Tiger

Tiger (pronounced tahy-ger)

(1) A large, carnivorous, tawny-colored and black-striped feline, Panthera tigris, of Asia, ranging in several subspecies from India and the Malay Peninsula to Siberia.

(2) In non-technical use, the cougar, jaguar, thylacine, or other animal resembling the tiger (in wide use in southern Africa of leopards).

(3) A person of some fierceness, noted for courage or a ferocious, bloodthirsty and audacious person.

(4) In heraldry, a representation of a large mythological cat, used on a coat of arms, often with the spelling tyger or tygre (to distinguish the mythological beast from the natural tiger (also blazoned Bengal tiger), also used in heraldry).

(5) A pneumatic box or pan used in refining sugar.

(6) Any of several strong, voracious fishes, as a sand shark.

(7) Any of numerous animals with stripes similar to a tiger's.

(8) A servant in livery who rides with his master or mistress, especially a page or groom (archaic).

(9) In entomology & historic aviation, a clipping of tiger moth (in the family Arctiidae), tiger beetle or tiger butterfly (in tribe Danaini, especially subtribe Danaina).

(10) Any of the three Australian species of black-and-yellow striped dragonflies of the genus Ictinogomphus.

(11) In US, slang, someone noted for their athleticism or endurance during sexual intercourse.

(12) In southern African slang, a ten-rand note.

(13) As TIGR (pronounced as for “tiger”), the abbreviation for Treasury Investment Growth Receipts: a bond denominated in dollars and linked to US treasury bonds, the yield on which is taxed in the UK as income when it is cashed or redeemed.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English tygre & tigre, from the Old English tīgras (plural) and the Anglo-Norman tigre (plural), from the Latin tīgris, from the Ancient Greek τίγρις (tígris), from an Iranian source akin to the Old Persian tigra- (sharp, pointed) and related to the Avestan tighri & tigri (arrow) and tiγra (pointed), the reference being to the big cats “springing” on to their prey but the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes no application of either word (or any derivative) to the tiger is known in Zend.  It was used of “tiger-like” people since the early sixteenth century and that could be complementary or pejorative although the female form (tigress) seems only to have been used in zoology since the 1610s and was never applied to women.  The tiger's-eye (yellowish-brown quartz) was first documented in 1886.  The word “liger”, like the creature it described, was a forced mating of lion and tiger.  As a modifier, tiger is widely used including the forms: American tiger, Amur tiger, Asian Tiger, Mexican tiger, Siberian tiger, tiger barb, tiger beetle, tiger bench, tiger-lily, tiger lily, tiger's eye, tiger shark & tiger's milk.  A female tiger is a tigeress.  The alternative spellings tigre & tyger are both obsolete.  Tiger & tigerishness are nouns, tigerly, tigerish & tigerlike are adjectives and tigerishly is an adverb; the noun plural is tigers.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) atop tiger in Kult Magazine (Italy), January 2012, photograph by Vijat Mohindra (b 1985), makeup by Joyce Bonelli (b 1981).

In idiomatic use, a country said to have a “tiger economy” (rapid and sustained economic growth), especially if disproportionate to population or other conventional measures.  “Tiger parent” (and especially “tiger mother”) refers to a strict parenting style demanding academic excellence and obedience from children; it’s associated especially with East Asian societies.  The “tiger cheer” dates from 1845 and originated in Princeton University, based on the institution’s mascot and involved the cheerleaders calling out "Tiger" at the end of a cheer accompanied by a jump or outstretched arms.  Beyond Princeton, a “tiger cheer” is any “shriek or howl at the end of a cheer”.  The phrase "paper tiger" was apparently first used by comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) when discussing his thoughts about the imperialist powers.  A calque of the Chinese 紙老虎／纸老虎 (zhǐlǎohǔ), it referred to an ostensibly fierce or powerful person, country or organisation without the ability to back up their words; imposing but ineffectual.  Phrases in the same vein include "sheep in wolf's clothing" and "a bark worse than their bite".  To be said to “have a tiger by the tail” suggests one has found one’s self in a situation (1) that has turned out to be much more difficult to control than one had expected and (2) difficult to extricate one’s self from, the idea being that while holding the tiger’s tail, things are not good but if one lets go, things will likely become much worse.

Lana Del Rey with (edited-in) tigers, Born to Die, 2012.

Released in 2012, Born to Die was the title track of Lana Del Rey’s (stage name of Elizabeth Woolridge Grant, b 1985) second studio album.  The music video, recorded at the Palace of Fontainebleau (a former royal château of the French court), was directed by Yoann Lemoine (b 1983) who placed the singer between two tigers.  That effect was however a trick of the editing, the big cats filmed separately, which seems a sensible precaution.  Lying some 55 km (34 miles) south-east of central Paris, the Château de Fontainebleau is among the largest of the French royal châteaux and was for centuries both an occasional residence and hunting lodge for monarchs, the name from Fontaine Belle-Eau (spring of beautiful water), a natural fresh water spring located in the English garden not far from the château.  The interior of the palace is in some places referred to as “Rococo” but while some rooms were in the eighteenth century re-decorated with distinct Rococo touches, the distinctive style dates from the late French Renaissance and such was the thematic consistency it created what come to be known throughout Europe as “the School of Fontainebleau” which historians of architecture list as running from the mid sixteenth century to the early seventeenth, the motifs influencing more than one strain of Mannerism.  For students, the place is rich source of examples of movements from the Renaissance, through early and high French Baroque to the First Empire.  It was designated a national museum in 1927 and in 1981 was listed by UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Men in frock coats:  The “Big Four” at the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), outside the Foreign Ministry headquarters, Quai d'Orsay, Paris.

Left to right: David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922), Vittorio Orlando (1860–1952; Italian prime minister 1917-1919), Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; French prime minister 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) and Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921).

Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; Prime Minister of France 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) was a physician who turned to politics via journalism, a not unfamiliar trajectory for many; at a time of national crisis, he undertook his second term as premier, providing the country’s politics with the stiffness needed to endure what was by then World War I (1914-1918); he was nick-named le tigre (the tiger) in honor of his ferociously combative political demeanour.  In February 1919, while travelling from his apartment a meeting associated with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), he was shot several times, his assailant an anarchist carpenter & joiner, Émile Cottin (1896-1937) and two decades on, another leader would learn carpenters can aspire to be assassins.  Le tigre was lucky, the bullets missing his vital organs although one which passed through the ribcage ending up lodged close to his heart; too close to that vital organ to risk surgery, there it remained until his death (from unrelated causes) ten years later.  Cottin’s death sentence was later commuted to a ten year sentence and he would die in battle, serving with the anarchist Durruti Column during the early days of the Spanish Civil War.  The Tiger’s response to his survival was to observe: “We have just won the most terrible war in history, yet here is a Frenchman who misses his target six out of seven times at point-blank range.  Of course this fellow must be punished for the careless use of a dangerous weapon and for poor marksmanship. I suggest that he be locked up for eight years, with intensive training in a shooting gallery.”  In the circumstances, deploring the state of French marksmanship displayed a certain sangfroid.

The Sunbeam Tigers

Sunbeam Tiger, LSR run, Southport Beach, March 1926.

There have been three Sunbeam Tigers, the first illustrious, the second fondly remembered and the last so anti-climatic it’s all but forgotten.  The first was a dedicated racing car, built between 1923-1925 and, those being times when there was less specialization, it was used both in circuit racing and, most famously, in setting the world Land Speed Record (LSR).  Although aerodynamic by the standards of the time (the techniques of streamlining learned in World War I (1914-1918) military aviation applied), there was little innovation in the platform except for the engine, the nature of which ensured the Tiger’s place in history.  For grand prix events conducted for cars with a maximum displacement of 2.0 litres (122 cubic inches), Sunbeam had earlier built a two litre straight-six, the limitations imposed by the relatively small size being offset by the use of the then still novel double overhead camshafts (DOHC) which allowed both more efficient combustion chambers and much higher engine speeds, thereby increasing power.  It was a robust, reliable power-plant and when contemplating an attempt on the LSR, instead of developing anything new or using the then popular expedient of installing a big & powerful but heavy and low-revving aero engine, the engineers paired two of the blocks and heads on a single crankcase, creating a 75° 3,976 cm³ (243 cubic inch) V12.  When supercharged, power outputs as high as 312 hp (233 kW) were registered.

Sunbeam Tiger in 1990.

Deteriorating weather conditions meant there wasn’t time even to paint the bodywork before the Tiger was rushed to the banked circuit at Brooklands for testing in September 1925 where performance exceeded expectations.  Over the winter, further refinements were made including a coat of most un-British bright red paint and it was in this color (and thus nick-named “Ladybird”) it was in March 1926 taken to the flat, hard sands of Southport Beach where duly it raised the LSR mark to 152.33 mph (245.15 km/h).  That was broken within a year but the Tiger still holds the record as the smallest displacement ICE (internal combustion engine) ever to hold the LSR and a century on, it’s a distinction likely to be retained forever.  After the run on the beach, it returned to the circuits.  A sister car was built and named Tigress; fitted with one of the big Napier Lion W12 aero engines, it still competes in historic competition but the Tiger is now a museum piece although, after 65 years, it did have a final fling when in 1990 it made one last run and this time set a mark of 159 mph (256 km/h).

Sunbeam Alpine (1959-1968) with the original tail fins: 1961 (left) and 1963 (right).  When in late 1958 the design was approved by the Rootes board, tail fins were thought still fashionable but the moment soon passed and with the release of the Series IV in 1964, they were pruned.

Although successful in competition and the manufacturer of some much admired road cars, financial stability for Sunbeam was marginal for most of the 1920s and the Great Depression of the early 1930s proved its nemesis, the bankrupt company in 1934 purchased by the Rootes Group which was attracted by Sunbeam’s production facilities and their well-regarded line of HD (heavy duty) chassis for bus & truck operators.  Rootes over the years used the Sunbeam name in a desultory way, the vehicles little more than “badge engineered” versions of their Hillman, Singer, Humber & Talbot lines but one aberration was the Sunbeam Alpine, a small sports car (1959-1968).  Rootes had used the Alpine name before, adopted to take advantage of the success enjoyed in the 1953 Alpine Rally but the new roadster was very different.  Although the platform was taken (unpromisingly) from a small van (noted for its robustness and reliability but little else) with the rest of the structure a mash up of components from the Rootes parts bin, as a package it worked very well and the body was modern and attractive, owing more to small Italian sports cars than the often rather agricultural British competition from MG and Triumph.  The rakish fins drew the eye (not always uncritically) but they were very much of their time, taller even than those on the Daimler SP250 released the same year.  The Alpine was also pleasingly civilized with a heater which actually worked, a soft-top which didn’t leak (at least not as often or to the same extent as some others), external door handles and wind-up windows, none of those attributes guaranteed to exist on most of the local competition.  It was also commendably quiet, conversations possible and the radio able to be listened to even at cruising speed, then something then novel in little British roadsters.

1966 Sunbeam Tiger Mark IA.

With an engine capacity initially of 1.5 litres (91 cubic inch), the Alpine was never fast although that was hardly the point and the advertising included some campaigns aimed at what was then known as the “ladies market”; that market still exists but the industry now dare not speak its name.  Product development included larger engines would improve things but the performance deficit was better addressed when, in 1964, a version of the Alpine called the Tiger appeared, fitted with Ford’s recently released 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) “thinwall” V8 (the so-called “Windsor” in honor the foundry in Ontario where the things were cast and assembled), about to become well known from its use in both the Ford Mustang and Carroll Shelby's (1923–2012) Cobra, the latter based on a much-modified AC Ace.  The Windsor was called a “thinwall” because genuinely it was small and light (by the standards of contemporary iron-block V8s) but even so it only just fitted (once come frankly brutish modifications to the engine bay were effected with hammers) and so tight was the fit a small hatch was installed in the firewall (under the dashboard) so a hand could reach in to change one otherwise inaccessible spark plug.  That notwithstanding, the package worked and all those who wrote test reports seemed to enjoy the Tiger, noting the effortless performance, fine brakes (lifted unchanged from the Alpine!) and (within limits) predictable handling, all in something conveniently sized.  However, even in those more tolerant times, more than one journalist observed that although the Ford V8 used was in the mildest state of tune Ford offered (the ones Shelby put in the Cobra producing over 100-odd HP (75 kW) more), it was clear the classis was close to the limit of what could be (even in the more forgiving 1960s) deemed sensible for road use.

Pleasingly, in the mid 1960s, there was in the US quite an appetite for cars not wholly sensible for street use and late in 1966, a revised version was released, this time with a 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) Windsor V8 and although there had been some attention to the underpinnings, it was now obvious that while still in the placid state Ford used in station wagons and such, the 289's increased output exceeded the capability of the chassis.  For the journalists of course, that was highly entertaining and some were prepared to forgive, one cautioning only that the Tiger:

“…doesn’t take kindly to being flung around.  It’s a car with dignity as asks to be driven that way.  That doesn’t mean slowly, necessarily, but that there’s sufficient power on tap to embarrass the incautious.  But if you treat it right, respecting it for what it is, the Tiger can offer driving pleasure of a very high order.”

In the era, there were other over-powered machines which could behave worse and those able to read between the lines would know what they were getting but there may have been some who were surprised and tellingly, the Tigers were never advertised to the “ladies market” although one was in 1965 presented as the traditional "pink prize" to Playboy’s PotY (Playmate of the Year).  Presumably she enjoyed it and, now painted "resale" red, the car still exists.

Jo Collins (b 1945), 1965 PotY with her 1965 Sunbeam Tiger Mark I.  All Tigers received the pruned fins (introduced on the Series IV Alpines), the once raked elliptical taillights assuming a vertical aspect.

The US was a receptive market for the little hot rod and one featured in the Get Smart TV series, although it’s said for technical reasons (the V8 version not having space in the engine compartment for some of the props), a re-badged Alpine was used for some scenes (the same swap effected for the 2008 feature film adaptation), a V8 exhaust burble dubbed where appropriate, a trick not uncommon in film-making.  At the corporate level of M&A (mergers & acquisitions), changes were however were coming which would doom the Tiger although it was an unintended victim.  Seeking a greater presence in Europe as well as a ranger of smaller vehicles to offer in the US, Chrysler had first taken a stake in the Rootes Group in 1964 and in 1967 it assumed full control.  Chrysler was most interested in the mainstream sedans but although the Tiger was a low-volume line, it was profitable and the corporation’s original intention had been to continue production but with Chrysler’s 273 cubic inch (4.4 litre) LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the Windsor truly was compact.  Allowing it to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “…mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the vaguely ambiguous “…an American V-8 power train”.  Still a popular car in the collector community, so easily modified are the V8s that few survive in their original form and many have been fitted with larger Windsors, the 289 and 302 (4.9 litre) the most popular and some have persuaded even the tall-deck 351 (5.8) to fit though not without modifications.

Sunbeam Tigers: 1965 model with “Powered by Ford 260” badge (left), 1967 model with “Sunbeam V8” badge (centre) and 1965 French market model with “Alpine 260” badge (right).

It wasn’t unknown for the major US manufacturers to use components from competitors, something which happened usually either because of a technology deficit or to do with licencing.  However, they much preferred it if what was used was hidden from view (like a transmission) so Chrysler’s reticence about advertising what had become one of their cars being fitted with Ford V8 was understandable.  Not only was the advertising material swiftly changed but so were the badges: “Powered by Ford 260” giving way to “Sunbeam V8” for the rest of the Tiger’s life.  Unrelated to that however was the curious case of Tigers sold in South Africa and some European markets where they were designated variously as “Alpine 260” or “Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen: Sunbeam Alpine 260 opposite Simca Aronde and behind Renault 16 in the Italian film Come rubare la corona d'Inghilterra (1967) by Sergio Grieco (1917–1982).  The title translates literally as “How to Steal the Crown of England” but in the English-speaking world it’s better known as Argoman the Fantastic Superman.  The film garnered mixed reviews.

The reason the “Tiger” name never made it to the largest European markets was because Panhard in France was then selling a Tigre and Messerschmitt in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), held the trademark to Tiger.  The German Tiger can be visualized as something like the cockpit of a World War II (1939-1945) era Messerschmitt Bf-109 fighter aircraft fitted with four wheels and a 500 cm³ engine; it was as entertaining as it sounds.  Apparently on advice from Rootes’ French distributers (Société des Automobiles Simca), it was decided just to use the Alpine name and the car thus was advertised in France, Germany Austria & Switzerland variously as the “Alpine 260” or “Alpine V8”, the latter making marketing sense in countries not used to cubic inches as a measure although the imperial measure may have been used to emphasize the US connection, Detroit's V8s deservedly enjoying a reputation for smoothness, power and reliability.

What lay beneath: Body tags for US market Tiger (left) and French market Alpine 260 (centre & right).  Whether the 4.2 V8-powered cars had “Alpine” or “Tiger” badges, all were designated on the body tags as “Alpine 260 V8”.

However, in places such as Sweden and Monaco where there was no concern with violating trademark law, the “Tiger” name was used, as it was for vehicles ordered by US citizens for delivery in Europe.  Typically these were armed forces personnel able to buy through the military’s PX (Post Exchange) stores and they enjoyed the benefit at the end of their deployment of having their car shipped home to the US at no cost.  Volumes into Europe were always low and the sketchy records (assembled by Tiger owners clubs) suggest as few as seven Mark II models were exported to Europe, three of which went to France and by then the operation known as "Rootes Motors Overseas Ltd" had for all purposes switched their advertising to “Sunbeam Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen, with rear projection.  Cary Grant (1904–1986, left) with (pre-princess) Grace Kelly (1929–1982; Princess Consort of Monaco 1956-1982, right) behind the wheel of 1953 Mark I Sunbeam Alpine (in Sapphire Blue) in To Catch a Thief (1955).

In 1955, Sunbeam did release an Alpine Mark III but there was never a Mark II, “skipping numbers” something not uncommon in aircraft and software but rare in automobiles.  For students of technology, the long scene of Grace Kelly driving in To Catch a Thief (appearing mostly to be filmed through the windscreen) is an example of the RPT (rear projection technique) used before CGI (computer-generated imagery) technology existed.  While much of the film was shot on-location in Europe, the Alpine was shipped to the US for some of her driving scenes because only in Hollywood were the big studios outfitted with the rear-projection equipment able to emulate 360^o settings.  RPT obviously created new possibilities for cinematographers but for directors there was the advantage of the driver not being compelled to “keep their eyes on the road”, however bad an example this may have set for impressionable audiences.  In the age of CGI, the RPT looks obviously fake but it was at the time state-of-the-art and a companion piece to the vivid “Technicolor look” of the era.

Grace Kelly and Cary Grant filmed with RPT in To Catch a Thief.  In 1982, driving her Rover P6 (1963-1977) 3500 (1968-1977), she would die in an accident on a similar road. 

When first pondering the name to be used in Europe, within Rootes there may anyway have been awareness of the French manufacturer Peugeot in 1964 forcing Porsche to rename its new 901 to 911 (something which worked out OK) on the basis of the argument they had an “exclusive right in France” to sell cars with three numeral designation in France when the middle digit was a “0” (zero).  That seems dubious given Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling 200s & 300s and was about to release the 600 but the EEC (the European Economic Community, the Zollverein which would evolve into the EU (European Union)) wasn’t at the time governed by the “give way to the Germans” rule which would come to characterize the EU so defer Porsche did.  Rootes was thus wise to avoid the inevitable C&D (cease and desist letter) which may have been anticipated.

1965 PotY Jo Collins with her pink Tiger.

Stranger however is that Tigers sold in France were called “Alpine 260” despite (1) the French manufacturer Alpine having first sold cars there in 1954 and (2) the “260” being a reference to the V8 displacement in cubic inches (cid), imperial measurements not used in wholly metric France (where a 4.2 (litre) badge might have been expected).  Sunbeam was able to use the Alpine name because their original version (the one driven by Grace Kelly) had first been sold in France in 1953, thus pre-dating the French venture Automobiles Alpine, the corporate identity of which wasn’t formalized until 1955.

1965 French market Sunbeam Alpine 260 with after-market 14" Minilite wheels.

So, on the basis of “prior use”, the Alpine name could in France be used, despite the existence since 1954 of the sports cars produced by Dieppe-based Automobiles Alpine.  Whether the decision to append an imperial “260” rather than a more localized “4.2” was the British adding insult to injury isn’t known but the use of metric measurements in engine displacement had for decades been the British practice, possibly reflecting the early French dominance in the field (rather as terms like “fuselage”, “aileron” and such were picked up in the English-speaking world because it was the French who enjoyed a early lead in aviation and thus got to name the bits & pieces).  Still, while subtle cross-channel slights may sound improbably petty, that’s a quality not absent either in international relations or commerce and not only were London and Paris then squabbling over whether the Anglo-French SST (supersonic transport) airliner should be called “Concorde” or the anglicized “Concord”, in 1963, Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) had vetoed the UK’s application for membership of the EEC.  For that last diplomatic setback, the British may have had themselves to blame because when in 1940 they offered de Gaulle sanctuary in London after the fall of France, the Foreign Office allocated him offices on Waterloo Place and overlooking Trafalgar Square.  A sensitive soul, neither Le Général nor Le Président ever forgave or forgot a slight.

Carroll Shelby, Sunbeam publicity shot for the US market, 1964.

Between April 1964 and August 3763 Mark I Tigers were built.  The 2706 “Mark IA” models which followed between August 1965 and February 1966 were based on the Alpine Series V which had a number of detail changes (most obviously the doors, hood (bonnet) and truck (boot) lid having sharper corners and a vinyl rather than metal top boot for the folding soft-top); while these now universally are listed as “Mark IAs”, that was never an official factory designation.  The first Mark IIs weren’t built until December 1966 with production lasting only until June the next year when Sunbeam’s stocks of Ford V8s was exhausted and just 536 (although 633 is oft-quoted) were built.  Although there were detail differences between the Mark IA and Mark II, the fundamental change was the use of the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) engine and all but a few dozen were exported to the US.

Carroll Shelby invoiced Rootes US$10,000 to develop the original Tiger prototype and had expected to gain the contract for production on the same basis as Shelby American's arrangement with AC to produce the Cobra (ie he'd receive engineless cars into which he'd insert the V8s) but the process instead went the other way with Sunbeam importing the engines, contracting final assembly to Jensen.  Shelby instead received a small commission for each Tiger sold and appeared in some of the early marketing material.  He understood that despite (on paper) being superficially similar, the Tiger was a very different machine to the Cobra and, aimed at different markets, the two were really not competitors.  Amusingly, Shelby's US$10,000 fee was paid in a "back-channel deal", the funds coming from Rootes' US advertising budget rather than the engineering department's allocation.  That accounting sleight of hand was necessary because it was known to all the company's conservative chairman (Lord Rootes (1894–1964)), would never have approved such a project.  He changed his mind after test-driving the prototype and ordered immediate production, living long enough to see it enjoy success.

Tigerish: Lindsay Lohan imagined in cara gata (cat face) by Shijing Peng. 

One Sunbeam Tiger variant which did however not enjoy success was the Tiger GT which was supplied without a soft-top.  It might seem a strange notion that someone (unless they lived somewhere like the Atacama Desert in Chile which enjoys an average annual rainfall around 0.1 mm (0.00393699 of an inch)) would buy a convertible without a folding roof but in the 1960s it really was a thing, Mercedes-Benz releasing such a version of their W113 roadster (1963-1971).  Introduced in 1967 during the brief run of the 250 SL, Mercedes-Benz listed it officially as the “SL Coupe” but journalists and the public (and not a few dealers) quickly dubbed it the “California Coupe”, reviving an appellation which emerged in 1959 to describe the stacked headlight assembly used for a number of models between 1959-1973 because US lighting regulations outlawed the ovoid-shape composite headlights used for the RoW (rest of the world) production.  The rationale behind the label was apparently that “California” was the most American thing imaginable.  The California Coupe was enough of a success to be carried over to 1968 when the 280 SL was released and the model remained in the catalogue until the last W113s left the line in 1971; it’s believed some 1,100 were built.  Chevrolet in the era allowed buyers of the C2 Corvette (1963-1967) convertible to order their cars with the choice of (1) a soft-top, (2) a hard-top or (3) both and while a majority (35,892) chose both, of the 72,418 convertibles built 5,794 (just over 8%) eschewed the folding roof.  It’s true some of those would have been bought for use in competition so the folding roof would have been needless expense but it can be assume most were purchased to be registered for use on the street.

1964 Sunbeam Tiger GT interior.

So the “hardtop only” Tiger GT at the time probably seemed a good idea and it followed the model of the Alpine GT, added to the range when the Series III (1963-1964) was introduced (the versions with hard & soft-tops designated as Alpine STs although use of “ST” has always been about as rare as that enjoyed by “Sports Tourer” & “Gran Tourismo” which appeared in the early advertising copy.  The GT was essentially a “luxury” model and the most luxurious aspect was greater interior space, made possible by the area taken by the top’s stowage compartment being allocated to a larger, padded rear seat, albeit one really suitable only for children.  The GT’s unique appointments included full length pleated door panels (a padded arm rail a top), full carpeting (replacing the ST’s practical but utilitarian rubber mats), wood-rimmed steering wheel and burled walnut wood veneered facia for the dashboard.  Additionally, the GT featured as standard equipment some of the ST’s options including a clock, ammeter, cigar lighter and glove-box courtesy light.  The GT’s hard-top was painted to match the body, additional sound insulation was fitted and the carburetor even received a canister type air filter to minimise the “sucking sounds” from the induction system.  The GT’s modifications were all about refinement rather than performance for as well as being heavier, the GT received a slightly less powerful engine (80 HP against the ST’s 87).  Initially, the Alpine GT sold well though in the US it may have been the lack of a soft-top which curbed demand and when the Series V (1965-1968) Alpine was released, the GT no longer appeared in the US catalogue.

Brochure shot of 1963 Sunbeam Alpine GT interior.

So, with the Alpine GT having been well-received, it was logical for Rootes to include a Tiger GT in the new range; accordingly, during August 1964, Jensen completed was thought to be an initial batch of 15 Tiger GTs but they would prove to be the last.  Unlike the Alpine GT with its detuned engine, the Tiger GTs had the same mechanical specification as other Tigers and all 15 were shipped to US dealers where their “luxury” interiors seemed to have a “shaming” effect on the more basic (vinyl & rubber) appearance of the standard model, the distributers reporting to Rootes there was some market resistance to the 200 Tigers which had arrived, the drab interior not helping persuade buyers to spend some US$3,800 when Ford’s recently released Mustang offered the same engine and transmission combination in a bigger package for rather less.  The factory responded, adding to the Tiger’s specification the burl walnut veneer facia for the dashboard and the wood rimmed steering wheel (although the fancier door trims didn’t appear until the Mark IA revisions).  After that, the Tiger GT project was allowed to lapse with none were built after the first 15, its sole contribution to the line apparently inducing an upgraded interior for the standard model.

1972 Hillman Avenger Tiger advertisement (left) and 1972 Avenger Tiger Mark II advertisement (right).  The early Avengers (1972-1976) are remembered for their distinctive "boomerang (or hockey stick)" tail-lamps, a style later used by Mazda for the Cosmo (1975-1981 and sold in some markets as the RX-5).  It's believed the rear spoiler was not wind tunnel tested, despite the claim the "special aerofoil on the boot" was there to "keep the Tiger hugging the road".

1972 Hillman Avenger Tiger Mark II in Sundance Yellow.

While not quite the sublime to the ridiculous, the third and final Tiger certainly lacked the luster of its predecessors and was sold as a Hillman rather than a Sunbeam, the old Rootes group now owned by Chrysler.  Based on the Hillman Avenger (1970-1981), a competent if unexciting family car, the Avenger Tiger was initially a one-off built for motor shows (they used to be a thing) but such was the reaction a production run was arranged and, based on the Avenger GT, it was a genuine improvement, fitted with dual Weber carburetors on a high-compression cylinder head with larger valves and improved porting.  The power increase was welcome but wasn’t so dramatic as to demand any modification of the GT’s suspension beyond a slight stiffening of the springs.  On the road, the well-sorted RWD (rear wheel drive) dynamics meant it was good to drive and the performance was a notch above the competition at the same price point although Chrysler never devoted the resources to develop it into a machine which could have been competitive with Ford’s Escort in racing and rallying.  Despite that, when sold in the US as the Plymouth Cricket (1971-1972) the car won the demanding “Press on Regardless” rally although that wasn't enough to convince many Americans to buy the thing.  The first run of 200-odd Tigers early in 1972 were all in “Sundance” yellow with a black stripe (and in case that was too subtle, a “Tiger” decal adorned the rear quarter panels) but “Wardance” red was an option when an additional batch of 400 was made to meet demand.

A poster from Esso’s brilliantly successful “Put a Tiger in your Tank” campaign”.

Now, a remoteness between a product and the motifs used in its advertising is unexceptional but in 1959 when Esso in the US launched its “Put a Tiger in Your Tank” campaign, the concept was still quite novel but the abstraction (full up your car with Esso gas (petrol) and you’ll gain the power of a tiger) resonated and the campaign is today recognized as one of the most successful of the era.  Esso had, off and on, for decades used tigers as corporate symbols and the big cat had been the centre of a campaign in the UK in 1953 to promote gas sales after the end of post-war petrol rationing but that tiger had been a ferocious beast, something like the often hungry ones one would not wish meet in the wild.  The documentary evidence from the time suggests the Esso’s lethal looking Panthera tigris made it “just another advertisement” but when the US agencies re-imagined their big cat as something friendly and playful, it really caught the public imagination and created a number of minor industries in children’s toys, key-chains, piggy banks, buttons, pins, pens tiger masks, party glasses, coffee mugs, T-Shirts and even “tiger tails”, sold at Esso-branded gas stations to be attached to gas caps, the implication being to suggest there really was a “tiger in the tank”.

Esso’s original tiger in its “Esso for Extra” campaign which didn’t capture the hearts of UK consumers; perhaps memories of tiger hunting in the Raj were still too close.

The key word clearly was “tiger” because the cat was never named and within the corporation was referred to only as the “Whimsical Tiger”.  Genuinely, the friendly looking tiger seems to have transformed Esso’s image (it latter would suffer) and while the extent to which the campaign can be credited with the boom in Esso’s sales (they booked increases notably higher than their competitors), historians of the industry acknowledge the effect was significant.  The implications weren’t lost on advertising executives who learned the lesson that an emotional connection is often preferable to an intellectual one; while the UK’s earlier (zoologically a close to correct depiction) tiger certain conveyed the power and energy of the charismatic creature, it was the warm and friendly “Whimsical Tiger” which appealed to people and their children, the latter anxious to nudge their parents to buy gas from Esso in the hope of getting another plush toy tiger.

Pontiac GTO advertising, 1965 (G.T.O. also sometimes used in documents).

Pontiac definitely had Esso’s “British Tiger” in mind when they began using the big cat in advertising the GTO (1964-1974), the “male market” definitely the target and the messaging all about power and aggression.  Introduced in late 1963, the GTO was “an option package” designed to circumvent GM’s (General Motors) corporate-wide ban on such a thing existing and although conceived as a niche product, immediately it proved so popular (and profitable) that GM abandoned their principles and authorized on-going production.  The GTO is often referred to as the “first muscle car” (a formula which would come to be explained as “a big powerful engine from a large, heavy full-size put into a smaller, lighter vehicle) and while that’s arguable, it was certainly the 1964 GTO which defined the original 1960s “muscle car”.  Actually, the formula, on both sides of the Atlantic, had been in use since the inter-war years but what was unique about the US of the mid-1960s was a combination of circumstances: A booming economy and a large and growing cohort of males aged 17-25 with the cash or credit rating to afford to buy muscle cars.  Really, there was probably no animal on earth better suited to advertising something like the GTO and soon the imagery was all-pervasive, “Tiger Gold” added to the color chart.  Even before the release of the GTO, Pontiac had used a tiger theme in its advertising but it’s the GTO with which it became most associated.

Pontiac GTO advertising, 1965.  Now, were a company to use a tiger skin to try to sell something, they'd be cancelled.  Times have changed.

The original GTO wasn’t quite as muscular as the original press car provided to Car & Driver magazine for their infamous “comparison test” against a Ferrari 250 GTO, printed in the March 1964 edition.  That Pontiac GTO had not only a much bigger engine but was also modified to the point it was close to race-ready and was certainly nothing like the ones in showrooms but despite that deceptive and misleading trick, the ones customers could buy possessed sufficient charm to convince over 32,000 people to pay the retail price, some six times the marketing department’s projections.  Whether the use of tigers in the advertising and promotional material much contributed to the popularity isn’t known but as a piece of name association it worked not at all; by 1966, by which time Pontiac was shipping close to 100,000 GTOs annually, it was obvious males aged 17-25 had settled on the nickname “the Goat”, not an animal which would have been an obvious choice to apply to a high-performance car with youth appeal.  However, that’s how the English language works, and “the Goat” was a playful, phonetic shortening of GTO although recent revisionists have suggested it was an allusion to the car being “the greatest of all time” (that link with “goat” coming much later) or in “eating up the competition”, the GTO was emulating the goat’s reputation for eating just about anything.  There’s nothing to support these quasi-theories and there’s no doubt the nickname came from nothing but sound-play. Beginning in 1967, Pontiac switched the theme of its advertising from the tigeresque to “The Great One”.

Another big, dangerous cat: Advertisement for the 1976 Mercury Cougar.  Despite the apparent implications, not until early in the twenty-first century would “cougar” pick up the informal meaning: “an older woman who seeks sexual relationships with much younger men”; Mercury truly was ahead of the linguistic curve.

The big cats have provided names for manufacturers to use for cars; there have been Tigers, Lions, Jaguars, Cheetahs and Leopards (there is even a Leopard tank, in production since 1965 and now in its third generation) and there was also a Mercury Cougar.  Introduced in 1967 as a kind of up-market Mustang, it’s significance is not only that immediately it was highly successful but that it was the last truly successful Mercury; with some three million sold over 35-odd seasons, it was the marque’s biggest selling nameplate although from the late 1970s, Cougars bore scant resemblance, physically or conceptually to the classic original.  The press reports in 1967 made much of Ford’s admission the Mercury was an attempt to “build a Jaguar”, noting the statement was intended not to be read literally but rather an indication of a wish to build the sort of car which would appeal to someone who would buy a Jaguar.  The consensus at the time was Mercury had succeeded in building a fine car although whether many Jaguar customers were convinced isn’t known.  Some of the Cougars produced in the first four seasons of its long life were legitimate parts of the muscle car ecosystem but by 1976 when the above advertisement appeared, built on the intermediate Ford Torino’s platform, the Cougar it was little more than a slightly smaller Ford Thunderbird; that was bad enough but things would get worse.

Suicide

Suicide (pronounced soo-uh-sahyd)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Terms like “professional suicide”, “commercial suicide” and “career suicide” are, even if the era of trigger warnings, still used as is “political suicide” and it is a word politicians like to use (of their opponents).  Paul Keating (b 1944; Prime Minister of Australia 1991-1996), having read the Fightback! political manifesto prepared for the 1993 general election by the Liberal Party’s then leader Dr John Hewson (b 1946; leader of the Liberal Party of Australia 1990-1994), declared it “the longest suicide note in Australian political history”, a critique which seems first to have been made by a member of the Canberra press gallery although a similar phrase had a decade earlier been used in the UK by Labour Party politician Sir Gerald Kaufman (1930–2017) when damning his own party’s 1983 platform.  An extraordinary 650(!) pages, Fightback! reflected well on Dr Hewson’s background as an academic neo-liberal economist but as something to persuade voters to vote Liberal it was monumentally bizarre and nobody has since attempted anything like it.  Dubbed at the time (for many a good reason) "the unlosable election", lose in 1993 Dr Hewson did and to this day Fightback! is blamed.

Bloody Bob hasn't!, John Clarke (1948–2017) and Bryan Dawe (b 1948), ABC Television 7:30 report, Monday 15 March, 1993.  

A footnote to the unexpected result in the 1993 election was an exposure of the dangers inherent in pre-recording television material for later broadcast.  The conventional wisdom was a significant factor in Labor's impending defeat was that Mr Keating allowed his personal ambition to become prime-minister prevail over the interests of the party and in deposing Bob Hawke (1929–2019; Prime Minister of Australia 1983-1991) who'd won the previous four elections, he'd sacrificed any hope of gaining a fifth term.  The satirists John Clarke (1948–2017) and Bryan Dawe (b 1948) produced a skit using their “pseudo interview” technique in which they followed the documentary model of the ABC’s (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) Labor in Power series; they depicted the political rivals as two children squabbling over whose turn it was with the toy.  The final question asked “Paul” which of them now had the toy to which he replied “Bloody Bob hasn’t!”.  The punch-line would have worked had Mr Keating had the decency to lose the election but of course he won so the joke went flat. 

UK Prime Minister Lord Salisbury (Robert Arthur Talbot Gascoyne-Cecil, 1830–1903; UK Prime Minister for thirteen years variously 1885-1902) remarked of the long, sad decline of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895) that the deceased had proved to be “chief mourner at his own protracted funeral” and confided to colleagues “the man committed suicide as surely as if he blown his brains out.”.  Kaiser Wilhelm II (1859–1941; German Emperor & King of Prussia 1888-1918) remarked of the ill-advised book published by one politician whose career had imploded that it was probably the “…first time a man has committed suicide twice.”  Not noted for his wit, that may have been Wilhelm’s finest moment although it does vie with his observation on hearing that, in deference to the state of war between their two nations, the British Royal family was changing its name to “Windsor”.  The Kaiser said he hoped soon to attend a performance in Berlin of William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) “The Merry Wives of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.”.

Comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) arranged a few “suicides” and in a nice touch sometimes appeared at the funeral as chief mourner whereas Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) in similar circumstances seems to have restricted himself to sending a wreath and, for the especially exalted, authorizing a state funeral.  Although doubtlessly it's all just bad luck and coincidence, it is striking how many sources on various platforms have compiled lists of the remarkable number of "suicides" in some way associated with Bill (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) & crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013).  It's an impressively large toll but, in fairness, Socks (1989-2009; FCOTUS (First Cat of the United States 1993-2001)) did live an untypically long 20-odd years although he escaped the Clinton's clutches after 2001.

A pioneer in the field of suicidology, Dr Shneidman’s publication record was indicative of his specialization.

Dr Edwin Shneidman (1918-2009) was a clinical psychologist who practiced as a thanatologist (a practitioner in the field of thanatology (the scientific study of death and the practices associated with it, including the study of the needs of the terminally ill and their families); the construct of thanatology being thanato- (from the Ancient Greek θάνατος (thánatos) (death)) +‎ -logy.  The suffix -ology was formed from -o- (as an interconsonantal vowel) +‎ -logy.  The origin in English of the -logy suffix lies with loanwords from the Ancient Greek, usually via Latin and French, where the suffix (-λογία) is an integral part of the word loaned (eg astrology from astrologia) since the sixteenth century.  French picked up -logie from the Latin -logia, from the Ancient Greek -λογία (-logía).  Within Greek, the suffix is an -ία (-ía) abstract from λόγος (lógos) (account, explanation, narrative), and that a verbal noun from λέγω (légō) (I say, speak, converse, tell a story).  In English the suffix became extraordinarily productive, used notably to form names of sciences or disciplines of study, analogous to the names traditionally borrowed from the Latin (eg astrology from astrologia; geology from geologia) and by the late eighteenth century, the practice (despite the disapproval of the pedants) extended to terms with no connection to Greek or Latin such as those building on French or German bases (eg insectology (1766) after the French insectologie; terminology (1801) after the German Terminologie).  Within a few decades of the intrusion of modern languages, combinations emerged using English terms (eg undergroundology (1820); hatology (1837)).  In this evolution, the development may be though similar to the latter-day proliferation of “-isms” (fascism; feminism etc).Like many working in the field, Dr Shneidman discussed the effect suicides have on the friends and family of those who took their own lives and there are to these events many responses beyond the obvious.

Geli Raubal.

One especially curious relationship in the anyway strange life of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) was that he enjoyed with his niece Geli Raubal (1908–1931), the daughter of his elder half-sister Angela (1883–1949) who acted as his housekeeper; despite much speculation, it has never fully been explained and quite what transpired between them will probably never be known.  Most historians have concluded Hitler was obsessed with Geli although whether that meant he was “in love” divides opinion, a substantial body of those working in the field suspecting Hitler was no more capable of love than he was of true friendship.  One day in 1931, in the room he’d allotted to her in his Munich apartment, after Hitler had been driven off for a speaking engagement in Hamburg, Geli committed suicide, shooting herself with her uncle’s Walther PP pistol; she was then 23.  The (pre Nazi-state) Munich police ruled the death a suicide but, inevitably, there has long been speculation about her death, the most popular “theory” being Hitler, in a rage, accidently or intentionally shooting her after discovering her pregnancy, variations of the speculation suggesting the unborn child was either his or that of another man.  There is no substantive evidence to support any of these notions but Hitler’s subsequent reaction and apparent grief was well documented and from the moment he heard of her death he never again ate meat, telling the noted hunter and definitely carnivorous Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945): “It’s like eating a corpse.”

Suicide Squads

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pineapples.

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

Suicide doors

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

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

2021 Rolls-Royce Phantom VIII Tempus.

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

1971 Ford Thunderbird Landau.

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

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

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

LBJ's 1964 Lincoln Continental convertible.

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

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

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

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

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

2019 Lincoln Continental Eightieth Anniversary Edition.

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

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

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

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

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

1968 Vanden Plas Princess 4 Litre (DM4) "facelift prototype".

Vanden Plas did in 1968 belatedly plan an update of the DM4 which sort of "brought it into the 1950s" although for the target market, that may have been no bad thing.  By then however Harold Wilson's (1916–1995; UK prime minister 1964-1970 & 1974-1976) Labour Party government had engineered the "great coming together" which was the ultimately doomed British Leyland and with Jaguar also in the conglomerate, their much more advanced Daimler DS420 (1968-1992) limousine was obviously superior and there was no place for the "modernized DM4", the grafting of quad headlights and a one-piece windscreen not enough to save the relic from extinction.  Along with New Zealand's curious hybrid model of the 1970s, the Wilson government was the West's only serious attempt to combine political freedom with a quasi-socialist planned (if not quite command) economy and the reactions to the lessons provided by British Leyland (and other state ventures) contributed to the hegemony of the neo-liberal model which for the last four-decades odd has done what it's done.  

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

1960 Facel Vega Excellence EX1.

The four-door Facel Vegas featured suicide doors which were among the most potentially dangerous because of the dubious (though elegant) engineering in the locking mechanisms.  Note also the "dog leg" of the A-Pillar (windscreen), a styling trend borrowed from Detroit which caused many injuries to knees and one victim was Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974) who who in August, 1960 suffered a hit during his doomed campaign for that year's presidential election.  It resulted in a staphylococci infection which for two weeks confined him to bed in Walter Reed Hospital at a time when his opponent (John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was travelling the country campaigning and for a born politician like Nixon it wouldn't have been much consolation that his bedside well-wishers included Lyndon Johnson and Barry Goldwater (1909–1998; Republican Party nominee for the 1964 US presidential election); hearing those two were walking down the corridor, he may have wondered if he could fake his own death.  One biographer suggested the injury happened because his team deliberately chose to use a cheaper Chevrolet rather than a "larger" Cadillac in order to project a less elitist image.  While the reason for the choice of car was true, the impact injury would anyway likely have happened because, beginning with the 1959 range, for reasons of production-line rationalization, Chevrolet & Cadillac (along with corporate stable-mates Buick, Oldsmobile & Pontiac) all shared GM's corporate C-Body platform and while between divisions there were sometimes dimensional differences (notably in wheelbases), the front doors, A-Pillars and seat mounting points were identical in all.    

If compatible (which seems improbable given the novelty of this French approach to door-latch design), the Dickson locks would have been a worthwhile addition for the Facel Vega Excellence (1956-1964) which, in a triumph of fashion over function, had no B-Pillar (ie the central one between the doors) at all, the suicide doors secured only by a locking mechanism in the door sill, something which worked well in static testing but on the road, lateral stresses induced during cornering meant the doors were apt to “fly open”, something to ponder in the pre-seat-belt era.  The completely pillarless look did however look good so there was that.  One of the most glamorous machines of the era, many celebrities were drawn to Facel Vegas but the most infamous association was with the author Albert Camus (1913–1960), killed instantly when the FV3B in which he was a passenger crashed into a tree; the car was being driven by his publisher, Michel Gallimard (1917–1960), who was mortally injured, dying within days.  Although the accident happened on a long, straight section of road, the conditions were icy and the official cause was listed as "...a loss of control while travelling at an excessive speed for the conditions".  The FV3B was a two-door coupé so there was no link with the suicide doors used on the Excellence, the possibility of tyre failure has always been speculative and there's now little support for the conspiracy theory (which long circulated) suggesting the KGB may have sabotaged the car because of the author's anti-Soviet stance.  Powered by a variety of Chrysler V8s (the "Hemi", "Poly" & "Wedge" all at times used), the "big" Facel Vegas (1954-1964; some 506 coupés, 156 sedans and a reputed 11 cabriolets) were France's finest cars of the post-war years but the decision to produce a smaller range doomed the company.  The concept was sound, the market existed and the product was well-designed but the French-made four-cylinder engine proved chronically (and insolubly) unreliable; by the time a version powered by a robust Volvo unit was ready, warranty claims and the costs of the re-engineering had driven Facel Vega bankrupt.

Lure of the tragic

Evelyn McHale: "The most beautiful suicide".

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

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

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

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

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