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Monday, August 10, 2026

Prosaic

Prosaic (pronounced proh-zey-ik)

(1) Of writing or speaking, straightforward; matter-of-fact; lacking the feeling or elegance of poetry.

(2) Something commonplace or dull; matter-of-fact or unimaginative; overly plain, simple or commonplace, to the point of being boring.

(3) Of or having the character or form of prose, the ordinary form of spoken or written language, rather than of poetry (now of technical use only).

1650-1660: From the fifteenth century Middle French prosaïque and directly from the sixteenth century Medieval Latin prōsaicus (in prose), from the Classical Latin prōsa (prose), from prorsus (straightforward, in prose), from the Old Latin provorus (straight ahead), the construct being pro- (forward) + vorsus (turned), from vertō (to turn), from the primitive Indo-European wer- (to turn, to bend).  The original meaning was technical, distinguishing text as prose rather than poetry and in this sense was usually written as prosaicus (in prose).  The first hints of literary hierarchy were first noted in French in 1746 when used to contrast the “character” of prose in contrast to the “feeling” of poetry.  The sense of describing something ordinary or mundane first seen in French in 1813, a meaning soon adopted in English.  Prosaic & prosaical are adjectives, prosify is a verb, prosified & prosifying are verbs & adjectives, prosaicness is a noun and prosaically is an adverb.

Figurative use of poetic & prosaic:  Jaguar E-Type (XK-E, 1961-1974) (left) & Jaguar XJ-S (1975-1996) (right).  "Poetry in motion" is a cliché but when the E-Type first was seen, that was the phrase some journalists chose.

Whether Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) ever called the E-Type "the most beautiful car in the world" remains uncertain (though he certainly never issued a denial) but over the decades plenty have echoed the sentiment, sometimes using the phrase "poetry in motion".  By 1975, the world had changed and there were now rules with which to comply and although the XJ-S (later XJS) wasn't really a replacement for the E-Type, because of the timing, that was the basis on may of the early reports based at least some of their critique.  Dynamically, on about any objective measure, it was a better car than the E-Type but nobody is known to have claimed it was better looking and in some contemporary reviews, the styling was described as "prosaic".  It might have been more accurate to use the word "pragmatic" and the lines perhaps aged better than many at the time anticipated, the car in (almost) continuous production for over twenty years and the platform endured until 2006, providing the underpinnings for the first generation of Jaguar's XK8 (1996-2005) and the Aston Martin DB7 (1997-2004), both of which looked better than the XJ-S although neither matched the timeless E-Type.  Upon release, there was much comment about the styling lacking the appeal of the E-Type but the XJ-S was less a replacement than an entry into a new market segment, the anyway declining sports car segment abandoned.  Regarding its capabilities, the press were fair, one publication noting it was smooth, quiet and luxurious yet "capable of speeds that would have won a grand prix not 15 years ago".  That comparison was admittedly with Formula One's voiturette (1.5 litre, naturally aspirated) era but it was an indication that even in the troubled 1970s, there had been progress.   

1983 Jaguar XJ-S Lynx Eventer shooting brake.

What many regard as the best-looking XJS version were the "shooting brakes" (a kind of station wagon) made by specialist coach-builders, the best-known of which was the Lynx Eventer, 67 of which were made.  Critics at the time noted the rear treatment rendered a better balanced shape and much the same observation was made of the convertible (1988-1996) version (less so the SC "cabriolet" (1983-1988)).  Although the pre-war shooting brakes often were built for the HFS (hunting, fishing & shooting) set who needed space for shotguns, fishing rods, hunting hounds and such, in the 1980s they emerged in the niche of the "horsey" set although there was obviously appeal for those who liked the image even if they never sat in a saddle.  In naming the Eventer, Lynx may have had in mind the sport of "eventing", an equestrian sport in which a single horse & rider compete against others across the three disciplines of dressage, cross-country, and show jumping, the roots in the drills European armies conducted to ensure officers seeking a commission in the cavalry possessed the requisite skills.  Eventing has a reasonably impressive death toll of both riders and beasts but it continues to exert a pull with women especially drawn; that's not surprising because some girls fall in love with horses at pony club and never quite recover.

1986 "Daimler S Design Study".

The shooting brake coachwork eliminated the buttresses that were the design's most distinctive feature and interestingly, they were sacrificed also when the factory in 1986 undertook a “design-study” for a proposed "luxury version", to be sold as the “Daimler S”.  The shape was judged most pleasing, unlike the “Coupé” version of the Jensen Interceptor (1966-1976), a reputed 60 of which were built in 1975-1976.  Without the dramatically expansive rear window (nicknamed "the fishbowl"), the design didn't please many and it was later revealed that, struggling to recover from the mid-1970s recession and collapse in demand for big, thirsty cars (both a consequence of the first oil shock), the company had exhausted their supply of closed body shells so "cobbled together" a top to be attached to some of remaining convertible (1974-1976) bodies awaiting completion.  That's may account for why it looked like something of a design college project that may (generously) have been graded a "C-" but, approaching bankruptcy, Jensen was in its death throes.

The original Jensen Interceptor (1966-1976, left) "saloon" and the hastily improvised Coupé (1975-1976, right).  The vinyl glued to the roof didn't help and it was a difficult time for the dying company but Jaguar's execution of the same concept (add a roof to a convertible) on the one-off Daimler S was more accomplished.  Verging on the brutish, nobody ever called the Interceptor's lines "poetic" but the appeal has endured and even today there are companies offering "refurbishment packages" including modern power-trains and electronics.

One thing the Daimler S had in common with the unfortunate Interceptor Coupé was the project being relatively cheap to execute because much of the engineering work had already been done in creating open versions (a full convertible by Jensen; the “SC” version of the XJS with a Triumph Stag-like fixture atop).  Sales of the XJ-S SC were sufficiently encouraging for a team to be formed to produce a conventional convertible, one aspect of the project a removable hard-top (always a factory option for the smaller E-Type).  Because of the sheer size (and consequently weight) of such a structure, that proved unviable but, the styling done, the idea of a “notchback coupé” was explored, the “Daimler” brand available to enable the thing to be sold at a higher price.  The prototype Daimler S required more than welding on the aborted hard-top but not much more, the main differences the different rear-side windows and fluted fittings on the grill & trunk (boot) lid trim.  The planned interior fit-out (a more lavish use of timber veneers, carpet & leather) was never fitted to the prototype and wilder thoughts in the engineering office included AWD (all-wheel drive) but none of the speculation ever even reached the drawing boards.  The one-off Daimler S did get as far as US focus groups for "market reaction" to be assessed but it had the misfortune of being displayed with a prototype XJ-S convertible and while the response to the coupé was polite, the convertible was received with an enthusiasm matched by the US dealer network, none of whom needed a focus group to tell them where demand lay.  While the lines of neither the Lynx Eventer or Daimler S would be likely to attract the epithet "poetic", both shapes improved on the original.  

Prosaic is an example of the figurative adoption of a word with a precise technical meaning assuming such popularity that the original sense became relegated to specialists.  Once, any text not poetic was “prosaic” (ie “written in prose”), and this description denoted nothing negative; it was just a way of distinguishing between written forms, reflecting prosaic’s origins in the Latin prosa (prose).  However, by the seventeen century, poetry had come to be regarded as a most superior form of expression, considered more beautiful, imaginative, and emotional, prose relegated to the status of the mundane and procedural.  The figurative use evolved from this and prosaic came to be used to refer to anything thought ordinary or unimaginative including music, ideas, architecture, Jaguars etc.  The adjective thus transformed into a synonym for "colorless, drab, lifeless, lacklustre, humdrum, dull, pedestrian, unimaginative" etc and this resulted in phrases which once would have been thought bizarre or tautological: “prosaic poetry” & “prosaic prose”.  In its original technical sense (distinguishing the style of writing used for poetry from other literature), the word is now rarely used other than by those somewhere in the "literature business" and, even there, use can be challenging because of the implications of the modern sense(s).  Still, for those who wish to emphasise certain bad texts are worse even than others, the comparative is "more prosaic" and the superlative, "most prosaic".

Dylan Thomas (1914–1953, left) and his wife Caitlin Thomas (née Macnamara; 1913-1994, right) in the bar of Brown’s Hotel, Laugharne, Wales, 1938.

As the origin in the Latin prosa or pronersa oratio (straightforward discourse) suggests, “prose” is the language in its direct, unadorned form, flowing in the way of style(s) written or spoken in everyday life.  It differs from poetry or verse in not being restricted in rhythm, measure or rhyme although, in literary theory, there exists also “poetic prose” and the “prose poem”.  Literary theory however has, in the last sixty years-odd, constructed a large and sometimes bewildering array of technical terms and categories and the possible number of distinct prose forms may be close to limitless.  Poetic prose is prose which approximates to verse in the use of rhythm (perhaps even a kind of meter) in the elaborate and ornate use of language, and especially in the use of figurative devices like onomatopoeia, assonance and metaphor.  Except in experimental form, poetic prose usually is deployed only as a literary device, appearing in short works or in brief passages in longer pieces in order to achieve a (not always entirely clear) specific effect although the common element seems to be something like “an elevation of the emotional temperature”.  Authors interpolating passages of poetic prose have included Thomas De Quincey (1785–1859, best known for his Confessions of an English Opium-Eater (1821)), Herman Melville (1819–1891), Arthur Rimbaud (1854–1891), James Joyce (1882–1941, whose use of poetic prose wasn’t always immediately accessible), Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) and William Faulkner (1897–1962).  Classic examples of the “hybrid form” are sectionsof the narrator’s narrative in the radio play Under Milk Wood (1952) by Dylan Thomas (1914–1953).

The Collected Prose of T.S. Eliot (2024), in four volumes, edited by Archie Burnett.

A prose poem is a composition printed as prose but distinguished by elements common in poetry, such as often elaborately contrived rhythms, figures of speech, rhyme, internal rhyme, assonance, consonance and startling imagery.  In academic use, it’s the tragic and only posthumously recognized French proto-symbolist Aloysius Bertrand (pen name of Louis Jacques Napoléon Bertrand, 1807-1841) who is acknowledged as having introduced prose poetry to French writing and, more that others, it was him who (retrospectively) made it a fashionable sub-genre among the avant-garde, the seminal work being Gaspard de la Nuit-Fantaisies à la manière de Rembrandt et de Callot (Gaspard of the Night-Fantasies in the Manner of Rembrandt and Callot, 1842), a collection of fantasies in the manner of the Dutch painter Rembrandt (Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn; 1606-1669) and Jacques Callot (circa 1592–1635, a printmaker in the baroque style, born in the then independent Duchy of Lorraine).  Although it was the intricacy of the ornate and rhythmical language that contributed to the recognition of the prose poem as a literary form, upon publication, it made little impact and only later became influential though for more than a century it remained neglected in English.  When French critics finally took notice, the initial spread of the work owed much to the dazzling images, a number of which were, by the standards of the age, monumentally grotesque.  The influence on the French poet, essayist, translator and art critic Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) was obvious in his Le Spleen de Paris (Paris Spleen, 1869 and better known by its subsequent title Petits Poèmes en prose (Little Poems in Prose)), a collection of 50 short prose poems and one of the building blocks of literary modernism.  The symbolist poets and surrealists also acknowledged a debt, as did T. S. Eliot (1888–1965) although his fork of modernism was so striking it seems almost unfair much to dwell on the precursors.

Lindsay Lohan, a poem by Amber Tambling, from the collection Dark Sparkler (2015).

Actress and author Amber Tamblyn (b 1983) solved the writer's dilemma about whether to handle the subject of Lindsay Lohan in prose or poetry by using no text at all.  The publisher HarperCollins described her third collection Dark Sparkler (2015) as a “…hybrid of poetry and art exploring the lives and deaths of actresses who began their careers as child stars.”  The book, which included original artwork by a number of artists, was well received, critically and commercially.  The title was well-chosen because Dark Sparkler was a catalogue of murder and suicide but what attracted much comment was the inclusion of one living soul: Lindsay Lohan, her entry (on page 47) blank but for her name as the title.  An author’s relationship ultimately is with their readers but first it’s with their critics and the response to that one proved it’s possible to deconstruct text even when it doesn’t appear.  As the postmodernists explained, even a blank page is "text" to be deconstructed to find meaning and should the conclusion be there is "no meaning", that too is "a meaning".  Whether fashionable or not, postmodernism made a contribution to literary criticism and remains available for readers to take from it what they will.  Some of the critical reaction to Ms Tambling's Lindsay Lohan was something in vein of those who approached John Cage’s (1912–1992) 4:33 (1952) in that, without much with which to work, the only obvious question seemed to be “What did you mean?”  Ms Tamblyn did say she found it “upsetting” when, after reading several of the poems dedicated to starlets who died young, she spoke the words “Lindsay Lohan” and the audience laughed; perhaps, in the age of the TikTokers she’d not now be surprised.  The poet claimed the inclusion of the piece in its unusual form was not to say “you’re next” but explicitly to avoid writing anything about a life in progress, the idea being Ms Lohan’s life was her own story to write.  Like any work of prose or poetry, page 47 was there for people to take from it what they found but presumably, the interpretative range might be wider than for those reading something like John Keats’ (1795-1821) ode To Autumn (1820).

The Tay Bridge Disaster

William Topaz McGonagall (circa 1825–1902) was a Scottish poet of Irish ancestry, now acknowledged as perhaps the worst poet ever to have been published in English, a fair achievement given the wealth of modern competition.  His best known work remains The Tay Bridge Disaster (1880), lamenting the disaster of 28 December, 1879 when, during a severe gale, the central section of Dundee's Tay Rail Bridge collapsed, sending to their deaths in the freezing water the 80-odd souls aboard the Wormit-Dundee train passing at the time.  Regarded during its brief existence as a triumph of Victorian (1837-1901) engineering, the Tay Rail Bridge was nearly two miles (3.2 km) long and then the longest in the world but it had been built with an insufficient allowance for lateral wind-load, the structure that night succumbing to the gale-force winds estimated at 80 mph (130 km/h, 70 knots).  An enquiry was conducted and the designer, Sir Thomas Bouch (1822-1880) (dubbed a Knight Bachelor at Windsor Castle on 26 June, 1879 by Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) in recognition of the quick and economic construction of the bridge) was found for primarily responsible for the disaster.  His health suffered as a consequence of the event and within a year of the collapse, he was dead.

The Tay Bridge after the collapse (National Library of Scotland image).

Whether the The Tay Bridge Disaster can be said to be prosaic is debatable because there are probably better adjectives but critics have long been united that it's a very bad piece of poetry and it's doubtful a re-rendering in prose would be much of an improvement, one writing of it that McGonagall was “deaf to poetic metaphor, employing inappropriate rhythms that resulted in unintentionally amusing poetry.”  Said to be wholly oblivious to the invective almost universally directed to his oeuvre of over two-hundred pieces of verse, his sheer awfulness and tenacity caused him to be remembered to this day for at least something while countless poets who were merely earnest and competent are long forgotten.  Whether The Tay Bridge Disaster is the "worst ever" poem is up to readers but the problem with poetry is that its appreciation is a specific skill-set and not all possess the skill.  Were the critics to have praised the piece as a work or rare genius and pronounced it a masterpiece, many of us would have taken their word for it.

The Tay Bridge Disaster by William McGonagall

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
’Twas about seven o’clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem’d to say-
“I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay.”
 
When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers’ hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say-
“I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay.”
 
But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And the passengers’ hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov’d most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.
 
So the train mov’d slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o’er the town,
Good Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill’d all the peoples hearts with sorrow,
And made them for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav’d to tell the tale
How the disaster happen’d on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.

Monday, July 27, 2026

Siren

Siren (pronounced sahy-ruhn)

(1) In classical mythology, one of several sea nymphs, sometimes depicted as part-woman, part-bird (and sometimes as sisters) who, with their seductive singing (their “siren song” or “siren call”), lured mariners to destruction on the rocky shore.

(2) A woman who sings sweetly and charms.

(3) In slang, a seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men; a seductress, temptress or vamp; a dangerous woman who preys on the weaknesses and susceptibilities (there are a few of both).

(4) An acoustical instrument for producing musical tones, consisting essentially of a disk pierced with holes arranged equidistantly in a circle, rotated over a jet or stream of compressed air, steam or the like, so that the stream is alternately interrupted and allowed to pass.

(5) An variation of this implement, making a piercingly loud sound and used as a whistle, fog signal, or warning device; the sound made by such a device.

(6) In zoology, (1) any of several aquatic, eel-like salamanders of the family Sirenidae, having permanent external gills, small forelimbs and no posterior limbs, (2) a member of Sirenia, an order of mammals or (3) any of various nymphalid butterflies of the genus Hestina.

(7) Anything seductive or tempting (especially if potentially dangerous or harmful (something said to exert “a siren call” on one’s desire).

(8) In music, a musical instrument (one of the few aerophones in the percussion section of the symphony orchestra).

(9) An instrument for demonstrating the laws of beats and combination tones.

(10) In astronomy & astrophysics, an astrophysical event able to be used for calculating cosmic distances.

(11) As “siren suit”, an overall-like one-piece garment introduced in the UK during the “Blitz” as something to be worn by those in air-raid shelters.  

1300-1350: From the Middle English siren & serein, from the Old French sereine, (the Modern French sereine dating from the twelfth century), from the Late Latin sīrēna and the Classical Latin Sīrēn & Sīrēna, from the Ancient Greek Σειρήν (Seirḗn).  The Seirēnes were the alluring sea nymphs of classical mythology and the figurative sense of “one who sings sweetly and charms” was first noted in the 1580s although the classical descriptions of them were mangled in medieval translations, resulting in some odd and fantastical notions of their appearance and it wasn’t unusual for them to be conflated with mermaids.  The Vulgate (the Biblia Vulgata, the fourth century translation of the Bible which, through the choices of words and senses made by the translator(s) had a profound effect on Christianity and Christendom) also gifted to Middle English the use of the word to describe an imaginary species of flying serpents, based on glossary explanations of the Latin sirenes in Isaiah 13:22 (“And the wild beasts of the islands shall cry in their desolate houses, and dragons in their pleasant palaces: and her time is near to come, and her days shall not be prolonged.”  (King James Version of the Bible (KJV, 1611)).  In the Greek, the word was used also to mean "a deceitful woman" although etymologists note that may have been to suggest she was “a binder, an entangler”, the sense from seira (cord, rope).  In zoology, the mammalian sense appeared first in French in Les entretiens d'Ariste et d'Eugène (Conversations between Ariste & Eugène) by the French Jesuit priest Dominique Bouhours (1628–1702) while the use to describe the aquatic salamander was introduced in 1766 by Swedish zoologist & physician Carl Linnaeus (1707–1778 and styled as Carl von Linné after 1761) for a genus of reptiles.  In organic chemistry, scientists noted the attraction exerted by the sirens of mythology and coined “sirenin” to describe a sexual attraction pheromone in some fungi of the genus Allomyces.  Less charmingly, in early twentieth century Australian urban slang, a “stem siren” was a prostitute; in the Australian way, often it was clipped to “stem”.

The use to describe the mechanical device “making a warning sound” was first recorded in 1879 when they were installed on steamboats and this may have been imitative of the similar French word.  In the course of the twentieth century, the things were adapted as audible warning devices for many purposes including air raids, emergency service vehicles and fire alarms (now mandatory in residential accommodation in many jurisdictions).  In schools, workplaces and other geographically large sites, they were used to mark the start and finish of shifts, lessons, meal breaks etc.  The Elizabethan era (1558-1603) adjectives sirenean, sirenian, sirenic, sirenical & sireny) went extinct but as late as the 1940s, the spelling variation sireen still occasionally appeared and not always as a deliberate archaism.  The writer & critic John Ruskin (1819–1900 and known for his fondness for young. beautiful creatures), used the rare sirenic so with that imprimatur, some modern aesthete might be tempted to revive the form.  Siren is a noun & verb, sirenize is a verb, sirenlike, sirenless, sirenical & sirenic are adjectives; the noun plural is sirens or (the rare) sirenes.

Odysseus and the Sirens

In Greek mythology, the Sirens were sea demons, half-woman and half bird (although there were variants in the tales).  They were said to be the daughters of Achelous and either Melpomene, Sterope or Terpsichore, Phorcys often named as their father, while it was also related they were born of the blood of Achelous when he was wounded by Heracles. There were two Sirens in the Odyssey (Homer’s eighth century BC epic poem following the ten year trek of King Odysseus (Ulysses) returning to his home island Ithaca after the decade-long Trojan War) but in the works of later authors there could be four (more often three).  Historians attribute variations in the myths to (1) authorial innovation or (2) in an age of limited literacy, poetry spread in oral performance, meaning details could become blurred.  What was consistent was the musical virtuosity of the Sirens, a popular depiction of them as a three-piece ensemble, one playing the flute and one the lyre while another sang her songs.

Sirens and the Night (1865), oil on canvas by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

The Sirens used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death; attracted by the enchanting music and voices, the seduced seafarers would sail their ships too close to the rocky coast of the nymphs' island and there be shipwrecked.  Not untypically for the myths of Antiquity, the Sirens are said to have had many homes.  The Romans said they lived on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli while later authors place them variously on the islands of Anthemoessa, on Cape Pelorum, on the islands of the Sirenuse, near Paestum, or in Capreae.  All were places with rocky coasts and tall cliffs and thus for ships potentially lethal places although the fate of sailors was more gruesome, the Sirens devouring them.  The Argonauts sailed close to the Sirens, but, using the same principle as “radio jamming” in the twentieth century, Orpheus sang as long as the crew was within earshot of them (“drowning out their signal”), so none were lured (except the unfortunate Butes, carried away by Aphrodite after he fell victim).

Temptress in Siren mode: Lindsay Lohan, First Point (2011).

It was Odysseus who most famously escaped the sirens.  Longing to hear their songs but, forewarned by Circe and having no wish to be shipwrecked and devoured, he had his sailors fill their ears with beeswax, rendering them deaf.  Then, he ordered he be tied to the mast, telling his crew that whatever he said, they were not to release him but instead tighten the knots, not cutting the bonds until the ship had sailed far from the coast.  Of course, approaching the rocks, he heard the lovely voices and implored the crew to release him but they followed their skipper’s orders, not setting him free until the danger had passed.  Some writers claimed the Sirens were doomed to die if a man heard their singing and escaped and, as Odysseus sailed off, they flung themselves into the waters and drowned but, among the myths, that was not always their fate.  The idea of the Sirens persists in idiomatic use: the term “siren sound” refers to words or something exerting a particularly compelling attraction but “siren song” or “siren call” can be used of something not directly audible, such as the thoughts evoked by a painting or even a concept; populism, fascism & communism have all been described thus.  That idiomatic use describes an enticing but dangerous appeal, especially a misleading one.

The Roman Poet Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso; 43 BC–17 AD) wrote that the Sirens were once ordinary girls, companions of Persephone; in his telling they were something “nice girls from good families who got led astray by mixing with the wrong crowd”.  When Persephone was abducted by Pluto, they asked the gods for wings so they could soar in the skies to help them search for their lost companion; that’s the most romantic explanation for the “half-woman and half bird” motif.  More unforgiving writers attributed the transformation to (1) the anger felt by Demeter when the Sirens failed to prevent the abduction of her daughter or (2) the wrath of Aphrodite who sought to deprived them of their feminine beauty because they scorned the pleasures of love.  A twist on that was that after their transformation, they made the mistake of trying to rival the muses who avenged the slight by plucking the Sirens’ feathers.  In a literary sense, the nymphs certainly exerted on authors a siren call.  The tomb of the Siren Parthenope was said to be in Naples, where her body had been cast upon the shore and that geographical connection is in the narrative strand in which Parthenope was a hauntingly beautiful Phrygian girl who fell in love with Metiochus but could not bring herself to break her vow of chastity.  She cut off her hair and ran off into exile in Campania (close to Naples) where she dedicated herself to Dionysus, something possibly the origin of Aphrodite’s disapprobation; it was Aphrodite who turned Parthenope into a Siren as punishment for abandoning her love.  The Sirens were also said to sing for the blessed in the Islands of the Blessed; because they could play the celestial harmonies, they were often depicted on sarcophagi.

First Point (2011) by Richard Phillips (b 1962), hosted by Vimeo by courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery.  Lindsay Lohan as a siren; it would seem almost a calling.  Screened in conjunction with the 54th international exhibition of the Venice Biennale (June 2011), First Point was a short film said by the diredctor to represent a “new kind of portraiture.”  Filmed in Malibu, California, the piece was included in the Commercial Break series, presented by Moscow's Garage Center for Contemporary Culture (now Garage Museum of Contemporary Art); although the promotional notes indicated it would include footage of the ankle monitor she helped make famous, the device doesn't appear in the final cut.

Directed by: Richard Phillips & Taylor Steele
Director of Photography: Todd Heater
Costume Designer: Ellen Mirojnick
Creative Director: Dominic Sidhu
Art Director: Kyra Griffin
Editor: Haines Hall
Color mastering: Pascal Dangin for Boxmotion
Music: Tamaryn & Rex John Shelverton

The Chrysler Air Raid Siren and the Firepower V8  

According to Guinness World Records, the loudest sirens ever were the 350-odd built in the early 1950s by Chrysler for the US government and installed around the country to warn of an impending nuclear attack by the Soviet Union.  The maximum volume the devices generated was recorded (at a distance of 100 feet (30.5 m)) as 138 dB (decibels), a level at which a human would suffer at least temporary deafness if within around 200 feet (60 m) during operation.  Guinness noted the compressor discharge throughput at peak volume was 74 m³ (2,610 cubic feet at 7 lb per square inch) of air per second and the physics of fluid dynamics (air a fluid in this context) was such this would have caused a sheet of paper in the path spontaneously to ignite.  By comparison the now retired SST (supersonic transport) airline Concorde at take-off produced noise levels between 112-114 dB at a distance of 100 feet and even afterburner equipped military jets (F-16, F-35 etc) haven’t been recorded as generating levels as high as 138 dB.

Although there were ebbs in the tensions, the “High Cold War” is defined usually as the time between the early 1950s and late 1960s, the public's fear of thermo-nuclear war at sometimes acute. In popular culture, the subject was a popular with authors and film-makers, the best known including the book On the Beach (1957) by Neville Shute (1899-1960) and the memorable film Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964), based on the novel Red Alert (1958) by Peter George (1924–1966).  The US government made many preparations for such an event, notably building vast underground facilities where essential personnel (members of the administration, the Congress, their families and servants) could live until it was safe for them to emerge into the post-apocalypse world and stake claim to whatever habitable real-estate remained.  The taxpayers who paid for these facilities were of course rather less protected but the government in 1952 did install warning sirens in cities; people might still be vaporized by comrade Stalin's (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) H-Bombs but they would know what was coming so there was that.

US war-room film set for Stanley Kubrick's (1928-1999) film version of Dr Strangelove.  Upon becoming president in 1981, Ronald Reagan (1911-2004, POTUS 1981-1989) was reported as being disappointed nothing quite so dramatic actually existed, the White House's “Situation Room” something like what would be used by an insurance company to conduct sales training seminars.  The story is thought likely apocryphal but there is documentary evidence Mr Reagan did sometimes confuse historic fact with what he's seen in movies.

The early version of the warning siren was co-developed by Chrysler and Bell Labs and named CBVS (Chrysler Bell Victory Siren) which, given the consequences of nuclear war, seems at least optimistic.  Technically, although the acoustic properties met the specification, the drawback was the devices manually were activated and controlled, requiring someone physically to be on-location to start the thing and, being directional, rotate it so the sound would be broadcast 360o.  The obvious flaw in that was, were  there to be a nuclear attack in the area, the job-description, at least potentially, was self-sacrificial, something comrade Stalin doubtless would have thought just the part of the cost of war with the unfortunate patriotic soul posthumously to be awarded the coveted Герой Советского Союза (Hero of the Soviet Union) decoration.  However, neither the White House or the Pentagon liked the optics and revised specifications for the sirens were issued.

Photograph by Rob Storms of Chrysler Air Raid Siren atop Rochester Fire Department Maintenance Building, Rochester, Monroe County, New York.

Chrysler's engineers responded with a more elaborate device, automated and remotely administrated; because it was developed wholly in-house, the corporate-themed acronym CARS (Chrysler Air Raid Siren) was coined.  Introduced in 1952, the new design was powered by Chrysler’s new, 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi-head V8, rated at what was then a stellar 180 HP (134 kW), a three-stage compressor added to increase output.  Instead of demanding a doomed operator, there was a control panel connected (with nothing more than the two-pair copper cables that became familiar as Cat3 “phone-wire”) to dedicated phone lines so it could be activated either by local civil defense authorities or the military.  The big V8 provided sufficient power to both increase the dB and the geographical coverage, the siren able to be heard over an area of some 15.8 square miles (41 km2), an impressive number given the electric sirens used today for tornado and tsunami warnings have an effective footprint of only some 3.9 square miles (10 km2).

Chrysler Air Raid Siren being delivered on the back of a Dodge flatbed truck, 1953.

In 1952, there was no engine better suited to the task than Chrysler’s new “FirePower” Hemi V8.  Applying their wartime experience building a number of high-output, multi-cylinder engines (the most remarkable a V16 aero-engine rendered obsolete by jet technology before it could be used), the FirePower featured hemispherical combustion chambers and was the corporation’s first use of OHV (overhead valves) in passenger vehicle engines.  Both OHV and hemispherical combustion chambers had been around for decades but, before long, Chrysler would make a (trade-marked) fetish of “Hemi”, continuing cheerfully to use the name for a range of V8s introduced in 2003 even though they no longer used a true hemi-head, the design unable to be adapted to meet modern exhaust emission laws.  The so-called “third generation” Hemi remains available still although how long it will last will be a matter of the interplay of politics and demand.  Doubtless, it’s on Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) long (and expanding) hit-list and that she and the engine arrived on planet Earth in the same year won't much impress her.

Chrysler FirePower 392 cubic inch (6.4 litre) V8 in 1957 Chrysler 300C Convertible.  In the jargon, the pair of four barrel carburetors were dubbed  “dual quads”.

First sold in 1950, the FirePower appeared first as a 331, growing over the decade to 354 (5.8) and then 392 (6.4) before being retired in 1959, the wedge-headed alternative with increased displacement a cheaper path to power (the hemi heads needing special machining and the valve-train was heavy and labor-intensive to assemble).  Chrysler and Imperial shared the engines but remarkably, in an approach that would today shock accountants and efficiency experts, the companion divisions (De Soto & Dodge) produced nine different hemi-head V8s with capacities between 241 (4.0) and 345 (5.6) with relatively little commonality of components between them all.  The last of the FirePowers were noted also for being one of the first engines offered with electronic fuel injection (built with analogue components) but while that offered real advantages over the mechanical systems then available in a handful of models in Europe and the US, the technology was then too fragile to be reliable and most of the 16 sold (reputedly all but one) were recalled and retro-fitted with a pair of faithful four barrel carburetors.  In 1964, the hemi-head was revived for a racing engine and, to satisfy the regulatory body that had been unimpressed with the use of such a thing in a series for “stock” cars, it was made available to the public between 1966-1971, this time called “Street Hemi”.  In 426 cubic inch (7.0 litre) form, it gained a reputation Chrysler would exploit for decades after production ended.

Some 350 CARS were built, all by the Chrysler's M&I (Marine & Industrial Engine Division, based in Trenton, Michigan) with some maintained in service as late as the 1970s.  During the era of détente, the last were retired, some sold to museums or collectors while other were just abandoned because, mounted atop tall buildings to maximize their acoustic coverage, the cost of removal far exceeded their value as units to be re-purposed or scraped.  At least three fully functional CARS still exist, one in a remote part of Texas where it’s safe to stage the occasional demonstration of the sound.  During these displays, the clear zone (minimum safe distance) extends outwards 320 feet (97.5 metres) but even at this range, anyone standing directly in front of the projection horns would find the experience uncomfortable, prolonged exposure risking some damage to the eardrums.  Although directional, there’s much “sound soak” in the device's proximity so just operating the siren from the side control panel requires hearing protection (acoustic earmuffs rated at a minimum 30 dB).

CARS at the Don Garlits Museum of Drag Racing, re-awakened after decades, 1997.

One collector attracted to them was Don Garlits (b 1932) who, in the post-war years, was among the most innovative and successful drivers and builders in the then wildly popular sport of drag-racing and it was with highly-modified Chrysler Hemis (the HP (horsepower) of which would come to be generated in thousands) he built his reputation.  In 1997, a documentary crew from the UK visited Garlits and saw one of the old CARS sitting neglected in the storeroom where it’d sat for decades after having spent some 20 years in salt-laden air atop a Florida high-rise.  Remarkably, after doing little more than connecting a battery and checking the oil and coolant, once a carburetor had been bolted on with a can of gas (petrol) rigged up, it started almost immediately, a reasonable achievement given it had never before run on gasoline because the CARS always used propane.  As Garlits over the decades had discovered a ¼ mile (402 metres) at a time, the FirePower Hemi was a tough old thing.

The Siren Suit

Weldon pattern for siren suit, 1940.  Home-made clothes used to be common and wartime conditions made the practice spike.  The production and distribution of patterns was a significant industry, enduring, at a smaller scale, to this day.

Unrelated to the seductive Sirens of mythology, the “siren suit” was a World War II (1939-1945) era coining describing a garment “ideal to wear when there was a risk of an air-raid siren sounding”.  The design wasn’t new; they would have been familiar to previous generations as the “overalls” mechanics and such wore to protect their clothing from oil and dirt, the novelty being the application.  Because “the Blitz” (the bombing campaign against London and other English cities waged by the Luftwaffe (the German Air Force) in 1940-1941) was conducted at night, that meant air-raid sirens were most likely to sound when people were in bed and the attraction of the “overall-like” siren suit was it could be worn over nightwear (pyjamas, nighties and such), meaning that upon being wakened by the siren, time would not be wasted getting dressed before rushing off to seek shelter; all one need to put on was one’s shoes.  With wool, silk & cotton supplies being diverted to military production, recycled blends using the more available rayon came increasingly to be used and the versatility of the synthetic made it popular; available in a variety of weights, unlike fabrics made from natural fibres, it was not subject to creasing or shrinkage.  In 1940, the most commonly requested feature was a “hood” and these came to be included on many, often with a lining for additional warmth.  Stylistically and conceptually, the siren suit can thus be imagined as a “proto-onesie”, one of the twenty-first century’s more controversial garments, not so much for what is it (warm, comfortable, convenient) but for where some choose to frequent while wearing one (Walmart, fast food outlets and such).

Wartime individualism, circa 1941: Despite wartime privations, fashion sense didn’t die and ways were found to individualize even the most starkly functional items.

As this publicity shot indicates, gas-masks were in the UK of 1940 a piece of compulsory kit for civilians, the use of poison gas expected by many in politics and the military.  Ironically, of all the leaders in the era, it was only Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who was enthusiastic about the use of gas as a weapon, thinking it ideal to deploy on beaches in the event of an amphibious assault by the Wehrmacht (the German military (1935-1945)).  Even Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) explicitly ruled out the use of poison gas, despite the Germans also holding large stocks.  Although in 1918 Hitler had learned of Germany’s capitulation when in hospital recovering from the temporary blindness suffered after being gassed, his unwillingness to use gas was not a humanitarian gesture but because the unpredictability of the wind (in Europe the “westerly” (ie from west to east) the prevailing type) made use too risky.

As a unisexual style, by 1940, the siren suit wouldn’t have been too shocking a challenge to the fashion police.  Although the tradition is longer still, in the West, women routinely (if not universally) had been wearing “trousers” since the mid-nineteenth century (for sport, work & leisure, the light and convenient “pyjama-suit” welcomed by many) and, during World War I (1914-1918), as in increasing numbers they entered the industrial workforce to replace men conscripted for military service, the sheer functionality of trousers was compelling (and often, for safety reasons, compulsory); women in overalls became commonplace.  Given the purpose, the early siren suits (the less pleasing “blitz suit” never catching on) were designed with little in mind except comfort, warmth and speed in donning so most were fastened with a zip though the photographic record confirms buttons or snap-fittings were also used, mass-production made immediately possible because they could be sewed on the same lines used to make overalls.  Winston Churchill often was photographed in his siren suit and while that promoted use, it also confirmed the style was not “slimming”.  Even more than overalls, siren suits seem to have featured generously-sized pockets, a thoughtful addition permitting those disturbed from their slumber quickly to stash valuables and the essentials needed for a few hours in an air-raid shelter while retaining the recommended “hands-free” status.  Coincidentally, the siren suit fitted in with the wartime “fashion zeitgeist” the rationing of fabrics and other materials imposing on clothing simplicity and a reduction in bulk.  Even after that economic imperative had faded, that simplicity would remain influential in the post-war years, most obviously in the minimalist movement, effects achieved with severe cuts rather than fussy embellishments.

Winston Churchill (left) in siren suit with comrade Stalin (right), the Kremlin, Moscow, August 1942.

The prime minister had earlier worn the same Siren suit on a visit to the White House to meet Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945) and it was much admired, the FLOTUS (Eleanor Roosevelt (1884–1962; FLOTUS 1933-1945) even saying she’d like to have one made for her husband, if “…the wool shortage” would allow it.  Decades later, during his visit to Washington DC, Volodymyr Zelenskyy (b 1978, President of Ukraine since 2019) found his similar sartorial choice not as well-received.  According to Churchill, even before the war he’d been inspired by the “coveralls” worn by coal miners to commission the London tailors Turnbull & Asser to create a bespoke one for him, finding it just the thing to wear when enjoying his hobby of painting.  Upon the country being threatened by bombing, he ordered several, his specifications recorded in the company’s archives: “Generously cut, with two breast pockets, a zip fastening, roomy side pockets, a belt and pleats to the front of the trousers.”  To suit their client’s whims, Turnbull & Asser made them in various fabrics including the same pinstripe as some of his suits, a durable serge twill and one in a velvet of striking emerald green, still on display in their London store.  There’s nothing to suggest he ever worn one made from utilitarian rayon.

Saturday, July 18, 2026

Epoch

Epoch (pronounced ep-uhk or ee-pok)

(1) A particular period of time marked by distinctive features, events etc.

(2) The beginning of a distinctive period in the history of anything.

(3) A point in time distinguished by a particular event or state of affairs; a memorable date.

(4) In geology, any of several divisions of a geologic period during which a geologic series is formed (much associated with rock formation).  An epoch (the shortest division of geologic time) is a sub-division of a period.  As a geochronologic unit, an epoch can range between hundreds of thousands to millions of years.

(5) In astronomy, an arbitrarily fixed instant of time or date, usually the beginning of a century or half century, used as a reference in giving the elements (such as coordinates of a planetary orbit) relating to a celestial body.

(6) In astronomy, the mean longitude of a planet as seen from the sun at such an instant or date.

(7) In chronology, astronomy & computing, a specific instant in time, chosen as the point of reference or zero value of a system that involves identifying instants of time.

(8) In physics, the displacement from zero at zero time of a body undergoing simple harmonic motion (the displacement of an oscillating or vibrating body at zero time).

(9) In AI (artificial intelligence), one complete presentation of the training data set to an iterative machine learning algorithm.

1605-1615: From the Medieval Latin epocha, from the Ancient Greek ἐποχή (epokhḗ) (epochē) (a check, cessation, stop, pause, fixed time, epoch of a star (ie the point at which it seems to halt after reaching the highest, and more generally the place of a star (thus the extension of use to “a historical epoch”))), from ἐπέχω (epékhō, (to hold in, check), the construct being ἐπι- (epi-) (upon) + ἔχω (ékhō) (to have, hold), from the primitive Indo-European root segh- (to hold).  The early seventeenth century adoption in English of epocha was in the sense of “point marking the start of a new period in time” and it was used by scholars and theologians of momentous events in history (the crucifixion of Christ; the Visigoths gathering at the gates of Rome etc).  Less than a decade after epocha had entered the language, the transferred meaning “a period of time” was in use and it entered the jargon of geology in 1802 although the technology then did not permit precise measurements and exploration was then embryonic (what are now understood as dinosaur fossils not so classified until 1824) so most of the early estimates of geological epochs were inaccurate.

Confusingly, “epoch” can be used either to refer to a distinct and defined historic period (ie with an agreed beginning & end) or the event associated with the beginning of that period.  The latter concept is best understood in the adjectival forms “epoch-making” and “epochful”.  Subepoch is a technical term from geology, used as a geochronologic unit comprising one or more ages, being a period of generally agreed significance within an epoch.  The companion superepoch (two or more sequential epochs references as one for illustrative or didactic purposes is non-standard.  In statistical analysis, sub_epoch, base-epoch, super_epoch & primary_epoch exist as commands in aspects of database handling and manipulation, the link being the use of “datum” as epoch’s coordinate term in cartography and engineering.  The alternative form epocha was in use between the seventeenth & nineteenth centuries.  Epoch is a noun & verb, epochful, epocjless & epochal are adjectives and epochally is an adverb; the noun plural is epochs.

Bal du moulin de la Galette (Dance at Le Moulin de la Galette, 1876), oil on canvas by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841–1919), Musée d'Orsay, Paris

The Belle Époque (appearing in texts often as La Belle Époque with capitalization not always used) was a period in European history characterized by peace, progress, cultural refinement and artistic innovation; the term was an adoption of the French La Belle Époque (literally “the beautiful era” and best understood as “the golden age”).  Historians date the start of the Belle Époque from the end of the Franco-Prussian War (1970-1871) although, “on the ground” it likely wasn’t so clear-cut because the impositions of war reparations made the first few post-war years “difficult” in France so “mid-1870s” may be a better point of origin.  The Belle Époque lasted until the blast of World War I (1914-1918) destroyed the continent’s sense of optimism and ended an era characterized by what might now be call an “end of history” feeling that held things like wars, famines and plagues were in the past and the future would be one of progress and improvement.

Art Nouveau.

An advertisement (1899) for Moët & Chandon's champagnes, designed by Czech painter & graphic artist Alphonse Mucha (1860–1939):  “White Star” champagne (left) & “Grand Crémant Imperial” (right).  The product is very much a period piece, Art Nouveau characterized by swirling shapes, stylized representations of women and intricate floral motifs.  For those with enough disposable income, La Belle Époque must have been an amusing time to live.  The “modern industrial” sense later summoned by the straight, sharp and geometric lines of Art Deco was a deliberate rejection of Art Nouveau's intricate, hand-crafted aesthetic yet in Art Deco the influence of the earlier style often is apparent.  Although by the 1920s unfashionable and in the inter-war years casually dismissed by many critics and historians, Art Nouveau's popular appeal never went away.  While there was never really a “revival”, the style's motifs remained a staple of commercial graphic art and the various “nostalgia movements” before being “cherry picked” by pop art, psychedelia and postmodernists.   

Those 40-odd years of what came to be called La Belle Époque were not without conflict or economic disruptions and it must be remembered Europe’s “golden age” was one of untroubled pleasure only for a select few, most of the population living lives of hard labor and drudgery, many on a variation of the Hobbesian (the very clever and deliciously wicked English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679)) path: “nasty, crowded, brutish and short”.  La Belle Époque is a selective construct of the era’s intellectual and aesthetic landmarks in art, literature and architecture, characterized by opulence, eclecticism and an undeniable dynamism from which emerged movements such as Futurism, Cubism and Art Nouveau.  Viewed from our troubled times, the Belle Époque exists in a warm nostalgic glow and it’s telling the term first gained popularity in France during the 1930s, the decade of the Great Depression.  Even then, La Belle Époque was still in living memory but because it became mythologised as a “golden age”, it was as myth it passed into history.

Lindsay Lohan entering her fifth decade.  Her five eras thus far may loosely be labelled: (1) child star, (2) troubled Hollywood starlet, (3) nemesis, (4) reinvention and (5) redemption.

Signed to the Ford agency, Lindsay Lohan secured her first modelling gig aged three but what’s understood as the “Lindsay Lohan era” ran for the decade after the release of Mean Girls (2004).  It was characterized by her low-speed car crashes, court appearances and becoming a staple of the tabloid press and lower reaches of the glossy magazine industry, a reasonable contribution to GDP (gross domestic product), providing predictable cash flow for paparazzi on both sides of the Atlantic.  Improbable as it once seemed, she proved a survivor in the churn of the industry's destructive “child star” machine and on 2 July, 2026 celebrated her 40th birthday.  That happened during the 23rd FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Football Association (the International Federation of Association Football which, for historic reasons, recognizes more countries than the UN (United Nations)) World Cup and, on the day, playing at the Bay Area Stadium in Santa Clara, San Francisco, USA beat Bosnia-Herzegovina 2-0 so that was a good birthday present.  

Geologyin's illustration of the concept of geological epochs.

In scientific usage there is precision, the ICS (International Commission on Stratigraphy) codifying a strict hierarchy on the discipline of geology, the structure being Eon → Era → Period → Epoch → Age.  However, in ordinary English discourse (and even in the work of professional scholars and historians) there is no fixed hierarchy in that an age may be longer than an era and an era may be longer than an epoch; unless following established conventions, writers can opt for whichever word best conveys the intended nuance, a choice that can be influenced by the search for rhetorical effect or the rhythm of the narrative.  So, in the way of English, there are no “rules” but, as a general principle, (1) Age = “known for...”, (2) Era = “lasting period of...” and (3) Epoch = “a period with a turning point that defined its nature.”  The overlaps in use don’t usually cause confusion but among the fastidious there are acknowledged nuances and accepted conventions of use:

(1) An epoch is a distinct period marked by particular characteristics or events, thus the use in geology where defining changes or sets of conditions can be established by scientific techniques such as chemical analysis or radiocarbon dating.  In non-scientific use, because of the etymological lineage, an epoch typically begins with some sort of event thought a turning point or watershed and this can be an organic development with no exact fixed date (the Industrial Revolution) or something decidedly exact (the epoch of the computer operating system Unix is defined as 00:00:00 UTC, 1 January 1970 although this was not first set precisely then).

(2) An age is a period with a specific, dominant association.  That might be a technology (bronze age; oil age; jet age etc), a characteristic (age of empires; age of European colonialism etc) or an individual (Napoleonic age; Elizabethan Age etc).  Unlike the epochs of geologists and astronomers, “ages” can run in parallel or overlap.  While some are sequential such as the “Three Age System” (Stone Age; Bronze Age; Iron Age) tracking the evolution of humanity's tools and metalworking capabilities between prehistory and Antiquity, others can co-exist such as the Age of Sail & Age of Enlightenment.  Because of the nature of the word and historic pattern of use, of the three, “age” is the most flexible and adaptable because it’s merely associative, not exclusive and often with no precise chronology.

(3) An era is a period (by human standards usually but not necessarily long) with origins at a certain point (usually an event) and characterized by an enduring pattern; eras tend to be major historical phases or systems (the Nazi era; the analogue era etc).  Generally “era” is used to denote something coherent (though it need not be long); a stretch of history with a recognizable character, a beginning and an end.  That can reference the life of an individual (Queen Victoria lent her name to the “Victorian era” 1837-1901), several individuals (there were four Kings of England named George whose collective reign defined the “Georgian era” 1714-1830) or a specific closed-time set (the “inter war era”: 1918-1939).

Eras tour merchandise.  Canvas tapestry featuring photographs from Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour, cotton canvas, 800 mm (31½ inches) x 1220 mm (48 inches).

Taylor Swift’s “Eras” project tends to be thought of as a concert tour but it’s better imagined as pop culture’s greatest ever exercise in vertical integration, a merging of music (audio streaming, packaged (in multiples in the case of the vinyl releases) & live performance), video content, merchandise ranging from framed posters, a “limited edition” book, a film with concert footage, outfits emulating those worn on stage, jewellery, hoodies, pillows, stainless steel tumblers and more.  Although there has in recent years been a bit of mission creep, the idea of a canvas tapestry as a piece of tour merchandise in the pop music business would, until recently, likely have occurred to few.  Commerce has moved on from a half-century earlier when, at a Led Zeppelin concert, one might be able to buy a Tee-shirt (in S, M, L & XL), maybe with a choice of black or white (black quickly selling out).

Ms Swift is good with words and for the “Eras” project may have pondered using “Ages” or “Epochs”.  Given the accepted conventions (Age = “known for...”, Era = “lasting period of...” and Epoch = “a period with a turning point that defined its nature.”) and the concept of the “Eras” project, a convincing case could have been made for “Ages” because each subset was thematically distinct while the use of “Epochs” would have worked because the word is understood as a “period of time with a beginning and end” but linking each with a single “triggering event” might have descended to abstractions so “Eras” seems the best choice.  Certainly it’s unlikely she long considered using “Periods”; although etymologically defensible, it would have been decarded on much the same basis as that of the publishers of the magazine Australian Women’s Weekly who, upon in 1983 switching to issuing monthly editions, opted not to change the title to “Women’s Monthly”.

There is of course a vagueness associated with the definitions because not all “eras” and “ages” have as convenient bookends the end of one war and the start of another; that’s why context can matter.  In speaking of the time after World War II (1939-1945), “post-war era” is a common term but the meaning can vary depending on what’s being discussed.  It’d be absurd to speak of 2026 as being in the “post-war” era (although in a sense that’s true) so meaning must be gleaned from context.  The two decade period 1918-1939 came to be called both the “inter-war” and “pre-war” era (although many tend to restrict the latter to a start-point in the mid-1930s) and in much historiography there's sometimes the suggestion the “post-war” era can usefully be said to have ended some 20 years hence; that’s about 1965 so conveniently (1) in the new era of the High Cold War, (2) about the length of a then typical “generation” and (3) in the 1960s, a very different era.  So it can be inexact and some with a focus on political economy fix the end date on exactly 17 October 1973, the day OAPEC (Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries) proclaimed an oil embargo targeting the US and other states providing military aid to Israel during the 1973 Yom Kippur War.  At that point, the West’s long post-war boom, although already stuttering, ended.  In a similar vein, although also very much a Western-centric view, some historians have argued the nineteenth century is best imagined as a construct running from the close of the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) to the outbreak of World War I (1914-1918).  There’s much support for that although there are different views about the conceptual view of the twentieth century. While 1914 seems a logical starting-point, candidates for the end date include 1989 (fall of the Berlin Wall (1961-1989)), 1991 (dissolution of the Soviet Union (1922-1911)) and the 9/11 terrorist strikes in 2001.

Taylor Swift Style: Fashion through the eras.

Between March 2023 and December 2024, Taylor Swift’s “Eras” tour took in 149 shows in 51 cities over five continents; each performance ran for a remarkable 3½ hours and there was a mid-tour revision of the song set to interpolate material The Tortured Poets Department (2024), her eleventh studio album.  The “Eras” title was an allusion to the show’s format, a retrospective in which each of her albums was designated as a “musical era”, the many outfits worn tied to those themes and just as each song and each performance was a product, so could be each outfit, some available on-line for purchase by devoted Swifties.  So, as set piece events go, Ms Swift set a high bar and, on revenues in excess of US$2 billion, profits were high and continue to grow.

Even when there are precise start and end dates, things can at the margin become blurred.  Pedants enjoy pointing out the 1960s began on 1 January 1961 so an expression like “the 1960s” ends on 31 December 1969 but the decade in which most of those years existed actually includes 1970, a quirk which extends also to centuries and millennia, something ultimately a product of there being no year zero in the calendar now defining BCE (before Common Era) and CE (Common Era) (the pair the secular version of BC (Before Christ) and AD (from the Latin Anno Domini (in the year of the Lord)), all based on the (nominal) birth date of Jesus Christ.  “Ages” and “eras” can at once be “exact” and “indicative”.  Many of the civilizations of antiquity all had their so-called “golden ages” and these tended to be associated with particular dynasties or reigns.  The examples are many and are cross-cultural, including the Gupta Empire in India (mid-third to mid-sixth century AD) founded by Mahārāja Śrī-Gupta, the Tang dynasty (626-684) & the reign of Tae-tsong (618-626) in China and, in Egypt, the reigns of Sethos I and Ram'eses II (1336-1224 BC).  In the West, the use of “golden ages” is legion including in Russia during the rule of Czar Peter the Great (1672-1725) (memorable because the Russian people have not enjoyed many “golden ages”) and, of course, in England, the “Elizabethan age”, referencing the reign of Elizabeth I (1533–1603; Queen of England & Ireland 1558-1603).  However, at the granular level, the idea of the term “Elizabethan age” denoting a “golden age” in literature was contested by the English writer, literary scholar and Anglican lay theologian C. S. Lewis (1898–1963) who, in his Introduction to English Literature in the Sixteenth Century (1654), distinguished the “estimable” literature of the later Elizabethan period from what he called that of the earlier “drab age”.  Lewis found drabness in the poetry and prose of the later medieval period up to the early Renaissance, distinguishing it from the “golden era style” between circa 1580-1603.  Lewis was an uncompromising critic but while most in the profession may well agree much that was written in the fifteenth century and early Tudor period was “drab”, among those published in the period were Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542) and John Skelton (circa 1460-1529); their writing was not beyond criticism but the works were hardly drab.

Sarah Chapelle's (b 1992) Swiftie site documenting looks from The Eras tour: Fearless v6 (worn 18 October, 2024, far left), Midnights v5 (worn 16 August, 2024, centre left), 1989 v2 (worn 19 March, 2023, centre right) and Reputation v1 (worn 18 March, 2023, far right).  Some outfits can be purchased on-line but buyers should note they should not expect their appearance exactly to emulate what's “on the tin”.  

Simulacrum describes an image that while not purely realistic, maintains enough of a likeness for the subject to be recognizable.  In some jurisdictions it can be deemed “deceptive and misleading” if a product is represented in manner judged to be a “deliberate misrepresentation” intended to induce a purchase.  Legal recourse is available but is practical only if enough money is involved (such as real estate); although in theory someone purchasing a McDonalds Big Mac after being tempted by the image in the advertising might have grounds for an action, a claim of under $US10 would not impress a judge and even a class action would, on several grounds, be thrown out.  Presumably a disgruntled consumer could lodge a claim for the “pain & suffering” caused by one's Big Mac not looking as attractive as the one in the advertising but that'd likely anger the judge still more.  The classic simulacrums were the stylish images rendered in the 1960s by Art Fitzpatrick (1919–2015) & Van Kaufman (1918-1995) for GM’s (General Motors) PMD (Pontiac Motor Division) and those of Ms Swift in the Eras Tour outfits are in the same “mannerist but not quite surrealist” tradition.  Although obviously “unrealistic”, these depictions are not “deceptive and misleading” because they’re so obviously simulacral and exist only as devices, the extent of the licence taken illustrated by them appearing next to a flesh & blood Ms Swift in the same outfit.  They are “impossible” rather than “idealized”.

Super simulacrum: The Colossus of Rhodes (circa 1560), hand-colored by Dutch portrait and religious painter Maarten van Heemskerck (1498–1574) on an engraving by Dutch publisher & designer Philip Galle (1537–1612).

The Colossus of Rhodes was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and although it stood for barely half a century before being felled by an earthquake, it's ruins lying for almost a millennium as a kind of tourist attraction before the metal was carted of as scrap to be melted-down an re-cycled.  The notion the statue's legs straddled the entrance to Rhodes Harbor with tall-masted ships passing between them was wholly fanciful; even with modern materials and techniques, such a construction would be impossible.  The engineers and architects of the sixteenth century would of course have known it couldn't be done but such was the allure of the era of Classical Antiquity that brilliant myths seduced the public imagination better than tiresome facts.

Other “era-related” terminology also often used interchangeably relates to that long span of history between the fall of the Western Roman Empire (476 AD) and the dawn of the Renaissance in the late fourteenth century: (1) Middle Ages, (2) Dark Ages and (3) Medieval.  “Middle Ages” is the most obviously descriptive because it refers to the period between the dying gasps of Classical Antiquity and the cultural & artistic revival of the Renaissance while Medieval simply means “relating to the Middle Ages” (although by virtue of association and use, it came to be used also as a slur).  As general principle, historians tend to divide the Middle Ages into (1) Early (476-circa 1000), (2) High (circa 1000-circa 1300) and (3) Late (circa 1300-circa 1500).  “Dark Ages” reflected the prejudices of fifteenth century writers who regarded the earlier Middle Ages (476-circa 1000) as a period of stagnation, lack of progress and “intellectual darkness”, a stark contrast to the idealized vision of Classical Antiquity they constructed from what evidence there was, “filling in the gaps” with imaginations as famously vivid as any of the Medieval scribes and artists responsible for some fabulous beasts.  The Seven Wonders of of the Ancient World” they found especially compelling, some of their speculative depictions of the Colossus of Rhodes and the Walls and Hanging Gardens of Babylon such examples of architectural gigantism even Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) might have been embarrassed.  Maybe they looked in awe at the scale of Great Pyramid of Giza and assumed all the ancients operated in “think big” mode.

Tony Abbott (b 1957; Prime Minister of Australia 2013-2015) agitprop.

Mr Abbott's combination of relentless negativity and repetition of 3WSs (three word slogans) contributed to his resounding victory in the 2013 general election although, in office, the results were mixed and it ended badly.  Recently revived as the Liberal Party's federal president (the institution's third “Lazerus with a triple bypass” after Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; Prime Minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) and John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007)), Mr Abbott unquestionably was one of history's most effective leaders of the opposition but as Roy Jenkins (1920–2003) remarked of Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895):  “He was essentially a opposition politician and behaved as such even when in government”.  Of such matters, Jenkins was a fair judge.  Although medieval may literally mean “relating to the Middle Ages” and can be used as a neutral adjective (medieval architecture, medieval manuscripts etc), it is also used as a term of derision: “Mr Abbott’s views on certain topics seem distinctly medieval although, to be fair, the thirteenth century probably never produced a finer mind”.  Used in that way, it implies “outdated, harsh or unenlightened”, a throwback to the stereotypes of the Dark Ages but more recent scholarship has cast doubt on whether the “Dark Ages” was a time as culturally sterile and technologically stagnant and was for centuries an orthodoxy among historians.  A view now more popular is the earlier conceptions of the period were formed because of the relative scarcity of written records and although it’s now clear there was progress in agriculture, law, architecture, theology, literature, engineering and state formation, it is true that compared with what came before and what followed, progress often was fitful.  Of note also is there were in the Renaissance and beyond not a few who didn’t count “advances in theology” as progress worth mentioning.