Leap

Leap (pronounced leep)

(1) To spring through the air from one point or position to another; to jump.

(2) Quickly or suddenly to move or act.

(3) To cause to leap.

(4) A spring, jump, or bound; a light, springing movement.

(5) The distance covered in a leap; distance jumped.

(6) A place leaped or to be leaped over or from.

(7) A sudden or abrupt transition.

(8) A sudden and decisive increase.

(8) In folk mythology, to copulate with or coverture of (a female beast) (archaic).

(9) In slang, to copulate with (a human) (archaic).

(10) A group of leopards.

(11) In figurative use, a significant move forward.

(12) In figurative use, a large step in reasoning (often one that is not justified by the facts, hence the sceptical phrase “a bit of a leap” & “quite a leap”).

(13) In mining (also used in geology), a fault.

(14) In aquatic management, a salmon ladder; a trap or snare for fish, historically constructed with fallen from twigs; a “weely”.

(15) In music, a passing from one note to another by an interval, especially by a long one, or by one including several other intermediate intervals.

(16) An intercalary measure, best-known as “leap year”, “leap second” et al.

(17) In pre-modern measures of weight, half a bushel.

Pre 900: From the Middle English lepen, from the Old English hlēapan, from the Proto-West Germanic hlaupan, from the Proto-Germanic hlaupaną (a doublet of lope, lowp, elope, gallop, galop, interlope and loop).  It was cognate with the German laufen (to run; to walk), the Old Norse hlaupa the Gothic hlaupan, the West Frisian ljeppe (to jump), the Dutch lopen (to run; to walk), the Danish løbe and the Norwegian Bokmål løpe, from the primitive Indo-European klewb- (to spring; stumble) (and may be compared with the Lithuanian šlùbti (to become lame) & klùbti (to stumble).  The verb forms are tangled things.  The third-person singular simple present tense is leaps, the present participle leaping, the simple past leaped or leapt (lept & lope the archaic forms) and the past participle is leaped or leapt or (lept & lopen the archaic forms).  That leapt and leaped remain in concurrent use is another of those annoy things in English which are hangovers from their ancient entrenchments in regional use and, as a general principle leapt tends to be is preferred educated British English while leaped is seen more frequently in North America (although leapt is in those places not uncommon, especially in areas with historical ties to England).  The transitive sense as in “pass over by leaping” was in use by the early fifteenth century and there are references to the children’s game “leap-frog” documented in the 1590s, and so obvious was the use of that figuratively it probably quickly was adopted but the first attested entry dates from 1704.  The familiar “to leap tall buildings in a single bound” comes from the Superman comics of the 1940s although in idiomatic use, “leaps” has been paired with “bounds” since at least since 1720.  Leap is a noun, verb & adjective, leaper & leapling are nouns and leaping and leapt & leaped are verbs; the noun plural is leaps.

The leap year is “a year containing 366 days” and use dates from late fourteenth century Middle English lepe gere, a genuine innovation because no equivalent term existed in the Old English. The origin is thought to come from the effect of fixed festival days, which normally advance one weekday per year, to “leap” ahead one day in the week.  The Medieval Latin was saltus lunae (omission of one day in the lunar calendar every 19 years), the Old English form being monan hlyp.  The adjustments happened in the calendars of many cultures, always with the purpose of ensuring the man-made devices for tracking dates (and therefore time) remained consistent with the sun; summer needed always to feel like summer and winter like winter.  Different methods of handling the intercalary were adopted and in England the bissextile was the device.  The noun & adjective bissextile (plural bissextiles) dates from the early 1580s and was from the Latin bisextilis annus (bissextile year), the construct being bisextus + -ilis, deconstructed as bis- (two; twice; doubled) + sextus (sixth) + dies (day) and was a reference to the Julian calendar's original reckoning of its quadrennial intercalary day as a 48-hour 24 February (subsequently distinguished as the two separate days of the sixth day before the March calends (sexto Kalendas Martii) and the “doubled sixth day”.  In modern use, 24 February is now understood as “five days before 1 March” but in Roman use it was called “the sixth” because the counting of dates was then inclusive.

The most physically demanding (and dangerous) part of Lindsay Lohan’s impressive leap into a Triumph TR4 in Irish Wish was undertaken by a body double (the young lady in this case deserving the “stunt-double” title).

Ready to leap: Lindsay Lohan with stunt double Aoife Bailey (b 1999).

Lindsay Lohan's Netflix movie Irish Wish (2024) was said by Irish reviewers to be "a mix of Leap Year meets Just My Luck meets Freaky Friday in which Lohan stars as quiet book editor Maddie Kelly, who embarks on a journey to find love by learning to love herself first."  Like Irish Wish, Leap Year (2010) was filmed in Ireland but unlike 2010, 2024 was a leap year.  IMCDB’s (Internet Movie Cars Database) comprehensive site confirmed the Triumph TR4 was registered in Ireland (ZV5660, VIN:STC65CT17130C) as running the 2.1 litre version (17130C) of the engine.  The Triumph 2.1 is sometimes listed as a 2.2 because, despite an actual displacement of 2138 cm³; in some places the math orthodoxy is ignored and a "round up" rule applied, something done usually in jurisdictions which use displacement-based taxation or registration regimes, the "rounding up" sometimes having the effect of "pushing" a vehicle into a category which attracts a higher rate.  Those buying a TR4 for use in competitions with a 2.0 litre limit could specify the smaller unit from the factory but being based on a tractor engine (!) and thus fitted with wet-cylinder liners, “sleeving” a 2.1 back to 2.0 wasn’t difficult.  The lack of the "IRS" (independent rear suspension) badge on the trunk (boot) lid indicates the use of the live rear axle and that detail was of no significance in the plot although, given the leap scene, a convertible of some sort would have been required.  Although on the road the IRS delivered a smoother ride, those using TR4s in competition usually preferred the live rear-axle because it made the car easier to steer “with the throttle”.

The replacement of the bissextile by the then novel 29 February every four years-odd appears such an obviously good idea it seems strange it took centuries universally to be adopted in England although the documents reveal the shift was certainly well in progress by the mid-fifteenth century and in an echo of later practices, the more curmudgeonly the institution, the slower the intrusion of the new ways, the Admiralty and houses of parliament ignoring 29 February until well into the 1500s.  It wasn’t until the Calendar (New Style) Act (1750) passed into law that 29 February received formal recognition in UK law.  The reform worked well from the start but in some jurisdictions, government lawyers took no chances and for the handful of souls born on a 29 February, their birth dates were deemed to be 28 February or 1 March for all legal purposes (eligibility for drivers licenses or pensions, age of consent etc).  One born on 29 February is a “leapling” and there are said to be a few as five million of these lonely souls on the whole planet.  In many countries hospitals and midwives note the frequency with which expectant mothers approaching March request staff do whatever is required to avoid them giving birth to a leapling, fearing the child will feel deprived by having fewer birthdays than their siblings of friends.  The math of the leap year is it is one (1) evenly divisible by 4, (2) except for years are evenly divisible by 100 except that (3) years evenly divisible by 400 are leap years.  So, 2000 was while 1900 was not; 2100 will not be a leap year, but 2400 will be.  However, because the rotation of the Earth is changing (and thus the length of days), as is its distance from the Sun, even a 29 February now and then is not enough to keep everything in sync.  So, there are also leap seconds, spliced in as needed and unlike 29 February, only those dealing with atomic clocks and such notice addition.

Leap is common in idiomatic use:  To do something in “leaps and bounds” suggests commendably quick progress.  A “leap in the dark” is to take some action while being uncertain of consequences and the related “leap of faith” is trusting in something that cannot be seen or proven so in a sense they’re two ways of saying much the same thing although “leap of faith” does also imply some trust in something or someone.  To have one’s heart “leap into one’s throat” is an allusion to the sensation felt sometimes in the throat when something scary happens.  To “leap for joy” is much the same as “jump for joy” and describes joyous happiness.  To “leap at” something is enthusiastically to take up an offer, avail one’s self of an opportunity etc.  When doing so, one might be said to “leap into action”.  To be cautioned to “look before you leap” is to suggest one should be sure of things before doing something; if one ignores the advice then it’s a “leap of faith” or a “leap into the dark”.  To “leapfrog” is to skip a step in some process, the connotation almost always positive.  To suggest someone “take a flying leap” is much the same as telling them to “go jump in the lake” or, as is now more common: “fuck off”.  The concept of the "quantum leap" was in 1913 introduced (as the "quantum jump") by Danish physicist Niels Bohr (1885–1962) in his "Bohr model" of the atom.  In the strange world of quantum mechanics it describes the discontinuous change of the state of an electron in an atom or molecule from one energy level to another and was adopted figuratively to refer to an "abrupt, extreme change".  In modern use, it has come to mean a large or transformative change, a use to which pedants sometimes object but this is how the English language works.  The “leap year bug” is jargon rather than a idiom and describes the growing number of instances of problems caused by computers (and related machines) for whatever reason not correctly handling the existence of leap years.  Most are caused by human error and some are not being rectified because the original error has been built upon to such an extent that it’s easier to handle the bugs as they occur.  If something is said to be “a bit of a leap” or “quite a leap” it means there's some scepticism about the relationship one thing and another (often cause & effect). 

Jaguar's Leaper

Left to right (top row): Buick, Packard & Pierce-Arrow; (centre row): Rolls-Royce, Bentley & Mercury; (bottom row): Duesenberg, Mercedes-Benz & Nash.

The radiator cap of course began as a mere functional device which could be unscrewed to allow coolant to be added but, inevitably, possibilities occurred to stylists (they weren’t yet “designers”) and soon the things were a small platform for miniature (though many were anything but small) works of art to covey an image to suit at least what was imagined to be the character of the vehicle on which they sat.  Although such embellishments are now remembered for their decorative qualities (and many in the art deco era during the inter-war were lovely creations), some genuinely were functional and “topping-up” the coolant was for decades a frequent part of the motoring experience so, however attractive they may have been, their use as a handle means they may be thought architectonic as well as artistic. The Jaguar Leaper had fangs and while that sounds ominous for pedestrians, some of the radiator cap & hood emblems looked more lethal still and even before the “safety movement” of the 1960s, there had been discussions about the dangers they posed.  For the safety of pedestrians, the few survivors now are spring-loaded or retract when the vehicle is in motion.

Leaper on 1960 Jaguar Mark 2 3.8.  Owners found the fitting handy when opening the hood.

“Leaper” really was the factory’s name for the lunging feline figure which for decades adorned the space atop or behind the grill on many Jaguars.  The story of the origin is murky and while there may be some myth-making in it, the most likely explanation seems to be that when late in 1934 newly appointed Ernest William "Bill" Rankin (1898-1966, Advertising Manager and Public Relations Officer, Jaguar Cars 1934-1966) settled (from a list of charismatic wild animals) on “Jaguar” as a name for a new “sporty” SS (then the company name) car and, part of the “brand identity” was to design an appropriate radiator cap ornament.  Rankin was acquainted with the draftsman & technical illustrator Gordon Crosby (1885–1943) who he knew to be an amateur sculptor and it was to him the commission was granted.  Crosby delivered a prototype cast in bronze and according to company mythology, Jaguar’s founder, Sir William Lyons (1901–1985) thought it looked like “a cat shot off a fence” but liked the concept so, lengthened and softened into something sleeker, the refined shape emerged as the “Leaper”, first fitted in 1938.  The tales do differ, some suggesting Sir William’s “cat shot off a fence” thoughts were prompted by the sight of an earlier, third–party ornament which inspired him to task Mr Rankin with finding a replacement and, in the absence of documentary proof, Jaguar fans can pick the story they prefer.

Leaper on 1950 Jaguar Mark V 3.5.  The Mark V (1948-1951) was the last Jaguar with the external radiator cap.

The SS name came from the Swallow Sidecar Company which Lyons had in 1922 co-founded with William Walmsley (1892–1961), reorganized as “S.S. Cars” after 1934 when Walmsley withdrew and the adoption in 1935 of “Jaguar” as a model name was mere marketing and nothing to do with the by then unsavoury reputation of the German SS (Schutzstaffel (protection squad), which began in 1923 as a small security guard for Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) but which evolved into a kind of parallel army for the Nazi Party and later into an armed formation almost a million-strong).  Even by 1945 when motor vehicle production resumed and the corporate name S.S. Cars formerly was changed to “Jaguar Cars Limited”, the rationale was the stronger brand identity of the latter rather than an aversion to anything associative with the Nazis.  Indeed, in 1957 Jaguar returned to SS as designation with the release of the XKSS, a road-going version of the Le Mans-winning D-Type race car.

An early Leaper (left) and the later "in flight" version (right) with the fully extended hind legs.

First fitted to production SS Jaguars in 1938, it became standard equipment on all until 1951 when the Mark V was discontinued.  As the last Jaguar to feature an external radiator cap, the assumption was that was the end of the Leaper and the strikingly modernist XK120 which created a sensation at the 1948 London Motor Show had only a radiator grill; the spirit of the age was that the ornaments were antiquated relics.  However, elsewhere in the industry, modernity and nostalgia managed peacefully to co-exist and while there was no revival of external radiator caps, the ornaments refused to die and from expensive Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royce to the most humble Austins and Chevrolets, the chromed constructions continued and sometimes grew, those not able to sit atop grills (many now with no “top” as such) re-imagined as hood (bonnet) ornaments.  So, in 1955 the Jaguar Leaper made a comeback on the new small saloon (the 2.4), the mascot using the subtle post-war re-working of the hind legs, made more outstretched to suggest the big cat in “mid-leap”, about to take its prey.  On the saloons, the design lasted 14 years and it was fitted even to the XK150 for while the XK120 in 1948 had seemed streamlined modernity exemplified, the world had moved on and by 1957, although much improved and still stylish, the lines now seemed baroque rather than minimalist; the Leaper fitting in well.  For the big Mark X saloon in 1961, paradoxically, a smaller leaper was cast and this remained in use until the car (by then called 420G) was retired in 1970 so it was thus the last of the early Leapers, the XJ unadorned upon its debut in 1968 with the last of the legacy saloons produced in 1969.  The aftermarket though remained buoyant with many XJs and XJSs fitted with Leapers by owners who liked the look or dealers who thought they would.  It does seem they were fitted at the plant to almost all the New Zealand-assembled XJs and the factory may have been in two minds about it: the hoods of all XJs (1968-1992) included in the underside marks indicating where the holes should be drilled.  Not until the X300 XJ in 1994 would they again be factory-fitted to some models (in “pedestrian friendly” spring-loaded form) and this continued until 2005.

Leaper on a US market 1999 Jaguar Vanden Plas (X308).

The US market Vanden Plas models were the only Jaguars on which the leaper was used in conjunction with the fluted grill fitted to the home market (and some RoW (rest of the world)) Daimlers.  Because it was Mercedes-Benz and not Jaguar which after 1966 held the US rights to the Daimler brand, Daimlers since then sold in the US were badged as Jaguar Vanden Plas although they were otherwise identical to Daimlers including the fluted fittings.  The supercharged Daimler Vanden Plas was the most exclusive of the X308s and was noted for details such as the rear picnic tables being crafted from solid burl walnut timber rather than the veneer over plastic used on cheaper models.

1970 S2 Jaguar E-Type (top) from the "R2" run of 1000-odd (almost all of which were registered as 1971 models although some left the factory in 1970) with the leaper badges on the flanks and leaper badges, left-side (p/n BD35865, bottom left) and right side (p/n BD35866, bottom right).

The Series 2 E-Type (1968-1971) was marred by the clutter of bigger bumpers, protuberant headlight assemblies, badges and side-marker lights and so much did they detract from lovely, sleek lines of the Series 1 cars (1961-1967), bolting a luggage rack to the boot (trunk) lid probably seemed no longer the disfigurement it would once have been.  The disfigurement had begun with the transitional E-Types (the so-called 1.25 & 1.5 cars built in 1967).  The left-hand (left) and right-hand (right) fender badges, being directional, were different part numbers (BD35865 & BD35866 respectively) and those used on E-Types were silver on black whereas the variants used on the XJs were gold on black, some of which depicted the leaping feline at a slight slope, both matters of note for those wishing to restore cars to the challenging “factory original” standard.

1976 Jaguar XJC 4.2.

This XJC is one of many in the wild which, at some point, was fitted with a leaper but it’s a shame whoever made the addition didn't at the same time remove the unfortunate vinyl roof.  Like the headlight covers sometimes added to the later (S1.25 & 1.5) S1 E-Types, removing an XJC's vinyl roof is one of the rare exceptions the originality police tolerate and even encourage.

Still under the control of the doomed British Leyland, Jaguar lacked the resources fully to develop the XJC (1975-1998) and although it was displayed to much acclaim in 1973, not for another two seasons would it appear in showrooms, the programme starved of capital because greater priority was afforded to the XJ-S (1975-1996 and from 1991 officially “XJS”, a change most of the world informally had long adopted) which was thought a product with greater potential in the vital US market.  The XJC thus debuted with problems including (1) flawed sealing of the side windows which resulted in intrusive wind-noise, (2) a tendency of the doors to droop because, although longer and thus heavier than those of the four-door saloons, the same hinges were used and (3) the pillarless (ie a two-door hardtop) construction induced a slight flexing in the roof’s metal and while not a structural issue, because regulators had (quite sensibly) had lead removed from paint, the paint on the roof was prone to crazing.  The solutions (the development of exotic paint additives or re-designing the roof with heavier-gauge metal) would have been expensive and time-consuming so, in the British Leyland tradition, the Q&D (quick & dirty) approach was preferred and a vinyl roof was glued on but modern paints mean the ugly vinyl can now be removed so the roof’s lovely lines can be admired.  The leaper badges on the flanks (behind the front wheel arch) were factory-fitted on the Series 1 (1968-1973) & Series 2 (1973-1979) XJs.

Jaguar’s cancelled Growler (left) and the new (EV-friendly) Leaper.  According to the MBAs, the message the Leaper conveys is: “Always leaping forward, it is a representation of excellence and hallmark of the brand.”

The companion bad to the Leaper was the “Growler” which featured the head of a Jaguar, mid-growl.  There were over the years many version of the growler and it appeared variously on trunk-lids, grills, steering wheel bosses and such.  Because as a fitting it was never rendered in a way likely to cause injury to pedestrians, it might have been supposed it wouldn’t be vulnerable to cancellation but it transpired the Growler poses a significant moral hazard, presumably on the basis that while the somehow sensuously feminine Leaper is acceptable, the Growler embodies toxic masculinity.  Whether Jaguar’s MBAs discovered this from focus groups or divined it from their own moral superiority hasn’t be revealed but in 2024 the company announced the Growler would not re-appear when the new range was launched in 2025.  Given the public response to the DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) themed preview of the company's EV (electric vehicle) re-brand, the presence or not of the Growler may not be of great significance but a new expression of the Leaper, (with something of a stylistic debt to the IBM logo), would be included so there’s that.

Simulacrum

Simulacrum (pronounced sim-yuh-ley-kruhm)

(1) A slight, unreal, or superficial likeness or semblance; a physical image or representation of a deity, person, or thing.

(2) An effigy, image, or representation; a thing which has the appearance or form of another thing, but not its true qualities; a thing which simulates another thing; an imitation, a semblance; a thing which has a similarity to the appearance or form of another thing, but not its true qualities

(3) Used loosely, any representational image of something (a nod to the Latin source).

1590–1600: A learned borrowing of the Latin simulācrum (likeness, image) and a dissimilation of simulaclom, the construct being simulā(re) (to pretend, to imitate), + -crum (the instrumental suffix which was a variant of -culum, from the primitive Indo-European –tlom (a suffix forming instrument nouns).  The Latin simulāre was the present active infinitive of simulō (to represent, simulate) from similis (similar to; alike), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European sem- (one; together).  In English, the idea was always of “something having the mere appearance of another”, hence the conveyed notion of a “a specious imitation”, the predominant sense early in the nineteenth century while later it would be applied to works or art (most notably in portraiture) judged, “blatant flattery”.  In English, simulacrum replaced the late fourteenth century semulacre which had come from the Old French simulacre.  As well as the English simulacrum, the descendents from the Latin simulācrum include the French simulacre, the Spanish simulacro and the Polish symulakrum.  Simulacrum is a noun and simulacral is an adjective; the noun plural is simulacrums or simulacra (a learned borrowing from Latin simulācra).  Although neither is listed, by lexicographers, in the world of art criticism, simulacrally would be a tempting adverb and simulacrumism an obvious noun.  The comparative is more simulacral, the suplerative most simulacral.

Simulacrum had an untroubled etymology didn’t cause a problem until French post-structuralists found a way to add layers of complication.  The sociologist & philosopher Jean Baudrillard (1929-2007) wrote a typically dense paper (The Precession of Simulacra (1981)) explaining simulacra were “…something that replaces reality with its representation… Simulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being, or a substance. It is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal.... It is no longer a question of imitation, nor duplication, nor even parody. It is a question of substituting the signs of the real for the real.” and his examples ranged from Disneyland to the Watergate scandal.  One can see his point but it seems only to state the obvious and wicked types like Karl Marx (1818-1883) and Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945) said it in fewer words.  To be fair, Baudrillard’s point was more about the consequences of simulacra than the process of their creation and the social, political and economic implication of states or (more to the point) corporations attaining the means to “replace” reality with a constructed representation were profound.  The idea has become more relevant (and certainly more discussed) in the post-fake news world in which clear distinctions between that which is real and its imitations have become blurred and there’s an understanding that through many channels of distribution, increasingly, audiences are coming to assume nothing is real.

Mannerist but not quite surrealist: Advertising for the 1961 Pontiac Bonneville Sports Coupe (left) with graphical art by Art Fitzpatrick (1919–2015) & Van Kaufman (1918-1995) and a (real) 1961 Pontiac Bonneville Sports Coupe (right) fitted with Pontiac's much admired 8-lug wheels, their exposed centres actually the brake drum to which the rim (in the true sense of the word) directly was bolted.

The work of Fitzpatrick & Kaufman is the best remembered of the 1960s advertising by the US auto industry and their finest creations were those for General Motors’ (GM) Pontiac Motor Division (PMD).  The pair rendered memorable images but certainly took some artistic licence and created what were even then admired as simulacrums rather than taken too literally.  While PMD’s “Year of the Wide-Track” (introduced in 1959) is remembered as a slogan, it wasn’t just advertising shtick, the decision taken to increase the track of Pontiacs by 5 inches (127 mm) because the 1958 frames were used for the much wider 1959 bodies, rushed into production because the sleek new Chryslers had rendered the old look frumpy and suddenly old-fashioned.  It certainly enhanced the look but the engineering was sound, the wider stance also genuinely improved handling.  Just to make sure people got the message about the “wide” in the “Wide Track” theme, their artwork deliberately exaggerated the width of the cars they depicted and while it was the era of “longer, lower, wider” (and PMD certainly did their bit in that), things never got quite that wide.  Had they been, the experience of driving would have felt something like steering an aircraft carrier's flight deck.

1908 Cadillac Model S: The standard 56 inch (1422 mm) track (left) and the 61 inch (1549 mm) "wide track" (right), the more "sure-footed" stance designed for rutted rural roads.  

Pontiac made much of the “Year of the Wide Track” and it worked so well “wide track” would be an advertising hook for much of the 1960s although the idea wasn’t new, Cadillac in 1908 offering a wide track option for their Model S.  While the four cylinder Cadillacs were coming to be offered with increasingly large and elaborate coachwork, to increase the appeal of the single cylinder, 98 cubic inch (1.6 litre) Model S for rural buyers, there was the option of a 61 inch (1549 mm) track, 5 inches (127 mm) wider than standard.  The extra width was designed exactly to match the ruts in the roads of the rural Southwest, cut by generations of horse-drawn wagons.  Though a thoughtful gesture, times were changing and the 1908 Model S would prove the last single cylinder Cadillac, the corporation the next season standardizing the line around the Model Thirty which upon release would use the 226 cubic inch (3.7 litre) four-cylinder engine although in a harbinger of the 1950s and 1960s, it would be enlarged to 255 cubic inches (4.2 litre) for 1910, 286 cubic inches (4.7 litres) for 1911-1912 and finally 366 cubic inches (6.0 litres) for 1914.  For 1915, there was another glimpse of Cadillac’s path in the twentieth century with the introduction of the Model 51, fitted with the company’s first V8 with a displacement of 314 cubic inches (5.1 litres).  As the photographs suggest, nor was there anything new in the luxurious tufted leather upholstery Detroit in the 1970s came to adore, the style of seating used in the early (“brass era”), up-market automobiles taken straight from gentlemen’s clubs.

Fitzpatrick & Kaufman’s graphic art for the 1967 Pontiac Catalina Convertible advertising campaign.  One irony in the pair being contracted by PMD is that for most of the 1960s, Pontiacs were distinguished by some of the industry’s more imaginative and dramatic styling ventures and needed the artists' simulacral tricks less than some other manufacturers (and the Chryslers of the era come to mind, the solid basic engineering below cloaked sometimes in truly bizarre or just dull  bodywork).

This advertisement from 1961 hints also at something often not understood about what was later acknowledged as the golden era for both the US auto industry and their advertising agencies.  Although the big V8 cars of the post-war years are now remembered mostly for the collectable, high-powered, high value survivors with large displacement and induction systems using sometimes two four-barrel or three two-barrel carburetors, such things were a tiny fraction of total production and most V8 engines were tuned for a compromise between power (actually, more to the point for most: torque) and economy, a modest single two barrel sitting atop most and after the brief but sharp recession of 1958, even the Lincoln Continental, aimed at the upper income demographic, was reconfigured thus in a bid to reduce the prodigious thirst of the 430 cubic inch (7.0 litre) MEL (Mercury-Edsel-Lincoln) V8.  Happily for country and oil industry, the good times returned and by 1963 the big Lincolns were again guzzling gas four barrels at a time (the MEL in 1966 even enlarged to a 462 (7.6)) although there was the courtesy of the engineering trick of off-centering slightly the carburetor’s location so the primary two throats (the other two activated only under heavy throttle load) sat directly in the centre for optimal smoothness of operation.  Despite today’s historical focus on the displacement, horsepower and burning rubber of the era, there was then much advertising copy about (claimed) fuel economy, though while then as now, YMMV (your mileage may vary), the advertising standards of the day didn’t demand such a disclaimer.

Portrait of Oliver Cromwell (1650), oil on canvas by Samuel Cooper (1609-1672).

Even if it’s something ephemeral, politicians are often sensitive about representations of their image but concerns are heightened when it’s a portrait which, often somewhere hung on public view, will long outlive them.  Although in the modern age the proliferation and accessibility of the of the photographic record has meant portraits no longer enjoy an exclusivity in the depiction of history, there’s still something about a portrait which conveys, however misleadingly, a certain authority.  That’s not to suggest the classic representational portraits have always been wholly authentic, a good many of those of the good and great acknowledged to have been painted by “sympathetic” artists known for their subtleties in rendering their subjects variously more slender, youthful or hirsute as the raw material required.  Probably few were like Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) who told Samuel Cooper to paint him “warts and all”.  The artist obliged.

Randolph Churchill (1932), oil on canvas by Philip de László (left) and Randolph Churchill’s official campaign photograph (1935, right).

There have been artists for whom a certain fork of the simulacrum has provided a long a lucrative career.  Philip Alexius László de Lombos (1869–1937 and known professionally as Philip de László) was a UK-based Hungarian painter who was renowned for his sympathetic portraiture of royalty, the aristocracy and anyone else able to afford his fee (which for a time-consuming large, full-length works could be as much as 3000 guineas).  His reputation as a painter suffered after his death because he was dismissed by some as a “shameless flatterer” but in more recent years he’s been re-evaluated and there’s now much admiration for his eye and technical prowess, indeed, some have noted he deserves to be regarded more highly than many of those who sat for him.  His portrait of Randolph Churchill (1911-1968) (1932, left) has, rather waspishly, been described by some authors as something of an idealized simulacrum and the reaction of the journalist Alan Brien (1925-2008) was typical.  He met Churchill only in when his dissolute habits had inflicted their ravages and remarked that the contrast was startling, “…as if Dorian Gray had changed places with his picture for one day of the year.”  Although infamously obnoxious, on this occasion Churchill responded with good humor, replying “Yes, it is hard to believe that was me, isn’t it?  I was a joli garçon (pretty boy) in those days.”  That may have been true for as his official photograph for the 1935 Wavertree by-election (where he stood as an “Independent Conservative” on a platform of rearmament and opposition to Indian Home Rule) suggests, the artist may have been true to his subject.  Neither portrait now photograph seems to have helped politically and his loss at Wavertree was one of several he would suffer in his attempts to be elected to the House of Commons.

Portrait of Gina Rinehart (née Hancock, b 1954) by Western Aranda artist Vincent Namatjira (b 1983), National Gallery of Australia (NGA) (left) and photograph of Gina Rinehart (right).

While some simulacrums can flatter to deceive, others are simply unflattering.  That was what Gina Rinehard (described habitually as “Australia’s richest woman”) felt about two (definitely unauthorized) portraits of which are on exhibition at the NGA.  Accordingly, she asked they be removed from view and “permanently disposed of”, presumably with the same fiery finality with which bonfires consumed portraits of Theodore Roosevelt (TR, 1858–1919; US president 1901-1909) and Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955), both works despised by their subjects.  Unfortunately for Ms Reinhart, her attempted to save the nation from having to look at what she clearly considered bad art created only what is in law known as the “Streisand effect”, named after an attempt in 2003 by the singer Barbra Streisand (b 1942) to suppress publication of a photograph showing her cliff-top residence in Malibu, taken originally to document erosion of the California coast.  All that did was generate a sudden interest in the previously obscure photograph and ensure it went viral, overnight reaching an audience of millions as it spread around the web.  Ms Reinhart’s attempt had a similar consequence: while relatively few had attended Mr Namatjira’s solo Australia in Colour exhibition at the NGA and publicity had been minimal, the interest generated by the story saw the “offending image” printed in newspapers, appear on television news bulletins (they’re still a thing with a big audience) and of course on many websites.  The “Streisand effect” is regarded as an example “reverse psychology”, the attempt to conceal something making it seem sought by those who would otherwise not have been interested or bothered to look.  People should be careful in what they wish for.

Side by side: Portraits of Barak Obama (2011) and Donald Trump (2018), both oil on canvas by Sarah A Boardman, on permanent display, Gallery of Presidents, Third Floor, Rotunda, State Capitol Building, Denver, Colorado.

In March 2025 it was reported Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) was not best pleased with a portrait of him hanging in Colorado’s State Capitol; he damned the work as “purposefully distorted” and demanded Governor Jared Polis (b 1975; governor (Democratic) of Colorado since 2019) immediately take it down.  In a post on his Truth Social platform, Mr Trump said: “Nobody likes a bad picture or painting of themselves, but the one in Colorado, in the State Capitol, put up by the Governor, along with all the other Presidents, was purposefully distorted to a level that even I, perhaps, have never seen before.  The artist also did President Obama and he looks wonderful, but the one on me is truly the worst. She must have lost her talent as she got older.  In any event, I would much prefer not having a picture than having this one, but many people from Colorado have called and written to complain. In fact, they are actually angry about it!  I am speaking on their behalf to the radical left Governor, Jared Polis, who is extremely weak on crime, in particular with respect to Tren de Aragua, which practically took over Aurora (Don’t worry, we saved it!), to take it down. Jared should be ashamed of himself!”

At the unveiling in 2019 it was well-received by the Republicans assembled.  If Fox News had an art critic (the Lord forbid), she would have approved but presumably that would now be withdrawn and denials issued it was ever conferred.  

Intriguingly, it was one of Mr Trump’s political fellow-travellers (Kevin Grantham (b 1970; state senator (Republican, Colorado) 2011-2019) who had in 2018 stated a GoFundMe page to raise the funds needed to commission the work, the US$10,000 pledged, it is claimed, within “a few hours”.  Ms Boardman’s painting mush have received the approval of the Colorado Senate Republicans because it was them who in 2019 hosted what was described as the “non-partisan unveiling event” when first the work was displayed hanging next to one of Mr Trump’s first presidential predecessor (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017), another of Ms Boardman’s commissions.  Whether or not it’s of relevance in the matter of now controversial portrait may be a matter for professional critics to ponder but on her website the artist notes she has “…always been passionate about painting portraits, being particularly intrigued by the depth and character found deeper in her subjects… believing the ultimate challenge is to capture the personality, character and soul of an individual in a two-dimensional format...”  Her preferred models “…are carefully chosen for their enigmatic personality and uniqueness...” and she admits some of her favorite subjects those “whose faces show the tracks of real life.”

Variations on a theme of simulacra: Four AI (artificial intelligence) generated images of Lindsay Lohan by Stable Diffusion.  The car depicted (centre right) is a Mercedes-Benz SL (R107, 1971-1989), identifiable as a post-1972 North American model because of the disfiguring bumper bar. 

So a simulacrum is a likeness of something which is recognizably of the subject (maybe with the odd hint) and not of necessity “good” or “bad”; just not exactly realistic.  Of course with techniques of lighting or angles, even an unaltered photograph can similarly mislead but the word is used usually of art or behavior such as “a simulacrum or pleasure” or “a ghastly simulacrum of a smile”.  In film and biography of course, the simulacrum is almost obligatory and the more controversial the subject, the more simulacral things are likely to be: anyone reading AJP Taylor’s study (1972) of the life of Lord Beaverbrook (Maxwell Aitken, 1879-1964) would be forgiven for wondering how anyone could have said a bad word about the old chap.  All that means there’s no useful antonym of simulacrum because one really isn’t needed (there's replica, duplicate etc but the sense is different) while the synonyms are many, the choice of which should be dictated by the meaning one wishes to denote and they include: dissimilarity, unlikeness, archetype, clone, counterfeit, effigy, ersatz, facsimile, forgery, image, impersonation, impression, imprint, likeness, portrait, representation, similarity, simulation, emulation, fake, faux & study.  Simulacrum remains a little unusual in that while technically it’s a neutral descriptor, it’s almost always used with a sense of the negative or positive.

Dwarf

Dwarf (pronounced dwawrf)

(1) A person of abnormally small stature owing to a pathological condition, especially one suffering from cretinism or some other disease that produces disproportion or deformation of features and limbs.  In human pathology, dwarfism is usually defined, inter-alia, as an adult height less than 1.47 m (4 ft 10 in).

(2) In zoology & botany, an animal or plant much smaller than the average of its kind or species.

(3) In European folklore, a being in the form of a small, often misshapen and ugly, man, usually having magic powers.

(4) In Norse mythology, any member of a race of beings from (especially Scandinavian and other Germanic) folklore, usually depicted as having some sort of supernatural powers and being skilled in crafting and metalworking, often as short with long beards, and sometimes as clashing with elves.

(5) In astronomy, a small version of a celestial body (planet, moon, galaxy, star etc).

(6) Of unusually small stature or size; diminutive; to become stunted or smaller.

Pre 900: From the Middle English dwerf, dwergh, dwerw & dwerȝ, from the Old English dweorh & dweorg (dwarf), replacing the Middle English dwerg and ultimately from the Proto-Germanic dwergaz.  It was cognate with the Scots dwerch, the Old High German twerg & twerc (German Zwerg), the Old Norse dvergr (Swedish dvärg), the Old Frisian dwirg (West Frisian dwerch), the Middle Low German dwerch, dwarch & twerg (German & Low German Dwarg & Dwarch) and the Middle Dutch dwerch & dworch (Dutch dwerg).  The Modern English noun has undergone complex phonetic changes. The form dwarf is the regular continuation of Old English dweorg, but the plural dweorgas gave rise to dwarrows and the oblique stem dweorge which led to dwery, forms sometimes found as the nominative singular in Middle English texts and in English dialects.  Dwarf is a noun and verb, dwarfness & dwarfishness are nouns, dwarfish & dwarflike are adjectives and dwarfishly is an adverb.  The plural forms are dwarves and dwarfs.  Dwarfs was long the common plural in English but after JRR Tolkien (1892-1973) used dwarves, his influence was enough to become the standard plural form for mythological beings.  For purposes non-mythological, dwarfs remains the preferred form.

The M Word

1972 MG Midget (RWA) in British Racing Green (BRG).

Dwarf seems still to be an acceptable term to describe those with dwarfism and Little People of America (LPA), the world’s oldest and largest dwarfism support organization (which maintains an international, membership-based organization for people with dwarfism and their families) has long campaigned to abolish the use of the word “midget” in the context of short humans.  The objection to midget is associative.  It was never part of the language of medicine and it was never adopted as official term to identify people with dwarfism, but was used to label used those of short stature who were on public display for curiosity and sport, most notoriously in the so-called “freak shows”.  Calling people “midgets” is thus regarded as derogatory.  Midget remains an apparently acceptable word to use in a historic context (midget submarine, MG Midget et al) or to describe machinery (midget car racing; the Midget Mustang aerobatic sports airplane) but no new adoptions have been registered in recent years.  The LPA is also reporting some supportive gestures, noting with approval the decision of the Agricultural Marketing Service (AMS) of the US Department of Agriculture’s (USDA) to revise the nomenclature used in the US standards for grades of processed raisins by removing five references to the term “midget”.  Although obviously a historically benign use of the word, its removal was a welcome display of cultural sensitivity.

An interesting outlier however is midget wrestling, a field in which the participants are said enthusiastically to support the label, citing its long traditions and the marketing value of the brand.  Although in the late twentieth century, midget wrestling’s popularity diminished in the last decade there’s be a resurgence of interest and the sport is now a noted content provider for the streaming platforms which run live and recorded footage.  Since the 1970s, midget wrestling has included styles other than the purely technical form with routines extending from choreographed parody and slapstick performances to simulated sexual assault.  These innovations have attracted criticism and the suggesting it’s a return to the freak shows of earlier centuries but audiences in the target demographic seem appreciative and, noting the success of a number of tours and operators, Major League Wrestling in 2022 announced the creation of a midget division.

The MG Midget

Where it began: 1930 MG M-Type Midget Roadster.

The earliest cars to wear MG badge (the name originally “Morris Garages”, an operation which had the same relationship to Morris as AMG does to Mercedes-Benz (ie high-performance variants)) were tuned (and often re-bodied) editions of existing Morris models but in 1928 the 8/33 M.G Midget Sports Series M (truncated usually to “M Type” was displayed at the 1928 London Olympia Motor, series production commencing the next season.  The first of a long line of tiny roadsters, 3,232 would be made between 1929-1932 and the one in the photographs above is fitted with coachwork typical of the era: an open two-seater in the fashionable “boat-tail” style, constructed by Carbodies of Coventry using construction technique which began in aviation, the panels a mix of steel and fabric-covered plywood over an ash frame.  The fabric soft-top was stored under the rear deck along its frame, tools and a spare wheel.  In the spirit of the age, a rakish two-piece windshield was fitted and there was no provision for a heater.  Despite the minimalist accommodation, the engine was surprisingly advanced, the four-cylinder engine using a bevel-gear-driven single overhead cam turning off the vertically mounted generator, 27 horsepower at a then impressive 5400 rpm generated from a displacement of 847 cm3 (51.68 cubic inches).  A footnote in the Midget’s history is that the first exported to the US was in 1930 bought by Edsel Ford (1893–1943; president of the Ford Motor Company (FoMoCo) 1919–1943), then titular head of his father’s (Henry Ford (1863-1947)) eponymous Motor company which, by the million, built larger vehicles.

1960 Austin-Healey Sprite Mark I (top left), 1966 MG Midget Mark II (top right), 1973 MG Midget Mark III (RWA, bottom left) and 1979 MG Midget Mark IV (bottom right).

For a new generation (1961-1979) of diminutive roadsters, MG revived the Midget name last used on the M-Type. MG was by the 1950s part of British Motor Corporation (BMC (1952-1967) which later would be absorbed by the doomed British Leyland (1968–1990)) and a corporate companion marquee was Austin-Healey which between 1958-1961 produced the Sprite (known variously as the “bugeye” or “frogeye”), a small sports car, built on the familiar template of economy car underpinnings with a stylish body.  After the release of the MGA (1955-1962), MG no longer had a competitor in the low-price segment so BMC took the decision that the two companies would share the model, yet another example of the “badge engineering” which BMC pragmatically (and for a while lucratively) would exploit until the process descended into self-defeating absurdity.  When the Mark II Sprites were released in 1961 (without the distinctive headlights which were the source of the nicknames), simultaneously there was the debut of the Midget, the latter slightly more expensive and better equipped, although both remained basic roadsters in the old tradition, lacking fittings such as side windows and external door-handles.  The Sprite would continue in three versions (Mark II; 1961-1964, Mark III; 1964-1966, Mark IV 1966-1971) before, following the end of BMC’s contractual arrangement with Donald Healey (1898–1988), briefly it was sold as the Austin Sprite (1971-1972) before the name was retired and the segment was left to MG.  In the decade they’d been companion models, the pair significantly had been improved, gaining power, refinement and creature comforts (the overdue door handles and side windows part of the Mark II upgrades) but what never changed were the dimensions, the things always small, something the balanced styling tended to disguise, the compactness best appreciated when one was seen parked next to a more typically sized vehicle; the Sprite and Midget being dwarfed.

Almost 130,000 Sprites were built while Midget production (which lasted until 1980) totalled some 225,000, the most numerous being the later models (Mk III; 1966–1974: 100,246 units & 1500; 1974–1979: 81,916 units).  A decade before production ended it was already outdated but such was the charm (and lack of competition) that demand remained strong almost to the end.  The most fancied Midgets are the so-called RWA (round wheel arch) models produced between 1972-1974; these adopted the design used on the rear of the bugeyes and are considered the best looking (as well as making the use of wider rear tyres easier) but in 1974 MG had to revert to the squared-off look because the strength gain from the additional metal was necessary to support the large “rubber” bumpers added to conform with US regulations; the RWA bodywork was found to be prone to damage when the rear-impact tests were conducted.  Even before the huge bumpers unhappily had been grafted, US market cars had for some months had large rubber “buffers” bolted to the chrome bumpers, known in the US as “Dagmars” and in the UK as “Sabrinas” both names tributes to the hardly vague anatomical similarity with the two pop culture figures.  Along with the big bumpers, to comply with minimum headlight height regulations in the US, the suspension height was raised by about an inch (25 mm), something which raised the centre of gravity and thus affected the handling characteristics, something adjustments to the anti-roll bars only partially ameliorated.  Visually, the increased height was disguised by lowering curve of the front wheel arch.

Triumph Spitfire, also a midget-sized roadster

A midget (with a small “m”) dwarfed by two behemoths: A 1977 Triumph Spitfire between two Ford Super Duty F-450s heavy pick-up trucks.  At their intended purpose (carrying or towing heavy payloads) Ford’s Super Duty heavy pick-up trucks perform well but such is the consumer appeal they’re a not uncommon sight used as passenger vehicles, even in cities; they can thus be both a personal and political statement, owners delighted Ford has made pick-ups great again (MPUGA).

Adopted for the range in 1999, Ford between 1958-1981 had previously used the “Super Duty” label on three large displacement (401, 477 & 534 cubic inch (6.6, 7.8 & 8.8 litre) gas (petrol) V8s, the family one of a remarkable variety of different V8s the corporation produced during the 1950s & 1960s.  Big, heavy and low-revving, the Super Duty V8 were legendarily robust and famed for their longevity but were doomed ultimately by their prodigious thirst.  They were intended only for heavy-duty, industrial use and in that very different from the Pontiac Super Duty (SD) V8s which were high-performance units, the early versions in the 1960s optimized for drag racing while the revival the next decade was the final fling of the original muscle car era (1964-1974).  The 389 & 421 cubic inch (6.4 & 6.9 litre) versions were offered between 1960-1963 while the 455 (7.5) appeared in 1973-1974 and had it not been for the 455 SD Pontiac Firebirds in those years, the muscle car era would have been regarded as having ended in 1972.  The Watergate-era 455 SD is also a footnote in the history of environmental law because Pontiac (in a preview of Volkswagen’s later “Dieselgate”) used a device to “cheat” on emission testing being undertaken as part of the certification process.  Caught re-handed, Pontiac, guilty as sin, was compelled to remove the “cheat gear” and re-submit a vehicle for testing; that’s the reason the 1973-1974 455 SD was rated at 290 horsepower (HP) rather than the 310 of the original (and more toxic) engine.

1967 Triumph Spitfire Mark II (left) and 1972 Triumph Spitfire Mark IV (with after-market exhaust tips, right).

The Triumph Spitfire had the same relationship to the larger TR sports cars (1952-1976) as the Midget did to the MGB.  Produced in five distinct generations between 1962-1980, like the Sprite & Midget, the Spitfire featured a stylish body atop the platform of a high-volume model and for the coachwork Triumph out-sourced the job to Italy, Giovanni Michelotti (1921–1980) producing a shape which owed nothing to the little Herald (1959-1971) on which it was based.  In continuous production in five versions (Mark I; 1962–1964, Mark II; 1965–1967, Mark III; 1967–1970, Mark IV; 1970–1974 & 1500; 1974–1980), almost 315,000 were built with the later models the most popular, the some 96,000 of the 1500s sold.  Like the Midget, the Spitfire was over the years improved although the things did at least stagnate in the post-1974 US models which became heavier, slower and uglier although in the 1970s that was a general industry trend.  The Although soon under the same corporate umbrella, the Midget & Spitfire were competitors (in the showroom and on the circuits) for almost two decades and when Road & Track magazine in their September 1967 edition published a comparison test, they couldn't decide which was best, concluding: "...whichever one the buyer chooses, he is assured of many miles of motoring pleasure in the great sports car tradition.  They're good cars, both of them.  You can't go wrong."  For the readers that may not have been a great deal of help and the phrasing must have been force of habit because the two little roadsters had always enjoyed some popularity among women.  

The photograph run in 1959 with the caption “Hark the Herald’s axle’s swing” (left) and a Mark I Spitfire's swing axles displaying the same behavior.

The Spitfires of the 1960s were a bit more lively but that description wasn’t always a compliment because, based on the Herald, what was inherited was the swing-axle rear suspension and swing the axles certainly could, leading to a “lively rear”.  When the British motoring press first tested the Herald they noted the behaviour of the swing axles under extreme load and had a photographer appropriately positioned: The caption “Hark the Herald’s axle’s swing” became famous.  None of that deterred Triumph which in 1962 introduced a more powerful version powered by a 1.6 litre (97 cubic inch) straight six.  That meant a faster car which meant the behaviour of the swing axles could be experienced at a higher speed (with all that implies) but the car sold well which was encouraging so Triumph in 1966 fitted a 2.0 litre (122 cubic inch) six.  It was not until 1968 the rear suspension was revised and this curative solved the errant characteristics to a degree which impressed even the usually sceptical motoring journalists and sales remained strong until production ended in 1971.  Offered only in four-cylinder form, the revisions to the Spitfire’s rear suspension were less complex but when tested on the Mark IV in 1970, the improvement was apparent and from this point, criticism ceased of of road-holding at the limit.

1967 Triumph GT6 Mark I (also with after-market exhaust tips, left) and 1979 Triumph Spitfire 1500 (right).  With production ending in 1973, the GT6 was spared from being disfigured by the battering-ram like bumpers imposed on the Spitfire, those on the last of the line (1979-1980) the biggest.

While the roadster never gained six-cylinder power, Triumph from 1966 offered a coupé version (with a convenient hatchback, al la the Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974) called the GT6.  Mechanically it followed the Vitesse except it was only ever fitted with the 2.0 litre engine and didn’t receive the suspension fix until the Mark II in 1969 and that transformed things although, being relatively complex it must have been deemed too expensive to justify on what proved a low-volume model and the with the release of the Mark III in 1970, a version of that used on the Spitfire was substituted and it proved just as effective.  Sales of the GT6 never matched the company’s expectation and the market preferred the MGB GT (1965-1980) which used the same concept for the body.  Noting the costs which would have been incurred to make the GT6 compliant with the US regulations to take effect from 1974, production ended in late 1973.  Because the considerably more powerful (especially the fuel-injected versions sold outside the US) 2.5 litre six Triumph used in the TR5 (TR-250 in the US), TR6, 2.5 PI & 2500 is a relatively easy swap, quite a few GT6s have been so upgraded although some attention does need to be paid to the chassis to achieve a completely satisfactory road car.  

The short stature of Victor Emmanuel III (1869–1947; King of Italy 1900-1946) with (left to right), with Aimone of Savoy, King of Croatia (Rome, 1943), with Albert I, King of the Belgians (France, 1915), with his wife, Princess Elena of Montenegro (Rome 1937) & with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), observing navy manoeuvres (Gulf of Naples, 1938).  Note his sometimes DPRKesque hats.

Technically, Victor Emmanuel didn’t fit the definition of dwarfism which sets a threshold of adult height at 4 feet 10 inches (1.47 m), the king about 2 inches (50 mm) taller (or less short) and it’s thought the inbreeding not uncommon among European royalty might have been a factor, both his parents and grandparents being first cousins.  However, although not technically a dwarf, that didn’t stop his detractors in Italy’s fascist government calling him (behind his back) il nano (the dwarf), a habit soon picked up the Nazis as der Zwerg (the dwarf) (although Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) was said to have preferred der Pygmäe (the pygmy)).  In court circles he was knows also (apparently affectionately) as la piccola sciabola (the little sabre) a nickname actually literal in origin because the royal swordsmith had to forge a ceremonial sabre with an unusually short blade for the diminutive sovereign to wear with his many military uniforms.  His French-speaking Montenegrin wife stood a statuesque six feet (1.8 m) tall and always called him mon petit roi (my little king).  It was a long and happy marriage and genetically helpful too, his son and successor (who enjoyed only a brief reign) very much taller although his was to be a tortured existence.  Still, in his unhappiness the scion stood tall and that would have been appreciated by the late Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh (1921–2021) who initially approved of the marriage of Lady Diana Spencer (1960-1997) to the Prince of Wales (b 1948) on the basis that she “would breed some height into the line”.

In cosmology, the word dwarf is applied to especially small versions of celestial bodies.  A dwarf galaxy is a small galaxy of between several hundred and several billion stars, (the Milky Way may have as many as billion) and astronomers have identified many sub-types of dwarf galaxies, based on shape and composition.  A dwarf planet is a small, planetary-mass object is in direct orbit of a star, smaller than any of the eight classical planets but still a world in its own right.  Best-known dwarf planet is now Pluto which used to be a planet proper but was in 2006 unfortunately down-graded by the humorless types at the International Astronomical Union (IAU) who are in charge of such things.  It’s hoped one day this decision will be reversed so Pluto will again be classified a planet.  Dwarf planets are of interest to planetary geologists because despite their size, they may be geologically active bodies.  The term dwarf star was coined when it was realized the reddest stars could be classified as brighter or dimmer than our sun and they were created the categories “giant star” (brighter) and dwarf star (dimmer).  As observational astronomy improved, the

With the development of infrared astronomy there were refinements to the model to include (1) the dwarf star (the “generic” main-sequence star), (2) the red dwarf (low-mass main-sequence star), (3) the yellow dwarfs are (main-sequence stars with masses comparable to that of the Sun, (4) the orange dwarf (between a red dwarf and yellow/white stars), (5) the controversial blue dwarf which is a hypothesized class of very-low-mass stars that increase in temperature as they near the end of their main-sequence lifetime, (6) the white dwarf which is the remains of a dead star, composed of electron-degenerate matter and thought to be the final stage in the evolution of stars not massive enough to collapse into a neutron star or black hole, (7) the black dwarf which is theorized as a white dwarf that has cooled to the point it no longer emits visible light (it’s thought the universe is not old enough for any white dwarf to have yet cooled to black & (8) the brown dwarf, a sub-stellar object not massive enough to ever fuse hydrogen into helium, but still massive enough to fuse deuterium.

Coolest dwarf of all is (9) the ultra-cool dwarf (first defined in 1997), somewhat deceptively named for non cosmologists given the effective temperature can be as high as 2,700 K (2,430°C; 4,400°F); in space, everything is relative.  Because of their slow hydrogen fusion compared to other types of low-mass stars, their life spans are estimated at several hundred billion years, with the smallest lasting for about 12 trillion years.  As the age of the universe is thought to be only 13.8 billion years, all ultra-cool dwarf stars are relatively young and models predict that at the ends of their lives the smallest of these stars will become blue dwarfs instead of expanding into red giants.

Disney's seven dwarfs; they're now cancelled.

The events towards the conclusion of the nineteenth century German fairy tale Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs make ideal reading for young children.  Her evil step-mother has apparently killed poor Snow White so the seven disappointed dwarfs lay her body in a glass coffin.  The very next, a handsome prince happens upon the dwarfs’ house in the forest and is so captivated by her beauty he asks to take her body back to his castle.  To this the dwarfs agree but while on the journey, a slight jolt makes Snow White come to life and the prince, hopelessly in love, proposes and Snow White accepts.  Back at the palace, the prince invites to the wedding all in the land except Snow White's evil stepmother.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, even Happy looking sad.

The step-mother however crashes the wedding and discovers the beautiful Snow White is the bride.  Enraged, she again attempts murder but the prince protects her and, learning the truth from his bride, forces the step-mother to wear a pair of red-hot iron slippers and dance in them until she dies; that takes not long and once she has the decency to drop dead, the nuptials resume.  In the way things happen in fairy tales, the prince and Snow White live happily ever after.

DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion)

The condition achondroplasiaphobia describes those with a “fear of little people".  The construct is achondroplasia (the Latin a- (not) +‎ the Ancient Greek chondro- (cartilage) + the New Latin‎ -plasia (growth); the genetic disorder that causes dwarfism) + phobia (from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) from φόβος (phóbos) (fear).  The condition, at least to the extent of being clinically significant, is thought rare and like many of the especially irrational phobias is induced either by (1) a traumatic experience, (2) depictions in popular culture or (3) reasons unknown.  Achondroplasiaphobia has never appeared in the American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).  In 2006, it was reported that while dining at the Chateau Marmont hotel in Los Angeles, after noticing two people of short stature had entered the restaurant, Lindsay Lohan suffered an "anxiety attack" and hyperventilated to the extent she had to take "an anti-anxiety pill" to calm down.  To her companions she repeatedly said "I’m so scared of them!"  A spokesperson for the LPA responded by suggesting Ms Lohan should "...treat her fear the same as she would a fear of any other protected minority population.  If that fails, she might find diversity training to be useful."  Almost immediately the story appeared, it was debunked by a representative for Ms Lohan who issued a statement  saying she is not achondroplasiaphobic and not in any way scared of little people, adding "Lindsay loves all people."

Prince Charming's non-consensual kiss of Snow White on her "lips red as blood".

In February 2025, Luis Rubiales (b 1977), the former president of the Royal Spanish Football Federation was found guilty of sexual assault for kissing player Jenni Hermoso (b 1990) without her consent and was fined €10,800 so, at least in some jurisdictions, the matter of consenting to a kiss is not mere legal theory.

Among critics and industry analysts, the consensus seem to be that in late 1919 when the project was approved, for Disney to allocate a budget of US$200 million (it ended up being booked at around US$250 million) to a remake of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) probably was a good idea.  Based on the German fairy tale Sneewittchen which first appeared in print early in the nineteenth century, Disney’s 1937 production was the first animated, full-length feature film made in the US and it was both critically acclaimed and a great commercial success, becoming the highest-grossing film of 1938; adjusted for inflation, it’s success then and since has made it one of the most profitable films ever made.

The elements in its success were (1) the quality of the studio’s work, (2) advances in the technology delivering sight and sound which made the audience's experience so vivid and (3) the threads of the story which are fairy tale classics: A wicked queen, jealous of her stepdaughter’s beauty orders her murder, only to discover she’s hiding out in a cottage with seven dwarves so she poisons her with an adulterated apple, inducing a deep sleep from which she eventually is awoken by the kiss of a handsome prince.  In 1937, had the word “problematic” then been in use, it wouldn't have been applied to anything in the plot but by the early 2020s, things had changed.  In the pre Trump 2.0 era, when DEI (diversity, equity & inclusion) was compulsory, having Snow White gaining her name because her skin was as “white as snow” and the very existence of dwarfs were both definitely “problematic” so the challenge was to keep the “Snow White” in the title while changing troublesome content as required.  That's been done before and had the 2024 US presidential election elected someone (probably anyone) else, Snow White could have appeared in cinemas to lukewarm reviews but a solid box office based on 7-11 year old girls still impressed at Meghan Markle (Meghan, Duchess of Sussex; b 1981) having proved its not only in fairy tales that princes rescue middle-class girls from dreary lives.  Only Fox News would much have bothered with a condemnation.

Times have changed.  Whether it's Snow White or Sleeping Beauty, for a man (whether or not a prince) to kiss an unresponsive female, it's now usually some sort of assault.  An unresponsive female cannot grant consent.

So for Disney, the timing of events was unfortunate but the earlier race and cultural controversies which swirled around the earlier remakes of Mulan (2020) and The Little Mermaid (2023) should have been a warning.  Most jarring perhaps was the absence of “dwarfs” (in the historic sense of the word).  While Snow White is of course the protagonist, in casting terms there was only one of her and seven of them so the substitution of the heptad with “magical creatures” was always going to attract a critique of its own.  According to the studio, it consulted members of the dwarfism community (the so-called “little people”) “to avoid reinforcing stereotypes” before the re-casting but, given the production was, according to many, replete with cultural, sexist and chauvinist tropes, the cancelled dwarfs received less attention than might have been expected.  With reviewers using phrases like “exhaustingly awful reboot” and “tiresome pseudo-progressive additions”, expectations of success for Snow White have been lowered.