Showing posts sorted by date for query Niche. Sort by relevance Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by date for query Niche. Sort by relevance Show all posts

Sunday, December 1, 2024

Chopstick

Chopstick (pronounced chop-stik)

(1) A harmonically and melodically simple waltz for piano played typically with the forefinger of each hand and sometimes having an accompanying part for a second player.  Originally, it was called The Celebrated Chop Waltz, written in 1877 by British composer Arthur de Lulli (the pen name of Euphemia Allen (1861-1949)); it’s used often as a two-finger exercise for those learning the piano and then name comes from the idea of the two fingers being arrayed in a chopstickesque way (should be used with an initial capital).

(2) In hand games, a game in which players hold up a number of fingers on each hand and try, through certain moves, to eliminate their opponent's hands.

(3) A pair of thin sticks (of ivory, wood, plastic etc), typically some 10 inches (230 mm) in length, used as eating utensils by the Chinese, Japanese, and others in East Asia as well as by those anywhere in the world eating food associated with these places.

(4) As an ethnic slur, a person of East Asian appearance.

(5) In fishing gear, a long straight stick forming part of various fishing tackle arrangements (obsolete).

(6) In parts of Australia where individuals are subject to “attack” by “swooping” magpies, the use of cable ties on bicycle helmets to produce long, thin (ie chopstickish) protrusions which act as a “bird deterrent”.

(7) In automotive slang, the “parking guides” (in some places known as “gutter scrapers”) mounted at a vehicle’s extremities to assist when parking or navigating tight spaces.  They have been replaced by sensors and cameras but were at the time an impressively effective low-tech solution.

1590s (contested): The construct was chop + stick.  The use to describe the eating utensil was first documented in 1637 and may have been a transfer of the sense from the earlier use to describe fishing tackle (in use since at least 1615) which was based on the physical resemblance (ie long & thin).  The “chop” element was long listed by dictionaries as being from the Chinese Pidgin English chop (-chop) (quick), a calque from the Chinese 筷子 (kuàizi) (chopstick”), from 快 (kuài) (quick) but this is now thought improbable because there is no record of Chinese Pidgin English until the eighteenth century.  The notion of the link with Chinese Pidgin English appeared first in the 1880s with the rationale: “The Chinese name of the article is ‘kwai-tsz (speedy-ones)” which was a decade later refined with the explanation “Possibly the inventor of the present word, hearing that the Chinese name had this meaning, and accustomed to the phrase chop-chop for ‘speedily,’ used chop as a translation.  This became orthodoxy after being picked-up for inclusion in the OED (Oxford English Dictionary (1893)), a publication so authoritative it spread to most until English language dictionaries from the late 19th century onwards.  The chronological impossibility of the Pidgin English theory was first noted by Kingsley Bolton (b 1947) in Chinese English: A Sociolinguistic History (2003).  The English form is now thought to come simply from the use of the Chinese, modified over time and oral transmission.  The current orthodoxy is the Pidgin English chop (quick; fast) was from the Cantonese word chāu (快) (quick).  The construct of the Chinese kuàizi (筷子) was kuài (筷) (quick) + zi (子) (a diminutive suffix).  Stick was from the Middle English stikke (stick, rod, twig), from the Old English sticca (twig or slender branch from a tree or shrub (also “rod, peg, spoon”), from the Proto-West Germanic stikkō, from the Proto-Germanic stikkô (pierce, prick), from the primitive Indo-European verb stig, steyg & teyg- (to pierce, prick, be sharp).  It was cognate with the Old Norse stik, the Middle Dutch stecke & stec, the Old High German stehho, the German Stecken (stick, staff), the Saterland Frisian Stikke (stick) and the West Flemish stik (stick).  The word stick was applied to many long, slender objects closely or vaguely resembling twigs or sticks including by the early eighteenth century candles, dynamite by 1869, cigarettes by 1919 (the slang later extended to “death sticks” & “cancer sticks).  Chopstick, chopstickful, chopstickery & chopsticker are nouns, chopsticking & chopsticked are verbs and chopstickish & chopstick-like are adjectives; the noun plural is chopsticks and the word is almost always used in the plural (sometimes as “a pair of chopsticks”).  The adjective chopstickesque is non-standard.

Niche market: a pair of chopsticks in 18-carat gold, diamonds, pearls, and ebony by Erotic Jewellery, Gold Coast, Australia.  The chopsticks were listed at Aus$139,000 and have the environmental benefit being of endlessly reusable and are also dual-purpose, the pearl mounted at the end of one chopstick detachable and able to be worn as a necklace.

In English, chopstick has proved productive.  A chopsticker is one who uses chopsticks, chopstickery describes the skill or art of using chopsticks, a chopstickful describes the maximum quantity of food which can be held in one pair of chopsticks (a la “mouthful”), chopstick land was a slang term for China (used sometimes of East Asia generally) but is now listed as a micro-aggression, chopstick legs (always in the plural) is a fashion industry term describing long, thin legs (a usually desirable trait), chopstickology is a humorous term used by those teaching others the art of using chopsticks (on the model of “mixology” (the art of making cocktails), “Lohanology” (the study of Lindsay Lohan and all things Lohanic), “sockology” (the study of socks) etc), a chopstick rest is a small device upon which one's chopsticks may be placed while not in use (known also as a chopstick stand), chopstickless means lacking or not using, chopsticks, chopsticky is a adjective (the comparative “more chopsticky”, the superlative “most chopsticky”) meaning (1) resembling a chopstick (ie “long and thin”) (chopstick-like & chopstickish the alternative adjectives in this context), (2) suitable for the use of chopsticks or (3) characterized by the use of chopsticks (the companion noun chopsticky meaning “the state of being chopstickish”.  Chopstickism was once used of things considered Chinese or Asian in character but is now regarded as a racist slur (the non-standard chopstickistic similarly now proscribed).

They may be slender and light but because annual use is measured in the millions, there is a significant environmental impact associated with chopsticks including deforestation, waste and carbon emissions.  Beginning in the early twenty-first century, a number of countries in East Asia have taken measures designed to reduce the extent of the problem including regulatory impositions, technological innovation and public awareness campaigns.  In 2006, the Chinese government levied a 5% consumption tax on disposable wooden chopsticks and later began a “Clean Your Plate” publicity campaign to encourage sustainable dining practices.  In Japan, although disposable chopsticks (waribashi) remain common, some local governments (responsible for waste management) promote reusable options and businesses have been encouraged to offer reusable or bamboo-based alternatives although the RoK (Republic of Korea (South Korea)) went further and promoted reusable metal chopsticks, devices which could last a lifetime.

The Chork

Although the materials used in construction and the possibilities of recycling have attracted some interest, there has in hundreds of years been no fundamental change in the chopstick’s design, simply because it long ago was (in its core function) perfected and can’t be improved upon.  However, in 2016, the US fast food chain Panda Express (which specializes what it describes as “American Chinese cuisine”) displayed the chork (the construct being ch(opstick) + (f)ork).  Designed presumably for the benefit of barbaric Westerners unable to master a pair of chopsticks (one of the planet’s most simple machines) the chork had been developed by Brown Innovation Group (BIG) which first revealed its existence in 2010.  BIG has created a website for the chork which explains the three correct ways to use the utensil: (1) Employ the fork end as one might a conventional fork, (2) break the chork in two and use like traditional chopsticks or (3) use what BIG call cheater/training mode in which the chopstick component is used with the fork part still attached.  Unfortunately for potential chorkers, Panda Express used the chork only as a promotional tool for Panda Express' General Tso's chicken launch but they remain available from BIG in packs of 12 & 24, both manufactured in the PRC.

Richard Nixon, chopsticks and détente

Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US president 1969-1974, centre) became famous for some things and infamous for others but one footnote in the history of his administration was that he banned soup.  In 1969, Nixon hosted a state dinner for Pierre Trudeau (1919–2000; prime minister of Canada 1968-1979 & 1980-1984) and the next day complained to HR Haldeman (1926–1993; White House chief of staff 1969-1973) that the formal dinners “take forever”, suggesting “Why don’t we just leave out the soup course?”, adding “Men don’t really like soup.” (other than the waitresses, state dinners were then substantially a male preserve).  Haldeman knew his socially awkward boss well and had his suspicions so he called the president's valet and asked, “Was there anything wrong with the president’s suit after that dinner last night?  Why yes…”, the valet responded, “…he spilled soup down the vest.”  Not until Gerald Ford (1913–2006; US president 1974-1977) assumed the presidency was soup restored to the White House menus to the relief of the chefs who couldn’t believe a dinner was really a dinner without a soup course.

A chopstick neophyte in Beijing: Zhou Enlai (1898–1976; premier of the People's Republic of China (PRC) 1949-1976, left), Richard Nixon (centre) and Zhang Chunqiao (1917–2005, right) at the welcome banquet for President Nixon's visit to the PRC, Tiananmen Square, Beijing, 26 February 1972.

The event was not a “state visit” because at the time no formal diplomatic relations existed between the two nations (the US still recognized the Taiwan-based RoC (Republic of China (which Beijing regards still as a “renegade province”)) as the legitimate government of China). For that reason, the trip was described as an “official visit”, a term not part of diplomatic protocol.  There are in history a few of these fine distinctions: technically, diplomatic relations were never re-established between Berlin and Paris after the fall of the Third Republic in 1940, ambassadors were never accredited so Otto Abetz (1903-1958), who fulfilled the role between 1940-1944 should be referred to as “de facto” German ambassador (as the letters patent made clear, he acted with full ambassadorial authority).  In July 1949, a French court handed Abetz a twenty-year sentence for crimes against humanity; released in 1954, he died in 1958 in a traffic accident on the Cologne-Ruhr autobahn and there are conspiracy theorists who suspect the death was “an assassination”.  The de facto ambassador was the great uncle of Eric Abetz (b 1958; Liberal Party senator for Tasmania, Australia 1994-2022, member of the Tasmanian House of assembly since 2024).

Longing for a chork.

Both the US and the PRC had their own reasons for wishing to emerge from the “diplomatic deep-freeze” (Moscow something of a pivot) and it was this event which was instrumental in beginning the process of integrating the PRC into the international system.  The “official visit” also introduced into English the idiomatic phrase “Nixon in China” (there are variations) which describes the ability of a politician with an impeccable reputation of upholding particular political values to perform an action in seeming defiance of them without jeopardizing his support or credibility.  For his whole political career Nixon had been a virulent anti-communist and was thus able to make the tentative approach to the PRC (and later détente with the Soviet Union) in a way which would not have been possible for someone without the same history.  In the same way the Democratic Party’s Bill Clinton (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) was able during the 1990s to embark on social welfare “reform” in a way no Republican administration could have achieved.

The chopstick as a hair accessory: Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left) in The Parent Trap (1998) and Hilary Duff (b 1987, right) at Nickelodeon's 15th Annual Kids Choice Awards, Barker Hangar, Santa Monica, California, April, 2002.  These outfits might now be described as "cultural appropriation".

Following the visit, there was also a culinary ripple in the US.  Since the nineteenth century, Chinese restaurants had been a fixture in many US cities but the dishes they served were often very different from those familiar in China and some genuinely were local creations; fortune cookies began in San Francisco courtesy of a paperback edition of “Chinese Proverbs” and all the evidence suggests egg rolls were invented in New York.  The news media’s coverage of the visit attracted great interest and stimulated interest in “authentic” Chinese food and the details of what was on the menus was published.  Noting the banquet on the first night featured shark’s fin soup, steamed chicken with coconut and almond junket (a type of pudding), one enterprising chap was within 24 hours offering in his Manhattan Chinese restaurant recreation of each dish, a menu which remained popular for some months after the president’s return.  Mr Nixon’s favorite meal during the visit was later revealed to be Peking duck.

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Insipid & Sapid

Insipid (pronounced in-sip-id)

(1) Without distinctive, interesting, or stimulating qualities; vapid.

(2) Something or someone dull or uninteresting; lacking character or definition.

(3) Food or drink lacking sufficient taste to be pleasing; bland, unappetizingly flavorless.

1610–1620: From the sixteenth century French insipid (without taste or perceptible flavor), from the Late Latin insipidus (tasteless), the construct being in- (in the sense of negation) + -sipidus (savory; tasty), a form of sapidus (sapid) from sapere (have a taste (and used also to mean “be wise”)).  The figurative (ie not of food or drink) meaning (uninteresting, dull) emerged in English in the 1640s and it’s believed this was under the influence of Medieval Latin or the Romance languages, where it was a secondary sense.  The noun insipidity was in use by the early seventeenth century.  The choice of synonym can depend on whether what is being described is food & drink or something (or someone) else and the options include banal, bland, ho-hum, innocuous, trite, vapid, tasteless, bland, wearish, boring, vacuous, dull, bland, characterless & colourless.  In English, in some senses the use has been influenced by insipient (unwise, foolish, stupid; lacking wisdom).  Insipient was from the Middle English insipient & incipient, from the Old French insipient, ultimately from the Latin īnsipiēns.  For the fastidious, the comparative is “more insipient”, the superlative “most insipient”).  Insipid is an adjective, insipidity & insipidness are nouns and insipidly is an adverb.

Sapid (pronounced sap-id)

(1) Having taste or flavor (and used specifically to mean “savory”).

(2) Agreeable to the taste; palatable.

(3) Agreeable, as to the mind; to one's liking.

1625-1635: From the Latin sapidus (tasty), from sapere or sapiō (to taste).  The original meaning in English was “having the power of affecting the organs of taste (when used of food & drink or other substances)” while the figurative sense suggested something “gratifying to the mind or its tastes”.  The adjective sipid has the same meaning as sapid and was a mid-nineteenth century back-formation from insipid (on the model of “gruntled” from “disgruntled”) whereas sapid was a direct borrowing from Latin.  Both sapid & sipid can be used to mean “having a taste or flavor; savoury” but unlike insipid which remains in wide use (both in the original context of food & drink and figuratively), neither have ever attained much currency and it’s not unreasonable for both to be listed as obsolete.  Sapid is an adjective, sapidity & sapidness are nouns.

The infamously insipid Koryo Burger, the in-flight delicacy offered by Air Koryo, national carrier of Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK; North Korea).

In a sense, what words flourish (or at least endure) in English is because of the operation of something of a popularity contest.  While there are style guides, text books and grammar Nazis to tell us which words to use and in what manner, English has no body such as the French government’s Académie Française (council for matters pertaining to the French language) which publishes the a variety of documents which may be said collectively to define what is “official French”.  The Académie had an interesting political history, beginning as a private venture it received the imprimatur of both church & state when in 1635 it was granted a royal charter by Cardinal Richelieu (1585-1642; chief minister (chancellor or prime-minister) to the King of France 1624-1642) during the reign of Louis XIII (1601–1643; King of France 1610-1643) but was dissolved 1793 during the French Revolution (1789), partly because of the mob’s anti-royalist feelings but also because there was some resentment among the peasantry (an in the provinces generally) to the notion of a Parisian elite deciding whose dialect was “right” and whose was “wrong”.  That’s exactly the same dispute which now bubbles in US universities between (1) those who insist there is “correct” standard English while other forms are dialectal variations (ethnic, regional, class etc) and (2) those who argue for a cultural equivalency between all forms, most notably AAVE (African-American Vernacular English) and its many forks.  In 1795 the new regime in France created the Institut de France (Institute of France) as a kind of clearing house for all matters relating to what was “acceptable” French culture, absorbing some pre-existing scientific, literary and artistic bodies and it was to the institute that Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815) in 1803 restored the Académie Française as a division.

Portrait of Goethe, oil on paper by Italian artist Elia Bonetti (b 1983).

Spain’s Real Academia Española (Royal Academy of Spain) is a similar body but perhaps surprisingly (given all the stereotypes of the Prussians) there is in Germany no central authority defining the German language, several organizations and institutions working (cooperatively and not) together standardize and update things.  The most authoritative body for German orthography is the Rat für deutsche Rechtschreibung (Council for German Orthography), the membership of which includes representatives from other German-speaking countries (Austria, Switzerland et al) and its mandate extends to overseeing spelling and orthographic rules, something not without controversy, especially since the great spelling “reform” of 1996.  In the spirit of the post-1945 spirit of avoiding where possible the creation of all-powerful single institutions, it’s the Duden dictionary and Institut für Deutsche Sprache (Institute for the German Language) which exert great influence in in maintaining and documenting German vocabulary, grammar and usage, but both tend to be observational, recording changes in the language rather than seeking to enforce rules (ie they are descriptive rather than prescriptive).  German thus evolves through the combined influence of these institutions, public usage, and scholarly input, rather than through a single authoritative academy and internationally it’s probably the Goethe-Institut (Goethe Institute, named after the German author & philosopher Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)) which most promotes the study of German language & culture through its worldwide network of some 160 centres.

English is more democratic still, the survival of words and grammatical forms dependent on the users and even before the British Empire saw the tongue spread around the world the foreign influences were profound, the Latin, Greek, French & Germanic threads the most obvious and even to speak of the “Old English” is misleading to all but those in the field because to most, the “Old English” really isn’t recognizable as “English”.  Not only does modern English thus evolve but so do the other blends such as “Spanglish” (a hybrid of Spanish & English), Hinglish (Hindi & English) and its absurd to speak of “pure English”, even the way BBC announcers used to speak (in the so-called “RP” (received pronunciation) often including fragments picked up from the Raj and around the world.  While the Académie Française may try to keep French as pure as possible, English shamelessly is linguistically slutty.

Lindsay Lohan (with body-double) during filming of Irish Wish (Netflix, 2024) which the Daily Beast concluded wasn't exactly “insipid”.  The car is a Triumph TR4 (1961-1967), one of the early versions with a live rear axle, a detail probably of no significance in the plot-line.

In this democratic way, insipid has endured because it fills a niche that sapid & sipid never found, in both usage & meaning.  Vividly, insipid conveys the notion of something lacking flavor, excitement, or interest, whether literally (vapid food or drink) or figuratively (dull conversation or ideas).  This negative association has a broad and (regrettably) frequent application in everyday language, there so often being a need to decry things or people as uninteresting or failing to make an impact.  By contrast, although sapid & sipid both mean “food having flavour”, there’s less need because that’s expected and what’s usually sought is a way to say the quality is lacking and terms of emphasis came to be preferred: “flavoursome” “tasty” and such taking over although none were as precise as the practical & versatile “insipid” which proved the perfect one-word descriptor whether literally or figuratively.  Insipid is useful too because it’s nuanced in that it although used usually as negative, it’s also a “neutral word” in the sense of “bland”.  When the Daily Beast was searching for similes & metaphors in their review of Irish Wish (released in 2024 as the second edition of Lindsay Lohan’s three film Netflix deal), they opted also to “damn with faint praise” observing because the Netflix’s target audience “merely want to watch something that isn’t insipid and horribly made”, maybe the film (sort of) succeeded.  So insipid has survived because it fulfils needs while sapid & sipid are now little more than linguistic curiosities.

Insipid, sipid & sapid: The votes are in.

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.

Tuesday, November 5, 2024

Apricate

Apricate (pronounced ap-roh-keyt)

(1) To sunbathe, to bask in the sun.

(2) To disinfect and freshen by exposing to the sun; to sun.

(3) Figuratively, to uncover secrets (based on the idea of “exposing them to the light”.

1620s: The construct was the Latin aprīc(us) (sunny; exposed to the sun; having lots of sunshine; warmed by the sun) +‎ -ate.  Aprīcus was from aperiō (to open; to uncover), from the primitive Indo-European hepo (off, from) & hwer- (to cover, shut) + -cus (the suffix forming relational adjectives from nouns).  The Latin verb was apricari (to bask in the sun; to warm oneself by sitting in the sunlight).  The suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  The forms were not cognate with “apricot”, although the latter was influenced by aprīcus.  The English verb apricate became rare in the twentieth century and use spiked only in the last decade but this is thought a statistical quirk because of the proliferation of instances on the internet explaining the rarity.  When actually used functionally, it’s mostly as a poetic or literary device, often to capture the simple pleasure and peacefulness of “sitting in the sun” although in politics and journalism there is the figurative sense of “to uncover secrets” (based on the idea of “exposing them to the light (of publicity)”.  Apricate, apricating & apricated are verbs and apricity & aprication are nouns; the noun plural is aprications.

The noun apricity (“the light or warmth of the Sun” and in its occasional use often use to impart the idea of “the warmth of the Sun in winter”) was from the Latin aprīcitās (the noun of quality from aprīcus) is said by more than one source to be the most commonly used variant (in the sense of “least rare”) but the numbers are distorted by the gathered data including the internet’s many lists of rare, obscure or weird words.  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.

Snowbird: An apricating Lindsay Lohan on the Greek island of Mykonos in the Aegean, May. 2024.  Lindsay Lohan is a “snowbird” (in the sense of one who in winter travels to warmer, sunnier places).

Among those who long for apricity are the so-called “snowbirds” (those who avoid the cold by travelling to warmer climate).  Surprisingly perhaps, the use to describe those who flee the chill for the warmth of Florida or the Greek Islands, isn’t documented until the 1950s and for more than half a century before that, a “snowbird” was a cocaine dealer, the use extending by the 1970s to those with the habit of the odd line.  Only a few lexicographers acknowledge the (debatable) existence of “apricitie” (the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) including it though it doesn’t appear in the concise version (COED) and all appear to cite the entry in Henry Cockeram’s English Dictionarie or An Interpreter of Hard English Words (1623): “The warmenes of the Sunne in winter”.  Even among rare words, “apricitie” is a rarity but give the rhythmic possibilities and the obvious nostalgic value, it surprising it’s not more used as a literary device.  The lexicographers are probably sceptical because of the suggestion Mr Cockeram’s entry was either (1) a spelling mistake or (2) his own invention based on the better credentialed “apricity” (both not uncommon phenomenon in the early dictionaries).

Signature Claw Clip Petite in Dark Havana by Apricité Studios.

Maybe apricitie got tared with the brush of association with other obscure words because in his Letters to Squire Pedant (1856) Lorenzo Altisonant (Samuel Klinefelter Hoshour, (1803-1883 and described as “an emigrant to the West”) wrote: “These humicubations [the act or practice of lying on the ground], the nocturnal irrorations [a sprinkling or wetting with dew], and the dankishness [the quality of being dankish (dark, damp & humid)] of the atmosphere, generated by a want of apricity, were extremely febrifacients [tending to induce fever].  So maybe it got a bad name but apricate, apricite, apricity and the other forms are (1) easy to spell, (2) easy to pronounce and (3) can be used to describe something often described so it’s surprising there’s never been much of a revival; in English there is no discernible pattern about why some words are resuscitated and flourish and some remain moribund.  Actually, because the politics of climate change have made what used to be a “safe, go-to” topic of conversation now at least potentially dangerous, it may be there’s a revival of interest in ways to discuss the subject and not just the sunshine.  A “vacuum-cleaner” language, shamelessly English has for centuries adopted words for any number of tongues, retaining some (modified and not) while discarding others.  So it’s profligate in its forms and if one tires of describing the colder months as “chilly” or “wintery”, there’s “hibernal”, “brumal” or “hiemal”.  Then there’s snow and for that there’s “subnivean” (situated or occurring under the snow) or “niveous” (of or relating to snow; resembling snow (as in whiteness); snowy).  There are organisms (they’re probably not best described as “creatures”) which inhabit a niche in which things are subnivean and they are known as “psychrophilic” (thriving at a relatively low temperature), as opposed to “thermophiles” (which like it hot) and “mesophiles” (which insist on living in a “goldilocks zone”).  All of these can be used figuratively so women shivering in offices where men set the thermostat (more than one study has confirmed this really is a thing) can call their tormenters thermophiles.

Tuesday, October 29, 2024

Lettrism

Lettrism (pronounced let-riz-uhm)

A French avant-garde art and literary movement established in 1946 and inspired, inter alia, by Dada and surrealism.  The coordinate term is situationism.

1946: From French lettrisme, a variant of lettre (letter).  Letter dates from the late twelfth century and was from the From Middle English letter & lettre, from the Old French letre, from the Latin littera (letter of the alphabet (in plural); epistle; literary work), from the Etruscan, from the Ancient Greek διφθέρ (diphthérā) (tablet) (and related to diphtheria).  The form displaced the Old English bōcstæf (literally “book staff” in the sense of “the alphabet’s symbols) and ǣrendġewrit (literally “message writing” in the sense of “a written communication longer than a “note” (ie, something like the modern understanding of “a letter”)).  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  Letterism is listed by some sources as an alternative spelling but in literary theory it used in a different sense.  Lettrism and lettrist are nouns; the noun plural is letterists.

Letter from letterist Lindsay Lohan (2003).

A Lettrist was (1) one who practiced Lettrism or (2) a supporter or advocate of Lettrism.  Confusingly, in the English-speaking world, the spelling Letterist has been used in this context, presumably because it’s a homophone (if pronounced in the “correct (U)” way) and the word is “available” because although one who keeps as diary is a “diarist”, even the most prolific of inveterate letter writers are not called “letterists”.  The preferred term for a letter-writer is correspondent, especially for those who writes letters regularly or in an official capacity.  The Letterist International (LI) was a Paris-based collective of radical artists and cultural theorists which existed 1952-1957 before forming the Situationist International (SI), a trans-European, unstructured collective of artists and political thinkers which eventually became more a concept than a movement.  Influenced by the criticism that philosophy had tended increasingly to fail at the moment of its actualization, the SI, although it assumed the inevitability of social revolution, always maintained many (cross-cutting) strands of expectations of the form(s) this might take.  Indeed, just as a world-revolution did not follow the Russian revolutions of 1917, the events of May, 1968 failed to realize the predicted implications; the SI can be said then to have died.  The SI’s discursive output between 1968 and 1972 may be treated either as a lifeless aftermath to an anti-climax or a bunch of bitter intellectuals serving as mourners at their own protracted funeral.  In literary theory, while “Lettrism” has a defined historical meaning, the use of “letterism” is vague and not a recognized term although it has informally been used (often with some degree of irony) of practices emphasizing the use of letters or alphabetic symbols in art or literature and given the prevalence of text of a symbolic analogue in art since the early twentieth century, it seem surprising “letterism” isn’t more used in criticism.  That is of course an Anglo-centric view of things because the French Lettrists themselves are said to prefer the spelling “Letterism”.

Jacques Derrida smoking pipe.

The French literary movement Lettrism was founded in Paris in 1946 and the two most influential figures in the early years were the Romanian-born French poet, film maker and political theorist Isidore Isou (1925–2007) and his long-term henchman, the French poet, & writer Maurice Lemaître (1926-2018).  Western Europe was awash with avant-garde movements in the early post-war years but what distinguished Lettrism was its focus on breaking down (deconstruction was not yet a term used in this sense) traditional language and meaning by emphasizing the materiality of letters and sounds rather than conventionally-assembled words.  Scholars of linguistics and the typographic community had of course long made a study of letters, their form, variation and origin, but in Lettrism it was less about the letters as objects than the act of dismantling the structures of language letters created, the goal being the identification (debatably the creation) of new forms of meaning through pure sound, visual abstraction and the aesthetic form of letters.  Although influenced most by Dada and surrealism, the effect the techniques of political propaganda used during the 1930s & 1940s was noted by the Lettrists and their core tenent was an understanding of the letter itself as the fundamental building block of art and literature.  Often they would break down language into letters or phonetic sounds, assessing and deploying them for their aesthetic or auditory qualities rather than their conventional meaning(s).  In that sense the Lettrists can be seen as something as precursor of post-modernism’s later “everything is text” orthodoxy although that too has an interesting origin.  The French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) made famous the phrase “Il n'y a pas de hors-texte” which often is translated as something like “there is no meaning beyond the text” but “hors-texte” (outside the text) was printers’ jargon for those parts of a book without regular page numbers (blank pages, copyright page, table of contents et al) and Derrida’s point actually was the hors-texte must be regardes as a part of the text.  There was much intellectual opportunism in post modernism and for their own purposes it suited may to assert what Derrida said was “There is nothing outside the text” and what he meant was “everything is part of a (fictional) text and nothing is real” whereas his point was it’s not possible to create a rule rigidly which delineates what is “the text” and what is “an appendage to the text”.  Troublingly for some post modernists, Derrida did proceed on a case-by-case basis although he seems not to have explained how the meaning of the text in an edition of a book with an appended "This page is intentionally left blank" page might differ from one with no such page.  It may be some earnest student of post-modernism has written an essay convincingly exactly that.

The Lettrism project was very much a rejection of traditional language structures and the meanings they denoted; it was a didactic endeavor, the Lettrists claiming not only had they transcended conventional grammar & syntax but they could obviate even a need for meaning in words, their work a deliberate challenge to their audiences to rethink how language functions.  As might be imagined, their output was “experimental” and in addition to some takes on the ancient form of “pattern poetry” included what they styled “concrete poetry” & “phonetic poetry”, visual art and performance pieces which relied on abstraction, the most enduring of which was the “hypergraphic”, an object sometimes describe as “picture writing” which combined letters, symbols, and images, blending visual and textual elements into a single art form, often as collages or as graphic-like presentations on canvas or paper.  This wasn’t a wholly new concept but the lettrists vested it with new layers of meaning which, at least briefly, intrigued many although it was dismissed also as “visual gimmickry” or that worst of insults in the avant-garde: “derivative”.  Despite being one of the many footnotes in the history of modern art, Lettrism never went away and in a range of artistic fields, even today there are those who style themselves “lettrists” and the visual clues of the movement’s influence are all around us.

Chrysler’s letterism: The Chrysler 300 “letter series” 1955-1965.

The “letter series” Chrysler 300s were produced in limited numbers in the US between 1955-1965; technically, they were the high-performance version of the luxury Chrysler New Yorker and the first in 1955 was labeled C-300, an allusion to the 300 hp (220 kW) 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi V8, then the most powerful engine offered in a production car.  The C-300 was well received and when an updated version was released in 1956, it was dubbed 300B, the annual releases appending the next letter in the alphabet as a suffix although in 1963 “I” was skipped when the 300H was replaced by the 300J, the rationale being it might be confused with a “1” (ie the numeral “one”), the same reasoning explaining why there are so few “I cup” bras, some manufacturers filling the gap in the market between “H cup” & “J cup” with a “HH cup” but there’s no evidence the corporation’s concerns ever prompted them to ponder a “300HH”.  Retrospectively thus, the 1955 C-300 is often described as the 300A although this was never an official factory designation.  While in the narrow technical sense not a part of the “muscle car” lineage (defined by the notion of putting a “big” car’s “big” engine into a smaller, lighter model), the letter series cars were an important part of the “power race” of the 1950s and an evolutionary step in what would emerge in 1964 as the muscle car branch and the most plausible LCA (last common ancestor) of both was the Buick Century (1936-1942).  The letter series was retired after 1965 because the market preference for high-performance car had shifted to the smaller, lighter, pony cars & intermediates (neither of which existed in the early years of the 300) though the “non letter series” 300s (introduced in 1962) continued until 1971 with an toned-down emphasis on speed and a shift to style.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (300A).

The 1955 C-300 typified Detroit’s “mix & match” approach to the parts bin in that it conjured something “new” at relatively low cost, combining the corporation’s most powerful Hemi V8 with the New Yorker Series (C-68) platform, the visual differentiation achieved by using the front bodywork (the “front clip” in industry jargon) from the top-of-the-range Imperial.  The justification for the existence of the thing was to fulfill the homologation requirements of NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) that a certain number of various components be sold to the public before a car could be defined as a “production” car (ie a “stock” car, a term which shamelessly would be prostituted in the years to come) and used in sanctioned competition.  Accordingly, the C-300 was configured with the 331 cubic inch Hemi V8 fitted, with dual four barrel carburetors, solid valve lifters and a high-lift camshaft profiled for greater top-end power.  Better to handle the increased power, stiffer front and rear suspension was used and it was very much in the tradition of the big, powerful grand-touring cars of the 1930s such as the Duesenberg SJ, something that with little modification could be competitive on the track.  Very successful in NASCAR racing, the C-300 also set a number of speed records in timed trials but it was very much a niche product; despite the price not being excessive for what one got, only 1,725 were made.

1956 Chrysler 300B (left) and Highway Hi-Fi phonograph player (right).

The 300B used a updated version of the C-300s body so visually the two were similar although, ominously, the tailfins did grow a little.  The big news however lay under the hood (bonnet) with the Hemi V8 enlarged to 354 cubic inches (5.8 litres) and available either with 340 horsepower (254 kW) or in a high- compression version generating 355 (365), the first time a US-built automobile was advertised as producing greater than one horsepower per cubic inch of displacement.  It was a sign of the times; other manufacturers took note.  The added power meant a top speed of around 140 mph (225 km/h) could be attained, something now to ponder given the retardative qualities of the braking system but also of note was the season's much talked-about option: the "Highway Hi-Fi" phonograph player which allowed vinyl LP records to be played when the car was on the move; the sound quality was remarkably good but on less than smooth surfaces, experiences were mixed.  Success on the track continued, the 300B wining the Daytona Flying Mile with a new record of 139.373 MPH, and it again dominated NASCAR, repeating the C-300’s Grand National Championship.  Despite that illustrious record, only 1,102 were sold.

1957 Chrysler 300C.

The 1955-1956 Chryslers had a balance and elegance of line which could have remained a template for the industry but there were other possibilities and these Detroit choose to pursue, creating a memorable era of extravagance but one which proved a stylistic cul-de-sac.  The 1957 300C undeniably was dramatic and featured many of the motifs so associated with the US automobile of the late 1950s including the now (mostly) lawful quad-headlights, the panoramic “Vista-Dome” windshield, the lashings of chrome and, of course, those tailfins.  The Hemi V8 was again enlarged, now in a “tall deck” version out to 395 cubic inches (6.4 litres) rated at 375 horsepower (280 kW) and for the first time a convertible version of the 300 was available.  By now the power race was being run in earnest with General Motors (GM) offering fuel-injected engines and Mercury solving the problem in the traditional American (there’s no replacement for displacement) way by releasing a 430 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 although it was so big and heavy it made the bulky Hemi seem something of a lightweight; the 430 did however briefly find a niche in in power-boat racing.  For 300C owners who wanted more there was also a high-compression version with more radical valve timing rated at 390 horse power (290 kW) and this was for the first time able to be ordered with a three-speed manual transmission.  Few apparently felt the need for more and of the 2,402 300Cs sold (1,918 coupes & 484 convertibles), only 18 were ordered in high-compression form.

1958 Chrysler 300D.

Again using the Hemi 392, now tuned for a standard 380 horsepower (280 kW), there was for the first time the novelty of the optional Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection, which raised output to a nominal 390 horsepower (290 kW) although its real benefit was the consistency of fuel delivery, overcoming the starvation encountered sometimes under extreme lateral load.  Unfortunately, the analogue electronics of the era proved unequal to the task and the unreliability was both chronic and insoluble, thus almost all the 21 fuel-injected cars were retro-fitted with the stock dual-quad induction system and it’s believed only one 300D retains its original Bendix plumbing.  Also rare was the take-up rate for the manual transmission option and interestingly, both the two known 300Ds so equipped were ordered originally with carburetors rather than fuel injection.  The engineers also secured one victory over the stylists.  After testing on the proving grounds determined the distinctive, forward jutting “eyebrow” header atop the windscreen reduced top speed by 5 mph (8 km/h), they managed to convince management to authorize an expensive change to the tooling, standardizing the convertible’s compound-curved type “bubble windshield”, a then rare triumph of function over fashion.  Although the emphasis of the letter series cars was shifting from the track to the roads, the things genuinely still were fast and one (slightly modified) 300D was set a new class record of 156.387 mph (251.681 km/h) on the Bonneville Salt Flats.  Production declined to 810 units (619 coupes & 191 convertibles).

1959 Chrysler 300E.

With the coming of the 1959 range, the Hemi was retired and replaced by a new 413 cubic inch (6.8 litre) V8 with wedge-shaped combustion chambers.  Lighter by some 100 lb (45 kg) and cheaper to produce than the Hemi with its demanding machining requirements and intricate valve train, the additional displacement allowed power output to be maintained at 380 horsepower (280 kW) while torque (something more significant for what most drivers on the street do most of the time actually increased).  The manual transmission option was also deleted with no market resistance and despite the lower production costs, the price tag rose, something probably more of a factor in the declining sales than the loss of the much vaunted Hemi and, like the 300D (and most of the rest of the industry) the year before, the economy was suffering in the relatively brief but sharp recession and Chrysler probably did well to shift 390 units (550 coupes & 140 convertibles).

1960 Chrysler 300F (left) and 300F engine with Sonoramic intake in red (right).

Although the rococo styling cues remained, underneath now lay radical modernity, the corporation’s entire range (except for exclusive Imperial line) switching from ladder frame to unitary construction.  The stylists however indulged themselves with more external flourishes, allowing the tailfins an outward canter, culminating sharply in a point and housing boomerang-shaped taillights.  Even the critics of such things found it a pleasing look although they were less impressed by the faux spare tire cover (complete with an emulated wheel cover!) on the trunk (boot), dubbing it the “toilet seat”.  The interior though was memorable with four individual bucket in leather with a center console between extending the cockpit’s entire length and there was also Chrysler’s intriguing electroluminescent instrument display which, rather than being lit with bulbs, exploited a phenomenon in which a material emits light in response to an electric field; the ethereal glow was much admired.  Buyers in 1959 may have felt regret in not seeing a Hemi in the engine bay, but after lifting the hood (bonnet) of a 300F they wouldn’t have been disappointed because, in designer colors (gold, silver, blue & red) sat the charismatic “Sonoramic” intake manifold, a “cross-ram” system which placed the carburetors at the sides of engine, connected by long tubular runners.  What the physics of this did was provide a short duration “supercharging” effect, tuned for the mid-range torque most used when overtaking at freeway speeds.  Also built were a handful of “short ram” Sonoramics which had the tubes (actually with the same length) re-tuned to deliver top-end power rather than mid-range torque.  Rated at a nominal 400 (300 kW) horsepower, these could be fitted also with the French-built Pont-a-Mousson 4-speed manual transmission used in the Chrysler V8-powered Facel Vega and existed only for the purpose of setting records, six 300Fs so equipped showing up at the 1960 Dayton Speed Week where they took the top six places in the event’s signature Flying Mile, crossing the traps at between 141.5-144.9 mph (227.7-233.3 km/h).  The market responded and sales rose to 1217 (969 & 248 convertibles) and the 300F (especially those with the “short ram” Sonoramics) is the most collectable of the letter series.

1961 Chrysler 300G.

The 300G gained canted headlights, another of those styling fads of the 1950s & 1960s which quickly became passé but now seem a charming period piece.  There was the usual myriad of detail changes the industry in those days dreamed up each season, usually for no better reason that to be “different” from last year’s model and thus be able to offer something “new”.  As well as the slanted headlights, the fins became sharper still and taillights were moved.  Mechanically, the specification substantially was unaltered, the Sonoramic plumbing carried over although the expensive, imported Pont-a-Mousson transmission was removed from the option list, replaced by Chrysler’s own heavy-duty 3-speed manual unit, the demand for which was predictably low.  The lack of a fourth cog didn’t impede the 300G’s performance in that year’s Daytona Flying Mile where one would again take the title with a mark of 143 mph (230.1 km/h) and to prove the point a stock standard model won the one mile acceleration title.  People must have liked the headlights because production reached 1617 units (1,280 coupes & 337 convertibles).

1962 Chrysler 300H.

Perhaps a season or two too late, Chrysler “de-finned” its whole range, prompting their designer (Virgil Exner (1909–1973)) to lament his creations now resembled “plucked chickens”.  For 1962 the 300 name also lost some of its exclusivity with the addition to the range of the 300 Sport series (offered also with four-door bodywork) and to muddy the waters further, much of what was fitted to the 300H could be ordered as an option on the basic 300 so externally, but for the distinctive badge, there was visually little to separate the two.  Mechanically, the “de-contenting” which the accountants had begun to impose as the industry chase higher profits (short-term strategies to increase “shareholder value” are nothing new) was felt as the Sonoramic induction system moved to the 300H’s option list with the inline dual 4-barrel carburetor setup last seen on the 300E now standard.  However, because of weight savings gained by the adoption of a shorter wheelbase platform, the specific performance numbers of 300H actually slightly shaded its predecessor but the cannibalizing of the 300 name and the public perception the thing’s place in the hierarchy was no longer so exalted saw sales decline 570 (435 coupes & 135 convertibles), the worst year to date.  The magic of the 300 name however seemed to work because Chrysler in the four available body styles (2 door convertible, 2 & 4 door hardtop & 4 door sedan) sold 25,578 of the 300 Sport series, exceeding expectations.  Since 1962, the verbal shorthand to distinguished between the ranges has been “letter series” and “non letter series” cars.

1963 Chrysler 300J.

Presumably in an attempt to atone for past sins, a spirit of rectilinearism washed through Chrysler’s design office while the 1963 range was being prepared and it would persist until the decade’s end when new sins would be committed.  Unrelated to that was the decision to skip a 300I because of concerns it might be read as the wholly numeric 3001.  The de-contenting (now an industry trend) continued with the swivel feature for the front bucket seats deleted while full-length centre console was truncated at the front compartment with the rear seat now a less eye-catching bench.  The 413 V8 was offered in a single configuration but the Sonoramics were again standard and the manual transmission remained optional, seven buyers actually ticking the box. The 300J was still a fast car, capable of a verified 142 mph (229 km/h) although the weight and gearing conspired against acceleration but a standing quarter mile (400 m) ET (elapsed time) of 15.8 was among the quickest of the cars in its class.  Still, it did seem the end of the series might be nigh with the convertible no longer offered and the sales performance reflected the feeling, only 400 coupes leaving the showrooms.

The BUFF: The new version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (replacing the B-52H) will be the B-52J, not B-52I or B-52HH.   

The US Air Force also opted to skip “I” when allocating a designation for the updated version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (1952-1962 and still in service).  Between the first test flight of the B-52A in 1954 and the B-52H entering service in 1962, the designations B-52B, B-52C, B-52D, B-52E, B-52F & B-52G sequentially had been used but after flirting with whether to use B52J as an interim designation (reflecting the installation of enhanced electronic warfare systems) before finalizing the series as the B-52K after new engines were fitted, in 2024 the USAF announced the new line would be the B-52J and only a temporary internal code would distinguish those not yet re-powered.  Again, the “I” was not used so nobody would think there was a B521.  Although the avionics, digital displays and ability to carry Hypersonic Attack Cruise Missile (HACM, a scramjet-powered weapon capable exceeding Mach 5) are the most significant changes for the B-52J, visually, it will be the replacement of the old Pratt & Whitney TF33 engines with new Rolls-Royce F130 units which will be most obvious, the F130 promising improvements in fuel efficiency of some 30% as well as reduction in noise and exhaust emissions.  Already in service for 70 years, apparently no retirement date for the B-52 has yet been pencilled-in.  In USAF (US Air Force) slang, the B-52 is the BUFF (the acronym for big ugly fat fellow or big ugly fat fucker depending on who is asking).  From BUFF was derived the companion acronym for the LTV A-7 Corsair II (1965-1984, the last in active service retired in 2014) which was SLUFF (Short Little Ugly Fat Fellow or Short Little Ugly Fat Fucker).

1964 Chrysler 300K.

Selling in 1963 only 400 examples of what was intended as one of the corporations “halo” cars triggered management to engage in what the Americans had come to call an “agonizing reappraisal”.  The conclusion drawn was the easiest way to stimulate demand was to lower the basic entry price to ownership of the name and if buyers really wanted the fancy stuff once fitted as standard, they could order it from an option list; it was essentially the same approach as used for most of Chrysler’s other ranges.  Accordingly, the leather trim and many of the power accessories joined air-conditioning on the option list.  The base engine was now running a single four barrel carburetor although for and additional US$375, the Sonoramic could be ordered and combined with Chrysler’s new, robust four-speed manual transmission.  Surprising some observers, the convertible coachwork made a return to the catalogue.  All that meant the 300K could be advertised for US$1000 less than the 300J and the market responded in a text book example of price elasticity of demand, production spiking to 3647 (3,022 coupes & 625 convertibles).

1965 Chrysler 300L (four speed manual).

Despite the stellar sales of the 300K, even before the release of the 300L, the decision had been taken it would be the last of the letter series.  The tastes of those who wanted high performance had shifted to the smaller, lighter pony cars and intermediates which hadn’t even been envisaged when the C-300 had made its debut a decade earlier.  Additionally, the letter series had outlived their usefulness as image-makers for the corporation now they were no longer the fastest machines in the fleet and production-line rationalization meant it was easier and more profitable to maintain a single 300 line and allow buyers to choose their own combination of options; in other words, after 1965, it would still be possible to create a letter series 300 in most aspects except the badge and the now departed Sonoramics of fond memory.  When the last 300L was produced it was configured with a single four barrel carburetor and had it not been for the badges, few would have noticed the difference between it and any other 300 with the same body.  The lower price though continued to attract buyers and in its final year 2845 were sold (2,405 coupes & 440 convertibles).