Accidie

Accidie (pronounced ak-si-dee)

Sloth; apathy, in the sense of both (1) a general listlessness and apathy and (2) spiritual torpor.

1200–1250: From the Middle English accidie, from the Anglo-Norman accidie, from the Old French accide & accidie, from the Medieval Latin accidia (an alteration of Late Latin acedia (sloth, torpor), from the Ancient Greek ἀκήδεια (akḗdeia) (indifference), the construct being ἀ- (a-) (in the sense of “not”) +‎ κῆδος (kêdos).  It was a doublet of acedia, still cited as an alternative form and replaced the Middle English accide.  The word was in active use between the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries and was revived in the nineteenth as a literary adornment.  Accidie and acediast are nouns and acedious is an adjective; the noun plural is acediasts.

The alternative literary words include (1) ennui (a gripping listlessness or melancholia caused by boredom; depression), an unadapted borrowing from the French ennui, from the Old French enui (annoyance), from enuier (which in Modern French persists as ennuyer), from the Late Latin inodiō, from the Latin in odiō (hated) and a doublet of annoy, (2) weltschmerz, used as an alternative letter-case form of the German Weltschmerz (an apathetic or pessimistic view of life; depression concerning or discomfort with the human condition or state of the world; world-weariness), the construct being Welt (world) + Schmerz (physical ache, pain; emotional pain, heartache, sorrow) and coined by German Romantic writer Jean Paul (1763–1825) for his novel Selina (published posthumously in 1827) and (3) mal du siècle (apathy and world-weariness, involving pessimism towards the current state of the world, often along with nostalgia for the past (originally in the context of French Romanticism) (literally “disease of the century”) and coined by the French writer Alfred de Musset in his autobiographical novel La Confession d'un enfant du siècle (The Confession of a Child of the Century (1936)).

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

In Antiquity, the Greeks seemed to have refined accidie (which translated literally as being in “a state so inert as the be devoid of pain or care”) to be used of those who has become listless and no longer cared for their own lives or their society, thus distinguishing it from other conditions of melancholy which tended to be individually focused although in surviving medical texts, what’s being diagnosed was something like what might now be called “depression”.  Predictably, when adopted by moral theologians in Christian writing, it was depicted as a sin or at least a personal flaw.  Others wrote of it as a “demon” to be overcome and even a temptation placed by the Devil, one to which “young men who read poetry” seem to have been chronically prone.  It can be thought of as falling into the category of sloth, listed in the Medieval Latin tradition as of the seven deadly sins and appeared in Dante Alighieri’s (circa 1265–1321) Divina Commedia (Divine Comedy (circa 1310-1321)) not only as a sin worthy of damnation & eternal punishment but the very sin which led Dante to the edge of Hell.  In his unfinished Summa Theologiae (literally Summary of Theology), the Italian Dominican friar, philosopher & theologian Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274) noted accidie was a spiritual sorrow, induced by man’s flight from the Divine good, “…on account of the flesh utterly prevailing over the spirit”, the kind of despair which can culminate in the even greater sin of suicide.

Google ngram: Accidie 1800-2020.

Google ngram: Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

Etymologists note that between the mid sixteenth and mid nineteenth centuries the word acedia was close to extinct and whether it was the revival of interest in the Romantic poets (often a glum lot) or the increasing number of women becoming novelists, there was in the late 1800s a revival with the term, once the preserve of theologians, re-purposed as a decorative literary word; in the “terrible twentieth century” there was much scope for use and it appears in the writings of Ian Fleming (1908–1964), Aldous Huxley (1894–1963) and Samuel Beckett (1906-1989).  Intriguingly, in The Decline and Fall of Nokia (2014), Finnish-based expatriate US writer David J Cord introduced the concept of corporate acedia, citing the phenomenon as one of the causes of the collapse of Nokia's once dominant mobile device unit.

Joan Didion (1934-2021) and cigarette with her Daytona Yellow (OEM code 984) 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray (on the C2 Corvette (1963-1967) and in 1968 the spelling had been "Sting Ray”).  The monochrome image was from a photo-session commissioned in 1970 by Life magazine and shot by staff photographer Julian Wasser (1933-2023), outside the house she was renting on Franklin Avenue in the Hollywood Hills.  To great acclaim, her first work of non-fiction, Slouching Towards Bethlehem (1968), had just been published.

Writing mostly, in one way or another, about “feelings”, Joan Didion’s work appealed mostly to a female readership but when photographs were published of her posing with her bright yellow Corvette, among men presumably she gained some “street cred” although that might have evaporated had they learned it was later traded for a Volvo; adding insult to injury, it was a Volvo station wagon with all that implies.  She was later interviewed about the apparent incongruity between owner and machine and acknowledged the strangeness, commenting: “I very definitely remember buying the Stingray because it was a crazy thing to do.  I bought it in Hollywood.”  Craziness and Hollywood were then of course synonymous and a C3 Corvette (1968-1982) really was the ideal symbol of the America about which Ms Didion wrote, being loud, flashy, rendered in plastic and flawed yet underpinned by a solid, well-engineered foundation; the notion of the former detracting from the latter was theme in in her essays on the American experience.

A 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray in Daytona Yellow.

Disillusioned, melancholic and clinical, Ms Didion’s literary oeuvre suited the moment because while obviously political it was also spiritual, a critique of what she called the “accidie” of the late 1960s, the moral torpor of those disappointed by what had followed the hope and optimism captured by “Camelot”, the White House of John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963).  In retrospect Camelot was illusory but that of course made real the disillusionment of Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; US president 1963-1969) leading the people not to a “great society” but deeper into Vietnam.  Her essays were in the style of the “new journalism” and sometimes compared with those of her contemporary Susan Sontag (1933-2004) but the two differed in method, tone, ideological orientation and, debatably, expectation if not purpose.

Susan Sontag (1962), monochrome image by Village Voice staff photographer Fred McDarrah (1926–2007).

Ms Didion’s used accidie to describe a society which the troubled 1960s seemed to have bludgeoned into a state not of acquiescence but indifference, a moral exhaustion.  Her writings were observational (and, as she admitted, sometimes “embellished” for didactic purposes), sceptical and cool, her conception of the failure of contemporary politics a matter of describing the disconnect between rhetoric and reality, understanding the language of theatre criticism was as appropriate as that of the lexicon of political science.  In a sense, 'twas ever thus but Ms Didion captured the imagination by illustrating just how far from the moorings of reality the political spectacle of myth-making had drifted.  Ms Sontag’s tone was declarative and distinctly authoritative (in the way of second-wave feminism), tending often to the polemic and the sense was she was writing in opposition to a collective immorality, not the kind of moral indifference Ms Didion detected.  Both were students of their nation’s cultural pathology but one seemed more a palliative care specialist tending a patient in their dying days while the other offered a diagnosis and suggested a cure which, while not something to enjoy: "would be good for them".  While Ms Didion distrusted ideological certainty, Ms Sontag engaged explicitly with “isms”, not in the sense of one writing of the history of ideas but as a protagonist, using language in an attempt to shape political consciousness, the former a kind of secular moral theologian mourning a loss of coherence in American life while the latter was passionate and wrote often with a strident urgency, never losing the sense that whatever her criticisms, things could be fixed and there was hope.  The irony of being an author to some degree afflicted by the very accide she described in others was not lost on Ms Didion.

Susan Sontag, circa 1971, photographed by Jim Cartier.  The pop-art portrait of comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) was a print of Roy Lichtenstein's (1923–1997) Mao (1971) which had been used as the cover for US author Frederic Tuten's (b 1936) novel The Adventures of Mao on the Long March (1971).  Ms Sontag had written a most favourable review of the book and the framed print was reputedly a gift.

Joan Didion with Corvette, another image from Julian Wasser’s 1970 photo-shoot.  The staging in this one is for feminists to ponder.

While a stretch to say that in trading-in the Corvette for a Volvo station wagon, Ms Didion was tracking the nation which had moved from Kennedy to Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974), it’s too tempting not to make.  Of the Corvette, she used the phrase: “I gave up on it”, later recounting: “the dealer was baffled” but denied the change was related to moving after eight years from Malibu to leafy, up-market suburban Brentwood.  While she “…needed a new car because with the Corvette something was always wrong…” she “…didn’t need a Volvo station wagon” although did concede: “Maybe it was the idea of moving into Brentwood.”  She should have persevered because as many an owner of a C3 Corvette understands, the faults and flaws are just part of the brutish charm.  Whether the car still exists isn't known; while Corvette's have a higher than average survival rate, their use on drag strips & race tracks as well as their attractiveness to males aged 17-25 has meant not a few suffered misadventure.

Joan Didion with Corvette, rendered as oil on canvas with yellow filter.

The configuration of her car seems not anywhere documented but a reasonable guess is it likely was ordered with the (base) 300 horsepower (hp) version (ZQ3) of the 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) small-block V8, coupled with the Turbo-Hydramatic 400 (TH400) (M40) three-speed automatic transmission (the lighter TH350 wouldn't be used until 1976 by which time power outputs had fallen so much the robustness of the TH400 was no longer required).  When scanning the option list, although things like the side-mounted exhaust system (N14) or the 430 hp versions (the iron-block L88 & all aluminium ZL1, the power ratings of what were barely-disguised race car engines deliberately understated, the true output between 540-560 hp) of the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) big-block V8 would not have tempted Ms Didion, she may have ticked the box for the leather trim (available in six colors and the photos do suggest black (402 (but if vinyl the code was ZQ4)), air conditioning (C60), power steering (N40), power brakes (J50), power windows (A31) or an AM-FM radio (U69 and available also (at extra cost) with stereo (U79)).  Given she later traded-in the Corvette on a Volvo station wagon, presumably the speed warning indicator (U15) would have been thought superfluous but, living in Malibu, the alarm system (UA6) might have caught her eye.

An emo with 1977 Volvo 245 station wagon; if she had a Corvette to pose with she’d be smiling because Corvettes can make even emos happy.  This is Emma Myers (b 2002) as Pippa "Pip" Fitz-Amobi in A Good Girl's Guide to Murder (Netflix, 2024).

Quintessential symbols of France, Bridget Bardot (b 1934), Citroën La Déesse and a lit Gitanes.

The combination of a car, a woman with JBF and a cigarette continued to draw photographers even after smoking ceased to be glamorous and became a social crime.  First sold in 1910, Gitanes production in France survived two world wars, the Great Depression, Nazi occupation but the regime of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) proved too much and, following the assault on tobacco by Brussels and Paris, in 2005 the factory in Lille was shuttered.  Although Gitanes (and the sister cigarette Gauloise) remain available in France, they are now shipped from Spain and while in most of the Western world fewer now smoke, Gitanes Blondes retain a cult following.

Emily Labowe with Mercedes-Benz 300 TD (S123), photographed by Kristin Gallegos.

An image like this illustrate why, even if no longer quite as glamourous, smoking can still look sexy.  The 300 TD is finished in Manila Beige and for the W123 range Mercedes-Benz also offered the subdued Maple Yellow and the exuberant Sun Yellow which was as vivid as the Corvette's Daytona Yellow. 

No images seem to exist of Ms Didion with her Volvo station wagon but Laurel Canyon's Kristin Gallegos (b 1984) later followed Julian Wasser’s staging by photographing artist Emily Labowe (b 1993) with a Mercedes-Benz 300 TD station wagon and that once essential accessory: a cigarette.  One of the last of the “chrome Mercedes”, the W123 range was in production between 1975-1986 and the station wagon appeared in 1977 with the internal code S123 (only nerds use that and to the rest of the world they’re “W123 wagons”).  The designation was “T” (the very Germanic Tourismus und Transport (Touring and Transport)) or TD for the diesel-powered cars and the S123 was the company’s first station wagon to enter series production, previous such “long roof” models coming from coach-builders including many hearses & ambulances as well as station wagons.  The English still call station wagons "estates" (a clipping of "estate car") although a publication like Country Life probably still hankers after "shooting brake" and the most Prussian of the German style guides list the compound noun Kombinationskraftwagen which for decades has usually been clipped to the semi-formal Kombiwagen, (plural Kombiwagen or Kombiwägen) or, in general use: Kombi.

1978 Mercedes Benz 280 TE (S123).

That Mercedes-Benz in the mid-1970s decided their first station wagon in regular production should be a “T” (and understood as a Tourenwagen (touring car) rather than a “K” (ie Kombiwagen, the designation used by other manufacturers) reflected the prevailing German view of such cars.  Unlike the US where station wagons had long been emblematic of middle-class respectability (often as a family’s second car for the wife & mother) or England where the style enjoyed an association with the upper class HFS (huntin’, fishin’ & shootin’) set, to Germans the utilitarian long-roofs had a down-market image, bought only by those unable to afford separate vehicles for business & pleasure.  Coach-builders had of course used Mercedes-Benz saloons as the basis for station wagons, ambulances and hearses but these were always expensive and thus not tainted by association with thriftiness by necessity.  In their alphanumeric soup of model designations, Mercedes-Benz had previously used “K” to mean either Kompressor (supercharged) (eg 770 K) or Kurz  (short) (eg SSK) and other letters had also done double-duty, “L” standing for either Lang (long) (eg 500 SEL) or Licht (light) (eg SSKL) and “S” could mean both Super (300 SL) or Sports (300 SLR) so for the S123 “K” wasn’t avoided because of fears of confusing folk; it was just an image thing: "Don't mention the kombi".  That all changed in the 1980s when the Germans decided wagons were sexy after all, the high performance arms of Audi, BMW & Mercedes-Benz all producing some remarkably fast ones.   

Mercedes-Benz G4s: Gepäckwagen (baggage car, top left) & Funkauto (radio car, top right) and 300 Messwagen (bottom left) at speed on the test track, tethered to a W111 sedan (1959-1968, bottom right).

The factory did though over the decades build a handful including a brace of the three-axle G4s (W31, 1934-1939), one configured as a Gepäckwagen (baggage car), the other a Funkauto (radio car).  In 1960 there was also the Messwagen (measuring car), a kind of “rolling laboratory” from the era before technology allowed most testing to be emulated in software.  The capacious Messwagen was based on the W189 300 “Adenauer” (W186 & W189 1951-1962) and was then state of the art but by the 2020s, the capabilities of all the bulky equipment which filled the rear compartment could have been included in a single phone app.  Students of design will admire the mid-century modernism in the curve of the rear-side windows but might be surprised to learn the muscle car-like scoop on the roof is not an air-intake but an aperture housing ports for connecting the Messwagen’s electronic gear with the vehicle being monitored, the two closely driven in unison (often at high speed) on the test track while being linked with a few metres of cabling and although we now live in a wireless age, real nerds know often a cable is preferable, the old ways sometimes best.  The Messwagen remained in service until 1972 and is now on display at the factory’s museum in Stuttgart.   

1956 Mercedes-Benz 300c (W186 "Adenauer") Estate Car by Binz.

The factory's Messwagen wasn't the first use of the big W186/W189 for long-roof variants, hearses and ambulances having appeared in several European countries and there was at least one station wagon, proving consumption can be conspicuous yet still subtle, achieved usually if a bespoke creation is both expensive and functional.  The 300 saloons and four-door cabriolets were large, stately and beautifully built, the 1956 example pictured was delivered to a customer in the US who for whatever reason prized exclusivity over capacity or speed, all the major US manufacturers at the time offering station wagons able to accommodate more people and more more luggage while going much faster.  The 300 certainly would have delivered better fuel economy but that wouldn't have crossed the mind of the purchaser who would have been deterred from something like a Chrysler New Yorker or Ford Country Squire because they were, by comparison with her one-off, cheap and common whereas a custom built 300 “dripped money”; even to the uninformed they would obviously have been expensive and it was thus a classic "Veblen good" a quirk in the supply & demand curve of orthodox economics in that for a certain (ie the "1%") demographic demand for an item can increase as its price rises.  The car still exists, traded between collectors to be exhibited at concours d'elegance.

1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser (left), details of the apparatuses above the windscreen (centre) and the Breezeaway rear window lowered (right)

The 1957 Mercury Turnpike Cruiser was notable for (1) the truly memorable model name, (2) the “Breezeway" rear window which could be lowered and (3) having a truly bizarre assembly  of “features” above the windscreen.  There’s no suggestion that when fashioning the 300 Messwagen the engineers in Stuttgart were aware of the Turnpike Cruiser but had they looked, it could have provided an inspiration for the way access to ports in the roof could have been handled.  Unfortunately, the pair of “radio aerials” protruding from the pods at the top of the Mercury’s A-pillars were a mere affectation, a “jet-age” motif embellishing what were actually air-intakes.  They were though a harbinger of the way in which future “measuring vehicles” would be configured when various forms of wireless communication had advanced to the point at which a cable connection was no longer required.  

Bugeye & Frogeye

Bugeye (pronounced buhg-ahy)

(1) A nautical term for a ketch-rigged sailing vessel used on Chesapeake Bay.

(2) A slang term, unrelated to the nautical use, used to describe objects or creatures with the bulging eyes resembling those of certain bugs.

1883: An Americanism, the construct being bug + eye, coined to describe the 1880s practice of shipwrights painting a large eye on each bow of the ketches used for oyster dredging in Chesapeake Bay, an estuary in the US states of Maryland and Virginia.  Bug dates from 1615–1625 and the original use was to describe insects, apparently as a variant of the earlier bugge (beetle), thought to be an alteration of the Middle English budde, from the Old English -budda (beetle) but etymologists are divided on whether the phrase “bug off” (please leave) is related to the undesired presence of insects or was of a distinct origin.  Although “unbug” makes structural sense (ie remove a bug, as opposed to the sense of “debug”), it doesn’t exist whereas forms such as the adjectives unbugged (not bugged) and unbuggable (not able to be bugged) are regarded as standard.  Eye pre-dates 900 and was from the Middle English eie, yë, eighe, eyghe, yȝe, eyȝe & ie, from the Old English ēge, a variant of ēage, from the Proto-West Germanic augā, from the Proto-Germanic augô (eye).  It was cognate with the German Auge & the Icelandic auga and akin to the Latin oculus (eye), the Lithuanian akìs (eye), the Slavic (Polish) oko (eye), the Old Church Slavonic око (oko) (eye), the Albanian sy (eye), the Ancient Greek ὄψ (óps) (in poetic use, “eye; face”) & ὄσσε (ósse) (eyes), the Armenian ակն (akn), the Avestan aši (eyes) and the Sanskrit अक्षि (ákṣi).  A related Modern English form is “ogle”.  Bugeye is a noun and bugeyed is an adjective; the noun plural is bugeyes.  Hyphenated use of all forms is common. 

Frogeye (pronounced frog-ahy or frawg-ahy)

(1) In botany, a small, whitish leaf spot with a narrow barker border, produced by certain fungi.

(2) A plant disease so characterized.

(3) A slang term, unrelated to the botanical use, used to describe objects or creatures with the bulging eyes resembling those of frogs.

1914–15: A descriptive general term, the construct being frog + eye, for the condition Botryosphaeria obtusa, a plant pathogen that causes Frogeye leaf spot, black rot and cankers on many plant species.  The fungus was first described by in 1832 as Sphaeria obtusa, refined as Physalospora obtusa in 1892 while the final classification was defined in 1964.  Frog (any of a class of small tailless amphibians of the family Ranidae (order Anura) which typically move by hopping and in zoology often referred to as “true frog” because in general use “frog” is used loosely or visually similar creatures) pre-dates 1000 and was from the Middle English frogge, from the Old English frogga, from the Proto-West Germanic froggō (frog).  It was cognate with the Norwegian Nynorsk fraug (frog) and Old Norse frauki and there may be links with the Saterland Frisian Poage (frog) and the German Low German Pogg & Pogge (frog).  The alternative forms in English (some still in regional use at least as late as the mid-seventeenth century were frosk, frosh & frock.  Eye pre-dates 900 and was from the Middle English eie, yë, eighe, eyghe, yȝe, eyȝe & ie, from the Old English ēge, a variant of ēage, from the Proto-West Germanic augā, from the Proto-Germanic augô (eye).  It was cognate with the German Auge & the Icelandic auga and akin to the Latin oculus (eye), the Lithuanian akìs (eye), the Slavic (Polish) oko (eye), the Old Church Slavonic око (oko) (eye), the Albanian sy (eye), the Ancient Greek ὄψ (óps) (in poetic use, “eye; face”) & ὄσσε (ósse) (eyes), the Armenian ակն (akn), the Avestan aši (eyes) and the Sanskrit अक्षि (ákṣi).  A related Modern English form is “ogle”.  Frogeye is a noun and frogeyed is an adjective; the noun plural is frogeyes.  Hyphenated use of all forms is common.

Bugeye or frogeye: The Austin-Healey Sprite

1960 Austin-Healey Sprite (left) & 1972 MG Midget (right).

The Austin-Healey Sprite was produced between 1958 and 1971 (although in the last year of production they were badged as the Austin Sprite, reflecting the end of the twenty year contract with Donald Healey's (1898–1988) eponymous company).  Beginning in 1961, the car was restyled and a more conventional frontal appearance was adopted, shared with the almost identical MG Midget, introduced as at the same time as a corporate companion and the Midget outlived the Sprite, the last built in 1980.  Upon release, the Sprite immediately picked up the nicknames frogeye (UK & most of the Commonwealth) and bugeye (North America) because the headlights were mounted as protuberances atop the hood (bonnet), bearing a resemblance to the eyes of some frogs and bugs.  The original design included retractable headlights but to reduce both cost and weight, fixed-lights were used.  As purely functional mountings, such things continue to be fitted to rally-cars.  The linguistic quirk that saw the Sprite nicknamed bugeye in North America and frogeye in most of the rest of the English-speaking world is a mystery.  Etymologists have noted the prior US use of bugeye as a nautical term but it was both geographically and demographically specific and that use, visually, was hardly analogous with the Sprite.  No other explanation has been offered; the English language is like that.

1963 Lightburn Zeta (left) 1964 Lightburn Zeta Sports (centre) & Lightburn Zeta Sports with "sports lights" (right).  Not everything in the 1960s was groovy. 

1949 Crosley Hotshot.

Although distinctive, the look wasn’t new, familiar from the use of the Triumph TR2 (1952) and Crosley in the US had used a similar arrangement for their "Hotshot" & "Super Sport" (1949-1952 and notable for being fitted with four-wheel disk brakes although heey didn't work very well) and in Australia, Lightburn (previously noted for their well-regarded washing machines and cement mixers) were in 1964 forced to adopt them for the woeful Zeta Sports to meet headlight-height regulations.  The Zeta Sports was better looking than the Trabant-like "two-door sedan" which preceded it but truly that is damning with faint praise.  An adaptation (development seems not the appropriate word) of the Meadows Frisky microcar of the mid-1950s, the Zeta Sports was built in South Australia and initially it wasn't realized headlight-height rules in New South Wales (NSW) were such that the low-slung Zeta couldn't comply, even were the suspension to be raised, an expedient MG was compelled to use in 1974 to ensure the bumpers of the Midget & MGB sat at the height specified in new US rules.  Instead "sports lights" were added to the bonnet (hood) which lent more more cartoon-like absurdity to the thing but did little to increase its appeal, only a few dozen built in the two years it was available.

1959 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Speciale, Tipo (type) 101.20. 

Ungainly the bugeye lights may have been but they were a potentially handy addition given the original headlights doubled as bumper bars.  That seems a silly idea and it is but it wasn't unique to the Zeta and some examples had exquisite (if vulnerable) coachwork, such as the early (low-nose) versions of the much-admired Alfa Romeo Giulietta SS (Sprint Speciale, Tipo (type) 101.20; 1957-1962).  It was only the first 101 cars which were produced in lightweight, bumper-bar less form, that run to fulfil the FIA's homologation rules which demanded a minimum of 100 identical examples to establish eligibility in certain classes of production-car racing.

Lindsay Lohan in "bugeye" sunglasses, the look made popular by Jacqueline Kennedy (1929-1994; US First Lady 1961-1963). 

So aerodynamically efficient (the drag coefficient (CD) a reputed .28) was Carrozzeria Bertone's design that although using only a 1290 cm³ (79 cubic inch) engine with barely 100 hp (75 kW), the SS could achieve an even now impressive 200 km/h (124 mph).  Fitted with a 498 cm³ engine which yielded 21 hp (15.5 kW), the Zeta Sedan thankfully wasn't that fast but did feature a four speed manual gearbox with no reverse gear; to reverse a Zeta, the ignition key was turned the opposite direction so the crankshaft turned the other way.  All four gears remained available so top speed in reverse would presumably have been about the same as going forward but, as Chrysler discovered during the testing for the doomed Airflow (1934-1937), given the vagaries of aerodynamics, it may even have been faster, something which certainly may have been true of the Sports, (at least with the soft top erected) given the additional drag induced by the bugeye lights.  This was never subject to a practical test because unlike the sedan, the diminutive roadster had a reverse gear.  

The class-winning Austin-Healey Sprite, Coupe des Alpes rally, 1958.  With its goofy bugeyes and "grinning grill", the Sprite was often anthropomorphized.  It was part of the little machine's charm and, cheap to run and easy to tune, Sprites were for decades a mainstay of entry-level motorsport and still appear in historic categories.  For years they were cheap so predictably were repowered by more powerful engines including V8s, the transplantation of which could be challenging, as was the subsequent driving experience.

An Italian Bugeye: Pininfarina's Ferrari 330 GTC Speciale

1968 Ferrari 330 GTC.

Introduced at the 1966 Geneva Auto Show, the 330 GTC was an important model for Ferrari and something of a watershed, the model defining the template which would be used for a succession of grand touring models which profitably could be manufactured and sold in volumes which, by Ferrari’s historic standards, constituted mass-production.  Between 1966-1968 597 were built (the of-quoted 598 said to be a double-counting of one chassis number), buyers attracted not only by the style but also creature comforts like air-conditioning and electric windows.  Additionally, there had been refinements to extend the appeal beyond those drawn to the faster but more raucous sports cars, independent rear suspension meaning the ride was softer and the attention paid to NVH (noise, vibration and harshness although the acronym wasn’t then in use in Italy where all three qualities still had a following) meant merely the thing was less tiring (noise is a source of stress); the 330 GTC was said to be the first Ferrari in which the radio genuinely was usable.  Styled by Pininfarina, taking cues from the 500 Superfast (1964-1966) at the front and the 275 GTS (1964-1966) to the rear, it shared the 2,400 mm (94½ inch) wheelbase of the 275 GTB (1964-1968).  A lovely, elegant shape which aged well, it wouldn’t seem to need enhancement but Pininfarina did just that, using the 330 GTC as a test-bed for a number of design studies, some of the details almost imperceptible and some obvious.

1964 Ferrari 330 GT 2+2 (left) and 1967 Ferrari 365 California Spyder (right). 

Of the latter, the most obvious was the addition of a pair of Supervis (super vision) driving lights in retractable housings, as used on the Ferrari 365 California Spyder (1966-1967).  By the mid 1960s, integrated quad headlights had for a decade been a part of mainstream design but their appearance on a Ferrari  had not met with universal praise, the 330 GT 2+2 (1964-1967) produced for its first two seasons with four but reverting to what was judged a more aesthetically accomplished pair for the rest of its run.  Speeds however were rising and the networks of European roads designed for high speed cruising rapidly were being extended and the need for better headlights was acknowledged.  Soon, technology would provide that but in the short term the solution was to add another pair and the retractable units on the Superfast were a way to do that without compromising the marque’s recognizable design language.  It was only on the Superfast the Supervis lights were standard equipment and they appeared on only two of the four 330 GTC Speciales along with a handful of regular production 330 GTC (fitted upon customer request, most sources suggest only three took up the option) and the clearly limited demand, coupled with the labor-intensive installation process, dissuaded Ferrari from extending availability as early as 1965 they appear to have vanished from the option list.  Not until compelled by US regulators a half-decade later would the factory return to retractable headlights, by then in a symmetrical quad.

Ferrari 330 GTC Speciale (serial number 8727, Pininfarina construction number CO 004, left) and in bug-eye mode (right).  This does hint why rarely are the the 365 California Spyders photographed with headlights raised. 

The brace of Supervis on chassis 8727 had a history.  Sometime prior to 1988 the front of the car had been damaged and when repairs were effected, the bug-eye lights simply were removed, the suddenly gaping apertures covered with a plug from sheet aluminium; once painted, the nose again resembled that of the standard 330 GTC the car had once been.  It was only during a later restoration the plugs were discovered and information was sought from Pininfarina which provided details of the history.  Obviously the rotating mechanisms were no longer available so those on one of the 14 365 California Spyders were removed and disassembled, allowing every part exactly to be duplicated, a process as expensive as it sounds and, adding to the cost, it was necessary to fabricate a new nose-cone because the existing metal surrounding the plugs had become too fragile to support the weight.

Skinnytoker Trindalyn Mackenzie skinnysplaining that "skinny isn't owned, it's rented".

The bug-eye look was adopted by the skinnytokers (the skinnytok community said to be "the acceptable pro ana") because the exaggerated size of the frames and lens creates the visual illusion of making the face appear thinner although Trindalyn Mackenzie seems anyway splendidly slender.  

A French bugeye: The Matra 530SX

Matra’s 1967 advertising copy for the last of the Sports Jets (left) and a 530 (right).

René Bonnet (1904–1983) was a self-taught French designer and engineer who joined the long list of those unable to resist the lure of building a car bearing his name.  It ended badly but his venture does enjoy a place in history because briefly he produced the first mid-engined road cars offered for general sale, some four years after the configuration had in Formula One racing begun to exert a dominance which endures to this day.  His diminutive sports car (marketed variously as René Bonnet Djet, Matra-Bonnet Djet, Matra Sports Djet & Matra Sports Jet) were produced by his company between 1962-1964 and by Matra for a further two years, the French manufacturer taking over the concern when Bonnet was unable to pay for the components earlier supplied.  While Matra continued production of the Djet, it used the underpinnings for a much revised model which would in 1967 emerge as the Matra 530.

Matra R.530 surface to air missile (1962, left) and René Bonnet Missile (1959-1962).

It was only force of circumstances which would lead Matra to producing the Djet.  As Bonnet’s largest creditor when the bills grew beyond his capacity to pay, the accountants worked out the only hope of recovering their stake was to take the equity and continue the operation.  Although asset-stripping wasn’t then the thing it would later become, there’s nothing to suggest this was contemplated and the feeling was the superior administrative capacity of Matra would allow things to be run in a more business-like manner although there was genuine interest in the workforce’s skills with the then still novel fibreglass.  However, although Djet production resumed under new management, Bonnet’s other offerings such as the Missile (1959-1962) were retired.  The missile, a small, front-wheel drive (FWD) convertible was a tourer in the pre-war vein rather than a sports car but while the idea probably had potential, the price was high, the performance lethargic and the styling quirky even by French standards.  In looks, it had much in common with the contemporary Daimler SP250 including the tailfins and catfish-like nose but while the British roadster was genuinely a high-high performance (if flawed) sports car, the missile did not live up to its name; under the hood (bonnet) sat small (some sub 1000 cm³) four cylinder engines rather than the Daimler’s sonorous V8.  One influence did however carry over: Matra named the 530 after one of their other products: the R.530 surface to air missile which had entered service in 1962 after a five year development.

Vis-à-vis: Matra 530: The LX (left) and the SX (right).

Using three-numeral numbers for car names is not unusual but usually the reference is to engine capacity (in the metric world a 280 being 2.8 litres, a 350, 3.5 litres etc while in imperial terms 350, 427 et al stood as an indication of the displacement in cubic inches).  Buick proved a contrarian, their 445 V8 gaining the name from its torque rating and the company used 225 in honor of the impressive 225 inch (5.7 m) length of the the 1959 Electra (Jayne Mansfield (1933–1967) died in a 225), sticking to to it for years even as the thing grew and shrunk and there have been many three-digit numbers which indicated a model's place in the hierarchy, the choice sometimes seemingly arbitrary.  Porsche in 1963 thought 901 was innocuous but Peugeot objected, claiming an exclusive right (for cars sold in France) to the use of three digit numbers with a central "0".  At that point Mercedes-Benz had in France been for a decade been selling the 300 and were about to release the 600 so it seemed an ambitious claim but, given the advice the case would be heard in a French court (which meant the French would win), Porsche renamed the thing 911 and the rest is history.  The "Letter Series" Chrysler 300 gained the name from its industry-leading 300 horse power, 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) V8 and such was the reputation the thing soon established that even though over the following eleven years displacement and power both rose, the "300" model designation was retained, the allure so strong there was a twenty-first century revival.  Even now, 300 sounds an impressive number if linked to horsepower while the "110" used by both Austin and Wolseley doesn't stir the imagination, even though it denoted a useful 11% jump in horsepower from the previous 99.  The three-dozen odd models of the French Monica (1971-1975) were all called "560" because although Chrysler invoiced the company for "340 cid" (cubic inch displacement) V8s, to have called it the 340 would have baffled many in Europe for whom inches were mysterious so 560 it was, a familiar allusion to its 5.6 litres.  Unfortunately, after the ripples of the first oil shock washed over Europe after 1973, engines of that size become suddenly unfashionable and Monica was doomed along with most of the once lucrative trans-Atlantic ecosystem.  

1971 Chrysler (Australia) VG Valiant Regal 770 Hardtop.

Perhaps because 220, 440, 330 and such can be multiples of amicable numbers (and thus possess a beauty for mathematicians), they seem to have been used as model designations unrelated to the three numeral string’s usual function of (usually with some rounding up or down) indicating engine displacement (Kawasaki 440=440 cm3; Mercedes-Benz 220=2.2 litres; Oldsmobile 330=330 cid etc). AMC (American Motor Corporation) had the most complete sequence, using 220, 330, 440, 550, 660, 770, 880 & 990 to tag a model’s place in the hierarchy and in Australia Chrysler used 660 and 770 for their blinged-up Hillman Hunter and Valiant respectively; they also called the Hunter a “Royal” in case 660 was too abstract for the colonials. There, Ford's Mark 1 Cortina was sold as a 220 (the so-called "poverty" model which was a two-door without even a standard heater so it could be advertised at the lowest possible price) & 440 (the better equipped four-door version).  When a two door version with the 440 equipment levels was released, instead of 330 it was called 240. Confusingly, in the US during the late 1960s and early 1970s, some of Chrysler Corporation's models used 440 as a trim level designation at the same time their 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 was widely available although the 440 V8 wasn't available in the "440" models; that must have made sense to someone on the executive floor.  550 is also a footnote because the Mercedes-Benz R230 (2001-2011) was unusual because of the quirk of the SL 550 (2006-2011), a designation used exclusively in the North American market, the RoW (rest of the world) cars retaining the SL 500 badge even though both used the 5.5 litre (333 cubic inch) V8 (M273).

1989 ZIL-41052 presidential limousine (one of 13 built) used by both comrade Mikhail Gorbachev (1931–2022; Soviet leader 1985-1991) and former comrade Boris Yeltsin (1931–2007; President of Russia 1991-1999).  Comrade Gorbachev is standing third from left.

Apparently, the number "7" is among people with a preference for such things the "most popular number" and this seems to be neither culturally no gender nor specific.  Having a "favorite number" for reasons unrelated to connection with anything else is a real phenomenon and is not restricted to synesthetes although presumably their experiences provide at least some empirical rationale for a preference.  Historically there are things in seven (the "seven seas", the "seven wonders of the ancient world" et al) and Christianity, as well as assuring us God rested on the seventh day after creating all in six, lists the "seven deadly sins" for us to avoid, lest we been damned for eternity to Hell.  Mathematicians note that of the ten numerals it has certain unique properties but this isn't thought to account for the attraction and it may be nothing more than the character "7" being thought visually attractive and the pronunciation of "seven" being pleasing.  Since 1995 Boeing has produced the 777 airliner and as well Chrysler and AMC, there have been other cars called 770, including one which became infamous for its later association with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945): The Mercedes-Benz 770 & 770K, produced in two generation (W07, 1930-1938 & W150, 1938-1943), known also as the Grosser (grand) Mercedes.  The 770's gained their name from the 7.7 litre (468 cubic) inch straight-eight engines (many of which were supercharged) although when the Soviet 7.0 litre (425 cubic inch) V8 ZIL 117 was upgraded (as the 4104) to a 7.7 litre V8, there was no use of "7" in the title and only one did one appear in the nomenclature used for its successors (1985-2010).

Hongqi CA770 four-door cabriolet with comrade chairman Mao Zedong (standing centre) holding the "handle-bar"); comrade vice charman Lin Biao to his left.  The image was taken at the dawn of the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976), Tiananmen Square, Peking (Beijing), 1966.

The big ZILs were allocated almost exclusively to senior figures in the Communist Party and that was true of its Chinese counterpart, the Hongqi CA770; like the Soviet ZILs, the Honqqis owed much (borrowed, stolen, copied) to the West and in some case the Chinese even used some US built-V8 engines.  Among the most photographed of the CA770s were the four-door cabriolets (complete with suicide doors) in which would stand CCP (Chinese Communist Party) worthies like comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; CCP chairman 1949-1976), comrade Lin Biao (1907–1971; CCP vice chairman 1958-1971) and comrade Zhou Enlai (1898–1976; premier of the People's Republic of China (PRC) 1949-1976), waiving to dutifully assembled peasants, hopefully grateful for being able to buy their bicycles.  Neither the CA770 or its successors used engines as large as the Mercedes-Benz or the ZILs but all consumed fossil fuel and discharged greenhouse gasses in volumes which would have appalled Greta Thunberg (b 2003).

Nor is a link with the materiel of the military unusual, the names of warships have been borrowed and Chevrolet used Corvette as a deliberate allusion to speed and agility but an air-to-air missile was an unusual source although Dodge did once display a Sidewinder show car.  Eventually the Corvette did live up to its name although the humble Triumph Spitfire was a far cry from the fighter aircraft which became famous in the Battle of Britain (1940).  At the time though, it wasn't the Matra's name which attracted most comment.  There have been quite a few French cars which looked weirder than the 530 but the small, mid-engined sports car was visually strange enough although, almost sixty years on, it has aged rather well and the appearance would by most plausibly be accepted as something decades younger.  The automotive venture wasn’t a risk for Matra because it was a large and diversified industrial conglomerate with profitable interests in transport, telecommunications, aerospace and of course defence (missiles, cluster-bombs, rockets and all that).  As things transpired, the automotive division would for a while prove a valuable prestige project, the participation in motorsport yielding a Formula One Constructors’ Championship and three back-to-back victories in the Le Mans 24 hour endurance classic.

Matra 530: The LX (left) and the SX (right).

The road-car business however proved challenging and Matra never became a major player.  Although the British and Italians would prove there was a market for small, economical sports cars, buyers seemed mostly to prefer more traditionally engineered roadsters which were ruggedly handsome rather than delicately avant-garde.  Although as a niche model in a niche market, the volumes were never high, the 530 was subject to constant development and in 1970 the 530LX was released, distinguished by detail changes and some mechanical improvements.  Most distinctive however was next year’s 530SX, an exercise in “de-contenting” (producing what the US industry used to call a “stripper”) so it could be offered at a lower price point, advertised at 19,000 Fr against the 22,695 asked for the LX.  It was a linguistic coincidence the SX label was later chosen for the lower price 386 & 486 CPUs (central processing unit) by the US-based Intel although they labeled their full-priced offerings DX.

Yuri Gagarin (1934–1968; Soviet pilot and cosmonaut and the first human to travel to “outer space”) with his 1965 Matra Djet (left), standing in front of the Покори́телям ко́смоса (Monumént Pokorítelyam kósmosa) (Monument to the Conquerors of Space), the titanium obelisk erected in 1964 to celebrate the USSR's pioneering achievements in space exploration.  The structure stands 351 feet (107 metres) tall and assumes an incline of 77° which is a bit of artistic licence because the rockets were launched in a vertical path but it was a good decision however because it lent the monument a greater sense of drama.  Underneath the obelisk sits the Музей космонавтики (Memorial Museum of Cosmonautics (known also as the Memorial Museum of Astronautics or Memorial Museum of Space Exploration)) and in the way which was typical of projects in the Brezhnev-era (Leonid Brezhnev (1906–1982; Soviet leader 1964-1982) USSR, although construction was begun in 1964, it wasn't until 1981 the museum opened to the public.  In the Soviet Union, while it was common for projects to be delayed for years, they were usually described as "ahead of schedule". 

The reduction in the cost of production of the SX was achieved in the usual way: remove whatever expensive stuff can be removed.  Thus (1) the retractable headlights were replaced with four fixed “bugeyes”, a single engine air vent was fitted instead of the LX’s four, (3) the rear seat and carpet were deleted, (4) the front seats were non-adjustable, (5) the trimmed dashboard was replaced by one in brushed aluminium (which was much-praised), the removable targa panels in the roof were substituted with a solid panel and, (7) metal parts like bumpers and the grille were painted matte black rather than being chromed.  In the the spirit of the ancien regime, the Frensh adopted the nicknames La Matra de Seigneur (the Matra of a Lord) for the LX & La Matra Pirate (the Matra of a pirate) for the SX.

Who wore the bugeye best?  Austin-Healey Sprite (1958, left), Lightburn Zeta Sports (1964, centre) and Matra 530SX (1971, right).

The SX did little to boost sales and even in 1972 which proved the 530’s most prolific year with 2159 produced, buyers still preferred the more expensive model by 1299 to 860.  Between 1967-1973, only 9609 530s were made: 3732 of the early models, 4731 of the LX and 1146 of the bugeyed SX and, innovative, influential and intriguing as it and the Djet were, it was a failure compared with something unadventurous like the MGB (1963-1980), over a half-million of which were delivered.  One 530 however remains especially memorable, a harlequinesque 1968 model painted by French artist Sonia Delaunay (1885–1979), a founder of the school of Orphism (a fork of Cubism which usually is described as an exercise in pure abstraction rendered in vivid colors).  The work was commissioned by Matra's CEO Jean-Luc Lagardère (1928–2003) for a charity auction and still is sometimes displayed in galleries.  In 2003, after some thirty years of co-production with larger manufacturers, Matra’s automotive division was declared bankrupt and liquidated.

1955 Mi-Val Mivalino with PAV 40 Trailer (left & right).  The frog (centre) is a ceramic by Fantastic Froggos.

Founded in 1950 in Gardone, Valtrompia, Italy to produce economical transport vehicles for the home market, Mi-val (Metalmeccanica Italiana Valtrompia) in 1953 gained a licence from FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany) manufacturer Messerschmitt to produce a version of their three-wheel micro-car.  Although using an Italian engine (an air cooled, 2-stroke, 171.7cm³ (10.5 cubic inch) single-cylinder unit) and a number of locally produced trim parts, most of the components were supplied as a kit to be assembled in Gardone but although the construction quality was high, demand never matched what Messerschmitt achieved in the FRG and the last of the 100-odd Mivalinos was made in 1955.

Ready to take to the Autobahn in pursuit of Porsches: Messerschmitt KR175 Kabinenrollers.

In the aftermath of World War II (1939-1945), there was a resolve among the victorious allied powers that Germany should be prevented from again building the military capacity to threaten the peace in Europe as had happened twice in the twentieth century, each time resulting in history’s most destructive wars.  Among the many restrictions imposed on German industry was a prohibition on the manufacture of aircraft, a technology which had emerged as a decisive strategic weapon and at the time the only creditable delivery system for the then novel atom bomb.  Germany’s surviving aircraft industry thus turned to other sectors, choosing where possible products most suited to their experience, plant and workforce, cars an obvious venture.  Like others, Messerschmitt had expertise in steel fabrication, the use of aluminium and advanced aerodynamics and there being a demand for small, economical and low-cost vehicles, the company created a “micro-car”, a three-wheeler which was a kind of motorcycle with enveloping bodywork, designed to accommodate two or three (although, as the contemporary photographs confirm, often more were crammed in).  The aptly-named Messerschmitt Kabinenroller (Cabin Scooter) was produced in both three and four wheeled form between 1953-1956 and although the engines were small, the performance was adequate even for Autobahn use because, reflecting the experience in aviation, the small machines were light and drag was low, the aerodynamics sound.  The most distinctive feature was the Perspex canopy, recalling the company’s wartime fighter aircraft and it afforded outstanding all-round visibility but on sunny days the heat build-up created a mini-greenhouse effect so removable shades were soon popular.

1959 Fahrzeug- und Maschinenbau (Messerschmitt) “Tiger” Tg500.

It wasn’t long after the end of hostilities that the threat of the Soviet Union’s divisions (and after 1949 its nuclear arsenal) replaced the fear of a resurgent Germany as the West’s strategic world view and in 1955, the FRG was admitted to membership of NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization, 1949).  One implication of all this was that West Germany was allowed to re-enter the aviation business so the Kabinenroller business was in 1956 sold to Fahrzeug und Maschinenbau which, in even reducing volumes, continued production until 1964.  By then, demand for micro-cars had fallen below the level required for profitability, the quirky sector suffering not only from the effects of the increasing prosperity delivered by the FRG’s post-war Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) but also the new generation of small cars such as the BMC (British Motor Corporation) Mini (1959-2000) and Fiat 500 (1957-1975) which, for only slightly more money, were perceived as scaled-down versions of “real cars” rather than a motorcycle with a body.