Swansong

Swansong (pronounced swon-sawng)

(1) The last act or manifestation of someone or something; farewell appearance.

(2) According to legend, the first and last song a dying swan was said to sing.

1831: A compound word, swan + song and a calque from the original German Schwanenlied (that construct being Schwan + Lied).  Swan dated from before 900 and was from the Middle English & Old English swan, from the Proto-Germanic swanaz (swan, literally “the singing bird”), from the primitive Indo-European swonhz- & swenhz- (to sing, make sound”).  It was cognate with the West Frisian swan, the Low German Swaan, the Dutch zwaan, the German Schwan, the Norwegian svane and the Swedish svan.  It was related also to the Old English ġeswin (melody, song) & swinsian (to make melody), the Latin sonus (sound), the Old Norse svanr, the Middle Low German swōn and the Russian звон (zvon) (ringing) & звук (zvuk) (sound).  Song was from the Middle English & Old English song & sang (noise, song, singing, chanting; poetry; a poem to be sung or recited, psalm, lay), from the Proto-Germanic sangwaz (singing, song), from the primitive Indo-European songwh-o- (singing, song) from sengwh- (to sing). It was cognate with the Scots sang & song (singing, song), the Saterland Frisian Song, the West Frisian sang, the Dutch zang, the Low German sang, the German Sang (singing, song), the Swedish sång (song), the Norwegian Bokmål sang, the Norwegian Nynorsk (song), the Icelandic söngur and the Ancient Greek ὀμφή (omphḗ) (voice, oracle).  It was related to the Gothic saggws and the Old High German sang.  Swansong (used also a swan song & swan-song) is a noun; the noun plural is swansongs.

The English swansong (which has always existed also as swan song and swan-song) was a calque of the German Schwanenlied (Schwan (swan) + Lied (song)) (also as Schwanengesang), the term alluding to the old belief that swans normally are mute but burst into beautiful song moments before they die.  Although the idea is much older, swansong appeared first in English translation in 1831 but did not pass into common use until after 1890 which is perhaps surprising giver Chaucer mentions the singing of swans as early as the late fourteenth century.  To date, Lindsay Lohan's last single release was Back to Me (2020), released on the Casablanca label.  She has hinted it may be included on a yet to be released third album but this far, musically, it's her swansong.

The romantic roadster's swansong

Ferrari's Dino 246 F1 on the Monza banking, Italian Grand Prix, September 1960.

The swansong for the front-engined open wheel racing cars which had since the early twentieth century dominated top-flight motorsport came in the 1960s.  In 1959, both the driver’s and constructor’s championships were claimed using rear-engined machines and as the new decade began, it was obvious to all in the once unpredictable behaviour of the layout had been mastered (at least on race tracks in the hands of expert drivers) and the opening eight rounds of the season did nothing to change that view, rear-engined cars winning the lot.  Ferrari, still running the front-engined Dino 246 F1, were not happy and that meant most of Italy was similarly grumpy, something which induced the organizers of the Italian Grand Prix to stage their event under conditions designed to suit the Scuderia’s last remaining advantage: straight-line speed.  Accordingly, it was announced the event would be held using the combined road and oval course at the Monza Autodrome, making what was already the championship’s highest speed circuit faster still.  With both the driver's & constructor's titles already decided, other leading teams opted to boycott the event, attracted by neither the prospect of their delicate machines being subjected to the notorious roughness of the concrete banking nor the prospect of a high-speed accident following mechanical damage.  As planned, Scuderia Ferrari enjoyed a 1-2-3 result, delighting the Italian crowd.  It was the last World Championship grand prix won by a front-engined car.

The rebodied 246 F1, Lady Wigram Trophy weekend, RNZAF (Royal New Zealand Air Force) Wigram Air Base, Christchurch, New Zealand, 1964.

The winning Dino 246 F1 therefore became a machine of some historical significance but even though Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) may have suspected the success would not again be repeated, he was not sentimental about yesterday’s car, happy usually to sell anything obsolete to gain funds so he might build something with which to win tomorrow.  The Monza winner was thus sold to a private racer in New Zealand who, with a similar pragmatism, removed the 2.5 litre V6 in favour of the greater power and torque offered by a 3 litre V12 Testa Rossa engine in sports car trim.  In that form, he campaigned the hybrid Ferrari for two quite successful years but found no buyers when he tried to sell it, most agreeing with Il Commendatore that, big engine and all, it was just another, uncompetitive relic with the engine in the wrong place.  Thinking laterally, the owner took a very modern approach, having a coachbuilder fabricate in sixteen gauge aluminium a body strikingly similar to the factory’s own 250 GTOs, creating a very fast road car and one of the few on the road with the underpinnings of the machine which won an Italian Grand Prix.  The rules were rather more relaxed in those days.  In that form it was run until 1967 when it was sold, along with its original body, to an English collector who restored it to it with its V6 engine to the configuration in which it ran at Monza in 1960.  It’s still seen as an entry in historic events on the European calendar.

Ran just before crashed, nicely patinaed, one headlamp believed matching numbers and many parts still original: 1954 Ferrari 500 Mondial, as sold (left & centre) and in period (right).

To Enzo Ferrari for whom old race cars were usually just assets to be sold, it would in 1960 have amused him had anyone suggested decades later, people would pay millions of dollars for old, battered Ferraris, some of which never came close to winning anything.  Improbable as it would have sounded, he might have conceded such things could one day happen if the vehicles had four wheels and were drivable but the state of the 1954 Ferrari 500 Mondial which in August 2023 sold at auction for US$1.875 million would have been beyond comprehension.  The second Mondial built and one of 13 examples with Pininfarina spider coachwork, it was one of the rare “customer” race cars which used two litre, four cylinder engines and was campaigned extensively in Italy and the US where, sometime between 1963-1965 (the stories vary) it crashed and was incinerated, apparently while fitted with a Chevrolet V8, the swap a common practice at the time.

Some assembly required.

The provenance is solid if not illustrious.  It was raced by a one-time Scuderia Ferrari team driver and its many appearances included starts in the Mille Miglia, Targa Florio, and Imola Grand Prix.  Although the original engine was long gone, the sale included a comparable 3.0-liter Tipo 119 Lampredi four while the transmission was original and thus the prized “matching numbers”.  Belying the (usually undeserved reputation) Italian corporations have for chaotic record keeping, the supplied documentation was an impressive wad, including the precious factory build sheets and homologation papers.  In the hands of experts, such a thing can be restored although without the original engine, it hard to predict if it will realise the same value as the US$4.15 million a fully-restored Mondial (Chassis number 0448 MD and all “matching numbers”) achieved in 2019.

The Offenhauser-powered Watson Special, winner of the 1964 Indianapolis 500.

In the US, the swansong of the front-engined roadsters at the Indianapolis 500 came a little later, the last victory coming in 1964.  As in so many things however, the end came quickly and the next year a solitary roadster completed the full race distance, finishing a creditable fifth.  The last roadster to appear in the event in 1968 qualified on the second to last row of the grid and completed only nine laps of the 200, retiring with a collapsed piston.  That run was at the time little noted but it’s now remembered as the swansong of the front-engined roadsters in top flight racing. 

Richard Strauss, Vier Letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs)

Richard Strauss (1864-1949), was the last great German composer in the Romantic tradition and Vier Letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs) was his swansong, the last set of work he wrote.  Inspired by the poetry of Nobel Laureate Hermann Hesse (1877-1962) and Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff (1788-1857), all four are pieces of exquisite beauty but Strauss didn’t live to hear them performed, the premiere delivered posthumously in London in 1950, sung by Kirsten Flagstad (1895–1962), accompanied by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Wilhelm Furtwängler (1886–1954).

Many notable sopranos have sung the songs but the definitive performance remains the 1965 recording by Elisabeth Schwarzkopf (1915-2006) with the Radio-Symphonieorchester Berlin under György Széll (1897–1970).  (CD: EMI Classics Cat: 0724356696020[9]).

Four Last Songs Since their collaboration, the need again to record the songs vanished; it's simply not possible to improve on  Schwarzkoph's achievement in 1965.  Re-mastered versions from the original master-tapes have been released and they're of interest to audiophiles but add nothing to the atmospherics so well captured in the Berlin sessions. 

Spring (Hermann Hesse)

Wandering in darkness under your high
vaulting branches, I have dreamed so long
of your green leaves and breezy blue sky,
the vibrant fragrances–and the bird song!
 
Now, as you open your robe of winter night,
your brilliance staggers every sense.
The world sparkles in the light
of a Miracle, your recurring presence.
 
I feel the healing touch
of softer days, warm and tender.
My limbs tremble–happily, too much–
as I stand inside your splendor.

September (Hermann Hesse)

The garden mourns.
The flowers fill with cold rain.
Summer shivers
in the chill of its dying domain.
 
Yet summer smiles, enraptured
by the garden’s dreamy aphasia
as gold, drop by drop, falls
from the tall acacia.
 
With a final glance at the roses–
too weak to care, it longs for peace–
then, with darkness wherever it gazes,
summer slips into sleep.

When I Go to Sleep (Hermann Hesse)

Now that day has exhausted me
I give myself over, a tired child,
to the night and to my old friends, the stars–
my watchful guardians, quiet and mild.
 
Hands–let everything go.
Head–stop thinking.
I am content to follow
where my senses are sinking.
 
Into the darkness, I swim out free:
Soul, released from all your defenses,
enter the magic, sidereal circle
where the gathering of souls commences.

 At Sunset (Joseph Karl Benedikt Freiherr von Eichendorff)

We have passed through sorrow and joy,
walking hand in hand.
Now we need not seek the way:
we have settled in a peaceful land.
 
The dark comes early to our valley,
and the night mist rises.
Two dreamy larks sally
forth–our souls’ disguises.
 
We let their soaring flight delight
us, then, overcome by sleep
at close of day, we must alight
before we fly too far, or dive too deep.
 
The great peace here is wide and still
and rich with glowing sunsets:
If this is death, having had our fill
of getting lost, we find beauty, –No regrets.

Cereal & Serial

Cereal (pronounced seer-ee-uhl)

(1) Any plant of the grass family yielding an edible grain (wheat, rye, oats, rice, corn, maize, sorghum, millet et al).

(2) The grain from those plants.

(3) An edible preparation of these grains, applied especially to packaged, (often process) breakfast foods.

(4) Of or relating to grain or the plants producing it.

(5) A hamlet in Alberta, Canada.

(6) As Ceres International Women's Fraternity, a women's fraternity focused on agriculture, founded on 17 August 1984 at the International Conclave of FarmHouse fraternity.

1590s: From the sixteenth century French céréale (having to do with cereal), from the Latin cereālis (of or pertaining to the Roman goddess Ceres), from the primitive Indo-European ker-es-, from the root ḱer- (to grow”) from which Latin gained also sincerus (source of the English sincere) and crēscō (grow) (source of the English crescent).  The noun use of cereal in the modern sense of (a grass yielding edible grain and cultivated for food) emerged in 1832 and was developed from the adjective (having to do with edible grain), use of which dates from 1818, also from the French céréale (in the sense of the grains).  The familiar modern use (packaged grain-based food intended for breakfast) was a creation of US English in 1899.  If used in reference to the goddess Ceres, an initial capital should be used.  Cereal, cereology & cerealogist are nouns and ceralic is an adjective; the noun plural is cereals.

Lindsay Lohan mixing Pilk.

Cereal is often used as modifier (cereal farming, cereal production, cereal crop, non-cereal, cereal bar, pseudocereal, cereal dust etc) and a cereologist is one who works in the field of cerealogy (the investigation, or practice, of creating crop circles).  The term “cereal killer” is used of one noted for their high consumption of breakfast cereals although some might be tempted to apply it to those posting TikTok videos extolling the virtue of adding “Pilk” (a mix of Pepsi-Cola & Milk) to one’s breakfast cereal.  Pilk entered public consciousness in December 2022 when Pepsi Corporation ran a “Dirty Sodas” promotion for the concoction, featuring Lindsay Lohan.  There is some concern about the high sugar content in packaged cereals (especially those marketed towards children) but for those who want to avoid added sugar, Pepsi Corporation does sell “Pepsi Max Zero Sugar” soda and Pilk can be made using this.  Pepsi Max Zero Sugar contains carbonated water, caramel color, phosphoric acid, aspartame, acesulfame potassium, caffeine, citric acid, potassium benzoate & calcium disodium EDTA.

TikTok, adding Pilk to cereal and the decline of Western civilization.

A glass of Pilk does of course make one think of Lindsay Lohan but every mouthful of one’s breakfast cereal is something of a tribute to a goddess of Antiquity.  In 496 BC, Italy was suffering one of its periodic droughts and one particularly severe and lingering, the Roman fields dusty and parched.  As was the practice, the priests travelled to consult the Sibylline oracle, returning to the republic’s capital to report a new goddess of agriculture had to be adopted and sacrifices needed immediately to be made to her so rain would again fall on the land.  It was Ceres who was chosen and she became the goddess of agriculture and protector of the crops while the caretakers of her temple were the overseers of the grain market (they were something like the wheat futures traders in commodity exchanges like the Chicago Board of Trade (CBOT)).  It was the will of the goddess Ceres which determined whether a harvest was prolific or sparse and to ensure abundance, the Romans ensured the first cuttings of the corn were always sacrificed to her.  It’s from the Latin adjective cereālis (of or pertaining to the Roman goddess Ceres) English gained “cereal”.

For millennia humanity’s most widely cultivated and harvested crop, cereal is a grass cultivated for its edible grain, the best known of which are rice, barley, millet, maize, rye, oats, sorghum & wheat.  Almost all cereals are annual crops (ie yielding one harvest per planting) although some strains of rice can be grown as a perennial and an advantages of cereals is the differential in growth rates and temperature tolerance means harvesting schedules can be spread from mid-spring until late summer.  Except for the more recent hybrids, all cereals are variations of natural varieties and the first known domestication occurred early in the Neolithic period (circa 7000–1700 BC).  Although the trend in cultivated area and specific yield tended over centuries to display a gradual rise, it was the “green revolution” (a combination of new varieties of cereals, chemical fertilizers, pest control, mechanization and precise irrigation which began to impact agriculture at scale in the mid twentieth century) which produced the extraordinary spike in global production.  This, coupled with the development of transport & distribution infrastructure (ports and bulk carriers), made possible the increase in the world population, now expected to reach around 10 billion by mid-century before declining.

Serial (pronounced seer-ee-uhl)

(1) Anything published, broadcast etc, in short installments at regular intervals (a novel appearing in successive issues of a magazine (ie serialized); a radio or TV series etc).

(2) In library & publishing jargon, a publication in any medium issued in successive parts bearing numerical or chronological designation and intended to be continued indefinitely.

(3) A work published in installments or successive parts; pertaining to such publication; pertaining to, arranged in, or consisting of a series.

(4) Occurring in a series rather than simultaneously (used widely, serial marriage; serial murderer, serial adulterer etc).

(5) Effecting or producing a series of similar actions.

(6) In IT, of or relating to the apparent or actual performance of data-processing operations one at a time (in the order of occurrence or transmission); of or relating to the transmission or processing of each part of a whole in sequence, as each bit of a byte or each byte of a computer word.

(7) In grammar, of or relating to a grammatical aspect relating to an action that is habitual and ongoing.

(8) In formal logic and logic mathematics (of a relation) connected, transitive, and asymmetric, thereby imposing an order on all the members of the domain.

(9) In engineering & mass-production (as “serial number”), a unique (to a certain product, model etc) character string (which can be numeric or alpha-numeric) which identifies each individual item in the production run.

(10) In music, of, relating to, or composed in serial technique.

(11) In modern art, a movement of the mid-twentieth century avant-garde in which objects or constituent elements were assembled in a systematic process, in accordance with the principles of modularity.

(12) In UK police jargon, a squad of officers equipped with shields and other protective items, used for crowd and riot control.

1823: From the New Latin word seriālis, from the Classical Latin seriēs (series), the construct being serial + -al on the Latin model which was seriēs + -ālis.  It was cognate to the Italian seriale.  The Latin seriēs was from serere (to join together, bind), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European ser- (to bind, put together, to line up).  The -al suffix was from the Middle English -al, from the Latin adjectival suffix -ālis, ((the third-declension two-termination suffix (neuter -āle) used to form adjectives of relationship from nouns or numerals) or the French, Middle French and Old French –el & -al.  It was use to denote the sense "of or pertaining to", an adjectival suffix appended (most often to nouns) originally most frequently to words of Latin origin, but since used variously and also was used to form nouns, especially of verbal action.  The alternative form in English remains -ual (-all being obsolete).  The –alis suffix was from the primitive Indo-European -li-, which later dissimilated into an early version of –āris and there may be some relationship with hel- (to grow); -ālis (neuter -āle) was the third-declension two-termination suffix and was suffixed to (1) nouns or numerals creating adjectives of relationship and (2) adjectives creating adjectives with an intensified meaning.  The suffix -ālis was added (usually, but not exclusively) to a noun or numeral to form an adjective of relationship to that noun. When suffixed to an existing adjective, the effect was to intensify the adjectival meaning, and often to narrow the semantic field.  If the root word ends in -l or -lis, -āris is generally used instead although because of parallel or subsequent evolutions, both have sometimes been applied (eg līneālis & līneāris).  Serial, serializer , serialization serialism & serialist are nouns, serialing, serialize & serialed are verbs, serializable is an adjective and serially is adverb; the noun plural is serials.

The “serial killer” is a staple of the horror film genre.  Lindsay Lohan’s I Know Who Killed Me (2007) was not well received upon release but it has since picked up a cult following.

The adjective serial (arranged or disposed in a rank or row; forming part of a series; coming in regular succession) seems to have developed much in parallel with the French sérial although the influence of one on the other is uncertain.  The word came widely to be used in English by the mid nineteenth century because the popular author Charles Dickens (1812–1870) published his novels in instalments (serialized); sequentially, chapters would appear over time in periodicals and only once the series was complete would a book appear containing the whole work.  The first use of the noun “serial” to mean “story published in successive numbers of a periodical” was in 1845 and that came from the adjective; it was a clipping of “serial novel”.  By 1914 this had been extended to film distribution and the same idea would become a staple of radio and television production, the most profitable for of which was apparently the “mini-series”, a term first used in 1971 although the concept had been in use for some time.  Serial number (indicating position in a series) was first recorded in 1866, originally of papers, packages and such and it was extended to soldiers in 1918.  Surprisingly perhaps, given the long history of the practice, the term, “serial killer” wasn’t used until 1981 although the notion of “serial events” had been used of seemingly sequential or related murders as early as the 1960s.  On that model, serial became a popular modifier (serial rapist, serial adulterer, serial bride, serial monogamist, serial pest, serial polygamy etc)

For those learning English, the existence of the homophones “cereal” & “serial” must be an annoying quirk of the language.  Because cereals are usually an annual crop, it’s reasonable if some assume the two words are related because wheat, barley and such are handled in a “serial” way, planting and harvesting recurrent annual events.  Doubtless students are told this is not the case but there is a (vague) etymological connection in that the Latin serere meant “to join together, to bind” and it was used also to mean “to sow” so there is a connection in agriculture: sowing seeds in fields.  For serial, the connection is structural (linking elements in a sequence, something demonstrated literally in the use in IT and in a more conceptual way in “serial art”) but despite the differences, both words in a way involve the fundamental act of creating order or connection.

Serial art by Swiss painter Richard Paul Lohse (1902–1988): Konkretion I (Concretion I, 1945-1946), oil on pavatex (a wood fibre board made from compressed industrial waste) (left), Zwei gleiche Themen (Two same topics, 1947), colored pencil on paper (centre) and  Konkretion III (1947), oil on pavatex.

In modern art, “serial art” was a movement of the mid-twentieth century avant-garde in which objects or constituent elements were assembled in a systematic process in accordance with the principles of modularity.  It was a concept the legacy of which was to influence (some prefer “infect”) other artistic schools rather than develop as a distinct paradigm but serial art is still practiced and remains a relevant concept in contemporary art.  The idea was of works based on repetition, sequences or variations of a theme, often following a systematic or conceptual approach; the movement was most active during the mid-twentieth century and a notable theme in Minimalism, Donald Judd (1928-1994), Andy Warhol (1928–1987), Sol LeWitt (1928-2007) (there must have been something “serial” about 1928) and Richard Paul Lohse (1902-1988) all pioneers of the approach.  Because the techniques of the serialists were adopted by many, their style became interpolated into many strains of modern art so to now speak of it as something distinctive is difficult except in a historic context.  The embrace by artists of digital tools, algorithms, and AI (Artificial Intelligence) technologies has probably restored a new sort of “purity” to serial art because generative processes are so suited to create series of images, sculptures or digital works that explore themes like pattern, progression, or variation, the traditional themes of chaos, order and perception represented as before.  In a way, serial art was just waiting for lossless duplication and the NFT (Non-fungible token) and more conservative critics still grumble the whole idea is little different to an architect’s blueprint which documents the structural framework without the “skin” which lends the shape its form.  They claim it's the engineering without the art.

Relics of the pre-USB age; there were also 25 pin serial ports.

In IT hardware, “serial” and “parallel” refer to two different methods of transmitting data between devices or components and the distinction lies in how data bits are sent over a connection.  In serial communication, data was transmitted one bit at a time over as little as single channel or wire which in the early days of the industry was inherently slow although in modern implementations (such as USB (Universal Serial Bus) or PCIe (Peripheral Component Interconnect Express)) high speeds are possible.  Given what was needed in the early days, serial technology was attractive because the reduction in wiring reduced cost and complexity, especially over the (relatively) long distances at which serial excelled and with the use of line-drivers, the distances frequently were extended to hundreds of yards.  The trade-off was of course slower speed but these were simpler times.  In parallel communication, data is transmitted multiple bits at a time, each bit traveling simultaneously over its own dedicated channel and this meant it was much faster than serial transmission.  Because more wires were demanded, the cost and complexity increased, as did the potential for interference and corruption but most parallel transmission was over short distances (25 feet (7½ metres) was “long-distance”) and the emergence of “error correcting” protocols made the mode generally reliable.  For most, it was the default method of connecting a printer and for large file sizes the difference in performance was discernible, the machines able to transmit more data in a single clock cycle due to simultaneous bit transmission.  Except for specialized applications or those dealing with legacy hardware (and in industries like small-scale manufacturing where such dedicated machines can be physically isolated from the dangers of the internet, parallel and serial ports and cables continue to render faithful service) parallel technology is effectively obsolete and serial connections are now almost universally handled by the various flavours of USB.

Psyche

Psyche (pronounced sahyk or sahy-kee)

(1) In the mythology of Ancient Greece and Classical Rome, the personification of the soul.  The beautiful nymph was originally a mortal princess who later married Eros (Cupid, the god of love), was deified and bore him a daughter Hedone (Voluptas).

(2) In the popular imagination, the human soul, spirit, or mind.

(3) In psychology & psychoanalysis, the mental or psychological structure of a person, especially as a motive force (as opposed to the pure physicality of the body).  The psyche is the centre of thought, feeling, and motivation, consciously & unconsciously directing the body's reactions to external influences (the social and physical environment).

(4) In philosophy (in neo-Platonism), the second emanation of the One, regarded as a universal consciousness and as the animating principle of the world.

(5) A variant of the noun, verb & adjective psych (mostly in colloquial use as a clipping of psych(ology)).

(6) In cosmology, a main belt asteroid.

(7) A female given name.

(8) A small white butterfly, Leptosia nina, family Pieridae, of Asia and Australasia; a taxonomic genus within the family Psychidae (bagworm moths).  The butterfly was the symbol of the waif Psykhē, thus the frequency with which depictions of a “departed soul, spirit, ghost” were rendered as winged creatures with some resemblance to butterfly.

(9) As “psyche knot”, a technique of knotting up a woman's hair, said to be imitative of the style used in Ancient Greece but because so many of these notions were based on depictions by Medieval and Renaissance artists, the historical efficacy is dubious (known also as the Grecian knot).

(10) As “psyche mirror”, a tall (originally free-standing, framed & mounted between two posts which allowed vertically to pivot) mirror.  Psyche mirrors are still used as decorative pieces although most full-length mirrors are now wall-mounted or function also a wardrobe doors.  The name was gained from the idea that because it reflected the whole body, it symbolized introspection.  The alternative name is “cheval glass”.

1650s: The seventeenth century adoption of “psyche” as an expression of the notion of “animating spirit, the human spirit or mind” reflected the understanding of the time of what was described as “the soul, mind, spirit; life, one's life, the invisible animating principle or entity which occupies and directs the physical body; understanding, the mind (as the seat of thought), faculty of reason”; something which inhabited and controlled the body yet was something separate.  It was used also of the “ghost, spirit of a dead person” although there were differences in interpretation between the religious and secular.  What has long been a puzzle is the extent of the influence of psȳ́chein (to blow, breathe; to cool, to make dry”.  The Ancient Greek ψυχή (psukhḗ) (“soul, spirit” and literally “breath”) was a derivative of psȳ́chein (thus the uses connected with “to live”), the construct being ψῡ́χω (psū́khō) (I blow) +‎ -η (-ē) but the problem is this seems ever to have enjoyed the meaning “breath”, even in the writings of Homer.  More than one etymologist has been recorded as being “tempted” by the long documented connection with the primitive Indo-European root bhes- (to blow, to breathe) which was the source of the Sanskrit bhas- (thought probably imitative).  However, all admit the existence of a link is scant and the theory is thus a conjecture.  Psyche is a noun & verb, psyched is a verb & adjective and psyching is a verb; the noun plural is psyches.

Psych (never psyche) was used as US student slang for the academic study of “psychology” (later extended to references in various senses) by 1895.  Psychology was from the French psychologie, from the Renaissance Latin psychologia, emulating the Greek construct ψυχή (psukhḗ) + -λογία (-logía) (study of), thus in English as psych(o)- +‎ -ology.  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 et al).

Just as Eros (Cupid) was smitten, the word “psyche” seems to have seduced all whoc wrote on the subject of the soul (however understood).  There was much sense development in Platonic philosophy theological writing, especially that written under Jewish influence; in Biblical use the Greek word was used of (1) “the soul as the seat of feelings, desires, affections etc”, (2) “the soul regarded as a moral being designed for everlasting life” and (3) “the soul as an essence which differs from the body and is not dissolved by death.”  In English, the meaning “human soul” dates from the mid-seventeenth century while the modern sense in psychology of “mind” is said only to have some into use after 1910 which seems surprisingly late.  By 1914 the profession was using the verb “psych” to mean “to subject to psychoanalysis” (ie a shortened form of to “psychoanalyse” and the jargon entered general use, from 1934 used as the term “psych out” (to to outsmart) in baseball, (US) football and also in commerce.  In 1952 it was documented in the card game bridge as meaning “to make a bid meant to deceive an opponent” (bridge players thinking their game too complex for the poker player’s mere “bluff”.  By the early 1960s “psych out” had the general meaning “to unnerve” while to “psych (oneself) up” emerged a decade later, building on “psyched up” (stimulate (oneself), prepare mentally for a special effort) first appeared in newspapers in the US in 1968.

The psyche knot

The Hairdo Handbook: A Complete Guide to Hair Beauty (1964) by Dorothea Zack Hanle (1918-1999); the psyche knot was discussed in Chapter XVIII: Handling and Styling Long Hair.  It would be a different, more difficult, world without the "invisible hairpin".

Although Dorothea Zack Hanle was for some time editor of HairDo magazine, she’s remains best remembered for her food writing, her career including a long tenure as an editor at Bon Appetit, several cookbooks and being one of the founders of Les Dames d'Escoffier, an international women's organization that promotes fine dining and wine.  Ms Hanle had quite a journalistic range, he publications including The Surfer's Handbook (1968), Cooking With Flowers (1971), Cooking Wild Game (1974) and the co-authored children's cookbook, The Golden Ladle (1945).  Additionally, she published also on subjects as diverse as gardening, diet and exercise.

The psyche knot (known also as the Grecian knot) was said to be imitative of the style used in Ancient Greece but because so many of these notions were based on depictions by Medieval and Renaissance artists, the historical efficacy is dubious.  Psyche (alone or with Eros (Cupid), her sisters or others) was a popular subject and while in many paintings her hair is stacked high, it was also not unusual for her tresses to be shown flowing as the German illustrator and painter Friedrich Paul Thumann (1834-1908, Berlin) chose for Cupid and Psyche (1900, left).  In Psyche showing her Sisters her Gifts from Cupid, (circa 1753 (centre)) Jean-Honoré Fragonard, (1732–1806) even showed her “having her hair styled”, presumably with an eponymous knot.  In his Expressionist Cupid and Psyche (1907, right), Edvard Munch (1863-1944) decided she deserved a knot.  Now hung in the Munch Museum in Oslo, it’s of interest because it was painted early in the period when Munch had begun to paint human figures, something which would later make him famous, Cupid and Psyche one of 22 works in his collection called The Frieze of Life.  Ominously, the painting was loaned to Musée d'Orsay (Museum d’Orsay) in Paris where it was part of the Crime and Punishment exhibition, organized to emphasize to the population those crimes attracting a death sentence.

The technique used to tie the psyche know wasn’t new in the 1920s but it was then it became a thing.  At that time, the “bob” had become a popular style among bright young things and their many imitators, part of a trend which was both an aesthetic call and a marker of first-wave feminism, a reaction to previous fashions in which clothing had been constricting and voluminous.  Then, called the “garçonne” (a feminized version of the French garçon (boy)), it now remembered as the “flapper style”, distinguished by an angular, slender silhouette, the irony of the look (for all but the genetically lucky) that having abandoned corsets during World War I (1914-1918), most were compelled to seek the help of girdles, garments rather less comfortable than modern shapewear.  Short hairstyles (the bob or the shingle) were an essential part of the “boyish look”, albeit offset by the deliberately obvious application of rouge, eyeliner and lipstick which was famously red.  Some women however wanted “a bob each way” (as it were), liking the short-hair look but wanting to retain the flexibility to display a mane when circumstances demanded or an opportunity was presented.  The solution can be thought of as the “faux bob” and while there were a number of ways to achieve this (including the famous “side-pods”), the psyche know was the simplest to execute and, done properly, would survive an evening’s dancing without the dreaded, annoying “flyaway bits”

The psyche mirror

La Psyché (known in English as The Psyche Mirror, 1876, left), oil on canvas by the French artist Berthe Morisot (1841-1895), Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, Madrid, Spain shows a woman before a classic “psyche mirror” (known originally as a “psyche glass” (looking-glass still the preferred form among a certain subset (the one in which at cards a jack is called a knave)).  Lindsay Lohan (right) illustrates this generation’s use of the psyche mirror for full-length selfies.  Ms Lohan was with child when this selfie was snapped in New York during 2022 (note the comfortable shoes).  The original psyche mirrors were tall, free-standing, framed & mounted between two posts which allowed them vertically to pivot), the advantage being it made it possible for the subject to view herself in a greater aspect range.  The free-standing designs are still sometimes used as decorative pieces but most full-length mirrors are now wall-mounted or function also a wardrobe doors.  The name was gained from the idea that because it reflected the whole body, it symbolized introspection.  The alternative name is “cheval glass”, from the French form chevel glace (mirror).  Chevel was from the French cheval (horse, supporting frame), from the Middle French cheval, from the Old French cheval, from the Late Latin caballus (horse), from the Classical Latin caballus (pack horse) of uncertain origin.  The term thus deconstructs as glass (mirror) mounted in a supporting frame.

Cupid, Psyche and the Nectar of the Gods

In Greek mythology, Psyche was the youngest and loveliest of a king’s three daughters.  So haunting was Psyche’s beauty that people travelled from afar to pay homage, neglecting the worship of Venus (Aphrodite), the goddess of love and beauty, instead venerating the nymph.  Venus became enraged at finding her altars deserted, men instead turning their devotions to the young virgin, watching as she passed, singing her praises and strewing her way with chaplets and flowers.

Indignant at the exaltation of a mortal, Venus began her righteous rant.  "Am I then to be eclipsed in my honors by a mere mortal girl?  In vain then did that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by Jove himself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, Pallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty."  Venus summoned her winged son, the mischievous Cupid and telling him of Psyche, ordered her revenge.  "My dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give your mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation and triumph."

Obediently, Cupid set to his task.  In the garden of Venus lay two fountains, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter.  Cupid filled two amber phials, one from each fountain and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, finding her asleep.  He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips and although though the sight of her moved him almost to pity, touched her side with the point of his arrow.  At the touch she awoke and her eyes gazed upon the invisible Cupid which so enchanted him he became confused and pricked himself with his own arrow.  Helplessly in love, his only thought now was to repair the mischief he had done and he poured the balmy drops of joy over all her silken blonde ringlets.

Psyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, gained no benefit from her charms.  While all cast covetous eyes upon her and all spoke her praises, not prince, plebeian or peasant ever asked for her hand in marriage.  Her two sisters had become betrothed to princes but Psyche sat in solitude, feeling cursed by the beauty which had failed to awaken love.  The king and queen, thinking they had incurred the wrath of the gods turned for guidance to the oracle of Apollo who answered: “The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. Her future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist."

Her parents, distraught, abandoned themselves to grief but Psyche was fatalistic, saying "Why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? You should rather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a Venus. I now perceive I am victim to that name.  I submit.  Lead me to that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me."  Accordingly, amid the lamentations of all, she was taken to the peak of the mountain and there left alone.  When the tearful girl stood at the summit, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the earth and carried her on the breeze, bringing her to rest in a flowery dale where she laid down to sleep.  When she awoke, refreshed, she looked around and beheld nearby a grove of tall and stately trees.  Entering the forest, she discovered in its midst a fountain from which bubbled crystal-clear waters and nearby, a splendid palace, so magnificent she knew it the work not of mortal hands, but the retreat of some god.  Drawn by admiration and wonder, she ventured to enter the door.  Amazed at what she saw, she walked along a marble floor so polished it shimmered, golden pillars supported a vaulted roof, walls were enriched with carvings and paintings of fantastic beasts.  Everything upon which her eye fell delighted her.

Soon, although she saw no one, she heard a voice.  "Sovereign lady, all that you see is yours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your commands with utmost care.  Retire, should you please, to your chamber, recline upon your bed of down and when you see fit, repair to the bath.  Your supper awaits in the alcove”.  Psyche took her bath and seated herself in the alcove, whereupon a table appeared laden with extraordinary delicacies of food and nectarous wines.   While she ate, she heard the playing of lute and harp and the harmony of song.

That night she met he husband but he came only in the darkness, fleeing before the dawn, but his words and caresses were of love and inspired in her a like passion.  Often she would beg him to stay so she might behold him in the light but he refused, telling her never to attempt to see him, for no good would come of it and that he would rather have her love him as a man than adore him as a god.  This, Psyche accepted but the days grew long and lonely and she began to feel she was living in a gilded cage.  One night, when her husband came, she told him of her distress, her charms enough to coax from him his unwilling acquiescence that her sisters could visit.  Delighted, she summoned the obedient Zephyr who brought them to the mountain and in happiness, they embraced.

The splendor and celestial delights of Psyche’s palace astonished her sisters but also aroused their envy and they began to pepper her with questions about her husband and she told them he was a beautiful youth who spent his days hunting in the mountains.  Unconvinced, the soon drew from her that she had never seen him and they began to fill her mind with dark suspicions, recalling the Pythian oracle had declared her doomed to marry a direful and tremendous monster.  Psyche protested but they told her the folk living in the valley say the husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, amusing himself while nourishing her with dainties that he may by and by devour her.  They told to one night to take with her a lamp and sharp blade so that when he slept she might light the lamp and see his true form.  If truly he is a monster they told her, "hesitate not and cut off its head".

Psyche tried to resist her sisters’ persuasions but knew she was curious and that night she took to bed a lamp and a long, sharp knife.  When he had fallen to sleep, silently she arose and lit her lamp, beholding but the most beautiful of the gods, his golden ringlets falling over his snowy neck, two dewy wings on his shoulders whiter than snow, with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring.  Entranced, as she moved her lamp better to see his face, a drop of hot oil fell on the shoulder of the god and startled, he opened his eyes and fixed them upon her.  They both were frozen for a few seconds, then suddenly and without a word, he spread his wings and flew out of the window.  Psyche, crying in despair, in vain endeavored to follow but fell from the window to the ground below.

Hearing her fall, Cupid for a moment paused in his flight and turned to her saying, "Oh faithless Psyche, is it thus you repay my love? After I disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and would cut off my head?  Go, return to your sisters, who you trust more than me.  I punish you no more than to forever leave you for love cannot dwell with suspicion."  With those words, he flew off, leaving poor Psyche crying into the earth.  For hours she sobbed and then looked around, but her palace and gardens had vanished and she found herself in a field in the city where her sisters dwelt.  She repaired thither and told them her story at which, though pretending to grieve with her, the two evil sisters inwardly rejoiced for both thought as one: that Cupid might now choose one of them.  Both the next morning silently arose and snuck secretly to the mountain where each called upon Zephyr to bear them to his lord but leaping up, there was no Zephyr to carry them on the breeze and each fell down the precipice to their deaths.

The devastated Psyche meanwhile wandered.  Day and night, without food or rest, she searched for her husband and one evening saw in the distance a magnificent temple atop a lofty mountain and she felt her heart beat, wondering if perhaps there was Cupid.  She walked to the temple and there saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in sheaves, mingled with ears of barley.  Scattered about, lay sickles and rakes, the instruments of harvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly from the weary reapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day.  This unseemly confusion disturbed the neat and tidy Psyche and she put herself to work, separating and sorting everything and putting all in its proper place, believing she ought to neglect none of the gods, but prove by her piety to prove she was worthy of their help.  The holy Ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus spoke to her, "Oh Psyche, truly your are worthy of our pity, though I cannot shield you from the frowns of Venus, I can teach you how best to allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender yourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband you have lost."  Filled with both fear and hope, Psyche made her way to the temple of Venus.

Venus met her with anger.  "Most undutiful and faithless of servants," said she, "do you at last remember you have a mistress or have you come to see your sick husband, the one injured by the wound given him by his worthless wife?  You are so ill favored you can be worthy of your lover only by showing industry and diligence.  I shall put you to work".  She led Psyche to temple’s storehouse in which sat vast piles of wheat, barley, vetches, beans and lentils, the food for her birds.  “Separate these grains, put them all in sacks and have it done by night” she commanded, leaving her to the task.  Shocked, Psyche sat silent, moving not a finger.  While she despaired, Cupid ordered an ant, a native of the fields, to bring all ants from the anthill and they gathered on the piles.  Quickly and with the efficiency of their breed, they took grain by grain, making perfect parcels of each and when done, vanished from sight.  As twilight fell, Venus returned from a banquet of the gods and seeing the sacks neatly stacked, became enraged.  "This is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed."  So saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and stormed off.

Next morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her, "Behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water.  There you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces on their backs.  Go now, fetch me some of that precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces."  Standing on the riverbank, wondering at the difficulty of her task, Psyche was about to cross but river god made the reeds speak, telling her "Oh maiden, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among those rams for as long as the sun shines, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth.  But when the noontide sun has driven them to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees."  Psyche did as they said and returned with her arms full of the golden fleece but Venus was not pleased.  "Well I know it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded I do not believe you are of use but I have another task for you.  Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to Proserpine and say, 'my mistress Venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own'.  Be not too long on your errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear this evening at the circle of the gods."

Psyche now believed her own destruction was at hand and, with no wish to delay what was not to be avoided, dashed to the top of a high tower, preparing to cast herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the shades below.  But then, a voice from the tower said to her, "Why, poor unlucky girl, do you design to put an end to your days in so dreadful a manner? And what cowardice makes you sink under this last danger when you have been so miraculously supported in all your former?"  Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the three-headed dog, and prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river and bring her back again. But the voice also cautioned, "When Proserpine has given you the box filled with her beauty, you must never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses."

Encouraged, Psyche obeyed the advice and travelled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. Admitted to the palace of Proserpine, she delivered her message from Venus and soon, she was handed the box, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, glad once more to be in the light of day.  But as she walked along the path, a longing desire overcame her, an urge to look into the box for, as she imagined, a touch of the divine beauty would make her more desired by Cupid so, delicately, she opened the box.  But in there was nothing of beauty but only an infernal and truly Stygian sleep which, being set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell in the road where she stood, plunged into a deep sleep, lying there without sense or motion.

But Cupid was now recovered and could no longer bear the absence of his beloved Psyche and slipping through a crack in the window, he flew to where Psyche lay.  He gathered up the sleep from her and closed it again in the box, waking her with the gentlest touch of one of his arrows. "Again," said he, "have you almost perished by the same curiosity.  But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest."  Then Cupid, as swift as lightning, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication.  Jupiter was impressed and so earnestly did he plead the cause of the lovers that he won the consent of Venus and on hearing this, sent Mercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, he handed her a goblet ambrosia saying, "Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual."  Thus Psyche became at last united to Cupid, and in time, born to them was a daughter whose name was Pleasure.

Wedding Banquet of Cupid and Psyche (circa 1517) by Raphael (1483–1520).

The story of Cupid and the OCD Psyche is told by the Roman writer Apuleius (circa 124-circa 170) in three chapters in his rather risqué picaresque novel, The Metamorphoses of Apuleius (which Saint Augustine dubbed Asinus aureus (The Golden Ass (by which it’s today known)).  The Golden Ass is notable as the only full-length work of fiction in Classical Latin to have survived in its entirety and is a work with aspects which would be regarded as novel centuries later, including fantastical imagery, passages like fairy tales and elements which would now be called magic realism.  Like many modern fairy tales, there is a moral to the story and for Apuleius it was that it is love which makes to soul immortal and there was no need for subtlety, Cupid the son of the goddess of desire and Psyche's name originally meant soul.

With the re-discovery (and some re-invention) of much of antiquity during the Renaissance, the story gained much popularity and attracted the interest of artists and from Raphael’s (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, 1483–1520) studio came the best known evocation.  One of the scenes is the wedding feast, painted in the form of a hanging tapestry.  Psyche’s guest list was a roll-call of the gods, Ganymede, Apollo, Bacchus and Jupiter are all at the table, the Graces and the Hours in attendance.  The artists (for some the work was executed by professional painters under Raphael’s guidance) do have some fun, very much in the spirit of Apuleius for above the flying Mercury sits, artfully arranged, a suggestive conjunction of certain vegetables and fruits.

The Wedding Feast of Cupid and Psyche (1532) by Giulio Romano.

The romance of Cupid and Psyche drew other artists including the Italian Giulio Romano (Giulio Pippi, circa 1499-1546), a student of Raphael whose influence permeates.  While not highly regarded by critics and better remembered as an architect, Romano is of note because he was among the earliest of the artists whose work can be called Mannerist and certainly his wedding feast painting includes the mythological, a staged and theatrical setting, eroticism and an unusual sense of perspective; all characteristic of Mannerist art although he remained entirely naturalistic in the callipygian rendering of Psyche’s buttocks.

In Shakespeare's late drama The Winter's Tale there’s an allusion to Romano as “that rare Italian master” but despite the bard’s apparent admiration, historians of art treat him as little more than a footnote; the shadow Raphael cast was long.  Some critics seem determined to devalue his work, the Catholic Encyclopaedia (1913) noting it was “prolific and workmanlike, always competent…” but with “…no originality; as a painter, he is merely a temperament, a prodigious worker. His manual dexterity is unaccompanied by any greatness of conception or high moral principle.  His lively but superficial fancy, incapable of deep emotion, of religious feeling, or even of observation, attracted him to neutral subjects, to mythological paintings, and imaginary scenes from the world of fable. Therein under the cloak of humanism, he gave expression to a sensualism rather libertine than poetical, an epicureanism unredeemed by any elevated or noble quality.  It is this which wins for Giulio his distinctive place in art.  His conception of form was never quite original; it was always a clever and bookish compromise between Raphael and Michelangelo.  His sense of color grows ever louder and uglier, his ideas are void of finesse, whatever brilliancy they show is second-hand. His single distinctive characteristic is the doubtful ease with which he played with the commonplaces of pagandom.  In this respect at least, paintings like those of the Hall of Psyche (1532) are historical landmarks.  It is the first time that an appeal is made to the senses with all the brutal frankness of a modern work”. 

Damning with faint praise perhaps.  Grudgingly, the editors did concede that despite being “…distinguished by such characteristics and marked by such defects, Romano occupies nevertheless an important place in the history of art. More than any other, he aided in propagating the pseudo-classical, half-pagan style of art so fashionable during the seventeenth century. It’s mainly through his influence that after the year 1600 we find so few religious painters in Europe”.

One could hardly expect The Catholic Encyclopedia (sub-titled An International work of reference on the constitution, doctrine, discipline and history of the Catholic Church), to find much worthy in a mannerist (or perhaps anything modern).  Mannerism, novel in some ways as it was, was rarely original in form or content.  It was a reaction against the perceived perfection of the neo-classicism of the High Renaissance and artists from Romano on were drawn to Greek mythology, characters like Psyche and Echo able simply and unambiguously to represent the psychological problems muddied by Christian theology.