many documented cases of passengers, especially those sitting (without seat belts) in the jump-seats leaning against the doors, sometimes pressing down the handle, cause the door to open.

1960 Facel Vega Excellence EX1

If compatible (which seems improbable given the novelty of this French approach to door-latch design), the Dickson locks would have been a worthwhile addition for the Facel Vega Excellence (1956-1964) which, in a triumph of fashion over function, had no central pillar at all, the suicide doors secured only by a locking mechanism in the door sill, something which worked well in static testing but on the road, lateral stresses induced during cornering meant the doors were apt to “fly open”.  The completely pillarless look did however look good so there was that.  Powered by a variety of Chrysler V8s, the "big" Facel Vegas (1954-1964 and mostly coupés, 156 sedans & a handful of cabriolets) were France's finest cars of the post-war years but the decision to produce a smaller range doomed the company.  The idea was sound and the market existed but the French-made four-cylinder engine proved chronically (and insolubly) unreliable and by the time a version powered by a robust Volvo unit was ready, warranty claims and the costs of the re-engineering had driven Facel Vega bankrupt.

Lure of the tragic

Evelyn McHale: "The most beautiful suicide".

Predictably, it’s the suicides of celebrities (however defined) which attract most interest but there’s a fascination also with those by young women and that’s understandable because of the lure of youthful beauty and tragedy.  The photograph remembered as “the most beautiful suicide” was taken by photography student Robert Wiles (1909-1991), some four minutes after the victim's death.  Evelyn Francis McHale (1923–1947) was a bookkeeper who threw herself to her death from the 86th-floor observation deck of New York's Empire State Building, landing on a Cadillac limousine attached to the General Assembly of the United Nations (UN) which was parked on 34th street, some 200 feet (60 m) west of Fifth Ave.  The police would later find he last note which read: “I don’t want anyone in or out of my family to see any part of me. Could you destroy my body by cremation?  I beg of you and my family – don’t have any service for me or remembrance for me.  My fiance asked me to marry him in June.  I don’t think I would make a good wife for anybody. He is much better off without me.  Tell my father, I have too many of my mother’s tendencies.”  It was reported her mother suffered from “an undiagnosed and untreated depression”.

Mary Miller and the "Genesee Hotel Suicide".  Earlier postcard of the Genesse Hotel with eighth floor ledge indicated by yellow arrow (left) and Mr Sorgi's photograph (centre) of the suicide's aftermath (right).

In many parts of the world, it’s now unusual if someone is not carrying a device able instantly to capture HD (high-definition) images & video footage but until relatively recently, cameras rarely were taken from the home unless to use them at set piece events such as vacations or parties.  Not only are people now able to record what they see but within seconds, images and clips can be transmitted just about anywhere in the world, some “going viral”.  This proliferation of content has had many implications, one noted phenomenon it seeming now more likely someone will film another at imminent risk of death or injury than offer to assist; psychiatrists, sociologists and such have offered views on that but the behaviour, at least in some cases might be better explained by lawyers and economists.

In 1942 it was mostly professional photographers who routinely would have to hand a camera and the devices were not then like the instantly available “point & shoot” technology of the digital age, the process then a cocktail of loading physical film-stock, assessing the light, adjusting the aperture and maybe even swapping lens.  The photograph (the lens wide-open and the shutter was set to a 1000th of a second), of Mary Millar (1907-1942), mid-flight in her leap to death from an eighth-floor ledge of the Genesee Hotel in Buffalo, New York was a thing most unusual: an anyway rare event happening when someone stood ready to take the picture.  When published, the photograph was captioned “Suicide” or “The Genesee Hotel Suicide” but the popular press couldn’t resist embellishment, one using the title “The Despondent Divorcee” which was in the tabloid tradition of “making stuff up”; Ms Millar had never been married and not in a relationship.  She left no suicide note.

Ignatius Russell Sorgi (1912-1995) was a staff photographer on Buffalo’s Courier Express who on 7 May, 1942 happened to take a different route back to the office when he saw a police car speeding down the road, sirens blaring.  Accordingly, in the “ambulance chasing” tradition, he followed, not knowing what he’d see but knew it might be news-worthy and gain him a front-page credit: “I snatched my camera from the car and took two quick shots as she seemed to hesitate…As quickly as possible I shoved the exposed film into the case and reached for a fresh holder.  I no sooner had pulled the slide out and got set for another shot than she waved to the crowd below and pushed herself into space.  Screams and shouts burst from the horrified onlookers as her body plummeted toward the street.  I took a firm grip on myself, waited until the woman passed the second or third story, and then shot.”

Carnival

Carnival (pronounced kahr-nuh-vuhl)

(1) A traveling amusement show, having sideshows, rides etc.

(2) Any merrymaking, revelry, or festival, as a program of sports or entertainment.

(3) In the Christian ecclesiastical calendar, the season immediately preceding Lent, often observed with merrymaking; Shrovetide.

(4) A festive occasion or period marked by merrymaking, processions etc and historically much associated with Roman Catholic countries in the period just before Lent.

(5) A sports meeting.

(6) In literary theory (as the noun carnivalization & verb carnivalize), to subvert (orthodox assumptions or literary styles) through humour and chaos.

(7) In sociology, a context in which transgression or inversion of the social order is given temporary license (an extension of the use in literary theory).

(8) Figuratively, a gaudily chaotic situation.

(9) As a modifier (often as “carnival atmosphere?”) a festive atmosphere.

1540–1550: From the Middle French carnaval, from the Italian carnevale, from the Old Italian carnelevare (taking meat away), from older Italian forms such as the Milanese carnelevale or Old Pisan carnelevare (to remove meat (literally “raising flesh”)) the construct built from the Latin caro (flesh (originally “a piece of flesh”)) from the primitive Indo-European root sker- (to cut) + levare (lighten, raise, remove), from the primitive Indo-European root legwh- (not heavy, having little weight).  Etymologists are divided on the original source of the term used by the Church, the alternatives being (1) carnem levare (to put away flesh), (2) carnem levāmen (meat dismissal), (3) carnuālia (meat-based country feast) and (4) carrus nāvālis (boat wagon; float).  What all agree upon is the ecclesiastical use would have come from one of the forms related to “meat” and the folk etymology favors the Medieval Latin carne vale (flesh, farewell!).  Spreading from the use in Christian feast days, by at least the 1590s it was used in the sense of “feasting or revelry in general” while the meaning “a circus or amusement fair” appears to be a 1920s adoption in US English.  The synonyms can include festival, celebration, festivity, fiesta, jubilee, gala, fete, fête, fest, fair, funfair, exhibit, exhibition, revelry, merriment, rejoicing, jamboree, merrymaking, mardi gras, jollity, revel, jollification, exposition and show.  Which is chosen will be dependent on region, context, history etc and (other than in ecclesiastical use) rules mostly don’t exist but there seem to be a convention that a “sporting carnival” is a less formal event (ie non-championship or lower level competitions).  The alternative spelling carnaval is obsolete.  Carnival & carnivalization are nouns, carnivalize, carnivalizing & carnivalized are verbs, and carnivalic, carnivalistic, carnivalesque, carnivallike, precarnival & noncarnival are adjectives; the noun plural is carnivals.

Not just meat: Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) on fasting for Lent.

Originally, a carnival was a feast observed by Christians before the Lenten fast began and wasn’t a prelude to a sort of proto-veganism.  It was a part of one of religion’s many dietary rules, one which required Christians to abstain from meat during Lent (particularly on Fridays and during certain fast days), carnival the last occasion on which meat was permissible before Easter.  The Christian practice of abstaining from meat evolved as part of a broader theology of penance, self-denial, and imitation of Christ’s suffering, the rationale combining biblical precedent, symbolic associations and early ascetic traditions, the core of the concept Christ’s 40 days of fasting in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1–11, Luke 4:1–13).  Theologically, the argument was that for one’s eternal soul to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, a price to be paid was Imitatio Christi (earthly participation in Christ’s suffering).  Much the early church valued suffering (for the congregants if not the clergy and nobility) and the notion remains an essential theme in some Christian traditions which can be summed up in the helpful advice: “For everything you do, there’s a price to be paid.”

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) in 2016 on his private jet, fasting for Lent.

By voluntarily abstaining from certain foods, Christians imitated Christ’s self-denial and prepared spiritually for Easter: sharing in His suffering to grow in holiness.  Meat was seen a symbol of feasting and indulgence, an inheritance from Antiquity when “flesh of the beasts of the field” was associated with celebration rather than everyday subsistence, the latter something sustained typically by seafood, fruits and grains so voluntarily (albeit at the behest of the Church) choosing temporarily to renounce meat symbolized forgoing luxury and bodily pleasure, cultivating humility and penitence.  As well as the theological, there was also a quasi-medical aspect to what Tertullian (Quintus Septimius Florens Tertullianus, circa 155–circa 220) commended as “forsaking worldly indulgence” in that fasting took one’s thoughts away from earthly delights, allowing a focus on “prayer and spiritual discipline”, strengthening the soul against “sinful temptations”.  Another layer was added by the Patristics (from the Latin pater (father)), a school of thought which explored the writings and teachings of the early Church Fathers.  Although it was never a universal view in Patrology, there were those who saw in the eating of meat a connection to animal sacrifice and blood, forbidden in the Old Testament’s dietary laws and later spiritualized in Christianity, thus the idea of abstinence as a distancing from violence and sensuality.  Finally, there was the special significance of Fridays, which, as "Good Friday" reflected the remembrance of the crucifixion of Christ and his death at Calvary (Golgotha); the early Christians treated every Friday as a mini-fast and later this would be institutionalized as Lent.

Lindsay Lohan arriving at the Electric Daisy Carnival (left) and detail of the accessory worn on her right thigh (right), Memorial Coliseum, Los Angeles, June 2010.  The knee-high boots were not only stylish but also served to conceal the court-mandated SCRAM (Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor) bracelet.

The allowance of fish during Lent had both pragmatic and theological origins, its place in the Christian diet a brew of symbolism, biblical precedent and cultural context.  As a legal and linguistic point, in the Greco-Roman scheme of things fish was not thought “flesh meat” which was understood as coming from warm-blooded land animals and birds.  Fish, cold-blooded and aquatic, obviously were different and belonged to a separate category, one which Christianity inherited and an implication of the distinction was seafood being viewed as “everyday food” rather than an indulgent luxury.  This was a thing also of economics (and thus social class), the eating of fish much associated with the poorer coastal dwellers whereas meat was more often seen on urban tables.  Notably, there was also in this a technological imperative: in the pre-refrigeration age, in hot climates, often it wasn’t possible safely to transport seafood inland.  The Biblical symbolism included Christ feeding the multitudes with a few “loaves and fishes” (Matthew 14:13–21), several of the apostles were fishermen who Christ called upon to be “fishers of men” (Mark 1:16–18) and the ichthys (fish symbol) was adopted as early Christian emblem for Christ Himself.  Collectively, this made fish an acceptably modest food for a penitential season.  All that might have been thought justification enough but, typically, Medieval scholars couldn’t resist a bit of gloss and the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) decided abstinence aimed to “curb the concupiscence of the flesh” and, because meat generated more “bodily heat” and pleasure than fish, it was forbidden while fish was not.  That wasn’t wholly speculative and reflected the humoral theory from Antiquity, still an orthodoxy during the Middle Ages: fish seen as lighter, cooler, and less sensual.

Notting Hill Carnival, London.

Traditionally, there was also a Lenten prohibition of dairy products and eggs, each proscription with its own historical and symbolic logic and the basis of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day) and Easter eggs (though not the definitely un-Christian Easter bunny).  The strictness derived partly from Jewish precedents notably the vegetarian edict in Daniel 10:2–3 and the idea of a “return to Edenic simplicity” where man would eat only plants (Genesis 1:29) but also an aversion to links with sexuality and fertility, eggs obviously connected with sexual reproduction and dairy with lactation.  What this meant was early Christian asceticism sought to curb bodily impulses and anything connected with fleshly generation and (even if indirectly), thoughts of sex.

Historically, a time of absolution when confessions were made in preparation for Lent, Shrovetide described the three days immediately preceding Lent (Shrove Sunday, Shrove Monday & Shrove Tuesday, preceding Ash Wednesday).  The construct being shrove +‎ -tide, the word was from the late Middle English shroftyde.  Shrove was the simple past of shrive, from the Middle English shryven, shriven & schrifen, from the Old English sċrīfan (to decree, pass judgement, prescribe; (of a priest) to prescribe penance or absolution), from the Proto-West Germanic skrīban, from the late Proto-Germanic skrībaną, a borrowing from the Latin scrībō (write).  The word may be compared with the West Frisian skriuwe (to write), the Low German schrieven (to write), the Dutch schrijven (to write), the German schreiben (to write), the Danish skrive (to write), the Swedish skriva (to write) and the Icelandic skrifa (to write).  The –tide suffix was from the Middle English –tide & -tyde, from the Old English -tīd (in compounds), from tīd (point or portion of time, due time, period, season; feast-day, canonical hour).  Before refrigeration, eggs and dairy naturally accumulated during springtime as hens resumed laying and animals produced more milk.  Being banned during Lent, stocks thus had to be consumed lest they be wasted so a pragmatic way to ensure economy of use was the pancake (made with butter, milk & eggs), served on the feast of Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day).  Following Easter, when eggs returned to the acceptable list, “Easter eggs” were a natural festive marker of the fast’s end.

Carnival Adventure and Carnival Encounter off Australia’s eastern Queensland coast.

Although dubbed “floating Petri dishes” because of the high number of food poisoning & norovirus cases, cruise ships remain popular, largely because, on the basis of cost-breakdown, they offer value-for-money packages few land-based operators can match.  The infections are so numerous because (1) there are thousands of passengers & crew in a closed, crowded environment, (2) an extensive use of buffets and high-volume food service, (3) a frequent turnover of crew & passengers, (4) port visits to places with inconsistent sanitation, health & food safety standards and (5) sometimes delayed reporting and patient isolation.

However, although the popular conception of Medieval Western Christendom is of a dictatorial, priest-ridden culture, the Church was a political structure and it needed to be cognizant of practicalities and public opinion.  Even dictatorships can maintain their authority only with public consent (or at least acquiescence) and in many places the Church recognized burdensome rules could be counter-productive, onerous dietary restrictions resented especially by the majority engaged for their living in hard, manual labor.  Dispensations (formal exceptions) became common with bishops routinely relaxing the rules for the ill, those pregnant or nursing or workers performing physically demanding tasks.  As is a common pattern when rules selectively are eased, a more permissive environment was by the late Middle Ages fairly generalized (other than for those who chose to live by to monastic standards).

Carnival goers enjoying the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras: This is not what Medieval bishops would have associated with the word “carnival” but few events better capture the spirit of the phrase “carnival atmosphere”.

The growth of dispensations (especially in the form of “indulgences” which were a trigger for the Protestant Reformation) was such it occurred to the bishops they’d created a commodity and commodities can be sold.  This happened throughout Europe but, in France and Germany, the “system” became institutionalized, the faithful even able to pay “butter money” for the privilege of eating the stuff over Lent (a kind of inverted “fat tax”!) with the proceeds devoted to that favourite capital works programme of bishops & cardinals: big buildings.  The sixteenth century tower on Normandy’s Rouen Cathedral was nicknamed “Butter Tower” although the funds collected from the “tax” covered only part of the cost; apparently even the French didn’t eat enough butter.  As things turned out, rising prosperity and the population drifts towards towns and cities meant consumption of meat and other animal products increased, making restrictions harder to enforce and the Protestant reformers anyway rejected mandatory fasting rules, damning them as man-made (“Popery!” the most offensive way they could think to express that idea) rather than divine law.  Seeing the writing nailed to the door, one of the results of the Council of Trent (1545–1563) was that while the Church reaffirmed fasting, eggs and dairy mostly were allowed and the ban on meat was restricted to Fridays and certain fast days in the ecclesiastical calendar.

Archbishop Daniel Mannix in his library at Raheen, the Roman Catholic's Church's Episcopal Palace in Melbourne, 1917-1981.

By the twentieth century, it was clear the Holy See was fighting a losing battle and in February 1966, Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) promulgated Apostolic Constitution Paenitemini (best translated as “to be penitent”) making abstinence from meat on Fridays optional outside Lent and retained only Ash Wednesday and Good Friday as obligatory fast days for Catholics.  It was a retreat very much in the corrosive spirit of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965) and an indication the Church was descending to a kind of “mix & match” operation, people able to choose the bits they liked, discarding or ignoring anything tiresome or too onerous.  In truth, plenty of priests had been known on Fridays to sprinkle a few drops of holy water on their steak and declare “In the name of our Lord, you are now fish”.  That was fine for priests but for the faithful, dispensation was often the “luck of clerical draw”.  At a time in the late 1940s when there was a shortage of good quality fish in south-east Australia, Sir Norman Gilroy (1896–1977; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Sydney 1940-1971, appointed cardinal 1946) granted dispensation but the stern Dr Daniel Mannix (1864–1963; Roman Catholic Archbishop of Melbourne 1917-1963) refused so when two politicians from New South Wales (Ben Chifley (1885–1951; prime minister of Australia 1945-1949) and Fred Daly (1912–1995)) arrived in the parliamentary dining room for dinner, Chifley’s order was: “steaks for me and Daly, fish for the Mannix men.”

In the broad, a carnival was an occasion, event or season of revels, merrymaking, feasting and entertainments (the Spanish fiestas a classic example) although they could assume a political dimension, some carnivals staged to be symbolic of the disruption and subversion of authority.  The idea was a “turning upside down of the established hierarchical order” and names used included “the Feast of Fools”, “the Abbot of Misrule” and “the Boy Bishop”.  With a nod to this tradition, in literary theory, the concept of “carnivalization” was introduced by the Russian philosopher & literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin (1895–1975), the word appearing first in the chapter From the Prehistory of Novelistic Discourse (written in 1940) which appeared in his book The Dialogic Imagination: chronotope and heteroglossia (1975).  What carnivalization described was the penetration or incorporation of carnival into everyday life and its “shaping” effect on language and literature.

The Socratic dialogues (most associated with the writing of the Greek philosophers Xenophon (circa 430–355 BC) and Plato (circa 427-348 BC)) are regarded as early examples of a kind of carnivalization in that what appeared to be orthodox “logic” was “stood on its head” and shown to be illogical although Menippean satire (named after the third-century-BC Greek Cynic Menippus) is in the extent of its irreverence closer to the modern understanding which finds expression in personal satire, burlesque and parody.  Bakhtin’s theory suggested the element of carnival in literature is subversive in that it seeks to disrupts authority and introduce alternatives: a deliberate affront to the canonical thoughts of Renaissance culture.  In modern literary use the usual term is “carnivalesque”, referring to that which seeks to subvert (“liberate” sometimes the preferred word) assumptions or orthodoxies by the use of humor or some chaotic element.  This can be on a grand scale (ie an entire cultural movement) or as localized some malcontent disrupting their book club (usually polite affairs where novels are read and ladies sit around talking about their feelings).

Portrait of Leo Tolstoy (1887), oil on canvas by Ilya Repin (1844-1930), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

He expanded on the theme in his book Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics (1929) by contrasting the novels of Leo Tolstoy (1828-1910) and Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821–1881).  Tolstoy’s fiction he classified as a type of “monologic” in which all is subject to the author's controlling purpose and hand, whereas for Dostoevsky the text is “dialogic” or “polyphonic” with an array of different characters expressing a variety of independent views (not “controlled” the author) in order to represent the author's viewpoint.  Thus deconstructed, Bakhtin defined these views as “not only objects of the author's word, but subjects of their own directly significant word as well” and thus vested with their own dynamic, being a liberating influence which, as it were, “conceptualizes” reality, lending freedom to the individual character and subverting the type of “monologic” discourse characteristic of many nineteenth century authors (typified by Tolstoy).

Portrait of Fedor Dostoyevsky (1872), oil on canvas by Vasily Perov (1834-1882), Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia.

Dostoevsky’s story Bobok (1873) is cited as an exemplar of carnival.  It has characters with unusual freedom to speak because, being dead, they’re wholly disencumbered of natural laws, able to say what they wish and speak truth for fun.  However, Bakhtin did acknowledge this still is literature and didn’t claim a text could be an abstraction uncontrolled by the author (although such things certainly could be emulated): Dostoevsky (his hero) remained in control of his material because the author is the directing agent.  So, given subversion, literary and otherwise, clearly has a history dating back doubtlessly as many millennia as required to find an orthodoxy to subvert, why was the concept of carnivalization deemed a necessary addition to literary theory?  It went to the form of things, carnivalization able especially to subvert because it tended to be presented in ways less obviously threatening than might be typical of polemics or actual violence.