Legion

Legion (pronounced lee-juhn)

(1) In the army of Ancient Rome, a military formation which numbered between 3000-6000 soldiers, made up of infantry with supporting cavalry.

(2) A description applied to some large military and paramilitary forces.

(3) Any great number of things or (especially) as persons; a multitude; very great in number (usually postpositive).

(4) A description applied to some associations of ex-servicemen (usually initial capital).

(5) In biology, a taxonomic rank; a group of orders inferior to a class; in scientific classification, a term occasionally used to express an assemblage of objects intermediate between an order and a class.

1175–1225: From the Middle English legi(o)un, from the Old French legion (squad, band, company, Roman military unit), from the Latin legiōnem & legiōn- (nominative legiō) (picked body of soldiers; a levy of troops), the construct being leg(ere) (to gather, choose, read; pick out, select), from the primitive Indo-European root leg- (to gather; to collect) + -iōn   The suffix –ion was from the Middle English -ioun, from the Old French -ion, from the Latin -iō (genitive iōnis).  It was appended to a perfect passive participle to form a noun of action or process, or the result of an action or process.  Legion & legionry are nouns, adjective & verb and legionnaire & legionary are nouns; the noun plural is legions.

The generalized sense of "a large number of persons" emerged circa 1300 as a consequence of its use of legion in some translations of the Bible (my name is Legion: for we are many (Mark 5:9; King James Version (KJV, 1611)).  It was used to describe various European military formations since the 1590s and had been applied to some associations of ex-servicemen since the American Legion was established in 1919.  The French légion d'honneur (Legion of Honor) is an order of distinction founded by Napoleon in 1802, the légion étrangère (French Foreign Legion) was originally a unit of the French army officially made up of foreign volunteers (Polish, Belgian etc) which traditionally served in colonies or on distant expeditions although French nations soon appeared in Foreign Legion colours “for a number of reasons”.  The noun legionnaire from the French légionnaire dates from 1818.  The most famous modern association is Legionnaires' Disease, caused by Legionella pneumophilia, named after the lethal outbreak in July 1976 at the American Legion convention in Philadelphia's Bellevue Stratford Hotel, Legionella thus becoming the name of the bacterium.  The cause of the outbreak was traced to water used in the building’s air-conditioning systems.

The Bellevue Stratford and Legionella pneumophilia

The origin of Legionnaires’ disease (Legionella pneumophilia) was in the bacterium resident in the air-conditioning cooling towers of the Bellevue Stratford Hotel in Philadelphia which in July 1976 was hosting the Bicentennial convention of the American Legion, an association of service veterans; the bacterium was subsequently named Legionella.

The Bellevue-Stratford Hotel, 1905.

The Legionella bacterium occurs naturally and there had before been outbreaks of what came to be called Legionella pneumophilia,(a pneumonia-like condition) most notably in 1968 but what made the 1976 event different was the scale and severity which attracted investigation and a review of the records which suggested the first known case in the United States dated from 1957.  Like HIV/AIDS, it was only when critical mass was reached that it became identified as something specific and there’s little doubt there may have been instances of Legionella pneumophilia for decades or even centuries prior to 1957.  The increasing instance of the condition in the late twentieth century is most associated with the growth in deployment of a particular vector of transmission: large, distributed air-conditioning systems.  Until the Philadelphia outbreak, the cleaning routines required to maintain these systems wasn’t well-understood and indeed, the 1976 event wasn’t even the first time the Bellevue Stratford had been the source two years earlier when it was the site of a meeting of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows but in that case, fewer than two-dozen were infected and only two fatalities whereas over two-hundred Legionnaires became ill thirty-four died.  Had the 1976 outbreak claimed only a handful, it’s quite likely it too would have passed unnoticed.

Winter Evening, Bellevue-Stratford Hotel, circa 1910 by Charles Cushing (b 1959).

That the 1976 outbreak was on the scale it was certainly affected the Bellevue-Stratford.  Built in the Philadelphia CBD on the corner of Broad and Walnut Streets in 1904, it was enlarged in 1912 and, at the time, was among the most impressive and luxurious hotels in the world.  Noted especially for a splendid ballroom and the fine fittings in its thousand-odd guest rooms, it instantly became the city’s leading hotel and a centre for the cultural and social interactions of its richer citizens.  Its eminence continued until during the depression of the 1930s, it suffered the fate of many institutions associated with wealth and conspicuous consumption, its elaborate form not appropriate in a more austere age.  As business suffered, the lack of revenue meant it was no longer possible to maintain the building and the tarnish began to overtake the glittering structure.

The Bellevue Hotel Ballroom.

Although the ostentation of old never quite returned, in the post-war years, the Bellevue-Stratford did continue to operate as a profitable hotel until an international notoriety was gained in July 1976 with the outbreak of the disease which would afflict over two-hundred and, ultimately, strike down almost three dozen of the conventioneers who had been guests.  Once the association with the hotel’s air-conditioning became known, bookings plummeted precipitously and before the year was out, the Stratford ceased operations although there was a nod to the architectural significance, the now deserted building was in 1977 listed on the US National Register of Historic Places.

The Bellevue Hotel XIX Restaurant.

The lure of past glories was however strong and in 1978-1979, after being sold, a programme described as a restoration rather than a refurbishment was undertaken, reputedly costing a then impressive US$25 million, the press releases at the time emphasizing the attention devoted to the air-conditioning system.  The guest rooms were entirely re-created, the re-configuration of the floors reducing their number to under six-hundred and the public areas were restored to their original appearance.  However, for a number of reasons, business never reached the projected volume and not in one year since re-opening did the place prove profitable, the long-delayed but inevitable closure finally happening in March 1986.

The Bellevue Hotel Lobby.

But, either because or in spite of the building being listed as a historic place, it still attracted interest and, after being bought at a knock-down price, another re-configuration was commenced, this time to convert it to the now fashionable multi-function space, a mix of retail, hotel and office space, now with the inevitable fitness centre and food court.  Tellingly, the number of hotel rooms was reduced fewer than two-hundred but even this proved a challenge for operators profitably to run and in 1996, Hyatt took over.  Hyatt, although for internal reasons shuffling the property within their divisions and rebranding it to avoid any reference to the now troublesome Stratford name, benefited from the decision by the city administration to re-locate Philadelphia’s convention centre from the outskirts to the centre and, like other hotels in the region, enjoyed a notable, and profitable, increase in demand.  It’s now called simply: The Bellevue Hotel.

The Bellevue Hotel.

Understandably, the Bellevue’s page on Hyatt’s website, although discussing some aspects of the building’s history such as having enjoyed a visit from every president since Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US president 1901-1909) and the exquisitely intricate lighting system designed by Thomas Edison (1847-1931) himself, neglects even to allude to the two outbreaks of Legionnaires’ disease in the 1970s, the sale in 1976 noted on the time-line without comment.  In a nice touch, guests may check in with up to two dogs, provided they don't exceed the weight limit 50 lb (22.67 kg) pounds individually or 75 lb (34 kg) combined.  Part of the deal includes a “Dog on Vacation” sign which will be provided when registering; it's to hang on the doorknob so staff know what's inside and there's a dog run at Seger Park, a green space about a ½ mile (¾ km) from the hotel.  Three days notice is required if staying with one or two dogs and, if on a leash, they can tour the Bellevue's halls but they're not allowed on either the ballroom level or the 19^th floor where the XIX restaurant is located.  A cleaning fee (US$100) is added for stays of up to six nights, with an additional deep-cleaning charge applicable for 7-30 nights.

Lindsay Lohan with some of the legion of paparazzi who, despite technical progress which has disrupted the primacy of their role as content providers in the celebrity ecosystem, remain still significant players in what is a symbiotic process.

Cadillac advertising, 1958.

Cadillac in 1958 knew their buyer profile and their agency’s choice of the Bellevue Stafford as a backdrop reflected this.  They knew also to whom they were talking, thus the copywriters coming up with: “Not long after a motorist takes delivery of his new Cadillac, he discovers that the car introduces him in a unique manner.  Its new beauty and elegance, for instance, speak eloquently of his taste and judgment.  Its new Fleetwood luxury indicates his consideration for his passengers.  And its association with the world’s leading citizens acknowledges his standing in the world of affairs.”  That’s just how things were but as the small-print (bottom left of image) suggest, women did have their place as Cadillac accessories, a number of them in the photograph to look decorative in their “gowns by Nan Duskin”.  Lithuania-born Nan Duskin Lincoln (1893-1980) in 1926 opened her eponymous fashion store on the corner of 18^th & Sansom Streets and enjoyed such success she was soon able to purchase three buildings on Walnut Stereet which she converted into her flagship and for years it was an internationally-renowned fashion mecca.  Ms Duskin was unusual in that despite have never been educated beyond the sixth grade, she was an advocate for fashion being taught at universities and while that may not seem revolutionary in an age when it’s probably possible to take a post-graduate degree in basket weaving, it was at the time a novel idea.  She worked as a lecturer in design and criticism at Drexel University, the institution later establishing the Nan Duskin Laboratory of Costume Design.  It was said of Ms Duskin that when she selected a wedding dress for brides-to-be, almost invariably they were delighted by the suggestion though she would lament the young ladies were not always so successful in their choice of grooms.

Nan Duskin brochure, 1942; While fashions change, slenderness never goes out of style and these designs are classic examples of “timeless lines”.  Presumably, this brochure was printed prior to the imposition of wartime restrictions which resulted in such material being restricted to single color, printed on low-quality newsprint. 

Responsible for bringing to Philadelphia the work of some European couture houses sometimes then not seen even in New York, there was nobody more responsible for establishing the city as a leading centre of fashion before her semi-retirement in 1958 when she sold her three stores to the Dietrich Foundation.  Unashamedly elitist and catering only to the top-end of the market (rather like Cadillac in the 1950s), her stores operated more like salons than retail outlets and while things for a while continued in that vein after 1958, the world was changing and while the “best labels” continued to be stocked, the uniqueness gradually was dissipated until it was really just another store, little different from the many which had sought to emulate the model.  In 1994, Nan Duskin filed for Chapter 11 Bankruptcy (which enables to troubled companies to continue trading while re-structuring) but the damage was done and in 1995 the businesses were closed.  Nothing lasts forever and it’s tempting to draw a comparison with the way Cadillac “lost its way” during the 1980s & 1990s.

Tatterdemalion

Tatterdemalion (pronounced tat-er-di-meyl-yuhn or tat-er-di-mal-yuhn)

(1) A person in tattered clothing; a shabby person.

(2) Ragged; unkempt or dilapidated.

(3) In fashion, (typically as “a tatterdemalion dress” etc), garments styled deliberately frayed or with constructed tears etc (also described as “distressed” or “destroyed”).

(4) A beggar (archaic).

1600–1610: The original spelling was tatter-de-mallian (the “demalion” rhymed with “Italian” in English pronunciation), the construct thus tatter + -demalion, of uncertain origin although the nineteenth century English lexicographer Ebenezer Cobham Brewer (1810-1897) (remembered still for his marvelous Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (1894) suggested it might be from de maillot (shirt) which does seem compelling.  Rather than the source, tatter is thought to have been a back-formation from tattered, from the Middle English tatered & tatird, from the Old Norse tǫturr.  Originally, it was derived from the noun, but it was later re-analysed as a past participle (the construct being tatter +‎ -ed) and from this came the verb.  As a noun a tatter was "a shred of torn cloth or an individual item of torn and ragged clothing" while the verb implied both (as a transitive) "to destroy an article of clothing by shredding" & (as an intransitive) "to fall into tatters".  Tatterdemalion is a noun & adjective and tatterdemalionism is a noun; the noun plural is tatterdemalions.

In parallel, there was also the parallel "tat", borrowed under the Raj from the Hindi टाट (ṭāṭ) (thick canvas) and in English it assumed a variety of meanings including as a clipping of tattoo, as an onomatopoeia referencing the sound made by dice when rolled on a table (and came to be used especially of a loaded die) and as an expression of disapprobation meaning “cheap and vulgar”, either in the context of low-quality goods or sleazy conduct.  The link with "tatty" in the sense of “shabby or ragged clothing” however apparently comes from tat as a clipping of the tatty, a woven mat or screen of gunny cloth made from the fibre of the Corchorus olitorius (jute plant) and noted for it loose, scruffy-looking weave.  Tatterdemalion is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is tatterdemalions.  The historic synonyms were shoddy, battered, broken, dilapidated, frayed, frazzled, moth-eaten, ragged, raggedy, ripped, ramshackle, rugged, scraggy, seedy, shabby, shaggy, threadbare, torn & unkempt and in the context of the modern fashion industry, distressed & destroyed.  An individual could also be described as a tramp, a ragamuffin, a vagabond, a vagrant, a gypsy or even a slum, some of those term reflecting class and ethnic prejudice or stereotypes.  Historically, tatterdemalion was also a name for a beggar.

A similar word in Yiddish was שמאַטע‎ (shmate or shmatte and spelled variously as schmatte, schmata, schmatta, schmate, schmutter & shmatta), from the Polish szmata, of uncertain origin but possibly from szmat (a fair amount).  In the Yiddish (and as adopted in Yinglish) it meant (1) a rag, (2) a piece of old clothing & (3) in the slang of the clothing trade, any item of clothing.  That was much more specific than the Polish szmata which meant literally "rag or old, ripped piece of cloth" but was used also figuratively to mean "publication of low journalistic standard" (ie analogous the English slang use of "rag") and in slang to refer to a woman of loose virtue (used as skank, slut etc might be used in English), a sense which transferred to colloquial use in sport to mean "simple shot", "easy goal" etc.

Designer distress: Lindsay Lohan illustrates the look.

Tatterdemalion is certainly a spectrum condition (the comparative “more tatterdemalion”; the superlative “most tatterdemalion”) and this is well illustrated by the adoption of the concept by fashionistas, modern capitalism soon there to supply demand.  In the fashion business, tatterdemalion needs to walk a fine line because tattiness was historically associated with poverty while designers need to provide garments which convey a message wealth.  The general terms for such garments is “distressed” although “destroyed” is (rather misleadingly) also used.

Highly qualified content provider Busty Buffy (b 1996) in “cut-off” denim shorts with leather braces while beltless.

The ancestor of designer tatterdemalion was a pair of “cut off” denim shorts, improvised not as a fashion statement but as a form of economy, gaining a little more life from a pair of jeans which had deteriorated beyond the point where mending was viable.  Until the counter-culture movements of the 1960s (which really began the previous decade but didn’t until the 1960s assume an expression in mass-market fashion trends), wearing cut-off jeans or clothing obviously patched and repaired generally was a marker of poverty although common in rural areas and among the industrial working class where it was just part of life.  It was only in the 1960s when an anti-consumerist, anti materialist vibe attracted the large cohort of youth created by the post-war “baby boom” that obviously frayed or torn clothing came to be an expression of disregard or even disdain for the prevailing standards of neatness (although paradoxically they were the richest “young generation” ever).  It was the punk movement in the 1970s which took this to whatever extremes seemed possible, the distinctive look of garments with rips and tears secured with safety pins so emblematic of (often confected) rebellion that in certain circles it remains to this day part of the “uniform”.  The fashion industry of course noted the trend and what would later be called “distressed” denim appeared in the lines of many mainstream manufacturers as early as the 1980s, often paired with the acid-washing and stone-washing which previously had been used to make a pair of jeans appear “older”, sometimes a desired look.

Dolce & Gabbana Distressed Jeans (part number FTCGGDG8ET8S9001), US$1150.

That it started with denim makes sense because it's the ultimate "classless" fabric in that it's worn by both rich and poor and while that has advantages for manufacturers, it does mean some are compelled to find ways to ensure buyers are able (blatantly or with some subtlety) to advertise what they are wearing is expensive; while no fashion house seems yet to have put the RRP (recommended retail price) on a leather patch, it may be only a matter of time.  The marketing of jeans which even when new gave the appearance of having been “broken in” by the wearer was by the 1970s a define niche, the quasi-vintage look of “fade & age” achieved with processes such as stone washing, enzyme washing, acid washing, sandblasting, emerizing and micro-sanding but this was just to create an effect, the fabrics not ripped or torn.  Distressed jeans represented the next step in the normal process of wear, fraying hems and seams, irregular fading and rips & tears now part of the aesthetic.  As an industrial process that’s not difficult to do but if done in the wrong way it won’t resemble exactly a pair of jeans subject to gradual degradation because different legs would have worn the denim at different places.  In the 2010s, the look spread to T-shirts and (predictably) hoodies, some manufacturers going beyond mere verisimilitude to (sort of) genuine authenticity, achieving the desired decorative by shooting shirts with bullets, managing a look which presumably the usual tricks of “nibbling & slashing” couldn’t quite emulate.  Warming to the idea, the Japanese label Zoo released jeans made from material torn by lions and tigers, the company anxious to mention the big cats in Tokyo Zoo seemed to "enjoy the fun" and to anyone who has seen a kitten with a skein of wool, that will sound plausible.  Others emulated the working-class look, the “caked-on muddy coating” and “oil and grease smears” another variant although one apparently short-lived; appearing dirty apparently never a fashionable choice.  All these looks had of course been seen for centuries, worn mostly by the poor with little choice but to eke a little more wear from their shabby clothes but in the late twentieth century, as wealth overtook Western society, the look was adopted by many with disposable income; firstly the bohemians, hippies and other anti-materialists before the punk movement which needed motifs with some capacity to shock, something harder to achieve than had once been the case.

Distressed top and bottom.  Gigi Hadid (b 1995) in distressed T-shirt and "boyfriend" jeans.

For poets and punks, improvising the look from the stocks of thrift shops, that was fine but for designer labels selling scruffy-looking jeans for four-figure sums, it was more of a challenge, especially as the social media generation had discovered that above all they liked authenticity and faux authenticity would not do, nobody wanting to look it to look they were trying too hard.  The might have seemed a problem, given the look was inherently fake but the aesthetic didn’t matter for its own sake, all that had to be denoted was “conspicuous consumption” (the excessive spending on wasteful goods as proof of wealth) and the juxtaposition of thousand dollar distressed jeans with the odd expensive accessory, achieved that and more, the discontinuities offering irony as a look.  The labels, the prominence of which remained a focus was enough for the message to work although one does wonder if any of the majors have been tempted to print a QR code on the back pocket, linked to the RRP because, what people are really trying to say is “My jeans cost US$1200”.

1962 AC Shelby American Cobra (CSX 2000), interior detail, 2016.

The value of selective scruffiness is well known in other fields.  When selling a car, usually a tatty interior greatly will depress the price (sometimes by more even than the cost of rectification).  However, if the tattiness is of some historic significance, it can add to car’s value, the best example being if the deterioration is part of a vehicle's provenance and proof of originality, a prized attribute to the segment of the collector market known as the “originally police”.  In 2016, what is recognized as the very first Shelby American AC Cobra (CSX 2000) sold for US$13.75 million, becoming the highest price realized at auction for what is classified as "American car".  Built in 1962, it was an AC Ace shipped to California without an engine (and apparently not AC's original "proof-of-concept" test bed which was fitted with one of the short-lived 221 cubic inch (3.6 litre) versions of Ford's new "thin-wall" Windsor V8) where the Shelby operation installed a 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) Windsor and the rest is history.  The tatterdemalion state of the interior was advertised as one of the features of the car, confirming its status as “an untouched survivor”.  Among Cobra collectors, patina caused by Carroll Shelby's (1923–2012) butt is a most valuable tatterdemalion.

Patina plus and beyond buffing out: Juan Manuel Fangio, Mercedes-Benz W196R Stromlinienwagen (Streamliner), British Grand Prix, Silverstone, 17 July 1954.

Also recommended to be repaired before sale are dents, anything battered unlikely to attract a premium.  However, if a dent was put there by a Formula One (F1) world champion, it becomes a historic artefact.  In 1954, Mercedes-Benz astounded all when their new grand prix car (the W196R) appeared with all-enveloping bodywork, allowed because of a since closed loophole in the rule-book.  The sensuous shape made the rest of the field look antiquated although underneath it was a curious mix of old and new, the fuel-injection and desmodromic valve train representing cutting edge technology while the swing axles and drum brakes spoke to the past and present, the engineers’ beloved straight-eight configuration (its last appearance in F1) definitely the end of an era.  On fast tracks like Monza, the aerodynamic bodywork delivered great speed and stability but the limitations were exposed when the team ran the Stromlinienwagen at tighter circuits and in the 1954 British Grand Prix at Silverstone, Juan Manuel Fangio (1911–1995; winner of five F1 world-championship driver's titles) managed to clout a couple of oil-drums (those and bails of hay how track safety was then done) because it was so much harder to determine the extremities without being able to see the front wheels.  Quickly, the factory concocted a functional (though visually unremarkable) open-wheel version and the sleek original was thereafter used only on the circuits where the highest speeds were achieved.  In 1954, the factory was unconcerned with the historic potential of the dents and repaired the tatterdemalion W196R so an artefact of the era was lost.  That apart, as used cars the W196s have held their value well, an open-wheel version selling at auction in 2013 for US$29.7 million while in 2025 a Stromlinienwagen realized US$53.9 million.  

1966 Ferrari 330 GTC (1966-1968) restored by Bell Sport & Classic.  Many restored Ferraris of the pre-1973 era are finished to a much higher standard than when they left the showroom.  Despite this, genuine, original "survivors" (warts and all) are much-sought in some circles.

In the collector car industry, tatterdemalion definitely is a spectrum condition and for decades the matter of patina versus perfection has been debated.  There was once the idea that in Europe the preference was for a vehicle to appear naturally aged (well-maintained but showing the wear of decades of use) while the US market leaned towards cars restored to the point of being as good (or better) than they were on the showroom floor.  Social anthropologists might have some fun exploring that perception of difference and it was certainly never a universal rule but the debate continues, as does the argument about “improving” on the original.  Some of the most fancied machinery of the 1950s and 1960s (notably Jaguars, Ferraris and Maseratis) is now a staple of the restoration business but, although when new the machines looked gorgeous, it wasn’t necessary to dig too deep to find often shoddy standards of finish, the practice at the time something like sweeping the dirt “under the rug”.  When "restored", many of these cars are re-built to a higher standard, what was often left rough because it sat unseen somewhere now smoothed to perfection.  That’s what some customers want and the best restoration shops can do either though there are questions about whether what might be described as “fake patina” is quite the done thing.  Mechanics and engineers who were part of building Ferraris in the 1960s, upon looking at some immaculately “restored” cars have been known wryly to remark: “that wasn't how we built them then.” 

Gucci offered Distressed Tights at US$190 (for a pair so quite good value).  Rapidly, they sold-out.

The fake patina business however goes back quite a way.  Among antique dealers, it’s now a definite niche but from the point at which the industrial revolution began to create a new moneyed class of mine and factory owners, there was a subset of the new money (and there are cynics who suggest it was mostly at the prodding of their wives) who wished to seem more like old money and a trend began to seek out “aged” furniture with which a man might deck out his (newly acquired) house to look as if things had been in the family for generations.  The notoriously snobbish (and amusing) diarist Alan Clark (1928–1999) once referred to someone as looking like “they had to buy their own chairs”, prompting one aristocrat to respond: “That’s a bit much from someone whose father (the art historian and life peer Kenneth Clark (1903–1983)) had to buy his own castle.”  The old money were of course snooty about the such folk and David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922) would lament many of the “jumped-up grocers” in his Liberal Party were more troublesome and less sympathetic to the troubles of the downtrodden than the "backwoodsmen" gentry in their inherited country houses.

Mourn

Mourn (pronounced mawrn or mohrn)

(1) To grieve or lament for the dead.

(2) To show the conventional or usual signs of sorrow over a person's death.

(3) To feel or express sorrow or grief over (misfortune, loss, or anything regretted); to deplore (now restricted mostly to literary or poetic use).

(4) To utter in a sorrowful manner.

(5) To observe the customs of mourning, as by wearing black garments (sables).

(6) In jousting, a ring fitted upon the head of a lance to prevent wounding an adversary in tilting (a charging with a lance).

Pre 900: From the Middle English mournen & mornen, from the Old English murnan (to feel or express sorrow, grief, or regret; bemoan, long after and also “be anxious about, be careful” (past tense: mearn, past participle: murnen), from the Proto-Germanic murnaną & murnan (sorrowfully to remember)  It was cognate with the Old High German mornēn (to be troubled), the Old Norse morna (to pine away. also “to dawn (become morning)”), the Greek mermeros (worried), the Gothic maurnan (to grieve) and the French morne (gloomy).  The proto-Germanic was the source also of the Old Saxon mornon and was probably a suffixed form of the primitive Indo-European root mer & smer- (to remember).  The use to mean “to lament the death of” emerged late in the thirteenth century while the sense of “display the conventional appearance of grieving for a period following the death of someone” was in use by the 1520s.  The noun mourning (feeling or expression of sorrow, sadness, or grief) was in use in the late twelfth century and was from the Old English murnung (complaint, grief, act of lamenting), a verbal noun from the verb mourn.  The meaning “customary dress or garment worn by mourners” dates from the 1650s although mourning habit was in use in the late fourteenth century.  The North American mourning dove was named in 1820 and was so-called because of its soulful call.  The adjective mournful (expressing sorrow; oppressed with grief) came into use in the early 1600s.  The spelling morne was used during the fourteenth & fifteenth centuries.  Mourn & mourned are verbs, mourning is a noun & verb, mourner & mournfulness are nouns, mournful is an adjective and mournfully is an adverb; the noun plural is mourners.

Comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953, far right) as chief mourner, carrying the coffin of comrade Sergei Kirov (1886–1934; Russian Bolshevik revolutionary & Soviet politician), Moscow 6 December 1934.

Although no documentary evidence has ever been found, most historians believe the execution was approved by comrade Stalin and in a nice touch, within a month, Kirov's assassins were convicted in a show trial and executed.  As the death toll from the purges of the 1930s accelerated, comrade Stalin stopped attending funerals; he just wouldn't have ben able to find the time.  Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) seems not to have appeared as a mourner at the funerals of any of those he’d ordered killed but he certainly issued statements mourning their passing.  Less ominously, UK Prime Minister Lord Salisbury (Robert Arthur Talbot Gascoyne-Cecil, 1830–1903; UK Prime Minister for thirteen years variously 1885-1902) remarked of the long, sad decline of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895) that the deceased had proved to be “chief mourner at his own protracted funeral”.

Political mourning is a special class of lament and when some politicians are buried, their erstwhile colleagues are among the mourners only because such events are a nice photo-opportunity and a useful place for a bit of networking.  The Australian politician Pat Kennelly (1900–1981; senator for Victoria (Australian Labor Party (ALP)) 1953-1971) (who had a chronic stutter) once attended the funeral of a member of parliament (MP).  It was well-attended event with many mourners and later he was heard to observe: “It w-w-w-a-as a v-v—very s-s-sa-ad occasion.  H-h-his w-w-wi-wife and f-f-f-family were there.  There was not a d-d-dry eye in the ce-ce-cemetery.  E-e-everyone w-a-was in t-t-t-tears.  As I w-w-w-watched them f-f-file out of th-th-the ce-ce-cemetery I th-th-thought h-h-how s-s—sad.  Th-th-three h-h—hundred m-m-mourners with a s-s-single th-th-thought: ‘Wh-h-ho’s g-g-oing to w-w-win the pre-pre-pre-selection f-f-for his s-s-seat?’”

Potential gig: Lindsay Lohan in mourning garments (sables), Sohu Fashion Achievement Awards Ceremony, Shanghai, China, January, 2014.  Acting is of course a good background for a professional mourner and the career part is sometimes available to even the well-known because their presence at a funeral would be an indicator of the wealth of the deceased.

Culturally, the mourners at one’s funeral can matter because their measure in both quantity & quality greatly can influence how one is remembered and to some (and certainly their surviving friends & family), greatly that matters.  While it’s true that once one is dead, that’s it, the memory others have of one is affected by whether one drank oneself to death, was struck by a meteorite or murdered by the Freemasons and the spectacle of one’s funeral also leaves a lasting impression.  A funeral with a scant few mourners presumably says much about the life of the deceased but for those facing that, there’s the ancient tradition of the professional mourners (known in some places as moirologists, sobbers, wailers, or criers.  In South Africa, those after greater drama can hire someone hysterically to cry and threaten to jump into the grave to join the departed forever wherever they’re going (it’s said this is an “extra-cost” service).

There is reference in both the Old and New Testaments to the profession: In 2 Samuel 14 it was recorded: “…and fetched thence a wise woman, and said unto her, I pray thee, feign thyself to be a mourner, and put on now mourning apparel, and anoint not thyself with oil but as a woman that had a long time mourned the dead.”  It does seem the practice of paid mourning began in China or the Middle East but it was a thing also in ancient Egypt and Rome.  In Egypt, it was actually a formalized part of the ritual (at least for the urban wealthy) in that part of the order of service required the family to pay for the provision of “two professional women mourners”, there as representatives of the psychopomps ( conductors of souls to the afterworld) Isis (inter alia the guardian deity who protected her followers in life and in the afterlife) and her sister Nephtys (protector of the deceased and guardian of the dead).

In Rome, it was more an expression of conspicuous consumption and the more rich or more illustrious a celebrity someone had been while walking the Earth, the better attended and more ostentatious would be the funeral procession, professional mourners making up usually a goodly proportion of the count.  They earned their money because the cultural expectation was they were expected to cry and wail, look distraught, tear at their hair and clothes and scratch their faces with their fingernails, the drawing of a little blood a sign of grief; the more professional mourners in a procession, the higher the implied status of the deceased.  Historically (and apparently cross-culturally), professional mourners have tended to be women because such displays of emotions from them were accepted in a way that wouldn’t have been accepted if exhibited by a man.

Anonymuncule

Anonymuncule (pronounced uh-non-uh-monk-u-elle)

An insignificant, anonymous writer

1859: A portmanueau word, the construct being anony(mous) + (ho)muncule.  Homnuncle was from the Latin homunculus (a little man), a diminutive of homō (man).  Anonymous entered English circa 1600 and was from the Late Latin anonymus, from the Ancient Greek ᾰ̓νώνῠμος (anṓnumos) (without name), the construct being ᾰ̓ν- (an-) (“not; without; lacking” in the sense of the negating “un-”) + ὄνῠμᾰ (ónuma), an Aeolic & Doric dialectal form of ὄνομᾰ (ónoma) (name).  The construct of the English form was an- +‎ -onym +‎ -ous.  The an- prefix was an alternative form of on-, from the Middle English an-, from the Old English an- & on- (on-), from the Proto-Germanic ana- (on).   It was used to create words having the sense opposite to the word (or stem) to which the prefix is attached; it was used with stems beginning either with vowels or "h".  The element -onym (word; name) came from the international scientific vocabulary, reflecting a New Latin combining form, from Ancient Greek ὄνυμα (ónuma).  The –ous suffix was from the Middle English -ous, from the Old French –ous & -eux, from the Latin -ōsus (full, full of); a doublet of -ose in an unstressed position.  It was used to form adjectives from nouns to denote (1) possession of (2) presence of a quality in any degree, commonly in abundance or (3) relation or pertinence to.  In chemistry, it has a specific technical application, used in the nomenclature to name chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a lower oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ic.  For example, sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  The Latin homunculus (plural homunculi) enjoyed an interesting history.  In medieval medicine, it was used in the sense of “a miniature man”, a creature once claimed by the spermists (once a genuine medical speciality) to be present in human sperm while in modern medicine the word was resurrected for the cortical homunculus, an image of a person with the size of the body parts distorted to represent how much area of the cerebral cortex of the brain is devoted to it (ie a “nerve map” of the human body that exists on the parietal lobe of the human brain).  Anonymuncule is a noun; the noun plural is anonymuncules.

Preformationism: Homunculi in sperm (1695) illustrated by Nicolaas Hartsoeker who is remembered also as the inventor in 1694 of the screw-barrel simple microscope.

Like astrology, alchemy once enjoyed a position of orthodoxy among scientists and it was the alchemists who first popularized homunculus, the miniature, fully formed human, a concept with roots in both folklore and preformationism (in biology. the theory that all organisms start their existence already in a predetermined form upon conception and this form does not change in the course of their lifetime (as opposed to epigenesis (the theory that an organism develops by differentiation from an unstructured egg rather than by simple enlarging of something preformed)).  It was Paracelsus (the Swiss physician, alchemist, lay theologian, and philosopher of the German Renaissance Theophrastus von Hohenheim (circa 1493-1541)) who seems to have been the first to use the word in a scientific paper, it appearing in his De homunculis (circa 1529–1532), and De natura rerum (1537).  As the alchemists explained, a homunculus (an artificial humanlike being) could be created through alchemy and in De natura rerum Paracelsus detailed his method.

A writer disparaged as an anonymuncule differs from one who publishes their work anonymously or under a pseudonym, the Chicago Tribune in 1871 explaining the true anonymuncule was a “little creature who must not be confounded with the anonymous writers, who supply narratives or current events, and discuss public measures with freedom, but deal largely in generalities, and very little in personalities.”  That was harsh but captures the place the species enjoy in the literary hierarchy (and it’s a most hierarchal place). Anonymuncules historically those writers who publish anonymously or under pseudonyms, without achieving renown or even recognition and there’s often the implication they are “mean & shifty types” who “hide behind their anonymity”.

Primary Colors: A Novel of Politics (1996), before and after the lifting of the veil.

Some however have good and even honourable reasons for hiding behind their anonymity although there is also sometime mere commercial opportunism.  When former Time columnist Joe Klein (born 1946) published Primary Colors: A Novel of Politics (1996), the author was listed as “anonymous”, a choice made to avoid the political and professional risks associated with openly critiquing a sitting president and his administration.  Primary Colors was a (very) thinly veiled satire of Bill Clinton’s (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) 1992 presidential campaign and offered an insider's view of campaign life, showing both the allure and moral compromises involved.  By remaining anonymous, Klein felt more able candidly to discuss the ethical dilemmas and personal shortcomings of his characters, something that would have been difficult has his identity been disclosed, the conflicts of interest as a working political journalist obvious.  Critically and commercially, the approach seems greatly to have helped the roman à clef (a work of fiction based on real people and events) gain immediate notoriety, the speculation about the author’s identity lying at the core of the book’s mystique.  Others have valued anonymity because their conflicts of interest are insoluble.  Remarkably, Alfred Deakin (1856-1919; prime minister of Australia 1903-1904, 1905-1908 & 1909-1910) even while serving as prime-minister, wrote political commentaries for London newspapers including the National Review & Morning Post and, more remarkably still, some of his pieces were not uncritical of both his administration and his own performance in office.  Modern politicians should be encouraged to pursue this side-gig; it might teach them truthfulness and encourage them more widely to practice it.

For others, it can be a form of pre-emptive self defense.  The French philosopher Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet; 1694–1778) wrote under a nom de plume because he held (and expressed) views which often didn’t please kings, bishops and others in power and this at a time when such conduct was likely to attract persecution worse than censorship or disapprobation.  Mary Ann Evans (1819–1880) adopted the pseudonym George Eliot in an attempt to ensure her works would be taken seriously, avoiding the stigma associated with female authorship at the time.  George Eliot’s style of writing was however that of a certain sort of novelist and those women who wrote in a different manner were an accepted part of the literary scene and although Jane Austen’s name never appeared on her published works, when Sense and Sensibility (1811) appeared its author was listed as “A Lady”.  Although a success, all her subsequent novels were billed as: “By the author of Sense and Sensibility”, Austen's name never appearing on her books during her lifetime.  Ted Kaczynski (1942-2023), the terrorist and author of the Unabomber Manifesto (1995) had his own reasons (wholly logical but evil) for wanting his test to be read but his identity as the writer to remain secret.

Nazi poetry circle at the Berghof: Left to right, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), Martin Bormann (1900–1945), Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945), and Baldur von Schirach (1907-1974; head of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth) 1931-1940 & Gauleiter (district party leader) and Reichsstatthalter (Governor) of Vienna (1940-1945)), Berchtesgaden, Bavaria, Germany, 1936.  Of much, all were guilty as sin but von Schirach would survive to die in his bed at 67.

The "poet manqué" is a somewhat related term.  A poet manqué is an aspiring poet who never produced a single book of verse (although it’s used also of an oeuvre so awful it should never have been published and the poetry of someone Baldur von Schirach comes to mind.  The adjective manqué entered English in the 1770s and was used originally in the sense of “unfulfilled due to the vagary of circumstance, some inherent flaw or a constitutional lack”.  Because it’s so often a literary device, in English, the adjective does often retain many grammatical features from French, used postpositively and taking the forms manquée when modifying a feminine noun, manqués for a plural noun, and manquées for a feminine plural noun.  That’s because when used in a literary context (“poet manqué”, “novelist manqué” et all) users like it to remain inherently and obviously “French” and thus it’s spelled often with its diacritic (the accent aigu (acute accent): “é”) although when used casually (to suggest “having failed, missed, or fallen short, especially because of circumstances or a defect of character”) as “fly-half manqué”, “racing driver manqué” etc), the spelling manque” is sometimes used.

Manqué (that might have been but is not) was from the French manqué, past participle form of the sixteenth century manquer (to lack, to be lacking in; to miss), from the Italian mancare, from manco, from the Latin mancus (maimed, defective), from the primitive Indo-European man-ko- (maimed in the hand), from the root man- (hand).  Although it’s not certain, the modern slang adjective “manky” (bad, inferior, defective (the comparative mankier, the superlative mankiest)), in use since the late 1950s, may be related.  Since the 1950s, the use in the English-speaking world (outside of North America) has extended to “unpleasantly dirty and disgusting” with a specific use by those stationed in Antarctica where it means “being or having bad weather”.  The related forms are the noun mankiness and the adverb mankily.  Although it’s not an official part of avian taxonomy, bird-watchers (birders) in the UK decided “manky mallard” was perfect to describe a mallard bred from wild mallards and domestic ducks (they are distinguished by variable and uneven plumage patterns).  However, it’s more likely manky is from the UK slang mank which was originally from Polari mank and used to mean “disgusting, repulsive”.

No poet manqué:  In January 2017, Lindsay Lohan posted to Instagram a poem for her 5.2 million followers, the verse a lament of the excesses of IS (the Islamic State), whetting the appetite for the memoir which might one day appear (hopefully "naming names").  The critical reaction to the poem was mixed but the iambic pentameter in the second stanza attracted favorable comment:

sometimes i hear the voice of the one i loved the most
but in this world we live in of terror
who i am to be the girl who is scared and hurt
when most things that happen i cannot explain
i try to understand
when i'm sitting in bed alone at 3am
so i can't sleep, i roll over
i can't think and my body becomes cold
i immediately feel older.....
 
than i realise, at least i am in a bed,
i am still alive,
so what can really be said?
just go to bed and close the blinds,
still and so on, i cannot help but want to fix all of these idle isis
minds
because,
there has to be something i can figure out
rather than living in a world of fear and doubt
they now shoot, we used to shout.
 
if only i can keep trying to fix it all
i would keep the world living loving and small
i would share my smiles
and give too Many kisses