Accidie

Accidie (pronounced ak-si-dee)

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

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

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

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

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

Google ngram: Accidie 1800-2020.

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

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

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

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

A 1969 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray in Daytona Yellow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1978 Mercedes Benz 280 TE (S123).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leap

Leap (pronounced leep)

(1) To spring through the air from one point or position to another; to jump.

(2) Quickly or suddenly to move or act.

(3) To cause to leap.

(4) A spring, jump, or bound; a light, springing movement.

(5) The distance covered in a leap; distance jumped.

(6) A place leaped or to be leaped over or from.

(7) A sudden or abrupt transition.

(8) A sudden and decisive increase.

(8) In folk mythology, to copulate with or coverture of (a female beast) (archaic).

(9) In slang, to copulate with (a human) (archaic).

(10) A group of leopards.

(11) In figurative use, a significant move forward.

(12) In figurative use, a large step in reasoning (often one that is not justified by the facts, hence the sceptical phrase “a bit of a leap” & “quite a leap”).

(13) In mining (also used in geology), a fault.

(14) In aquatic management, a salmon ladder; a trap or snare for fish, historically constructed with fallen from twigs; a “weely”.

(15) In music, a passing from one note to another by an interval, especially by a long one, or by one including several other intermediate intervals.

(16) An intercalary measure, best-known as “leap year”, “leap second” et al.

(17) In pre-modern measures of weight, half a bushel.

Pre 900: From the Middle English lepen, from the Old English hlēapan, from the Proto-West Germanic hlaupan, from the Proto-Germanic hlaupaną (a doublet of lope, lowp, elope, gallop, galop, interlope and loop).  It was cognate with the German laufen (to run; to walk), the Old Norse hlaupa the Gothic hlaupan, the West Frisian ljeppe (to jump), the Dutch lopen (to run; to walk), the Danish løbe and the Norwegian Bokmål løpe, from the primitive Indo-European klewb- (to spring; stumble) (and may be compared with the Lithuanian šlùbti (to become lame) & klùbti (to stumble).  The verb forms are tangled things.  The third-person singular simple present tense is leaps, the present participle leaping, the simple past leaped or leapt (lept & lope the archaic forms) and the past participle is leaped or leapt or (lept & lopen the archaic forms).  That leapt and leaped remain in concurrent use is another of those annoy things in English which are hangovers from their ancient entrenchments in regional use and, as a general principle leapt tends to be is preferred educated British English while leaped is seen more frequently in North America (although leapt is in those places not uncommon, especially in areas with historical ties to England).  The transitive sense as in “pass over by leaping” was in use by the early fifteenth century and there are references to the children’s game “leap-frog” documented in the 1590s, and so obvious was the use of that figuratively it probably quickly was adopted but the first attested entry dates from 1704.  The familiar “to leap tall buildings in a single bound” comes from the Superman comics of the 1940s although in idiomatic use, “leaps” has been paired with “bounds” since at least since 1720.  Leap is a noun, verb & adjective, leaper & leapling are nouns and leaping and leapt & leaped are verbs; the noun plural is leaps.

The leap year is “a year containing 366 days” and use dates from late fourteenth century Middle English lepe gere, a genuine innovation because no equivalent term existed in the Old English. The origin is thought to come from the effect of fixed festival days, which normally advance one weekday per year, to “leap” ahead one day in the week.  The Medieval Latin was saltus lunae (omission of one day in the lunar calendar every 19 years), the Old English form being monan hlyp.  The adjustments happened in the calendars of many cultures, always with the purpose of ensuring the man-made devices for tracking dates (and therefore time) remained consistent with the sun; summer needed always to feel like summer and winter like winter.  Different methods of handling the intercalary were adopted and in England the bissextile was the device.  The noun & adjective bissextile (plural bissextiles) dates from the early 1580s and was from the Latin bisextilis annus (bissextile year), the construct being bisextus + -ilis, deconstructed as bis- (two; twice; doubled) + sextus (sixth) + dies (day) and was a reference to the Julian calendar's original reckoning of its quadrennial intercalary day as a 48-hour 24 February (subsequently distinguished as the two separate days of the sixth day before the March calends (sexto Kalendas Martii) and the “doubled sixth day”.  In modern use, 24 February is now understood as “five days before 1 March” but in Roman use it was called “the sixth” because the counting of dates was then inclusive.

The most physically demanding (and dangerous) part of Lindsay Lohan’s impressive leap into a Triumph TR4 in Irish Wish was undertaken by a body double (the young lady in this case deserving the “stunt-double” title).

Ready to leap: Lindsay Lohan with stunt double Aoife Bailey (b 1999).

Lindsay Lohan's Netflix movie Irish Wish (2024) was said by Irish reviewers to be "a mix of Leap Year meets Just My Luck meets Freaky Friday in which Lohan stars as quiet book editor Maddie Kelly, who embarks on a journey to find love by learning to love herself first."  Like Irish Wish, Leap Year (2010) was filmed in Ireland but unlike 2010, 2024 was a leap year.  IMCDB’s (Internet Movie Cars Database) comprehensive site confirmed the Triumph TR4 was registered in Ireland (ZV5660, VIN:STC65CT17130C) as running the 2.1 litre version (17130C) of the engine.  The Triumph 2.1 is sometimes listed as a 2.2 because, despite an actual displacement of 2138 cm³; in some places the math orthodoxy is ignored and a "round up" rule applied, something done usually in jurisdictions which use displacement-based taxation or registration regimes, the "rounding up" sometimes having the effect of "pushing" a vehicle into a category which attracts a higher rate.  Those buying a TR4 for use in competitions with a 2.0 litre limit could specify the smaller unit from the factory but being based on a tractor engine (!) and thus fitted with wet-cylinder liners, “sleeving” a 2.1 back to 2.0 wasn’t difficult.  The lack of the "IRS" (independent rear suspension) badge on the trunk (boot) lid indicates the use of the live rear axle and that detail was of no significance in the plot although, given the leap scene, a convertible of some sort would have been required.  Although on the road the IRS delivered a smoother ride, those using TR4s in competition usually preferred the live rear-axle because it made the car easier to steer “with the throttle”.

The replacement of the bissextile by the then novel 29 February every four years-odd appears such an obviously good idea it seems strange it took centuries universally to be adopted in England although the documents reveal the shift was certainly well in progress by the mid-fifteenth century and in an echo of later practices, the more curmudgeonly the institution, the slower the intrusion of the new ways, the Admiralty and houses of parliament ignoring 29 February until well into the 1500s.  It wasn’t until the Calendar (New Style) Act (1750) passed into law that 29 February received formal recognition in UK law.  The reform worked well from the start but in some jurisdictions, government lawyers took no chances and for the handful of souls born on a 29 February, their birth dates were deemed to be 28 February or 1 March for all legal purposes (eligibility for drivers licenses or pensions, age of consent etc).  One born on 29 February is a “leapling” and there are said to be a few as five million of these lonely souls on the whole planet.  In many countries hospitals and midwives note the frequency with which expectant mothers approaching March request staff do whatever is required to avoid them giving birth to a leapling, fearing the child will feel deprived by having fewer birthdays than their siblings of friends.  The math of the leap year is it is one (1) evenly divisible by 4, (2) except for years are evenly divisible by 100 except that (3) years evenly divisible by 400 are leap years.  So, 2000 was while 1900 was not; 2100 will not be a leap year, but 2400 will be.  However, because the rotation of the Earth is changing (and thus the length of days), as is its distance from the Sun, even a 29 February now and then is not enough to keep everything in sync.  So, there are also leap seconds, spliced in as needed and unlike 29 February, only those dealing with atomic clocks and such notice addition.

Leap is common in idiomatic use:  To do something in “leaps and bounds” suggests commendably quick progress.  A “leap in the dark” is to take some action while being uncertain of consequences and the related “leap of faith” is trusting in something that cannot be seen or proven so in a sense they’re two ways of saying much the same thing although “leap of faith” does also imply some trust in something or someone.  To have one’s heart “leap into one’s throat” is an allusion to the sensation felt sometimes in the throat when something scary happens.  To “leap for joy” is much the same as “jump for joy” and describes joyous happiness.  To “leap at” something is enthusiastically to take up an offer, avail one’s self of an opportunity etc.  When doing so, one might be said to “leap into action”.  To be cautioned to “look before you leap” is to suggest one should be sure of things before doing something; if one ignores the advice then it’s a “leap of faith” or a “leap into the dark”.  To “leapfrog” is to skip a step in some process, the connotation almost always positive.  To suggest someone “take a flying leap” is much the same as telling them to “go jump in the lake” or, as is now more common: “fuck off”.  The concept of the "quantum leap" was in 1913 introduced (as the "quantum jump") by Danish physicist Niels Bohr (1885–1962) in his "Bohr model" of the atom.  In the strange world of quantum mechanics it describes the discontinuous change of the state of an electron in an atom or molecule from one energy level to another and was adopted figuratively to refer to an "abrupt, extreme change".  In modern use, it has come to mean a large or transformative change, a use to which pedants sometimes object but this is how the English language works.  The “leap year bug” is jargon rather than a idiom and describes the growing number of instances of problems caused by computers (and related machines) for whatever reason not correctly handling the existence of leap years.  Most are caused by human error and some are not being rectified because the original error has been built upon to such an extent that it’s easier to handle the bugs as they occur.  If something is said to be “a bit of a leap” or “quite a leap” it means there's some scepticism about the relationship one thing and another (often cause & effect). 

Jaguar's Leaper

Left to right (top row): Buick, Packard & Pierce-Arrow; (centre row): Rolls-Royce, Bentley & Mercury; (bottom row): Duesenberg, Mercedes-Benz & Nash.

The radiator cap of course began as a mere functional device which could be unscrewed to allow coolant to be added but, inevitably, possibilities occurred to stylists (they weren’t yet “designers”) and soon the things were a small platform for miniature (though many were anything but small) works of art to covey an image to suit at least what was imagined to be the character of the vehicle on which they sat.  Although such embellishments are now remembered for their decorative qualities (and many in the art deco era during the inter-war were lovely creations), some genuinely were functional and “topping-up” the coolant was for decades a frequent part of the motoring experience so, however attractive they may have been, their use as a handle means they may be thought architectonic as well as artistic. The Jaguar Leaper had fangs and while that sounds ominous for pedestrians, some of the radiator cap & hood emblems looked more lethal still and even before the “safety movement” of the 1960s, there had been discussions about the dangers they posed.  For the safety of pedestrians, the few survivors now are spring-loaded or retract when the vehicle is in motion.

Leaper on 1960 Jaguar Mark 2 3.8.  Owners found the fitting handy when opening the hood.

“Leaper” really was the factory’s name for the lunging feline figure which for decades adorned the space atop or behind the grill on many Jaguars.  The story of the origin is murky and while there may be some myth-making in it, the most likely explanation seems to be that when late in 1934 newly appointed Ernest William "Bill" Rankin (1898-1966, Advertising Manager and Public Relations Officer, Jaguar Cars 1934-1966) settled (from a list of charismatic wild animals) on “Jaguar” as a name for a new “sporty” SS (then the company name) car and, part of the “brand identity” was to design an appropriate radiator cap ornament.  Rankin was acquainted with the draftsman & technical illustrator Gordon Crosby (1885–1943) who he knew to be an amateur sculptor and it was to him the commission was granted.  Crosby delivered a prototype cast in bronze and according to company mythology, Jaguar’s founder, Sir William Lyons (1901–1985) thought it looked like “a cat shot off a fence” but liked the concept so, lengthened and softened into something sleeker, the refined shape emerged as the “Leaper”, first fitted in 1938.  The tales do differ, some suggesting Sir William’s “cat shot off a fence” thoughts were prompted by the sight of an earlier, third–party ornament which inspired him to task Mr Rankin with finding a replacement and, in the absence of documentary proof, Jaguar fans can pick the story they prefer.

Leaper on 1950 Jaguar Mark V 3.5.  The Mark V (1948-1951) was the last Jaguar with the external radiator cap and thus the last time a Leaper was also a cap-handle.

The SS name came from the Swallow Sidecar Company which Lyons had in 1922 co-founded with William Walmsley (1892–1961), reorganized as “S.S. Cars” after 1934 when Walmsley withdrew and the adoption in 1935 of “Jaguar” as a model name was mere marketing and nothing to do with the by then unsavoury reputation of the German SS (Schutzstaffel (protection squad), which began in 1923 as a small security guard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) but which evolved into a kind of parallel army for the Nazi Party and later into an armed formation almost a million-strong).  Even by 1945 when motor vehicle production resumed and the corporate name S.S. Cars formerly was changed to “Jaguar Cars Limited”, the rationale was the stronger brand identity of the latter rather than an aversion to anything associative with the Nazis.  Indeed, in 1957 Jaguar returned to SS as designation with the release of the XKSS, a road-going version of the Le Mans-winning D-Type race car.

An early Leaper (left) and the later "in flight" version (right) with the fully extended hind legs.

First fitted to production SS Jaguars in 1938, it became standard equipment on all until 1951 when the Mark V was discontinued.  As the last Jaguar to feature an external radiator cap, the assumption was that was the end of the Leaper and the strikingly modernist XK120 which created a sensation at the 1948 London Motor Show had only a radiator grill; the spirit of the age was that the ornaments were antiquated relics.  However, elsewhere in the industry, modernity and nostalgia managed peacefully to co-exist and while there was no revival of external radiator caps, the ornaments refused to die and from expensive Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royce to the most humble Austins and Chevrolets, the chromed constructions continued and sometimes grew, those not able to sit atop grills (many now with no “top” as such) re-imagined as hood (bonnet) ornaments.  So, in 1955 the Jaguar Leaper made a comeback on the new small saloon (the 2.4), the mascot using the subtle post-war re-working of the hind legs, made more outstretched to suggest the big cat in “mid-leap”, about to take its prey.

Rendered usually in fibreglass anodized with a shiny silver finish (although some, daringly, were gloss black), large leapers were often a feature of Jaguar dealerships (left).  Once decommissioned, they were sometimes sold and, applying dreadful and indefensible gender stereotyping, were a good gift for the garden (right) of the Jaguar-owning husband or boyfriend who "has everything". 

On the saloons, the design lasted 14 years and it was offered as an option on the XK150 (1957-1961) for while the XK120 (1948-1954) in 1948 had seemed streamlined modernity exemplified, the world had moved on and by 1957, although much improved and still stylish, the lines now seemed baroque rather than minimalist; the Leaper now fitted in well.  For the big Mark X saloon in 1961, paradoxically, a smaller Leaper was cast and this remained in use until the car (by then called 420G) was retired in 1970 so it was thus the last of the early Leapers, the XJ unadorned upon its debut in 1968 with the last of the legacy saloons (240, 340 (1967-1969 and both renamed and often de-contented versions of the Mark 2 (1959-1967)), S-Type (1963-1968) & 420 (1966-1968) produced in 1969.  The aftermarket though remained buoyant with many XJs and XJSs fitted with Leapers by owners who liked the look or dealers who thought they would.  It does seem they were fitted at the plant to many of the New Zealand-assembled XJs and the factory may have been in two minds about it: the hoods of all XJs (1968-1992) included on the underside skin- panel marks indicating where the holes should be drilled.  Not until the X300 XJ in 1994 would they again be factory-fitted to some models (in “pedestrian friendly” spring-loaded form) and this continued until 2005.

1958 Jaguar XK150 DHC (drop head coupé, left) and 1967 420G (right).

When in 1957 the Leaper appeared as an option on the XK150, Jaguar used the standard part fitted to the saloons but for the Mark X in 1961, a smaller version was cast, despite the car (stylistically something of a preview of the “fuselage” Chryslers of 1969) being the widest then produced in the UK (and it would remain so until 1992 when the company released the XJ220).  So, although the Leaper genuinely was smaller, the compression of relativities exaggerated the effect.  Jaguar took the opposite approach to Mercedes-Benz, the Germans creating a larger cartouche (the three-pointed star inscribed within a circle which sat atop the grill) for use on the big 600 Grosser (1963-1981).  What that did was maintain the relative dimensions familiar from the symbol’s use on smaller models.

Leaper on a US market 1999 Jaguar Vanden Plas (X308) which in the US market were fitted with the fluted grill used otherwise only on the Daimler variants.  The solid-timber picnic tables (a feature adored by the English middle class) were much admired.

The US market Vanden Plas models were the only Jaguars on which the Leaper was used in conjunction with the fluted grill fitted to the home market and RoW (rest of the world) Daimlers.  Because it was Mercedes-Benz and not Jaguar which after 1966 held the US rights to the Daimler brand, Daimlers since then sold in the US were badged as Jaguar Vanden Plas although they were otherwise identical to Daimlers including the fluted fittings.  The supercharged Daimler Vanden Plas was the most exclusive of the X308s and was noted for details such as the rear picnic tables being crafted from solid burl walnut timber rather than the veneer over plastic used on cheaper models.

1970 S2 Jaguar E-Type (top) from the "R2" run of 1000-odd (almost all of which were registered as 1971 models) with the Leaper badges on the flanks (left-side p/n BD35865 (left); right side p/n BD35866 (right)).  A Growler appeared in the front centre-bar (right).

The Series 2 E-Type (1968-1971) was marred by the clutter of bigger bumpers, protuberant headlight assemblies, badges and side-marker lights and so much did they detract from lovely, sleek lines of the Series 1 cars (1961-1967), bolting a luggage rack to the boot (trunk) lid probably seemed no longer the disfigurement it would once have been.  The disfigurement had begun with the transitional E-Types (the so-called 1.25 & 1.5 cars built in 1967) and indicate what would have been necessary to ensure post-1973 MGBs & MG Midgets conformed with the US headlight height stipulation.  It could have been done on the MGB but the shape of the Midget made the modification impossible (at least within aesthetic acceptability) but BL (British Leyland) took the cheaper route (always their preferred option) and raised the suspension height, compromising handling and lending the things a slight cartoonish quality but by then power had been so reduced by emission controls the view probably was handling prowess was no longer so important.  Remarkably, demand for both the by the antiquated MGB and Midget remained strong until sales finally ended in 1980.  The left-hand (left) and right-hand (right) fender badges, being directional, were different part numbers (BD35865 & BD35866 respectively) and those used on E-Types were silver on black whereas the variants used on the XJs were gold on black, some of which depicted the leaping feline at a slight slope, both matters of note for those wishing to restore cars to the challenging “factory original” standard.

1976 Jaguar XJC 4.2.

This XJC is one of many in the wild which, at some point, was fitted with a Leaper but it’s a shame whoever made the addition didn't at the same time remove the unfortunate vinyl roof.  Like the headlight covers sometimes added to the later (S1.25 & 1.5) S1 E-Types, removing an XJC's vinyl roof is one of the rare exceptions Jaguar's usually uncompromising originality police not only tolerate but encourage.  The Leaper badges on the flanks (behind the front wheel arch) were factory-fitted on the Series 1 (1968-1973) & Series 2 (1973-1979) XJs but whether on the XJ or E-Type were just disfiguring clutter and having them in silver & gold and with the feline sometimes at a different angle seems a minor but needless complication to the production process.

Still under the control of the doomed British Leyland, Jaguar lacked the resources fully to develop the XJC (1975-1998) and although it was displayed to much acclaim in 1973, not for another two seasons would it appear in showrooms, the programme starved of capital because greater priority was afforded to the XJ-S (1975-1996 and from 1991 officially “XJS”, a change most of the world informally had long adopted) which was thought a product with greater potential in the vital US market.  The XJC thus debuted with problems including (1) flawed sealing of the side windows which resulted in intrusive wind-noise, (2) a tendency of the doors to droop because, although longer and thus heavier than those of the four-door saloons, the same hinges were used and (3) the pillarless (ie a two-door hardtop) construction induced a slight flexing in the roof’s metal and while not a structural issue, because regulators had (quite sensibly) had lead removed from paint, the paint on the roof was prone to crazing.  The solutions (the development of exotic paint additives or re-designing the roof with heavier-gauge metal) would have been expensive and time-consuming so, in the British Leyland tradition, the Q&D (quick & dirty) approach was preferred and a vinyl roof was glued on but modern paints mean the ugly vinyl can now be removed so the roof’s lovely lines can be admired.

Jaguar’s cancelled Growler (left) and the new (EV-friendly) Leaper.  According to the MBAs, the message the Leaper conveys is: “Always leaping forward, it is a representation of excellence and hallmark of the brand.”

The companion bad to the Leaper was the “Growler” which featured the head of a Jaguar, mid-growl.  There were over the years many version of the Growler and it appeared variously on trunk-lids, grills, steering wheel bosses and such.  Because as a fitting it was never rendered in a way likely to cause injury to pedestrians, it might have been supposed it wouldn’t be vulnerable to cancellation but it transpired the Growler poses a significant moral hazard, presumably on the basis that while the somehow sensuously feminine Leaper is acceptable, the Growler embodies toxic masculinity.  Whether Jaguar’s MBAs discovered this from focus groups or divined it from their own moral superiority hasn’t be revealed but in 2024 the company announced the Growler would not re-appear when the new range was launched in 2025.  Given the public response to the DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) themed preview of the company's EV (electric vehicle) re-brand, the presence or not of the Growler may not be of great significance but a new expression of the Leaper, (with something of a stylistic debt to the IBM logo), would be included so there’s that.

1985 Jaguar XJ-SC with after-market large Leaper.  Because of regulations, US the market XJ-S used quad circular headlights rather than the twin oval units otherwise fitted and while many don't like them, the "four eyes" look was closer to Jaguar's traditions.

Leapers have been fitted to some XJ-S and XJSs where they really don’t belong, the factory never installing one.  If it’s done, the least-worse approach is to use the small Leaper from the Mark X/420G and remove the Growler badge (if fitted) while the WCS (worst case scenario) is to leave Growler in place and add a large Leaper which really is too much clutter; with pre-modern Jaguars, less usually is more.  Still, for those who insist, reproductions of the classic 4¾ inch (120 mm) feline predator are available and those manufactured by German Jaguar tuner Jochen Arden comply with the EU’s rigorous safety regulations in that maximum pedestrian impact protection is afforded by the design integrating both lateral and horizontal rotation of the assembly.  The part is supplied as a kit which includes adapter plates to suit a number of otherwise leaperless jags and, being German-made, there is of course a “lifetime corrosion warranty”, the small print limited to (1) rusty Leapers purchased after November 2011, (2) not damaged and (3) validity restricted to the original purchaser and presentation of the original invoice.

1988 Jaguar XJ-S V12 Convertible by Hess & Eisenhardt (left) and 1989 Jaguar XJ-S V12 Convertible (right).  Note the bulkier soft-top used by the factory, necessitated by retention of the coupé's fuel tank.  The after-market, anodized plastic fittings on the wheel arches are, on an XJ-S, as undesirable as a Leaper.

When introduced in 1975, the XJ-S was available only as a coupé, the prevailing feeling in industry it was only a matter of time until US regulators outlawed convertibles.  For a number of reasons, the ban was never imposed and by the 1980s toes were again being dipped in the topless market, Jaguar in 1982 releasing the XJ-SC which featured a targa-like structure somewhere between that used on the Triumph Stag (1970-1977) and the various landaulets with “fold-back” roofs.  It was thus not a true “convertible” and sales were disappointing, demand limited further by the thing being purely a two-seater, the rear compartment re-configured as a generously-sized storage apace.  The dealer-feedback (notably from the US) however indicated there would be demand for a convertible XJ-S, something confirmed by US specialists Hess & Eisenhardt selling some 2000 of the conversions fabricated between 1986-1988.  Accordingly, in 1988 the factory released an XJ-S convertible and although also a two-seater, it proved a great success.  Interestingly, the factory’s design almost replicated the approach earlier taken by Jochem Arden with most of the coupe’s components retained.  This did necessitate the soft-top not folding especially low, unlike the Hess & Eisenhardt cars although to achieve that, modifications were made to the fuel tank and among some that proved controversial.

1968 Mercury Cougar GT-E 428 in Augusta Green Poly (left) and 1968 Mercury Cougar GT-E 427 in Grecian Gold (right).  Other than the Jaguaresque iconography, about the only thing European about the Cougar was the use of the French spelling of “litre”.  Ford in 1966-1967 also used a “7 Litre” badge, for a model which was fitted variously with the 427 & 428 cubic inch (7.0 litre) FE V8s.  The interchangeable badges were probably not a cost-saving measure but may have been to avoid the complaints Shelby American received as a consequence of fitting both the 427 and the less robust 428 to AC Shelby Cobras universally badged as “427”.

1968 Mercury Cougar GT-E 427 in Grecian Gold (left side badge).

Ford's Mercury division also had a stylized feline, introduced in 1967 when the Cougar debuted.  Unlike Jaguar's symbol, the cougar wasn't leaping but was caught more in mid-prowl although Mercury's marketing department would probably have liked people to have thought of it like that; the Cougar was that sort of car.  Although in colloquial use, cougars are often referred to as “big cats”, in zoological taxonomy, felinologists restrict the “big cat” classification to the genus Panthera (lions, tigers, leopards, snow leopards & jaguars) and one defining feature of the Panthera cats is their ability to roar, made possible by a specific adaptation in the larynx and hyoid bone.  Lacking the anatomical feature, like cheetahs, cougars are not able to roar.  Often known as the mountain lion, puma, or Puma concolor, despite their size, the cougar is more closely related to smaller cats so it’s properly a “large” cat rather than a “big cat”.