Calumny

Calumny (pronounced kal-uhm-nee)

(1) A false statement, maliciously made, designed to injure the reputation of someone or something; a malicious utterance of false charges or misrepresentation; slander; defamation.

(2) The act of uttering calumnies; defamatory words.

(3) Such a false charge or misrepresentation.

(4) As “oath of calumny”, in historic Scots law, a method for the prevention of calumnious and unnecessary suits, by which both parties at the beginning of a cause swear, either personally or through counsel, that the facts set forth by them are true.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English calumnīe (false accusation, slander; objection raised in bad faith), from the fifteenth century Old French calomnie (slander (that in modern French endures as calomnie), from the Latin calumnia (trickery, subterfuge, misrepresentation, malicious charge), the construct being calumn- (thought originally a participle of calvī (to deceive; to trick) + -ia +-y).  The source of the Latin is murky but there are etymologists who maintain the primitive Indo-European cognates include the Ancient Greek kēlein (to bewitch, cast a spell) the Gothic holon (to slander), the Old Norse hol (praise, flattery), the Old English hol (slander) & holian (to betray) and the Old High German huolen (to deceive).  It’s suspected the whole group is from the same root as call.  The English word is a doublet of challenge.  Calumny is a noun & verb, calumniousness, calumniator & calumniation are nouns, calumniate, calumniated & calumniating are verbs, calumniatory & calumnious are adjectives and calumniously is an adverb; the noun plural is calumnies.

The Latin -ia and the Ancient Greek -ία (-ía) & -εια (-eia) were used to form abstract nouns of feminine gender (countries, diseases, species etc and, occasionally, collections of stuff).  The –y suffix was from the Middle English –y & -i, from the Old English -iġ (-y, -ic), from the Proto-Germanic -īgaz (-y, -ic), from the primitive Indo-European -kos, -ikos, & -iḱos (-y, -ic).  It was cognate with the Scots -ie (-y), the West Frisian -ich (-y), the Dutch -ig (-y), the Low German -ig (-y), the German -ig (-y), the Swedish -ig (-y), the Latin -icus (-y, -ic), the Sanskrit -इक (-ika) and the Ancient Greek -ικός (-ikós); a doublet of -ic.  The –y suffix was added to (1) nouns and adjectives to form adjectives meaning “having the quality of” and (2) verbs to form adjectives meaning "inclined to".  Words such as derogation, vilification, disapprobation obloquy, traducement etc can in meaning tend towards calumny don’t of necessity carry the “legal baggage” associated with fraudulent misrepresentation, defamation and such.  The modern slang “diss” (from Jamaican English or AAVE (African American Vernacular English and probably a short form of “disrespect” rather than “disparage”) can describe statements sounding calumnious typically they’re a traducement rather than something defamatory.  The adjective calumnious (slanderous, using calumny) emerged in the late fifteenth century and was the equivalent of the Latin calumniosus.  The verb calumniate (knowingly utter false charges) was from Latin calumniatus, past participle of calumniari (falsely to accuse) in use since the 1550s.  The noun calumniation (act of calumniating) was first documented in the 1540s and was the noun of action from calumniate.  The rarely-used noun calumniator (one who falsely and knowingly accuses another of anything disgraceful or maliciously propagates false reports) was in use by the 1560s, from Latin calumniator, an agent noun from calumniari.

Calumny is of course a feature of political exchanges but lest anyone suspects the twenty-first century represents a low point in public politeness, press reports of eighteenth & nineteenth century election campaigns are available and after reviewing these, readers can decide on which side of the Atlantic discourse was most calumnious.  The word calumny is now not commonly applied to political insults (thought often well-deserved) but is a part of the legal jargon in jurisdictions in the common law tradition.  In law, the use of “calumny” rests on the notions of “false, fraudulent & malicious” and is heard most often in matters of probate (the process of verifying the legality of a will).  In the administration of probate “fraudulent calumny” describes the act of a beneficiary making false representations to the person making their will (the testator or testatrix) about another person, the outcome of which is: (1) the beneficiary making the false representations inherits to a greater extent or (2) the person the subject of those representations inherits less.  While these outcomes may be similar to instances in which “undue influence” has been exercised upon a testator or testatrix, what makes fraudulent calumny different is that some sort of falsehood must be involved.  In matters of undue influence, the motives of the influencer may not be pure or honorable but the method of persuasion is more subtle and need not involve untruths, something that makes proving undue influence notoriously challenging because the testator or testatrix has made and executed the will of their own volition.  The text-books sometimes use the legal slang of the “drip, drip, drip of a slow poison” to distinguish undue influence from the sudden, lethal dose of fraudulent calumny.

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

Borrowing from criminal law, the familiar maxim mens rea (from the Latin mēns + reus (literally “guilty mind” and the basis of the precept in English common law: Actus non facit reum nisi mens rea sit (the act does not make a person guilty unless the mind is also guilty), what a liability for fraudulent calumny hinges on is not that a representation was false but that it was by the calumniator known to be false or they were so reckless as to not to verity the authenticity of what they said.  Probate can however be a tangled web and in the case law there have been instances where conduct clearly was calumnious yet fraudulent calumny was not found because it was proved the disinheritance of the subject of the untrue representations (for wholly unrelated reasons) anyway have happened in accordance with the wishes of the testator or testatrix.  So there can be “other contextual reasons” leading to a will being changed and courts can find their existence wholly excludes the possibility of fraudulent calumny or reduce the strength of the “fraudulent calumny argument”, the latter vaguely along the lines of the “contributory negligence” concept in tort law.  As a category of claim to challenge the validity of a will, fraudulent calumny is in most jurisdictions rare for the practical reason it is so seldom successful; that’s not to say the act is necessarily uncommon, just that it’s hard to prove.  In some cases this can be because there’s a complete lack of evidence.  A malicious falsehood might well be told to someone making out their will that has the direct and immediate effect of them disinheriting the slandered party and making the person telling the untruth the sole beneficiary but, if only two people were ever part of a conversation behind closed doors and one is dead, there likely will be no evidence the untruth was ever uttered and while there may be other grounds upon which the will might be challenged, it usually would not be possible to find fraudulent calumny.

Nor is mere “untruth” or “recklessness” enough to sustain a finding of fraudulent calumny.  Were someone to have made any number of false representations to a testator or testatrix, even if it was found their will was in some way disadvantageous to the slandered party, if there’s compelling evidence the representations had no effect of the decisions of the testator or testatrix, there can be no finding of fraudulent calumny because there exists no casual connection between one act and another.  So it’s limited and intent alone does not create grounds.  Even if it can be proven the falsehoods were intended to cause a will to be changed that “guilty mind” become irrelevant if those statements can be shown to have had no effect.  In that it differs from the application of criminal law where, if one attempts to murder someone but is so inept the target (1) suffers no harm, (2) was unaware an attempt on their life had been made, (3) and in some way benefited from the attempt and (4) the perpetrator suffered some injury in making the attempt, the offence of attempted murder has still been committed and the incompetent assassin may be subject to prosecution.  So, on the path to the fraudulent calumny finishing line there are many hurdles and what a claimant must demonstrate is:

(1) One or more false representations were made.

(2) The representation(s) were made to the testator or testatrix.

(3) The representation(s) went to character or conduct of an existing or potential beneficiary of the will.

(4) The representation(s) were made for the purpose of inducing the testator or testatrix to alter their testamentary dispositions either (4.1) to leave more to the person making the false representation(s) or (4.2) exclude or leave less to the subject of the false representation(s).

(5) The false representation(s) must have been made in the knowledge they were untrue or with recklessness as to their truth

(6) On the balance of probabilities (ie, the common law test in civil matters), it was the false representation(s) that induced the induced the testator or testatrix to change their will.

That means it hangs on intent, event, cause and effect, thus the frequency with which lawyers use the phrase “notoriously difficult to prove” when the possibility of fraudulent calumny comes up in conversation; one can prove intent and event and even that the desired effect happened but if the cause was found to be unrelated, there can, as a matter of law, be no fraudulent calumny.  Despite the obstacles, the concept is simple: “The alleged “poisoner” is receiving a greater share of the estate than the claimant believes is (1) fair and (2) in accordance with the deceased’s true wishes and his has been achieved by the poisoner “poisoning” the mind of the testator or testatrix with untruths.”  Although “challenging”, on the basis of the evidence presented, courts can find fraudulent calumny established (although in some cases the judgment has made it difficult to work out “undue influence ended” and “fraudulent calumny began”.  Typically, except for theorists,  that matters little because the outcome is the critical point.  In Edwards v Edwards [2007] EWHC 1119 (Ch), a woman of 86 died some three months after cutting from her will one son & grandson, leaving the remaining son the estate’s sole beneficiary.  The evidence suggested the testatrix had at the time she executed her final will enjoyed full “testamentary capacity” (ie the “being of sound mind” thing) and both understood and approved the document’s contents; the burden to produce “compelling evidence” of undue influence or of fraudulent calumny thus fell upon the claimant seeking to have the new will set-aside in favour of the original executed a decade earlier.

Damn! A Book of Calumny (1918) by Henry Louis “H.L.” Mencken (1880–1956).  Although it was not his fault, Mencken lived too long and even by the 1930s was thought (though not by other curmudgeons) “dated”.  The Mencken of 1918 was however the author at his best, Damn! A Book of Calumny a collection of short, cynical, punchy pieces representative of a certain strain of US thought in the era.

After reviewing the evidence, the judge found the new will had been induced by undue influence and set it aside, restoring the original.  In the summary, the judge listed the principles: (1) There is no presumption of undue influence for testamentary dispositions; the burden lies on the challenger; (2) the facts must be inconsistent with any hypothesis other than undue influence; (3) undue influence may arise through coercion (pressure overbearing the testator’s volition without convincing judgment) or fraud.  He added that “fraudulent calumny” exists where a person “poisons the testator’s mind” against a “natural beneficiary” by dishonest aspersions known to be false or made recklessly as to their truth.  In other words, “fraudulent calumny” may be thought a type of (or element in”) undue influence meaning the latter can be found to exist in the absence of the former but the former is a “flavour of the latter”.  In Edwards v Edwards, the just found both were operative.  Because fraudulent calumny cases are rare, the modern reiteration of principles was helpful.  The judge emphasized that while the relevant standard of proof is the civil balance of probabilities, the evidence must be compelling and the facts inconsistent with any innocent hypothesis.  Although understood as an old legal orthodoxy, the judgment in Edwards v Edwards confirmed fraudulent calumny is a “stand-alone” basis on which a will may be set aside, quite distinct from coercion.

Even in Kremlin the word proved useful.  On 5 March, 1940, comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) had signed an “open-ended death warrant” authorizing Lavrentiy Beria (1899–1953; head of the Soviet secret police 1938-1946) to “apply the supreme penalty, shooting” to Polish POWs (prisoners of war) who refused to accept Soviet authority; consequently almost 22,000 were executed with their the bodies buried in a mass grave in the forest of Katyn.  The corpses were unearthed by the German army in 1943 and Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1945; Nazi Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda 1933-1945), instantly alive to the possibility of driving a wedge between the Soviets and its western Allies, arranged a forensic examination through the office of the neutral Swiss Red Cross, their unambiguous findings quickly published by the Germans.  In London, the Polish government-in-exile had long suspected the Soviets were responsible for the missing troops but found their repeated attempts to pursue the matter stonewalled and their protests suppressed.

As a cynical opportunist, comrade Stalin had few peers and not only did he deny his government’s involvement in the mass murder, he accused the “London Poles” (an annoyance to him because he was backing an alternative, “puppet communist government” under his control) of siding with the Nazis, the headline “HITLER’S POLISH COLLABORATORS!” appearing in Pravda on 19 April, 1943; within a week, Moscow had broken off diplomatic relations with the London Poles for failing “to offer a rebuff to the vile Fascist calumny.”  The British and Americans were well-aware of the truth but relations with the Kremlin were in 1943 “tense” because the so-called “second front” (the invasion of Europe from the west) had again been postponed so, not wishing further to antagonize comrade Stalin, on both sides of the Atlantic, blind eye were turned to the telescopes and diplomats inclined to “make a fuss” side-lined or posted somewhere remote.  Not until after the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 did the new government of Russia admit the truth about the Katyn massacre.

The Calumny of Apelles

Apelles of Kos was one of the most renowned painters in Ancient Greece during the fourth century BC.  The work (remembered as the Calumny of Apelles) that was reputedly his greatest masterpiece was lost but a vivid description by the Syrian-born Greek writer Lucian of Samosata (circa 125–circa 187) survived and a number of artists subsequently have interpreted the text and rendered versions in their own style.  Quite how reliable was Lucian’s ekphrasis (from the Ancient Greek ἔκφρασις (ékphrasis) (literally “I describe” and in modern use understood to mean “a detailed description”) can’t be known but that he was what would now be called a “social commentator” noted for his satires rather than an art critic has made some scholars of Antiquity caution the “description” might contain the odd embellishment or “slant”.  Despite that, it’s the only extant critique of the painting so that’s what artists have had to work with.  Appelles painted his Calumny as a “revenge work” after a rival wrongfully accused him of committing an act of treason against the Egyptian king.

La Calumnia de Apeles, (Calumny of Apelles, circa 1503), engraving in black on ivory laid paper by Girolamo Mocetto (circa 1470-circa 1534) after Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506).

Mocetto based his engraving of a drawing by Mantegna and versions by other artists also exist.  The theme of calumny (false accusation) obviously is a thread running through many societies (certainly in Italy during the dying days of the late Middle Ages) so the attraction to artists is not surprising.  Ever since one stone-age man (or woman) copied another’s cave-painting and claimed the work as original, artists have been accusing each-other of this and that, some claims calumniatory, some more measured.  For historians of art, the print is interesting because it’s a “work in progress”, the shading not yet added to the basilica’s dome.  Mocetto remained true to Lucian’s words but relocated the allegory’s scene to Venice’s Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, Andrea del Verrocchio’s (circa 1435–1488) equestrian monument to Bartolomeo Colleoni (1400–1475) standing in the background.  Attended by Ignorance and Suspicion, Midas with his donkey’s ears extends his hand to Calumny while she stands at some distance.  Calumny is the most beautiful woman of her age but is riddled with malignant passions, her fury and wrath symbolized by the blazing torch she holds in one hand, the other dragging by the hair the blameless young man she has slandered; he reaches his hand to the heavens, calling on the gods to bear witness to his innocence.  Calumny is attended to by Envy, pale and wasted away by lingering illness, while following her are Fraud & Conspiracy.  Dressed in tattered black is the mournful Repentance, tears in her eyes as in shame she glances at Truth slowly approaching.

La Calumnia de Apeles (Calumny of Apelles, circa 1497), tempera on panel by Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi (Sandro Botticelli) (circa 1445-1510).

Botticelli’s Calumny is the most famous of the genre and also was true to the spirit of Lucian’s ekphrasis, the figures personifications of vice & virtue, or the powerful & powerless (the king and victim).  From left to right, they represent (1) Truth, nude and pointing upwards to Heaven, (2) Repentance, in black (3) Perfidy (Conspiracy), in red and yellow, over the innocent half-naked (4) victim on the floor being pulled forward by the hair by (5) Calumny (Slander), in white and blue and holding a flaming torch, (6) Fraud (behind), tending to Calumny's hair, (7) Rancour (Envy), a bearded and hooded man in black, holding his hand towards (8) the king's eyes to obscure his view.  On the throne, the king has the donkey's ears of King Midas, while (9) Ignorance on his right and (10) Suspicion to his left grasp the ears as they whisper into them.  The king extends his hand towards Calumny, but his gaze is averted.  Historians say it’s at least possible Botticelli had in mind some unfortunate slandered chap (perhaps himself) but some years after he finished the work, the Florentine authorities received an anonymous letter, accusing the artist of “keeping a boy” and practicing homosexuality.  There’s no record of any prosecution being initiated and the consensus is the accusation was likely motivated by envy, vengeance or other of the vices Apelles of Kos depicted, all those years ago.  So it was a calumnious letter but not necessarily an untruth, Botticelli’s proclivities a matter of historic record.  The pattern remains current; when politicians sometimes complain a prosecution of them is “politically motivated”, that may well be true but doesn’t mean they’re not as guilty as sin of that with which they’ve been charged.

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.

Laurel

Laurel (pronounced lawruhl or lor-uhl)

(1) A small European evergreen tree, Laurus nobilis, of the Lauraceae family, having dark, glossy green leaves (known also as the bay tree or sweet bay).  Trees & shrubs belonging to (or resembling) the natural order Lauraceae are said to be lauraceous.  When used as an adjective (not in the strict botanical sense), the comparative is more lauraceous, the superlative most lauraceous.

(2) Any tree of the genus Laurus.

(3) In general use, any of various similar trees or shrubs, as the mountain laurel or the great rhododendron.

(4) The foliage of the laurel as an emblem of victory or distinction.

(5) A branch or wreath of laurel foliage.

(6) In the plural (laurels or victory laurels), an award conferred (literally or figuratively) as an honor for achievement in some field or activity.

(7) An English gold coin minted in 1619, so called because the king's head was crowned with laurel.

(8) In many color charts, a green of a darker hue.

(9) To adorn or enwreathe with laurel.

(10) To honor with marks of distinction.

(11) A female given name (there have been rare instances of male use, including as a "second name" referencing some relative).

1250–1300: A dissimilated variant of the Middle English laurer (laurel), from the Anglo-Norman, from the twelfth century Old French laurier & lorier (bay tree; laurel tree), the construct being lor (bay) + -ier, from the Medieval Latin laurārius, from the Latin laurus (laurel tree), thought related to the Greek daphne (laurel), probably from a pre-Indo-European Mediterranean language.  The French suffix -ier was from the Middle French -ier & -er, from the Old French, from the Latin -ārium, the accusative of -ārius.  It was used to form the names of trees, ships, jobs etc.  The second -r- in the Middle English laurer changed to -l- by process of dissimilation.  Laurel & laureate are nouns & verbs, laureateship & laurustinus are nouns, laureled & laurelled are verbs & adjectives and lauriferous & lauraceous are adjectives; the noun plural is laurels.

Lindsay Lohan fridge magnet by Alexanton.  Laurel Hollow is an incorporated village in Nassau County on the North Shore of Long Island, New York, within the Town of Oyster Bay (where Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; POTUS 1901-1909) died).

The use to describe an emblem of victory or of distinction (hence the phrase “to rest on one’s laurels” (the original form was “repose upon”)) dates from 1831.  The phrase is now used used in the cautionary sense “don’t rest on your laurels”, a warning not to rely on a reputation gained through past successes but instead continue to strive and improve.  The companion phrase “look to your laurels” is an idiomatic expression (known in Antiquity) meaning one needs to be vigilant and attentive to one's accomplishments, skills or position because there will be those eager to surpass or outshine you.  Like “don’t rest on your laurels”, it stresses the importance of maintaining one’s competitive edge.  It was a bay leaf from a laurel shrub that Πυθία (Pythia, priestess of Pythian Apollo at Delphi) chewed during her prophetic trances.

Sirens and the Night (1865) by William Edward Frost (1810-1877).

Although most associated with women (the feminine variants including Laura, Lauren, Lori and Lorraine), Laurel is a unisex given name.  It was related to the German Lorelie and in Germanic mythology there were several tales of the lovely maiden Lorelei (luring rock) who lived upon a rock in the River Rhine.  She lured fishermen to their deaths by singing songs of such beauty they couldn't resist, a variation of the stories of the Sirens in Greek mythology.  The Sirens were legendarily beautiful but deadly creatures who used their lyrical and earthly charms to lure sailors to their death.  Attracted by their enchanting music and voices, the intrigued seafarers would sail too close to the rocky coast of the Siren’s island and be shipwrecked, there to suffer a worse fate still at the hands of the hungry Sirens.  In Homer's Odyssey (an epic poem from perhaps as long ago as the eighth century BC), 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.  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).

#metoo: Apolo persiguiendo a Dafne (Apollo chasing Daphne (circa 1637)), oil on canvas by Theodoor van Thulden (1606–1669) after Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640), Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid.

The feminine proper name Daphne was from the Greek daphne (laurel, bay tree) and in mythology was the name of a nymph.  Etymologists conclude the word is related to the Latin laurus (laurel) although the mechanism has been lost in time.  In Greek mythology, Δάφνη (Daphne), daughter of the River Ladon (and sometimes of the Thessalian River Peneus), was a nymph with whom the God Apollo fell in love; he was provoked by Cupid, having disputed with him the power of his darts which Apollo, the recent conqueror of the Python, belittled.  When he pursued her to the banks of the Peneus, she was saved from being ravished by the god who transformed her into a Laurel tree, the origin of Apollo being so often depicted crowned with laurel leaves.  None of the writers from Antiquity seem ever to have pondered whether the nymph, had she been offered time to consider the choice between being ravished by a Greek god or becoming eternally arboreous, might have preferred to permit a slice be cut from the loaf.  While at the time not of much consolation to the unfortunate Daphne, Apollo ordained that the laurels should be the prize for poets and victors and, being, at least briefly, a sentimental chap, Apollo adopted the laurel as his favorite tree so there’s that.  The site of temples and a stadium, the Grove of Daphne was a pleasure resort of renowned natural beauty, dedicated to Apollo and located near Antioch.  

Apollo and Daphne (1622-1625), sculpture in white Carrara marble by Gianlorenzo Bernini (1598–1680), Galleria Borghese, Rome.

Being a Greek myth, there are of course variants in the tales and in a Laconian version, Daphne was the daughter of Amyclas who spent her days among the mountains where she was a favourite of Artemis.  From afar, Leucippus fell in love with her and, disguising himself as a girl, joined her companions.  Daphne became fond of him (thinking him a her), but Apollo became jealous and vowing to expose his trickery, inspired Daphne and her companions with a wish to bathe.  Leucippus, obviously, hesitated to remove his clothing, but his companions forcibly undressed him and, feeling betrayed upon discovering his identity, they attacked him, his life saved only by the gods rendering him invisible.  At this point, Apollo dashed to try to seize Daphne but she ran off and in answer to her prayer, Zeus turned her into a laurel.  Latter-day interpretations of Daphne's fate have differed.  While her name lives on as a tragic hero (the girl who gave up her life rather than succumb to a sexual assault) some feminists have criticized the notion that a victim of such a crime should be transformed into something silent and thus uncomplaining.

Audrey Hepburn (1929–1993) in a “laurel leaves” hat designed by Hubert de Givenchy (1927–2018), photograph by Howell Conant (1916–1999), Switzerland, February 1962.

As an adjective, laureate (crowned with laurels as a mark of distinction) dates from the late fourteenth century and the earliest reference was to poets of particular distinction, from the Latin laureatus (crowned with laurel), from laurea (laurel crown; emblematic of victory or distinction in poetry), from the feminine laureus (of laurel).  The first known use of Laureat poete is in Geoffrey Chaucer’s (circa 1344-1400) Canterbury Tales (1387-1400) in reference to Scholar and poet of early Renaissance Italy, Petrarch (Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374), and it was used in Middle English of Greek fabulist Aesop (circa 620–564 BC) and, by the early fifteenth century of Chaucer himself.

In English the inverted form “poet laureate” was in imitation of Latin word order and although used informally since the early 1400s, the evidence suggests the first appointed by the state was probably (and perhaps posthumously) Ben Jonson (circa 1572–circa 1637) in 1638 although the first for whom the letters patent remain extant was John Dryden (1631–1700).  In the UK, the position of poet laureate is an honorary office in the gift of the sovereign but in these days, appointed on the advice of the prime minister; because few prime-ministers know much of poetry, they too take advice on the matter; in that, it's similar to the appointment of bishops, most prime ministers knowing as little of religion.  Curiously, although the office is not un-remunerated, the government describes it still as an “honorary appointment”, the advantage of that being summary dismissal is a simpler process should the poet start writing material unpleasing to the party in power.  It may be more correct to call it a kind of sinecure because while the expectation is the appointee will compose verse to mark moments of national significance, such things are not defined and nor are aspects such as frequency or length.  So it’s one of those “gentlemen’s agreements” which, as late as the 1950s was still a feature of the way the establishment ran the UK.  That would have extended also to Dame Carol Ann Duffy (b 1955, poet laureate 2009-2019), thus far the only woman appointed (she had the benefit of ticking several boxes for Gordon Brown (b 1951; prime minister of the UK 2007-2010): Scottish; female; lesbian).  Just for once, Gordon's stars aligned.

Opportunity missed: 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.

For his laureateship, Dryden's was paid an annual fee of Stg£200, the inclusion in 1630 by the doomed Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649) of an annual “butt of Canary wine”, later converted into the monetary equivalent.  A butt of wine (known also as “a pipe”) had a volume of 105 imperial gallons (126 US gallons, 477 litres) and was part of the English standardized “Cask Measurement System” regulating trade in liquids between brewers, distillers, merchants and shippers.  All graduations of the defined sizes of wooden barrels were fractions of the largest standard cask (the “tun” (210 imperial gallons (252 US gallons, 954 litres)) with a butt a half-tun and a “hogshead” half a butt (52 imperial gallons (63 US gallons, 238 litres)).  However, being English, the system was complicated by a butt of ale or beer being defined as 108 imperial gallons (130 US gallons, 491 litres).  As a unit of measurement the butt was the origin of the slang term “buttload”.  The tradition of the “butt of Canary wine” was revived on the request of Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-1998) who received 720 bottles of sherry.  Being Irish, the poet Brendan Behan (1923-1964) wouldn't have been created poet laureate but the government avoided a significant charges against the exchequer by not appointing Dylan Thomas for whom 720 bottles of anything would likely not have proved sufficient.

Barack Obama (b 1961; POTUS 2009-2017, Nobel Peace Prize laureate 2009).  The peace prize is awarded by a committee elected by the Norwegian Stortinget (parliament); it summarized the basis of their decision being President Obama's: “...extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples.”  Those skilled in deconstruction concluded the true rationale was “He is not George W. Bush” (George XLIII, b 1946; POTUS 2001-2009)).

The poet laureate's annual payment is now “Stg£5,750 and a barrel of sherry” so it’s good gig considering there are no set hours and only the vaguest KPIs (key performance indicators).  There was a time when a poet laureate was an exalted figure but these days there’s less interest and the best remembered probably still is Ted Hughes (1930–1998; poet laureate 1984-2008) and that less for his oeuvre than calls by feminists to boycott his works because he had Sylvia Plath’s (1932-1963) “blood on his quill”.  The noun laureate came into existence in the 1520s, either as an evolution from the adjective or through a mistaken reading and laureateship has been in use since 1732.  In modern use, laureate is most frequently applied to Nobel prize winners, a use that began in 1947; while many of the Nobel laureates have been outstanding figures in their field, there have been a few about as undeserving as some of the less distinguished British poets laureate.  Of the 21 who have held the office, serious critics seem to rate only Dryden, William Wordsworth (1770–1850; poet laureate 1843-1850) and Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892; poet laureate 1850-1892) as first-rate poets.

The laurel appeared in Hymn to Proserpine (1866), a poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909) exploring atheism, a theme to which he would on occasion return as he developed in verse his increasingly strident opposition to Christianity in general and stifling Victorian morality particularly.  Nominated every year between 1903 and 1909 for the Nobel Prize in Literature, his name was on the list in 1893 presented to Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) as the replacement for Tennyson as Poet Laureate but the queen vetoed him “on moral grounds” although it’s not known if she’d read or merely been told about his works discussing sado-masochism and lesbian longings.  Swinburne was of a figure of the post-Romantic disillusionment and a part of the sceptical tradition that would emerge in the nineteenth century to grow to a critical mass in the twentieth; even if not familiar with his most “disturbing” verse, Hymn to Proserpine, an address to Proserpina (in Rome, the goddess of the Underworld), lamenting that the rise of Christianity had displaced the pagan goddess and her pantheon, would alone have been enough to incur royal disapprobation.

Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean; the world has
   grown grey from Thy breath;
We have drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the
   fullness of death.
Laurel is green for a season, and love is sweet for a day;
But love grows bitter with treason, and laurel outlives
   not May.

The meaning is that both romantic love and artistic fame are fleeting, fragile, and bound to fade, the work a pagan perspective rejecting the idea of eternal life or permanent earthly glory.  In saying “Laurel is green for a season”, the leaves exist in their traditional symbolic role celebrating poetic glory, victory and cultural achievement but as “Love is sweet for a day”, while human affection can briefly be thrillingly intense, notoriously is it brief and transitory.  Just as “love grows bitter with treason” with relationships easily and often turned toxic by a betrayal or shift in faith, the “laurel outlives not May” and like spring flowers, fame dies quickly when the cultural season shifts and fashions change.  Nothing lasts forever and even the highest artistic achievements will one day dissolve into nothingness: Man can write his will across the heavens but those stars will soon dim and fall.  Swinburne found comfort not in an afterlife, but in the total, final darkness granted by Proserpine, the goddess of death.  Charmingly, Christians and pagans alike would both concur with the scriptural “Vanity, vanity, vanity of vanity of vanities, all is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) although each would draw different conclusions, the former in eternal life, the latter in peaceful oblivion.  As a footnote, Hymn to Proserpine includes cross-rhyme (known also as an interlaced rhyme) a device occurring in long couplets, the device operating on words in the middle of each line (here “season” and “treason”).