Holy

Holy (pronounced hoh-lee)

(1) Specially recognized as or declared sacred by religious use or authority; consecrated.

(2) Dedicated or devoted to the service of God, the church, or religion; godly, or virtuous; of, relating to, or associated with God or a deity; sacred.

(3) Saintly; godly; pious; devout; having a spiritually pure quality; endowed or invested with extreme purity or sublimity.

(4) Entitled to worship or veneration as or as if sacred.

(5) A place of worship; sacred place; sanctuary.

(6) Inspiring fear, awe, or grave distress (archaic).

Pre 900: From the Middle English holi & hali, from the Old English hālig, hāleġ & hǣlig, (holy, consecrated, sacred, venerated, godly, saintly, ecclesiastical, pacific, tame), a variant of the Old English hālig, hǣlig & hāleg, the construct being hāl (whole) + -eg (-y), from the Proto-West Germanic hailag, from Proto-Germanic hailaga & hailagaz (holy, bringing health).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon hēlag, the Gothic hailags the Dutch & German heilig, the Old Frisian helich and the Old Norse heilagr.  Ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European kóhzilus (healthy, whole).  It was adopted at conversion for the Latin sanctus although the Middle English form emerged as holi which remained a common spelling until the sixteenth century.  Holy is a nown & adjective. holiness (the spellings holinesse, holyness & holynesse all obsolete) is a noun and holier & holiest are adjectives; the noun plural is holies.  The noun holiosity is non-standard and is used in humor when referring to those for who religion has become an obsession and often one they think should be imposed on others.

Lindsay Lohan bringing holiness, Machete (2010).  The weapon is a Smith & Wesson .50 Magnum revolver with 8" barrel (S&W500: SKU 163501).

The primary (pre-Christian) meaning is not possible to determine; documentary evidence simply doesn’t exist but most think it probably meant something like “that must be preserved whole or intact, that cannot be transgressed or violated” and was connected with the Old English hal (health) and the Old High German heil (health, happiness, good luck (source of the German salutation Heil which became so well-known in the 1930s)).  Holy water was in Old English and holy has been used as an intensifying word from 1837 and used in expletives since the 1880s; a “holy terror” generally meaning “a difficult or frightening person” but which in Irish informal use means a man thought a habitual gambler, womanizer etc.  The adjectival forms are holier (comparative) & holiest (superlative) while the noun plural is holies but “the holy” functions as a plural when referring to persons or things (eh holy relics) invested with holiness.  When used in a religious context, it’s common to use an initial capital and probably obligatory when referencing the Christian God, or Christ.  The old alternative spellings holi, hali, holie & hooly are all obsolete.  Words that depending on context may be synonymous or merely related include divine, hallowed, humble, pure, revered, righteous, spiritual, sublime, believing, clean, devotional, faithful, good, innocent, moral, perfect, upright, angelic, blessed & chaste.

The Old Testament's Book of Leviticus is regarded by many as a long list of proscriptions, noted especially for the things declared an abomination to the Lord and within the text (Leviticus 17-26) that surprisingly succinct list is known as the “Holiness code” (often referred to in biblical scholarship as the “H texts”), "Holy" in this context understood as “set apart”.  The Holiness code exists explicitly as the set of fundamental rules which the ancient Israelites were required to follow believed they had to follow in order to be close to God and in that sense are the foundational basis for all the moral imperatives in scripture.  What makes them especially interesting historically is the suggestion by a number of scholars that additional laws, written in a style discordant with the rest of the Holiness Code yet in accord with the remainder of Leviticus, were interpolated into the code by a later priest or priests, notably some concerning matters of ritual and procedure hardly in keeping with high moral tone of the apparently original entries.  The contested passages include:

The prohibition against an anointed high priest uncovering his head or rending his clothes (21:10).

The prohibition against offerings by Aaronic priests who are blemished (21:21–22).

The order to keep the sabbath, passover, and feast of unleavened bread (23:1–10a).

The order to keep Yom Kippur, and Sukkot (23:23–44).

The order for continual bread and oil (24:1–9).

Case law concerning a blasphemer (24:10–15a and 24:23).

The order for a trumpet sounding on Yom Kippur (25:9b).

Rules concerning redeeming property (25:23 and 25:26–34).

Order to release Israelite slaves at the year of jubilee (25:40, 25:42, 25:44–46).

Rules concerning redeeming people (25:48–52, and 25:54).

The Holy Alliance

The Holy Alliance (styled in some contemporary documents as “The Grand Alliance”) was something not quite a treaty yet more than a modus vivendi (memorandum of agreement).  Executed soon after the conclusion of the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815), it linked three of the monarchist great states of Europe (Austria, Prussia, and Russia) and existed very much at the behest of Tsar Alexander I (1777–1825; Emperor of Russia from 1801-1825) who had observed the French Revolution (1789) and the convulsions which spread across the continent in its wake and, having little taste for the idea of the mob leading kings to their execution by the guillotine, sought an alliance which would hold in check the forces of secular liberalism.  It was a moment something like that noted by George VI (1895–1952; King of the United Kingdom 1936-1952) who, traveling through the Surrey countryside, pointed at Runnymede (where in 1215 the Magna Carta was forced on a reluctant King John (1166–1216; King of England 1199-1216), saying to his companion: "That's where the trouble started."  

The origin of the Holy Alliance, 1815.

The Tsar envisaged the UK being part of the Holy Alliance but Lord Castlereagh (1769–1822; UK foreign secretary 1812-1822) belonged to the long tradition of trying not become involved in European affairs unless necessary and called it “sublime mysticism and nonsense.”  The troubled Castlereagh committed suicide and in his papers there's no indication of the sense in which he used the word "sublime" but in late fourteenth century it was used as a verb meaning "alchemy".

So inconsequential did Castle think the treaty that he anyway recommended it be joined by the UK, a course of action the Cabinet declined to pursue and the supportive gesture of George IV (1762–1830; prince regent of the UK 1911-1820, king 1820-1830) adding his signature as King of Hanover had the most negligible political or military significance.  Despite London’s reserve, Austria, Prussia, Russia, & the UK did later in 1815 formalize the Quadruple Alliance which had for some time existed in effect to counter the military and revolutionary threat presented by the expansion of the First French Empire under Napoleon I (Napoleon Bonaparte, 1769–1821; First Consul of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815).  Although Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo wrote finis to that venture, the four powers thought the Quadruple Alliance a means by which the framework created by the Congress of Vienna might best be maintained as a stabilizing device so the state of European affairs might indefinitely be maintained, it’s last resort being the military apparatus which could be deployed to ensure something like the French Revolution couldn’t again happen.  Events seemed to move in the direction of the Holy Alliance when, in 1818, the Bourbon monarchy was restored to France under Louis XVIII (1755–1824; king of France 1814-1824 (but for the unfortunate hundred days in 1815 when he fled the advance of Napoleon)) and the Quadruple Alliance became the Quintuple.  However, the British, even then among the most constitutional of monarchies, never had much enthusiasm for the alliance's more illiberal actions but the four continental powers did impose their will, the Austrians in Italy in 1821 and the French two years later in Spain.  Despite those encouraging successes however, although not fully appreciated at the time, both the arrangement and the Holy Alliance became effectively defunct with the death of Alexander in 1825, the events in France in 1830 the final nail in the coffin.

Nevertheless, the Holy Alliance remains an interesting cul-de-sac in European history and one noted for (by diplomatic standards) the brevity of its three articles: (1) That all members are brethren, beholden when necessary to assist one another to protect religion, peace, and justice, (2) That the members are Christian nations who owe the treasure of their existence to God, and recommend to their subjects to enjoy God’s gifts, and exercise his principles and (3) That members agree this alliance shall utilize the principles of God and Christianity to shape the destinies of mankind over which they have influence.  One suspects Metternich (Prince Klemens von Metternich, 1773–1859, Austrian foreign minister 1809-1848, chancellor 1821-1848) and others might have shared Castlereagh’s opinion of the spiritual flavor of the Tsar’s wording but it was recognized by even the most cynical of pragmatists as at least potentially useful and was eventually signed by all European rulers except (1) the Prince Regent of the UK because of the cabinet’s opposition, (2) the Ottoman sultan who could hardly countenance such a Christian document and (3), the Pope in Rome, the papal councilors and bishops approving not at all of something which, for the sake of unanimity, embraced schism, heresy, and orthodoxy alike.  To the Holy See, these were the papers of politicians and thus the work of the Devil.

Whatever it wasn’t, the Holy Alliance was a symbol of the old social order and liberals viewed it with disdain, revolutionaries with hatred.  Although effectively it was in 1825 buried in the tomb of the dead Tsar, its spirit endured until the revolutions of 1848 and in a sense it continued to influence the actions of statesmen until the Crimean War (1853-1856).  That crafter of alliances, Prince Otto von Bismarck (1815–1898; Chancellor of the German Empire, 1871-1890), attracted to something so over-arching yet meaning so little, sort of resurrected it after the unification of Germany in 1871 but the withered idea of a unifying Christendom proved by the 1880s not strong enough to prevail over Austrian and Russian self-interest in the squabbles in the Balkans as the edges of the Ottoman Empire began to fray.

Of unholy alliances

As a footnote, the Holy Alliance left a linguistic legacy: the phrase “unholy alliance”.  Unholy alliance is used to describe a coalition formed between improbable and usually antagonistic parties, such arrangements often ad hoc and the product of circumstance rather than choice.  There need not be any religious or anti-religious element for it to be applied and it’s a companion term to “strange bedfellows” or “uneasy bedfellows”. 

There have been many instances of use and it appeared in the platform of the Progressive Party, formed by Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; US president 1901-1909) to contest the 1912 US presidential election: “To destroy this invisible government, to dissolve the unholy alliance between corrupt business and corrupt politics is the first task of the statesmanship of the day.”  A classic statement of the rationale came from Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) in 1941 when, after Germany invaded the Soviet Union (a unilateral repudiation of an earlier unholy alliance (the Nazi-Soviet pact of 1939) which was one of history’s more cynical arrangements between adversaries, both parties knowing it was being pursued for mutual advantage as a prelude to an eventual conflict between them), the UK suddenly had gained a wartime ally albeit one with which relations had been hardly friendly and often strained since the revolutions of 1917.  In a radio broadcast that evening Churchill announced: “No one has been a more consistent opponent of communism for the last twenty-five years. I will unsay no word I have spoken about it. But all this fades away before the spectacle which is now unfolding. The past, with its crimes, its follies, its tragedies, flashes away.… The Russian danger is therefore our danger, and the danger of the United States, just as the cause of any Russian fighting for hearth and house is the cause of free men and free peoples in every quarter of the globe.”  When one of his colleagues noted the queerness of him being the one to announce such an alliance, he remarked: “If Hitler invaded hell I would make at least a favorable reference to the devil in the House of Commons.”

Portrait of Clare Sheridan (then Ms Frewen) (1907), oil on canvas by Emil Fuchs (1866-1929) (left) and a sepia print of the younger Leon Trotsky (circa 1908) (right).  

Churchill didn’t approve of communism, his attitude hardened by the new regime in Moscow having murdered the last Tsar and his family.  Very much a monarchist (his wife once described him as “the last man in Europe who believes in the divine right of kings”), Churchill thus took a dim view of the Bolsheviks and while serving as Secretary of State for War and Air (1919–1921) was involved in the allied intervention supporting anti-Communist White forces in the Russian Civil War (1917-1922), his mood not improved when he learned his favorite cousin, the sculptor Clare Sheridan (1885–1970), had enjoyed a brief affair with comrade Leon Trotsky (1879-1940; founder of the Fourth International).  Whether he ever called Trotsky “the hairiest Bolshevik baboon of all” remains uncertain but it’s at least plausible and he would later tell his cousin “we shall never speak of this unpleasantness again”.  Her memories of the tryst remained fonder, recalling the time her lover had whispered: “a woman like you should be the whole world to a man.”  At least one “Bolshevik baboon” could be poetic.

By 1941, however bad he thought were the communists in Moscow, the Nazis in Berlin were worse so an alliance with the Soviet Union, unholy though it would have felt, Churchill welcomed with barely a qualm.  He was also more perceptive in his assessment of Russian resistance to the invasion than most military & political figures in London, Washington DC or Berlin, the consensus in those circles being the Red Army would be defeated within a few months.  Given the bloody purges comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) had committed against his military leadership and the poor performance of the Russian army against the Finns in 1940, the grim expectations weren’t unreasonable but Churchill offered good odds to anyone willing to take his bet: “I will bet you a Monkey to a Mousetrap that the Russians are still fighting, and fighting victoriously, two years from now.”  That was slang from the turf, a “Monkey” being a £500 wager and a “Mousetrap” a gold sovereign with a nominal value of £1 (ie odds of 500-1).  Unholy the alliance may have been and there were tensions throughout between Moscow, Washington & London but the need to defeat Nazism meant it survived long enough to fulfil its purpose before the Cold War became the world’s new primary political dynamic.

Statesman

Statesman (pronounced steyts-muhn)

(1) Certain politicians with a favorable reputation (a rare breed), especially those associated with international relations.

(2) A person (not of necessity an elected politician) experienced in the art & science of government or versed in the administration of government affairs, especially those involved in diplomacy.

(3) A product name used variously of such things as cars, ships and (especially) newspapers and periodicals.

1585–1595: A construct was state + s + -man, modeled on steersman (in nautical use, one who steers a ship or other vessel (the helmsman)).  State was from the early thirteen century Middle English noun stat, from both the Old French estat and the Latin status (manner of standing, attitude, position, carriage, manner, dress, apparel; and other senses), from stare (to stand); a doublet of estate and status.  The idea of “the polity” which evolved ultimately into the construct of the modern nation-state began to develop in fourteenth century Europe, notably the multi-entity Holy Roman Empire.  In other European languages, the comparable words were the French être, the Greek στέω (stéo), the Italian stare, the Portuguese estar, the Romanian sta, and the Spanish estar.  

The suffix –man developed from the noun and was applied describe (1) someone (the original implication obviously implied male) who is an expert in an area or who takes part in an activity, (2) someone employed or holds a position in an area, (3) someone possessing particular characteristics relating to a topic or area, (4) someone (in this case explicitly male) of a certain nationality or sub-national geographical identity (not a universal use which varied according to the structure of the root word (other suffixes including –an, -ian etc) or (5) in Admiralty jargon, a ship which has special characteristics relating to a trade or area (‎merchantman, ‎Greenlandman etc) which produced the amusing linguistic paradox of forms such as “she’s a merchantman” because of the convention ships were always referred to in the feminine.  Man was from the Middle English man, from the Old English mann (human being, person, man), from the Proto-West Germanic mann, from the Proto-Germanic mann-, from the primitive Indo-European mon- (human being, man”).

The derived form statesmanship described an idealized conception of how a politician should behave.  It's now less common, probably less so because the standard of politicians has so obviously declined than a reluctance to use a word thought gender-loaded; to say "statesmanship" might now be thought a micro-aggression.  The suffix -ship was from the Middle English -schipe & -shippe, from the Old English -sċiepe, from the Proto-West Germanic -skapi, from the Proto-Germanic -skapiz.  The equivalent forms in other languages included the Scots -schip, the West Frisian -skip, the Dutch -schap, the German -schaft, the Swedish -skap and the Icelandic -skapur.  It was appended to nouns to form a new noun denoting a property or state of being, time spent in a role, or a specialized union, a popular use being the way a set of social duties associated with a particular role shape or develop one's character (fellowship, ownership et al).  Other suffixes used for similar purposes (property or state of being) include -ness, -hood, -itude, -th, -ity & -dom.

Meeting a statesman: Lindsay Lohan meeting with Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (b 1954; prime-minister or president of the Republic of Türkiye since 2003), Presidential Palace, Ankara, Türkiye, 27 January 2017.

The informal noun superstatesman is used to refer to someone especially successful (especially in international relations) while to say of someone or their actions that they possess the quality of being unstatesmanlike, it’s a criticism which implies they have not reached the expected standard (ie they’re acting more like a politician).  The term "elder statesman" generally is used either of (1) a respected political leader (not of necessity all that elderly but usually retired or at least withdrawn from the controversies of front-line politics) or (2), by extension, a prominent and respected person in any field who usually is retired or inactive with their involvement restricted to commentaries.  Statesman & statesmanship are nouns and statesmanlike & statesmanly are adjectives; the noun plural is statesmen (except in commercial use when Statesman is used as a product name in which case the plural should be Statesmans (although Statesmen seems not uncommon)).  The feminine noun stateswoman and the gender-neutral statesperson are more recent creations (both with the same derived adjectives on the model of those from statesman) and notably used less frequently.

The usually told joke is that a statesman is a “dead politician” and there’s some element of truth in that because the reputation of politicians certainly seems often to improve once they’ve had the decency to drop dead.  Unfairly or not, politicians often are characterized those dedicated to the pursuit of power, advancing their own interests or those of their party and making decisions that cater to short-term political gains (although they also have a great interest in accumulating money and many taxpayers would be surprised to learn just how much of their money ends up each year in the bank accounts of politicians; such is the array of “allowances & entitlements” (often opaque and sometimes secret) that the total is some distance from their notional annual salary).  Anyway, because the focus of a politician is on winning elections and pursuing the agendas of whomever is funding them (or offering to in their post-political life), the term “politician” usually carries negative connotations, implying opportunism, manipulation and a lack of concern for anything except self-interest.  Old Jack Lang (1876–1975; Premier of New South Wales 1925-1927 & 1930-1932) used to tell the young seeking a career in politics his best advice was "...in any race, always back the horse called self-interest; it'll be the only one having a go."

Two statesmen meeting to discuss matters of common interest: Dr Henry Kissinger (b 1923; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977, left) and General Augusto Pinochet (1915-2006; dictator of Chile 1973-1990, right), Santiago, Chile, 1976. 

The term statesman carries usually positive connotations and is associated with someone in public life who has demonstrated wisdom, integrity and a vision which includes the interest of the public and this rare breed is characterized by their commitment to serving the greater good, often transcending narrow partisan interests in favor of broader national or societal goals.  It’s probably easier for a politician to be thought statesmanlike if they come into office having already established an illustrious reputation through pervious public service, such as Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961) who, before he entered the White House, was one of the nation’s most respected soldiers.  Actually, in the US where appointments to the cabinet don’t require election, it’s more likely one can be thought a statesman because one need never dirty one’s hands with the nasty business of electoral politics.  Serving as secretary of state for a scant twelve months between 1950-1951, General George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) is remembered as a “great statesman” because he looked the part and the Marshall Plan (the post-war re-financing of Europe with US dollars) bore his name although it was something he neither conceived, designed or administered.  Another of America’s chief diplomats, Dr Henry Kissinger, is still described by some as a “great statesman” (although many others prefer “war criminal”).  Certainly, politicians good and evil are aware that how they’re remembered is based on who gets to write the histories.  Late in World War II (1939-1945), when things really weren’t going well for the Nazis, Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945), well aware of the enormity of the crimes the regime (of which he was a prominent part) had committed and one of the few realists among a generally deluded lot, was said to have commented: “Either we are going to go down in history as the greatest statesmen of all time, or as the greatest criminals.”  Although that phrase has for decades been attributed to him, it’s not certain he used quite those words but his diary entries and collaborated contemporary testimony from others leave little doubt that was what was on his mind.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) had no doubt what qualities defined statesmanship.  In the prison diary assembled from the huge volume of fragments he had smuggled out of Spandau prison while serving the twenty year sentence he was lucky to receive for war crimes & crimes against humanity (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau, the Secret Diaries), pp 451 William Collins Inc, 1976), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) recounted one of the Führer's not infrequent monologues, a small part of which mentioned the matter:

“Whoever succeeds me must be sure to have an opening for a new war.  We never want a static situation where that sort of thing hangs in doubt In future peace treaties we must therefore always leave open a few questions that will provide a pretext.  Think of Rome and Carthage, for instance. A new war was always built right into every peace treaty. That's Rome for you! That's statesmanship.” 

The Holden Statesman

1971 Ford ZD Fairlane 500.  The industry legend was the development budget for the original ZA Fairlane in 1967 was "three quarters of four-fifths of fuck all".  Like the basic vehicle, the styling updates were borrowed from earlier US Fords so the effort required was about as minimal as the budget. 

Holden was the General Motors (GM) outpost in Australia and in the 1950s and 1960s, for a variety of reasons (not wholly related to the dynamic qualities of the cars they sold), the operation had been highly successful, for many years enjoying a market share as high as 50% odd.  By the early 1970s, increased competition had eroded Holden’s dominance although it remained the market leader in most sectors it contested with one exception: the executive sedan.  Ford in 1967 had effectively re-defined this market by conjuring up a long-wheelbase version of the mass-market Falcon which overnight rendered obsolete some of the antiquated British competition and provided an attractively less expensive alternative to the bigger Fords, Chevrolets, Pontiacs and Dodges, imported via Canada to take advantage of the lower tariffs imposed on products from the Commonwealth (the successor regime to the old imperial preference scheme).  Although well-suited to Australian conditions, the US cars were becoming increasingly expensive because of movements in the exchange rate (the Bretton-Woods system (1944) of “fixed” currency rates was more an interacting series of “managed floats”).  So, developed very cheaply with only detail changes and some (what now seems modest) bling, the elongated Falcon was in 1967 released under the Fairlane name (used earlier in Australia for both a full-sized and intermediate North American import) and it proved an instant success, selling not only in large numbers but with a profit margin unmatched in the local industry.  Of course, one victim of this success was Ford’s own imported Galaxie, sales of which slowed to a trickle, demand now restricted mostly to governments which admired the "statesmanlike" presence the big machines lent the politicians being chauffeured around.  The Galaxies would remain available in Australia until 1973.

1968 HK Holden Brougham.

Holden couldn’t let such an obvious market be ignored but their first response seems bizarre and was treated as such at the time.  Instead of following Ford’s lead and stretching their platform to create a long wheelbase alternative, Holden took their previous top-of-the-line Premier and extended the trunk (boot) by eight inches (200 mm), increasing luggage capacity and presumably pleasing those carrying stuff like bags of golf clubs but that really answered a question nobody had been asking.  Named the Brougham (a name with a tradition dating back to horseless carriages but rapidly becoming popular with US manufacturers), ascetically, the long-tail really didn’t work because it rendered the shape fundamentally unbalanced and the market response was muted, Brougham sales never making a dent in the Fairlane’s dominance.  Time has been kinder and the Brougham now has a cult following among collectors, especially the early versions which used a 307 cubic inch Chevrolet V8 because Holden's own 308 hadn't reached production.  Ironically, the mildly-tuned 307 isn't one of the more highly regarded iterations of the small-block Chevrolet V8 but the allure of the name remains strong.  In the early 1980s, when the things were unwanted and could be bought for a few hundred dollars, one enterprising customizer built a two-door version and while some of the detailing was lacking, the basic lines worked surprisingly well but as Chrysler and Ford discovered in the 1970s, although the market for such things in the US was huge (the segment was called "the personal coupe"), in Australia it was was small and shrinking so it's as well Holden didn't try their own.

1971 Holden Statesman De Ville.

In 1971, Holden did respond with a long wheelbase executive sedan, this time called the Statesman.  Apparently, there had previously been only one short-lived car called a Statesman (joining a governmental-themed roll-call manufacturers had previously used including Senator, Diplomat, President, Ambassador, Envoy and even Dictator).  This time, the styling was outstanding and, especially if buyers could resist the lure of the then inexplicably popular vinyl roof, the Statesman was an elegant execution, details such as the split egg-crate grill especially admired.  The frontal treatment was also a clever design because the whole HQ range used a “nose-cone” making face-lifts much cheaper and the same approach applied to the tail, the tail-lamps used on the commercial range and the station wagons re-purposed.  Holden had learned well from Ford’s example.  Structurally, the Statesman following the Fairlane’s price points, the basic car aimed at the hire-car market and available with a six cylinder engine and bench seats to make it a genuine six-seater while the Statesman De Ville featured a higher level of trim and used either Holden’s 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) or the imported Chevrolet 350 (5.7).  Just to emphasize how special the Statesman was, the Holden name didn’t appear either on the car or its advertising, the local operation instead seeking, and receiving, GM’s permission to used Cadillac’s famous wreath on the badge.  All the publicity material said "Statesman by General Motors" but few were fooled and eventually the trickery was abandoned.

The misstep Ford got away with: The 1972 ZF Fairlane (left) was criticized because it looked little different from the basic Falcon; the 1976 ZH (right) rectified that, an eight-year old US design this time providing the template.

The Statesman sold better than the Brougham but didn’t threaten the Fairlane’s dominant position in the sector, even though Ford in 1972 made the fundamental mistake when releasing its new version of not ensuring there was sufficient product differentiation; the new ZF Fairlane looked like a somewhat bloated XA Falcon but such was the inertia of the name and the solid reputation for reliability and resale value that fleet-managers and private buyers remained loyal and it wouldn’t be until 1976 that the problem of the Fairlane’s comparative anonymity was rectified and that by bolting on the styling from the 1968 Mercury; that’s how things were done then.  However, Ford in 1973 scored its other big hit by stretching the Falcon still further to create the LTD, a capable but gaudy machine which so appealed to governments and corporations that it for decades dominated those fleets.  Like the Fairlane, the LTD was a highly profitable package developed at low cost and noted for its bling such as the aviation style controls for the air-conditioning.  With the coming of the LTD, the imported Galaxie was withdrawn from the Australian market.

1976 Holden HJ Statesman Caprice: The increasingly baroque touches added during the face-lifts ("heavy-handed" the phrase used at the time) meant the later versions lacked the purity of the HQ, the delicate lines of which were the high-water mark of Holden's styling.     

Holden made no attempt to match the LTD, leaving the lucrative segment to Ford while the Statesman soldiered on although, matching the Fairlane, the slow-selling base model was dropped when the range was revised in 1974, along with the Chevrolet 350 V8 which had been fitted only to around 600 Statesmans (some of which were exported to New Zealand and South Africa with some unpleasing detail changes).  The structure of the range changed with the De Ville now the base car and a new model, the Caprice, sitting atop, the differences between the two all in bling, the mechanical specification identical, both using the Holden 308 V8 and the now more reliable Trimatic automatic transmission.  Through two face-lifts (HJ & HX), the Statesman was relatively unchanged during the troubled and difficult mid 1970s, most attention devoted to devising plumbing to lower emissions, something which worked but at the cost also of decreasing power and drivability; all that increased was the fuel consumption and the price.

1979 Holden Statesman SL/E.

However, in 1979, Holden surprised the market by splicing a new Statesman between the De Ville & Caprice: the Statesman SL/E.  Although mechanically unchanged from the rest of the range, the SL/E was advertised as the “sporty” Statesman, something made vaguely plausible by the huge improvement in handling rendered when the HZ cars were released in 1978 with what Holden called “radial tuned suspension” (RTS).  Unfortunately, the market found the idea of a “sporty Statesman” about as improbable as the conjunction sounds and the car was not a success, presumably because it was neither one thing or the other, the De Ville fundamentally the same only cheaper and the Caprice better equipped and more prestigious.  Whether the SL/E might have been better received had there been a genuine attempt to improve performance can't be known but power without an increase in emissions was hard to find in 1979 and Holden had the misfortune within a couple of months of the launch, the “second oil-shock” hit and V8 engines were suddenly again unfashionable.  Fortunately for Holden, the SL/E had not been an expensive programme, the wheels, badges and much of the bling borrowed from models already in production.

1982 Holden Caprice.

Still, the price of petrol not withstanding, by then, the next model Statesman was locked in for release in 1980.  The WB Statesman De Ville & Caprice existed because, cognizant of the uncertainty around the stability of the world oil market, Holden had replaced their mainstream range with the Commodore, a smaller (critically, narrower) car based on a European platform developed by Opel, GM’s German outpost.  The smaller machine was not suitable as the base for a Fairlane competitor so the decision was taken to update the HZ, even though the platform dated back to 1971.  What was achieved was commendable given the budget although the designers were disappointed that with the release of the new Fairlane & LTD in 1979, Ford had staged a pre-emptive hit with the six-window roof-line Holden had planned as their exclusive.  One genuine difference though was the Caprice’s hand-assembled grill, made from metal in an age when extruded plastic assemblies had long become industry practice but although much admired, it wasn’t enough to save the dated platform and the last Statesmans left the factory in 1985.  Holden did though flirt with a stay of execution because by 1982 it was clear the world would soon be awash with oil (what would come to be called the "oil glut"; the CIA's infamous 1975 prediction the world would "...by 1983 run out of oil" clearly wrong) and there were thoughts of a "low cost" version of the WB Statesman, resurrecting a proposal which seriously had been contemplated during the previous decade.  That was a response to the booming sales Ford was enjoying for it's bigger, wider Falcon range but the decision was taken to focus efforts instead on a bigger, wider Commodore, a vehicle released in 1988 which enjoyed great success.     

Publicity shot for 1983 Holden Statesman De Ville Magnum.

One quirk of the WB’s life however was that Peter Brock (1945–2006), a racing car driver who had created a successful business selling modified, high-performance Commodores, decided to resurrect the Statesman SL/E but this time make it genuinely “sporty”.  Labeled the Statesman Magnum, the car could be based on either the De Ville or Caprice according the buyer’s taste & budget and because Brock’s record-keeping was at the time a little haphazard, it’s not clear how many were built and it may not even have reached three figures.  Unlike the SL/E, the Magnum's 308 V8 benefited from the addition of the improved components Brock used on the Commodores: the cylinder heads, inlet manifold, air cleaner and exhaust system combining to produce a significant lift in output (power increasing from 170 to 250 hp (126 to 188kW) while, perhaps more relevantly for the target market, torque rose from 265 to 315 lb/ft (361 to 428Nm)).  Nor was the chassis neglected, Bilstein gas shock absorbers added all round while the front suspension geometry was revised and up-rated springs were fitted, the anti-roll bars thicker & stiffer.  Externally, most striking were the 16 x 8-inch Momo Polaris aluminium wheels while a variety of color schemes were offered, including the toning down of the chrome fittings to something darker and more menacing.  The press response was favorable, the already fine dynamics the platform had possessed since the debut of RTS now able better to be exploited with the additional power the Magnum provided, more than matching even the Chevrolet 350 fitted to some HQ Statesmans which had been offered only in a mild state of tune.  However, as the American industry had discovered in the 1960s, those who want high-performance vehicles prefer usually that they be in smaller packages and, as Ford two decades would re-discover when the Fairlane G220 was greeted with a polite yawn, those who wanted big luxury and those who wanted something smaller and “sporty” were two different populations, at least at certain stages in their lives.  In a sense though, Holden had the last laugh, the Statesman and Caprice later revived when the Commodore became larger and better suited to a wheelbase stretch and together they first out-sold and then outlived the Fairlane & LTD.

Polysphere

Polysphere (pronounced pol-ee-sfeer)

(1) In mathematics, a product of spheres.

(2) In mechanical engineering, a design of combustion chamber formed by the two shallow concave domes under the intake and exhaust valve seats.

1955: A compound word, the construct being poly + sphere.  Poly is from the Ancient Greek πολύς (polús or polys) (many, much), from the primitive Indo-European polhiús (much, many) from the root pele (to fill), akin to the Old English fela (many).  Sphere is from the Middle English spere, from the Old French spere, from the Late Latin sphēra, from the Classical Latin sphaera (ball, globe, celestial sphere), from the Ancient Greek σφαῖρα (sphaîra) (ball, globe), of unknown origin.  Despite spread of the myth by some medieval writes, sphere is not related to superficially similar Persian سپهر‎ (sepehr) (sky).  Poly, in modern English (especially in industrial and scientific application) use became a word-forming element meaning "many, much, multi-, one or more" with derivatives referring to multitudinousness or abundance.  It was equivalent to the Latin multi- and should properly be used in compounds only with words of Greek origin but this, etymologically slutty English ignores.  Polysphere is a noun and polyspheric is an adjective; the noun plural is polyspheres.

Chrysler, the poly, the hemi and the hemi which is really a poly

Chrysler didn’t invent hemispherical combustion chambers but they certainly made a cult of them.  In internal combustion engines of the mid-late twentieth century, the hemispherical combustion chamber was one of the best designs with with to provide an efficient burn-space while minimizing thermal loss and permitting the use of large diameter canted-valves to optimize intake and exhaust flow.  The early Chrysler Hemi V8s (1951-1958) were the most powerful of their generation but there were drawbacks.  To take advantage of the large valves at diverging angles, the valve train assembly was both bulky and heavy, needing two rocker shafts rather than the single units used with in-line arrangements.  Adding to the cost and complication were the inherently more expensive casting and machining processes required to produce the hemispherical shape of the combustion chambers in the cylinder heads.  To enable the mass-production of a less expensive V8 to use in their lower-priced lines, Chrysler created new cylinder heads with polyspheric (two shallow concave domes under the valves and named the “Poly”) combustion chambers and a less elaborate system of valve activation which needed only a single rocker shaft.  Although less powerful than the Hemis, the Polys were cheaper and lighter although it wouldn’t be until the 1960s that Chrysler standardized engines across their divisions; an early adoption of such economies of scale might have saved the corporation more money than retaining an exclusively Hemi-headed line would have cost.

The Hemi, 1951-1958 & 1964-1971 (left), the polyspheric, 1955-1967 (centre) and the new "Hemi" which is really a swirl Chamber, 2003- (right).

However, the Poly proved a cul-de-sac.  In an era of cheap petrol, larger capacity engines proved a more attractive route to horsepower than sophisticated combustion chamber design and the Hemis were retired in 1958, replaced by larger engines with wedge-shaped chambers, used by other manufacturers and much more suited to mass-production.  Consigned to the grave with the Hemis were almost all the Polys, only the 318 V8 (5.2 litre) retained as a rare oddity until 1967.  The Hemi would return, available between 1964-1971 as a 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) race engine (there were also some reduced displacement versions to satisfy local rules) which, for homologation purposes would in 1966 be released in slightly detuned form detuned for street use.  The name however held such an allure that it was revived in 2003 for Chrysler's new (and perhaps final) generation of V8s although in the narrow technical sense, Hemi is now more a marketing than an engineering term because the twenty-first century combustion chambers are something of a hybrid of hemispheric and polyspheric, the general term describing them for the last fifty-odd years being swirl chambers, a design which makes possible a high out-output of power, low emissions and an economy in operation which would have been thought impossible to achieve as recently as the 1980s.

Lindsay Lohan with polyspheric hair.  Polyspheric hair styles are possible, the classic example of which is the symmetrical “twin dome” look which is difficult exactly to achieve and harder still to maintain for more than a brief time.  They’re thus seen usually only at photo-shoots or for one-off events but the design element is popular with asymmetric styles.

When Chrysler in 1964 introduced the 273 cubic inch (4.5 litre) V8 as the first of its LA-Series (that would begat the later 318, 340 & 360 (the V10 Magnum used in the Dodge Viper is also as descendent)), the most obvious visual difference from the earlier A-Series V8s was the noticeably smaller cylinder heads.  The A engines used as skew-type valve arrangement in which the exhaust valve was parallel to the bore with the intake valve tipped toward the intake manifold (the classic polyspherical chamber).  For the LA, Chrysler rendered all the valves tipped to the intake manifold and in-line (as viewed from the front), the industry’s standard approach to a wedge combustion chamber.  The reason for the change was that the decision had been taken to offer the compact Valiant with a V8 but it was a car which had been designed to accommodate only a straight-six and the wide-shouldered polyspheric head A-Series V8s simply wouldn’t fit.  So, essentially, wedge-heads were bolted atop the old A-Series block but the “L” in LA stood for light and the engineers wanted something genuinely lighter for the compact (in contemporary US terms) Valiant.  Accordingly, in addition to the reduced size of the heads and intake manifold, a new casting process was developed for the block (the biggest, heaviest part of an engine) which made possible thinner walls.  With the exception of the Hemis, the new big-block engines used wedge-heads and the small block polyspheres (the A-Series) were replaced by the LA except for an export version of the 313 (5.1 litre) which in small numbers was manufactured until 1965 and the 318, the last of which was fitted in 1967.  Confusingly, the replacement LA engine was also a 318, a product of carrying over certain components, both the 318-A & 318-LA sharing the same bore & stroke.  In an example of production-line rationalization, when Chrysler Australia bored out their 245 cubic inch (4.0 litre) Hemi-6 to create the 265 (4.3), the bore chosen was the same as the 318s so pistons could have been shared with the V8 although for technical reasons this wasn't actually done.  The Australian "Hemi" straight sixes used another variation of the combustion chamber in that chambers sat in upper third of the globe, hence the "low hemispherical" slang which wasn't wholly accurate but Ford's Boss 429 V8 had already been dubbed the "semi-hemi" and linguistic novelty was becoming hard to find.

Magnum

Magnum (pronounced mag-nuhm)

(1) A large wine bottle having a capacity of two ordinary bottles or 1.5 liters (1.6 quarts).

(2) In ballistics, a magnum cartridge or firearm (a loaded with a larger charge than other cartridges of the same calibre).

(3) A firearm using such a cartridge.

(4) Used generally, unusually great in power or size:

1788:  From the Latin magnum (“great, large, big" (of size), "great, considerable" (of value), "strong, powerful" (of force); of persons, "elder, aged"), neuter of magnus (large), from a suffixed form of the primitive Indo-European root meg- (great).  The original use in English was to describe the large wine-bottle, then usually containing two quarts.  As the name of a powerful type of handgun, it was first registered in 1935 by the US company, Smith & Wesson of Springfield, Massachusetts.  Outside of ballistics, the most common use is now probably “magnum opus" (masterpiece, a person's greatest work, literally "great work", applied, in literature, music, art and (sometime a little liberally) popular culture.  The noun plural is magnums or magna.

Magnum ammunition

Lindsay Lohan in habit with Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum, Machete (2010).

Released in September 2010 at the Venice Film Festival and distributed internationally by Sony Pictures, Machete would probably be more highly regarded if the full-length feature had lived up to the promise created by the artfully-edited trailer.  Probably about twenty minutes too long, the critical consensus suggests Machete was a violent, shallow, repetitive and probably unnecessary addition to whatever was the sub-genre of exploitation it inhabited.  That said, the production values were thought high enough for those who like this sort of thing to be able to look forward to it as one of the more enjoyable movies of the summer of 2010.

Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum.

A magnum cartridge is one with a larger case size than the standard cartridge of the same calibre and case shoulder shape.  The now generic term is derived from Smith & Wesson’s Original .357 S&W Magnum, introduced in 1934; magnum ammunition containing either or both additional propellant or a heavier projectile but the term is a bit of an anomaly in the business of ballistics.  Although in the terminology of firearms, most jargon is explicitly defined, “magnum ammunition” has no precise codified set of standards, instead being just an indication of the possession of more powerful characteristics than other loads of the same calibre and shape.

Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum.

Smith & Wesson’s original .357 Magnum was introduced in 1934 in response to the growing availability of bullet-proofing technology in both automobiles and the ballistics vests used for personal protection.  It was an attempt to provide greater penetrative power without the need to increase the bore with the consequential increase in the size and weight of weapons.  Predictably though, the arms race had begun, and in the decades which followed, magnum loads would become available for a wide range of calibres, hand guns and long arms as well as shotguns, the classic .44 Magnum, later made famous in popular culture, released in 1954.  It didn’t stop there, increasing demand for the .44 convincing Smith & Wesson to develop the .500 Magnum, currently the most powerful handgun load generally available and one marketed, in addition to its other attractions, to those who might find it more convenient than a rifle for hunting big game.  The size, weight and recoil however mean it’s not suitable for all and in the US, .500 is anyway the legal limit for handgun loads.  In US law, it’s a rare restriction.

.460 Weatherby Magnum.

For that reason, even Smith and Wesson do recommend that unless one plans to hunt elephant at close range or expect to confront a charging wild boar, loads like the .357 Magnum are better for what most people do most of the time.  The same caution applies to the Magnum loads for rifles, the .375 Magnum often nominated by experts as the perfect compromise for all but the most extreme applications.  Indeed, it was loads like the .375 Magnum which eliminated most of the need for the famous old-style “elephant guns” like Holland & Holland’s .600 Nitro and the .458 and .460 Magnum cartridges of the 1950s were necessitated only by regulations governing big-game hunting in Africa mandating a load above .400.  Despite that, demand for the heavy calibres remains strong, Holland and Holland, after introducing a canon-like .700 Nitro found demand so unexpectedly strong that they resumed production of the long retired .600.  While it seems unlikely heavier loads will be thought practical, that may not matter, there being some evidence many of the .700 Nitros are sold to collectors, never to be fired.

That said, Austria’s Pfeifer firearms created supply to meet what demand there may be.  The Pfeifer .600 Nitro Express Zeliska single-action revolver weighs over 13 lb (4.85 kg) and is  22 inches (.56 m) in length, the cylinder section alone weighing 4.5 lb (17 kg).  Although generating a muzzle energy of 7,591 foot pounds (33.7 kn), paradoxically, the weight of the gun actually limits the recoil, making controlled shooting possible although, practice is essential.  With a cylinder capacity of either five .600 Nitro or .458 Winchester Magnum rounds, it's able to fire a 900 grain, .600 some 2000 feet (600+ m).  At release, Zeliska listed the revolver at US$17,316 and because each .600 Nitro Express round costs about US$45, it’s an expensive hobby.

The Magnum Concilium

Dating from Norman times, the Magnum Concilium (Great Council) was an English assembly eventually composed of senior ecclesiastics, noblemen and representatives of the counties of England and Wales (and later of the boroughs too) which was from time-to-time convened to discuss matter of state with the king and his advisors (sitting as the Curia Regis (King's Court; a kind of predecessor to the Privy Council and later the cabinet).  The Magnum Concilium evolved into the Concilium Regis in Parliamento (the parliament of England), the first generally thought to be the so-called "Model Parliament" of 1295, which included archbishops, bishops, abbots, earls, barons, and representatives of the shires and boroughs.  The evolution wasn’t linear, power in the land a constant struggle between king and parliament, the authority of both fluctuating as the politics of the day effed and flowed.  Nor was the parliament a united force, shrewd kings knowing how to exploit divisions between the parliamentary factions but by the reign of Edward II (1284-1327; as Edward of Caernarfon, King of England 1307-1327), the nobility was ascendant, the Crown compliant and the rest essentially irrelevant.

Execution Of Charles I, 1649 (circa 1850) by an unknown artist.

Under Edward III (1312–1377; as Edward of Windsor, King of England 1327-1377), the modern bicameral structure (a House of Commons & a House of Lords), became clear and the authority of Parliament grew although the Lords remained by far the most powerful because that was where the economic resources were concentrated.  That reality was reflected by the practice, under the Plantagenet kings, of the summoning of the Magnum Concilium being something exclusively ecclesiastical & aristocratic, the representatives of the commons rarely in attendance.  After Henry VII (1457–1509; King of England 1485-1509) convened the Magnum Concilium on several occasions in the late 1400s, for various reasons, its participation in the governance of England went into abeyance until, in 1640, Charles I was advised to summon the Magnum Concilium after he’d dissolved the Short Parliament in order to raise money because his misrule and wars of adventure had bankrupted the state.  The king got his money but his private army was soon at war with the parliamentary forces of both Scotland and England and those wars did not for him go well.  Before the decade was over, he would be beheaded.  The Magnum Concilium has not since met but experts in English constitutional law have confirmed it still exists and can, at any time, be summoned by the Crown.

Chrysler’s 440 Magnum Six-Pack

383 Magnum V8 with cross-ram induction in in 1960 Dodge Dart Phoenix D-500.

Chrysler’s family of big-block wedge V8s lasted from 1958 until 1978 but, although the label is often commonly applied, not all were designated “Magnum”.  The first Magnum was a high-performance version of the B-series 383 cubic inch (6.3 litre) V8 (which differs from the later RB 383), the highlight being the option of a (long) cross-ram inlet manifold with two four-barrel carburetors.  It was only Dodge which used the Magnum label; the equivalent power-plant in a Plymouth was called a Commando (there were adjectives sometimes added) and in a Chrysler, a TNT.

1970 Dodge 440 Magnum Six-Pack.

Introduced in 1969, the highest evolution of the RB Magnum were the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) versions built with three Holley 2300 series two-barrel carburetors instead of the more commonly seen single carburetor induction (which were on the 440 almost exclusively in four-barrel form).  The early versions used an Edelbrock manifold cast in aluminum but supply difficulties forced Chrysler also to cast their own in cast-iron to meet demand.  Although obviously a high-performance variation, marketed by Dodge as the 440 Magnum Six-Pack, the engine was engineered to use only the centre 250 cubic feet per minute (7 m³) carburetor under normal throttle loads, the outer two 370 cfm (10.4 m³) units used only if summoned.  If one could resist the temptation of the sudden onrush of power, the Magnum Six-Pack could be quite economical by the admittedly slight standards of the time.

440 Magnum Six-Pack in 1970 Dodge Challenger.

Internally, the Six-Pack Magnums differed from the single carburetor engines in the use of stiffer valve springs borrowed from the 426 Street Hemi, stronger rocker arms (strengthened connecting rods were added in 1970), molybdenum-filled piston rings and flash chromed valves.  Better to cope with the additional stresses imposed by those high-tension springs, the camshaft lobes and lifter faces were blueprinted to equalise the loads, the lifters rotating to distribute wear equally across the surfaces subject to friction.  With its compression ratio upped from 10.1:1 to 10.5:1, upon release, the Magnum Six-Pack was rated at 390 bhp (290 kw), dropping slightly to 385 (287) when some minor anti-emission adjustments were made in 1971.  At around half the price of Chrysler’s much-vaunted Street-Hemi adaptation of the race engine, the Magnum Six-Pack was a bargain, at least matching the Hemi in most aspects of performance until speeds above 120 mph (190 km/h) were attained, along with a longer manufacturer’s warranty and lower insurance costs, at least for some.  It was good while it lasted but 1971 was the swansong for both the Magnum Six-Pack and the Street-Hemi, emission regulations and an astonishing increase in the cost of insuring the things crushing demand.

1972 Jensen FF Series III.

Across the Atlantic however, the Six-Pack Magnum did enjoy a brief afterlife after being driven extinct in the US.  Jensen, in the throes of phasing out their acclaimed but unprofitable all-wheel-drive FF, were looking for a flagship which could be created quickly and cheaply, ruling out the mooted convertible which wouldn’t appear for some years.  With their planned new F-Type unlikely to be on sale before 1973, the need was for something which demanded neither much development time nor an onerous budget.

The much admired louvers on 1972 Jensen SP.

Jensen had for years been building their Interceptor & FF models with the Chrysler RB engines and had even flirted with the idea of doing a run with the Street Hemi, a project aborted when the costs of adaptation became apparent.  In late 1970, Jensen’s need for something was communicated to Chrysler which, by happy coincidence, had a batch of Magnum Six-Pack engines which had been gathering dust in a Canadian warehouse since being effectively orphaned by the new US emission control legislation.  Within days, agreement was reached, Jensen taking delivery of the first tranche of the batch which, although unable to be sold in the US, were legal just about everywhere else.  The mechanical specification settled, discussions then turned to other features which could be included to enhance the car’s status as a premium product.  Because it was the 1970s (and there's really no other excuse), without much discussion, it was agreed to glue on a vinyl roof; that many others did the same thing is no defense.  More defensible was the inclusion of a high-quality and very expensive Learjet eight-track cartridge stereo system and, to provide some continuity with the FF, it was decided to use that model’s blue-themed badges rather than the red used on the Interceptor.  Also, interestingly, it was during these initial discussions that a fully louvered hood (bonnet) would be included in the coachwork but there’s no indication there was any concern about additional engine-bay heat, the louvers apparently just a styling device to evoke memories of earlier eras when they were common on high-performance machinery.  There was little debate about the name; several people had suggested SP was the obvious choice.  In December 1970, the first prototype SP was built although the intricacies of the triple carburetor engine weren’t entirely new to Jensen’s engineers, having a few months earlier fitted one to an Interceptor to fulfil a customer request.  Assessment of the prototype proved the adaptation was as straight-forward as expected, the minor issue of the additional clearance demanded by the big air-filter effected by a quick fix to the filter housing.

1971 Jensen SP at the Geneva Motor Show, March 1972.  Just fifteen were built in left-hand drive configuration because the SP engine couldn't meet the new US emission standards, thereby precluding sales in the market most receptive to thirsty machines.

Scheduled for release in the northern autumn of 1971, Jensen’s original plan had been to announce the SP as part of their new range including the Mark III versions of both the Interceptor and FF but the realities of the future made apparent the mixed-messaging was a bad idea.  The SP was intended to be the new top-of-the line model so announcing it with an updated version of the doomed yet still more expensive FF made little sense, the Mark III FF created only as a way to ensure the last fifteen FF body-shells (the all-wheel drive configuration necessitated a longer wheelbase) could be utilised.  Almost all FF marketing was thus terminated and the emphasis switched to the new two-model range with the SP sitting atop which meant the Mark III FF, which would become one of the Jensens most prized by collectors, went at the time almost unnoticed.

1972 Monteverdi 375/4.

Beginning its tour of the motor show circuit, the new flagship was greeted with subdued interest by the motoring press which viewed the SP as the hot rod Interceptor it was and which, while entertaining in a occasionally brutish (and rather un-Jensen like) sort of way, was not as intriguing as the soon-to-be lamented FF, the prowess of which had so astonished all who drove it, exploring for the first time the revolutionary possibilities of anti-lock braking and all-wheel-drive.  Nevertheless, the performance did impress, a top-speed of 143 mph (230 km/h) being reported although it was noted that Monteverdi’s even bigger and heavier 375/4 limousine had been clocked just a little faster and it used the 440 with only a single four barrel carburetor.  Still it was fast enough and nobody complained the SP lacked pace.

Jensen SP press release, 5 October 1971.

What did elicit complaint was the manner in which that speed sometimes arrived.  The tremendous delivery of power at full-throttle was praised but the lack of predictable response lower in the rev-range attracted criticism, the additional carburetors kicking in sometimes unexpectedly and not always when the car was heading in a straight line.  Issues with hot-starting were also apparent and even the otherwise much admired multi-louvered bonnet was found not the be without fault, the slats apparently changing either the properties of the metal or the reaction of the shape to the fluid dynamics of air-flow; at speed, the bonnet would “slightly shiver, almost as though improperly fastened” and testers, used to the cocoon-like stability of the Interceptor and FF, found it disconcerting.  While none of the reviews were damning, nor were they much more than polite.

1972 Jensen SP engine bay.

Worse was to come as customers started reporting problems, the first being the issue of under-bonnet heat.  Although a big machine by European standards, the engine bay of the Jensen was smaller than anything to which it’d been fitted in the US and, even with the louvers helping to ventilate the space, it got very hot in there and this quickly affected the carburetors which had never before been exposed to such extremes; parts warping as the metal heated and then cooled, causing air-gaps to emerge, making accurate tuning, vital with multiple-carburetion, impossible.  The factory was soon receiving reports of engines which refused to idle and, due to the inherent nature of the Holly 2300 carburetor design, engines would run too rich after a week or so of nothing more than normal driving.

1963 Jensen CV8.

For a small company like Jensen, it was a major setback.  The company had built the Interceptor's reputation on reliability and ease of ownership essentially by piggy-backing on the back of the bullet proof Chrysler V8s and TorqueFlite transmissions it had begun using in the Interceptor's predecessor, the CV8.  The approach, adopted by many in this era, appealed to buyers not sufficiently seduced by the bespoke charm and mechanical intricacies of the continental competition to wish to deal with the cost and inconvenience of the more demanding maintenance schedules listed by Ferrari, Lamborghini & Maserati.  Like the MGA Twin-Cam (and for that matter the later Jensen-Healey), the SP was a classic case of insufficient product development and testing, examples of which littered the post-war UK industry.  Perhaps there was complacency because (1) multiple carburetors were nothing new to British manufacturers and (2) the Six-Pack Magnum had a good record of reliability in the US.  However, three Hollys on a big-block Chrysler turned out to behave differently to three big SUs on a Jaguar XK-six.                  

1970 Dodge Super Bee 440 Magnum Six-Pack with typical girlfriend of typical buyer.

The occasional quirk of the Magnum Six-Pack was not unknown in the US but there the nature of the thing was well-understood; it was a hot-rod engine bought by those who wanted such things, most owners young, male, mechanically adept and often anxious to tinker under the hood (bonnet).  The Jensen buyer was a wholly different demographic, mostly older, affluent men who either had rarely seen under a bonnet or hadn’t looked for many years and their expectations of a car which was twice as expensive as Jaguar’s V12 E-Type were very different to those youthful Californian baby boomers had of their hotted-up taxi cabs.  Used to the effortless, if thirsty, behavior of the Interceptor, some found their SPs, the high-performance of which most could rarely explore, were behaving like brand new, very expensive old clunkers.

Jensen FF with typical mistress of typical buyer.

Weeks of testing and experiments with all sorts of adjustments proved pointless.  In Jensen’s workshops it was always possible to produce a perfectly running SP but, after sometimes as little as a week in the hands of owner, it would be back, displaying the same symptoms and in the end, Jensen admitted defeat and offered the only solution guaranteed to work: remove the triple induction system and replace it with the Interceptor’s faithful Carter Thermoquad four barrel carburetor.  That alleviated all the drivability issues but did mean that having paid their £6,976.87, a premium of a thousand-odd pounds over the anyway expensive Interceptor, the emasculated SP became an Interceptor with a vinyl roof, an eight-track cartridge player and a vibrating bonnet.  The factory’s records suggest between a quarter and a third of buyers opted for the Theromquad fix and some refunds were paid to the especially unhappy.

Last gasp: 1974 Jensen Interceptor convertible.

Although Jensen had known, because the Magnum Six-Pack was out of production, the SP was not going to have a long life, it had been hoped it would fulfil its role until the new F-Type was expected to be released in 1973.  However, having built 208 SPs, Jensen didn’t take up their option on what remained in Chrysler’s Canadian remainder bin and, once the stock already delivered was exhausted, the SP was allowed quietly to die.  Between September 1971 and July 1973, 231 Jensen SPs were completed with one final example built in October, a special order from someone who really wanted one.

1972 Jensen-Healey publicity shot.

It was the start of a run of bad luck that would doom also the Interceptor and the entire company: (1) Development issues would beset the F-Type which would never see the light of day, (2) the Jensen-Healey (1972-1976) sports car which had seemed so promising turned into an expensive flop and (3) the first oil shock in 1973 rendered the Interceptor and many of its ilk suddenly big, thirsty dinosaurs and not even the release in 1974 of a much-admired convertible version could rescue things.  Bankruptcy loomed and by 1976 the end came.  However, in the way flawed but charismatic English cars have often, decades on, enjoyed second acts, the SPs are now much prized and there’s a small industry devoted to restoring them to their six-barreled glory, modern materials and techniques of insulation & cooling now able to transform them into something as well-behaved as any Interceptor.

The magnum’s place in the hierarchy of Champagne bottles.

Lindsay Lohan with Magnum (ice cream) backdrop.