Japan

Japan (pronounced juh-pan)

(1) A constitutional monarchy (the sovereign still styled as an emperor although the empire was dissolved in 1945) on an archipelago of islands off the east coast of Asia.  It's known also as Nihon or Nippon (initial upper case)

(2) As Sea of Japan, the part of the Pacific Ocean between Japan and mainland Asia (initial upper case).

(3) Any of various hard, durable, black varnishes, originally from Japan and used for coating wood, metal, or other surfaces; work varnished and figured in the Japanese manner; the liquid used for this purpose and within the class lacquerware.

(4) As Japans, a variety of decorative motifs or patterns derived from Asian sources, used on English porcelain of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (initial upper case).

(5) Of or relating to Japan, Japans or japanning.

1570s: From the Portuguese Japão, acquired in Malacca from Malay (Austronesian) Japang & Jepang, from Chinese jih pun (literally "sunrise" and equivalent to the Japanese Nippon), the construct being jih (sun) + pun (origin).  The connection to “sunrise” is in Japan lying to the east of China and the sun rising in the east.  The earliest forms in Europe were Marco Polo's Chipangu & Cipangu, variants of some form of synonymous Sinitic (日本國) (nation of Japan).  The verb japan (to coat with lacquer or varnish in the manner of Japanese lacquer-work) dates from the 1680s and immediately begat the noun japanning and the verb and adjective japanned.  The noun japonaiserie (art objects made in the Japanese style) was borrowed in 1896 from the French, which came to be described as japonism (an influence of Japanese art and culture on European art and design).  Although the lacquers used weren't exclusively black, it was the most widely-used finish and in the West "japanned" took on the slang sense of "ordained into the priesthood".  Japan (used with initial capital) is a proper noun, japan is a noun & verb, japannery, japanware & japanner are nouns, japanning is a noun & verb, japanned & Japanize are verbs and Japanesque, Japanesey, Japanesish & Japanish are adjectives; the noun plural is japans.  

In botany, the noun japonica was a species name from the New Latin and described a number of plants originally native to Japan, notably a species of camellia (Camellia japonica) and a sub-species of the rice Oryza sativa.  The Latin form was a feminine of japonicus (Japanese, of Japan), from Japon, a variant of Japan with a vowel closer to the Japanese name.  The adjective Japanese (Iapones) was known in the 1580s and by circa 1600 was a noun, the meaning extending to "the Japanese language" by 1828.  The remarkably destructive Japanese beetle was documented in 1919, the species accidentally introduced to the US in larval stage in a shipment of Japanese iris unloaded in the port of Los Angeles in 1916.  Japlish (unidiomatic English in Japan) dates from 1960s and describes the often ad-hoc linguistic code-switching on the model of Spanglish.

English Queen Anne japanned writing bureau desk with claw & ball feet, circa 1793.

The sense of the process of “costing with lacquer or varnish" in the manner of Japanese lacquer-work, is from the 1680s, the derived forms being japanned & japanning, hence also the French creation of japonaiserie (1896), adopted also, japanned furniture being almost always black, in the slang sense of "ordained into the priesthood".  The association in Europe of black being the color of the the garb of the lower orders of Roman Catholic clergy wasn’t universal but sufficiently prevalent for it to be the general motif in the depiction of the breed.  Adolf Hitler, a lapsed Catholic who extended the Church a grudging admiration as an institution which had lasted two-thousand odd years and still exerted a pull over many aspects of people's lives with which the Nazi Party couldn’t compete, called priests “those black crows”, adding “I know them very well” 

French Louis XVI japanned & ormolu Sevres porcelain writing desk, circa 1860.

The adjective Japanesque is attested from 1853.  It developed on both sides of the Atlantic to refer both to the aesthetic inspired by Japanese influence and (a little superfluously) original items from Japan.  The greater awareness after 1853 followed US Navy Commodore Matthew Perry (1794–1858) sailing that year to Japan to secure the opening to American trade, by negotiation if possible and through gunboat diplomacy if not.  The aim of US policy was to end the 250-odd years of national seclusion by Japan; without access to Japan and its markets, the US penetration into east-Asia really wasn’t possible.  The motives of the US were a mixture of commercial hunger and the missionary instincts of those anxious to bring (ie impose) the influences of Christianity and the western way of life; since 1853, that project has played-out with ups and downs for both sides.  The notion of the Japanesque was applied to a variety of objects including ceramics, lace, painting, carving and metalwork and was not of necessity associated with the lacquering process.  Japanese was noted as an adjective in the 1580s though may have been used earlier, in parallel with “Japan”.  As a noun, the first use seems to have been in 1828 in the context of “the Japanese language”.  Japlish, the noun meaning “unidiomatic English in Japan" was first noted in 1960 reflecting (1) the intrusion of US English words and phrases into the language proper and (2) a hybridised form of the language combining both although, despite the post-war years of US occupation, the English influence on Japanese was less than on many languages.  One obscure curiosity from 1819 was camellia, a Modern Latin feminised variant of japonicus (Japanese, of Japan), from Japon, a variant of Japan with a vowel closer to the Japanese name.

Lindsay Lohan, Japanese-edition magazine covers.

Giapan was first attested in English in Richard Willes's The History of Travayle in the West and East Indies (1577) in which was mentioned a translation of a letter written in 1565 which spoke of the “Ilande of Giapan”.  Like the modern Japan, Japonia was derived from the Portuguese Japão, from the Malay Jepang, from the Sinitic (日本), probably from an earlier stage of the modern Cantonese 日本 (Jat6-bun2) or Min Nan (日本) (Ji̍t-pún), from the Middle Chinese 日本 (Nyit-pwón, literally “origin of the sun”).  Related were the Mandarin 日本 (Rìběn), the Japanese 日本 (Nippon, Nihon), the Korean 일본 (Ilbon) and the Vietnamese Nhật Bản.

These notes are very much an Eurocentric scratch of the etymological surface. Japan is the exonym (an external name for a place, people or language used by foreigners instead of the native-language version) familiar to most and exonyms are not uncommon but the history of the names used to describe the construct of Japan is longer and with more forks than most.  Indeed, even within Japan, the debate about the use of Nippon, Nihon and Japan is multi-faceted and tied to influences social, political and historical, the arguments sometimes part of debates about the role of nationalism.

JAL Logo.

Japan has two airlines operating on both domestic and international routes and while that's hardly unusual, word nerds might be tempted to wonder if there’s any cultural or political significance in one being called ANA (All Nippon Airways) and one JAL (Japan Airlines).  JAL was created in 1951 as one of the state-backed national enterprises the Japanese government formed as part of the project of “kick-starting” the economy in the post-war years.  In a sense it was something like what would now be called a PPP (public-private partnership) but in 1953 JAL was wholly nationalized, becoming a “national carrier” on the model many countries in the era used for their “flag carrier” airlines.  Commencing operations in 1953 after having been founded as a private company the previous year, ANA traded initially as JHA (Japan Helicopter and Aeroplane) before in 1958 adopting the name ANA.  In the way things were then done (witness the cozy domestic duopoly the Australian government maintained between TAA (Trans-Australian Airlines) and Ansett), for decades the Japanese government effectively divided the market with JAL flying most international routes while ANA focused on domestic services, a historical division that to this day still colors perceptions of their nature.

ANA logo.

It appears dubious the choice of “Japan” and “Nippon” in the names of airlines had any significance beyond the usual processes with which brand names are chosen although, drawing a long bow, one can see why such a theory might have emerged.  “Japan” was the English exonym (the name for the country in international English) and JAL was the predominant international carrier so, it could be concluded, because “Japan Airlines” internationally was legible, JAL was “outward-facing”.  “Nippon” (日本, Nippon or Nihon) was the native Japanese name (literally “origin of the sun” or “sun source”), thus the popular use “Land of the Rising Sun.”  Still drawing on the bow, because ANA’s Japanese name was Zen Nippon Kūyu (全日本空輸) (literally “All Nippon Air Transport”), that could be interpreted as ANA being rooted in domestic culture and thus more explicitly Japanese in identity.

1961 Jaguar Mark 2 3.8.

The truth unfortunately seems be more prosaic.  According to the company history (publication of such things a Japanese tradition), the suggestion to use “All Japan Airways” had reached the JHA board but, understandably, it was judged too similar to “Japan Airlines” so “All Nippon Airways” was instead adopted.  Such an origin story is not unknown in commerce.  In the UK, when Jaguar introduced the Mark VII (1950-1956), it replaced the Mark V (1948-1951), there being no Mark VI because the company wanted to avoid marketplace confusion with the then current Bentley Mark VI (1946-1952).  As an aside, Jaguar’s use of “Mark this and that” was a tangled business.  The Mark IV was named thus only after the release of the Mark V; prior to that the range (1936-1940 by SS Cars (from the original Standard Swallow)) & 1945-1949 (as Jaguar)) had been badged and marketed as the 1½ litre, 2½ litre & 3½ litre.  There was never a Mark I, II or III and whether the company ever contemplated retrospectively applying the designations to earlier iterations seems not documented.  Anyway, it never was done but Jaguar wasn’t done with Marks.  Their smaller saloon was sold between 1955-1959 and named “2.4” & “3.8” (the larger engine introduced in 1957) but when this model was revised for a 1959 release, it was designated Mark 2 (the Roman numerals never used) and, in one form or another, these were sold until 1969.  Because that car had been dubbed “Mark 2”), the original 2.4 & 3.4 came to be styled “Mark 1” but although widely used, this was never adopted by the factory.  Concurrent with all that, the Mark VII was updated as the Mark VIII (1956-1958) & Mark IX (1958-1961) before being replaced by the radically different Mark X (1961-1966).  In 1966, Jaguar gave up, use of “Mark” abandoned with the revised Mark X becoming the 420G (1966-1970).  Beginning in 1968, subsequent model revisions were denoted by “Series” (S1, S2 etc) rather then “Mark”.

2005-2009 second-generation Mitsuoka Viewt.

The second generation Viewt was based on the Nissan Micra/March K12 platform.  In production since 1993, the Viewt is Mitsuoka's take on the Jaguar Mark 2 and is probably the best known of the company's many “retro re-imaginings” of JDM (Japanese domestic market) vehicles.  Other Mitsuoka have (loosely) be based on British machines from the 1950s & 1960s by Bentley and Vanden Plas but there are also been ventures referencing Japanese models and cars from the US including the Dodge Challenger and Chevrolet's Blazer & Corvette. 

There seems no historic or sociological significance to the use of either “Mark or “Series”, both terms remaining widely used by the car industry but use of “Nippon” seems more nuanced.  In Japanese use, Nihon is said to be the more common everyday pronunciation while Nippon is heard more in ceremonial or institutional use, the latter frequently applied to national sports teams, stamps, banknotes and corporations (Nippon Steel, Nippon Denso, NTT (Nippon Telegraph and Telephone) etc.  According to surveys of passengers (a very well studied cohort), both ANA and JAL are rated among the world’s best airlines for comfort, service, food, reliability and such with the former said to be “slightly more understated, meticulous with an “obviously” “Japanese” service culture” while JAL, although still “distinctively Japanese”, is closer in its in-flight practices to international conventions.  As a final, minor linguistic note, native Japanese tend not to refer to the airlines as JAL or ANA in their English pronunciation, but by abbreviations derived from the Japanese names: JAL Nikkō (日航) & ANA Zennikkū (全日空).

On the tarmac.

In 2021 the Japanese government tried to nudge JAL & ANA to merge, citing the difficulties the airlines were enduring as a consequence of the COVID-19 pandemic.  In truth, the economic rationalists in the Japanese Treasury had for some time wished the two would combine operations and the virus was just convenient cover.  What the bureaucrats knew was it was only a matter of time before there would be a crisis in the industry which would be cured in the way which has become a tradition in modern Japan: The government would give the airlines money.  By mid 2026, Japan’s national debt had reached some US$10 trillion which is around 235% of GDP (Gross Domestic Product), the highest ratio among developed nations.  That sounds a serious problem but the argument is Japan is a “special case” because some 88% of the debt is denominated in Yen, the Bank of Japan holding nearly half.  Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen but thus far, it remains business as usual.  By contrast the US national debt stands at US$38 trillion-odd (in excess of 124% of GDP (gross domestic product), compared with the 113% reached in 1946 after borrowing to fund much of the allied effort in World War II (1939-1945)) and despite predictions in the past there may be “psychological thresholds” (US$10 trillion, US$20 trillion etc), things continued and it may be a debt number of US$50 or US$100 trillion attracts a similar reaction.  There was a time when a US$38 trillion national debt would have been thought at least a “problem” and probably a “crisis” but now it seems accepted as the “new normal” and as well as the US, the whole world economy now depends on this method of operation, the rationale apparently that, if need be, the US Treasury could mint a single US$40 trillion coin and declare a “net debt-free” status.  Economists seem divided on the implications of such a minting but the lawyers are at one in declaring it constitutional so, there too the “borrow & spend” model remains business as usual.

Vapid

Vapid (pronounced vap-id)

(1) Lacking or having lost life, sharpness, or flavor; insipid; flat.

(2) Without liveliness or spirit; dull or tedious; flavorless, spiritless, unanimated, tiresome, prosaic.

(3) Something (physical or conceptual) which appears to offer nothing stimulating or challenging.

1650s:  From the Latin vapidus (literally “that has exhaled its vapor”) and related to vappa (stale wine).  The word was used in Latin to describe anything the taste of which was thought bland, flat or insipid.  Dating from 1721, the noun vapidity is is more frequent use than the companion vapidness while the application to talk, text, music and such thought dull and lifeless dates from 1758.  The Latin vappa (wine without flavor) is still used figuratively in many languages (sometimes as "bit of a vapp") to refer to a man who is "a good-for-nothing" or a bit foppish.  In English public (ie private) schools where Latin was taught, of the meals served, the pupils would use the Latin vapidum (nominative neuter singular of vapidus in the sense of "food or drink that has lost its freshness".  In the context of political or corporate statements with an obvious or depressing vapidity, two fine words or descriptions are flummery & pabulum.  Vapid is an adjective, vapidity & vapidness are nouns, and vapidly is an adverb; the noun plural is plural vapidities.

The Koryo Burger

A Koryo Burger in packaging with complimentary napkin.

It’s estimated that prior to the Covid-19 pandemic, some 5,000 Western tourists annually would visit the DPRK (Democratic People’s Republic of Korea; North Korea), a trade it was hoped might quickly recover given it wasn't until early 2022 nation's first outbreak was confirmed.  For the a country ti have for so long remained virus-free was said to be (yet another) example of Kim Jong-Un's (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK since 2011) outstanding administration of the public health system, the outbreak the fault of corrupt or lazy officials who would have been dealt with in the DPRK's efficient way.  By May 2026, most people on Earth probably assumed Covid-19 had become just another tiresome background risk like the annual influenza season (which in a bad year, globally, can kill over half a million) but the DPRK remains closed to most international tourists, Pyongyang having no more desire to expose its happy and grateful population to foreign ideas than it had to welcoming foreign diseases.  Visas are still granted to some lucky souls from the PRC (People's Republic of China) but the only structured tours still conducted by Koryo Tours are those arranged for approved visitors from Russia.  That concession is believed connected to the "special relationship" the Supreme Leader seems to have established with Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999), the once-strained ties greatly strengthened by the DPRK's helpful generosity in supplying to the Kremlin men & materiel for the special military operation (ie the invasion of Ukraine which in Russia it's unlawful to call a war).

Koryo Burger & Haitai Juice combo.

So, when others will be able to delight in a DPRK holiday isn't known but one thing prospective tourists hungrily can anticipate is the national airline’s in-flight meal.  Although Air Koryo serves only the infamously vapid Koryo Burger, it is legendarily consistent, always cold and presented on a paper doily.  Inside the bun is a patty of unidentified processed meat, a slice of processed cheese and a dash of shredded cabbage or single lettuce leaf, finished with a dollop of sauce described variously as “reddish” or “brownish”.  Some sources, claiming to have received confirmation from the airline, suggest the meat is chicken but speculation on various platforms has long pondered the matter because it seems impossible to tell from the taste (there isn't any) or texture (said to be equally indeterminate).  Until some daring amateur spy smuggles a fragment back for analysis, speculation will continue.  Packaged chilled fruit juices are available with the Air Koryo in-flight meal including Haitai’s 배즙 (pear juice), made with “real crushed pear pulp”.  Because the Supreme Leader promotes the importance of monitoring one’s calorie intake (to avoid weight gain), all processed foods in the DPRK must include a NIP (Nutrition Information Panel): Haitai’s pear juice is indicated to have an energy content of 168 kJ per 100 ml and a sugar content of 10%.  

The Koryo Burger expanded; note the paper doily.  This is the "shredded cabbage edition" which appears to include both red and green cabbage.

Air Koryo did in the past dabble with other culinary offerings.  Some years ago, for several months, for reasons unknown, on certain inbound flights, full meals appeared including curried rice and side dishes; also served was a sort of sandwich, wrapped in a Danish pastry but neither gastronomic innovation long lasted and in recent years it's been the signature burgers all the way, the airline clearly having decided to "stick to the classics".  That decision may have been in response to public demand given the cult-following the Koryo Burger has attracted, #koryoburger a must-visit tag for any foodie.  Surely not as repugnant as some have alleged, the many reviews of the experience of eating one seem to struggle to find words adequately to convey blandness rather than awfulness although, apart from the plastic packaging which seems to be of a good standard, few aspects of the burger often escape at least mild criticism, the buns said always to be stale (either through age, incorrect storage or some flaw in the manufacturing process), the meat patty vapid to the point where it’s been suggested the admired wrapping may be more tasty, the lettuce or cabbage usually limp and the smell of the sauce hinting at some association with wood-working glue although one reviewer mentioned their relief at finding a thin liquid which oozed from the patty was "too watery to be blood" so there was that.  Most however did concede the slice of processed cheese was much the same as "plastic cheese" anywhere on the planet.  Koryo burgers are served chilled, apparently straight from the fridge and it may be this that accounts for much of the expressed distaste; were they served at the temperature at which burgers typically are eaten, it’s not impossible the Koryo Burger would taste more like similar offerings anywhere.

The Koryo Burger surprise.  Until examined, a passenger doesn't know whether their burger will contain shredded cabbage or a lettuce leaf.

The review site Skytrax for years rated Air Koryo among the world’s worst airlines but things must have improved because in recent ratings the operation has received an unexceptional but solid 6 / 10.  Trip Advisor's reviewers seem broadly to concur, the site's aggregated rating a respectable 3½ / 5 which, statistically, is not significantly different from Skytrax's findings although one entry did note: "They did serve their notorious burgers on board but I didn’t try it."  The more recent passenger reviews Skytrax publishes haven't especially condemned the Koryo Burger; although most won't go much beyond conceding it's "acceptable", at least one happy diner declared it "tasty" which may be generous but who knows, maybe they were lucky enough to get a particularly good one.  For many reasons, in-flight catering is a challenging business with even air pressure affecting the way people perceive taste so expectations have to be reasonable.  In the same way it's a good stay if one can check out of a hotel without having been robbed, poisoned or murdered by the Freemasons, if one's plane safely lands and one survives, even if the food served would not have contented an epicurean, that's a good flight.  Customer reviews of Air Koryo are not wholly negative, some claiming in certain aspects the operation is superior to carriers in other places.

Not a favourite among mainstream critics: If “vapid” has attracted an adverb, it’s a warning the reviewer really disliked a film.  Upon release, The Canyons (2013) was not well-received but, like I Know Who Killed Me (2007), it picked up a cult following and has been reassessed, seemingly now better understood in its historic context.  While not a landmark piece of cinema, The Canyons was a document of its time and, in the years since, has been shown at festivals of the underground & alternative as well as midnight screenings.  The consensus at the time of release was that in a flawed film, Lindsay Lohan's performance was the most interesting part.  

The vegetarian option.

What can't be denied is there have been gastronomic advances in the DPRK’s skies.  While in the days of the Great Leader and Dear Leader, the only choice usually was to (1) eat burger or (2) not eat burger (although it's not impossible eating burger may have been compulsory for DPRK citizens on the flight), in the new age of the Supreme Leader there's now a vegetarian option, which is the familiar Koryo Burger but with sliced cherry tomatoes in place of the meat patty.  Few have commented on the Koryo Veggie Burger but one reviewer praised the fruit, saying they tasted better than those from Western shops which were firm, plump and shiny but lacked flavor.  That is a common complaint, many longing for the quality of acidity remembered in tomatoes of yore.

Air Koryo quality control.

The Supreme Leader is the DPRK's most celebrated gastronome and every morning, promptly at 04:30, he arrives at Pyongyang Sunan International Airport's (TripAdvisor rating 5 / 5, rather better than some given to the Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport in Little Rock, Arkansas) catering department, personally to select the buns to be used for that day's Koryo Burgers.  "The buns Kim Jong-un rejects" are fed to political prisoners who are most grateful to the Supreme Leader for having received them, despite the heinous crimes of which they're all guilty as sin (including those convicted of "unspecified offences").  The tradition of the daily selection of buns was started by his grandfather (Kim I, the Great Leader) and carried on by his father (Kim II, the Dear Leader).  Wherever he goes, the Supreme Leader's entourage always carry notebooks and pens in case he says anything interesting.  Every word they write down. 

Hang

Hang (pronounced hang)

(1) To fasten or attach a thing so that it is supported only from above or at a point near its own top; to attach or suspend so as to allow free movement.

(2) To place in position or fasten so as to allow easy or ready movement.

(3) To put to death by suspending by the neck from a gallows, gibbet, yardarm, or the like; to suspend (oneself) by the neck until dead.

(4) To fasten to a cross; crucify.

(5) To furnish or decorate with something suspended.

(6) In fine art, to exhibit a painting or group of paintings.

(7) To attach or annex as an addition.

(8) In building, to attach (a door or the like) to its frame by means of hinges.

(9) To make an idea, form etc dependent on a situation, structure, concept, or the like, usually derived from another source.

(10) As hung jury, hung parliament etc, where deliberative body is unable to achieve a majority verdict in a vote.

(11) In informal use, to cause a nickname, epithet etc to become associated with a person

(12) In nautical use, to steady (a boat) in one place against a wind or current by thrusting a pole or the like into the bottom under the boat and allowing the wind or current to push the boat side-on against the pole.

(13) To incline downward, jut out, or lean over or forward.

(14) To linger, remain, or persist; to float or hover in the air.

(15) In informal use (to get the hang of), the precise manner of doing, using, etc, something; knack.

(16) In computing, as “to hang”, usually a synonym for “freeze”.  Nerds insist a hang refers only to a loss of control by manual input devices (mouse; keyboard etc) while the machine remains responsive to remote control whereas a freeze is a total lock-up.

(18) In chess (transitive) to cause a piece to become vulnerable to capture and (intransitive) to be vulnerable to capture.

(19) As “hang up”, to end a phone call, a use which has continued even though many phone handsets no longer physically “hang up”.

Pre 900:  A fusion of three verbs: (1) the Middle English and Old English hōn (to hang; be hanging) (transitive), cognate with the Gothic hāhan (originally haghan); (2) the Middle English hang(i)en & Old English hangian (to hang) (intransitive), cognate with the German hangen; and (3) the Middle English henge from the Old Norse hanga & hengja (suspend) (transitive), cognate with the German hängen & hangēn (to hang).  The ultimate source of all forms was the Proto-Germanic hanhaną (related to the Dutch hangen, the Low German hangen & hängen, the German hängen, the Norwegian Bokmål henge & Norwegian Nynorsk henga), root being the primitive Indo-European ḱenk- (to waver, be in suspense).  Etymologists compare the evolution with the Gothic hāhan, the Hittite gang- (to hang), the Sanskrit शङ्कते (śáṅkate) (is in doubt; hesitates), the Albanian çengë (a hook) and the Latin cunctari (to delay).  From the Latin cunctari, Modern English retains the very useful cunctator (a procrastinator; one who delays).  Hang is a noun & verb, hangman, hanger & hangee are nouns, hanging is a noun, verb & adjective, hanged is a verb & adjective; the noun plural is hangs.  In practice, while it's correct to say someone executed is “the hangee”, the usual practice is to refer to them as “the hanged” and in the case of multiple, simultaneous hangings, depending on the sentence structure it can correct to say “the hanging” or “the hangings” (if referencing the event) or “the hanged" (if referring to the unfortunate individuals).

Past tense: hung and hanged

Hang has two forms for past tense and past participle, “hanged” and “hung”.  The older form hanged is now used exclusively in the sense of putting to death on the gallows by means of a lawful execution, sanctioned by the state.  Even in places where capital punishment is no longer used, it remains the correct word to use in its historical context.  There are two forms because the word “hang” came from two different verbs in Old English (with a relationship to one from Old Norse).  One of these Old English verbs was considered a regular verb and this gave rise to “hanged”; the other was irregular, and ended up as “hung”.  Hanged and hung were used interchangeably for hundreds of years but over time, hung became the more common.  Hanged retained its position when used to refer to death by hanging because it became fossilized in both statute and common law; it thus escaped the development of Modern English which tended increasingly to simplified forms.  Even the familiar phrase hung, drawn and quartered originally used “hanged”, a change reflecting popular use.  The only novel variation to emerge in recent years has been to use hanged to describe executions ordered by a state and hung when referring to suicides by hanging although this remains still a trend rather than an accepted convention of use.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) held it wasn't necessarily erroneous to use "hung" in the case of executions but in standard English it was certainly less customary although most style guides acknowledge the distinction still exists while noting the use of hung is both widespread and tolerated.  The consensus seems to be it’s best to follow the old practice but not get too hung up about it.

Portraits: hung and not hung

A tourist admiring a piece of (very) modern art, hung in the Louvre, Paris, 22 February, 2026.

Works of art being stolen from art galleries is a not uncommon crime and such acts tend now to receive wide coverage only if what was taken was worth millions, in some way interesting or the execution of the heist was especially audacious, as recently was the case in a well-planned operation at the Louvre.  However, smuggling something into a gallery to be hung is unusual and on 22 February, 2026, briefly, the Louvre gained an exhibit, a framed copy of the now famous image of a seemingly stunned Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (b 1960, formerly Prince Andrew, Duke of York, Admiral etc) slumped in the back seat of a police car after his arrest in connection with matters relating to his relationship with Jeffrey Epstein (1953–2019).  The cunning stunt was organized by the “anti-billionaire” activist group “Everyone Hates Elon” which, emulating the gallery’s protocols, placed a label beneath the hung image reading, “He’s Sweating Now — 2026” and the group later posted on-line that the display was intended as “a call for accountability”.  According to press reports, photograph and caption remained hung “for about 15 minutes” before being removed by museum staff.  Everyone Hates Elon is a UK-based collective devoted to political campaigns using the modern techniques of the social media age.  It was formed in 2025 explicitly to oppose businessman Elon Musk (b 1971), prompted by his (possibly ill-conceived) involvement in politics as an advisor to Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) although its remit quickly extend to other billionaires and such.  In any other context, Mr Mountbatten Windsor might have seen the humor in what students of Andy Warhol (1928–1987) would have labelled “15 minutes of fame from being 15 minutes in a frame” but it’s doubtful he laughed.  The “He’s Sweating Now” text was a reference to the “train-wreck” of an interview the then prince/duke/admiral etc in 2019 agreed (against professional advice) to undertake for the BBC’s Newsnight programme, one memorable assertion being his claim that for some physiological reason he was at the time “couldn’t sweat” and thus his accuser (Virginia Giuffre (1983-2025)) was lying when she said she'd seen him perspire while both were in nightclub.  More men have talked themselves into difficulties than have ever talked their way out of them.

The photograph of Mr Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, while under arrest.  Analysts of such things suggest that, aware of the photographers, he was attempting to "make himself invisible to their lens".

The instantly famous image of a seemingly stunned former prince slumped in the back seat of a police car after his arrest was snapped by Reuters staff photographer Phil Noble who gleefully admitted capturing the moment was “more luck than judgement” and a case of being “in the right place, at the right time”.  Like the “blood shot” & “bullet shot” taken by Doug Mills in Butler, Pennsylvania on 13 July 2024 when an assassin’s bullet grazed right ear of Donald Trump, had either photographer been standing even a few inches to the left or right or had pressed the button a second earlier or later, the moment would have been missed.  As Mr Noble put it: “The photo gods were on my side.  Is it the best photo I've ever taken?  No.  Is it up there with most important? 100%.”  Digital technology also did its bit, six images shot in rapid succession, two of which showed only police officers, two proved blank and one was out of focus, none of which mattered because the one that went around the work was about as perfect as a news-photo can be.  Although publications routinely use software to “edit out” the “red eye effect” (caused by a reflection from the camera’s flash), on this occasion it was left untouched, better to capture the immediacy of the moment when the former prince's thoughts may have been focused on the fate of Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649).

Hangman the game.

Both played for fun and used as an educational tool for children, Hangman is a guessing game in which letters or numbers are chosen to enable a word, name or phrase to be completed.  Originally for two or more players, one charm of the game is it demands nothing more than pencil & paper although there are now electronic versions suitable for single-user play.  In Hangman, one player draws on the paper dashes (and, if need be, spaces) which correspond with the word or phrase and the other(s) tries to guess it by suggesting letters or numbers within a certain number of guesses.  In its simplest form, six guesses are allowed, corresponding to the six body parts of the stick figure to be hanged (1 x head, 1 x torso, 2 x arms & 2 x legs) with those parts drawn on the gallows with each wrong guess.  To make it easier to solve or when long, obscure or complex text is used, other body parts (feet, hands, ears etc) and even the elements of the gallows can be added.  Perhaps surprisingly in these more sensitive times, Hangman hasn’t be cancelled and is still widely played although it's recommended by some that if used with young children, the alternative version “Snowman” might be a better choice, the rules exactly the same.

Mandy in underpants (presumably his but who knows?).  There is no suggestion Mandy engaged in inappropriate or improper conduct with this unidentified young lady.

When, particularly with younger children, Hangman is used as an educational tool, it can be helpful at certain points in the game to provide a clue and for the example above one might furnish the photograph from the Epstein files of Lord Peter “Mandy” Mandelson (b 1953) in his underpants, speaking with an unidentified woman.  The photograph was taken in the New York apartment of convicted paedophile sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein and when asked about the image, his lordship responded by saying he “did not recall” the circumstances.  Some were uncharitably cynical about that (lack of) recollection but it does seem plausible given (1) Mandy doubtless spent much time wandering Epstein’s apartment while in his underpants and (2) because Epstein had so many “acquaintances”, Mandy could hardly be expected to remember them all.

Most politicians, usually by virtue of uninterest, leave the arts to others but there are exceptions and while Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) wasn't unique among politicians in regarding himself as “an artist” he was untypical and his credentials were reasonable because in pre-World War I (1914-1918) Vienna he’d earned a modest living as a painter of the streetscapes in which there’s now a somewhat controversial trade.  Critics seem prepared to concede Hitler was a competent artist when depicting buildings and even the natural environment but all concurred with the examiners who denied him entry to art school on the basis he had not enough talent to handle the human form, a judgment some historians, political scientists and amateur psychoanalysts have over the years mapped onto his political career.  With that, even he may have agreed because the people in his paintings are almost always small, un-detailed blotches, there merely to lend scale to the buildings which were his real love but, after taking power in 1933, he didn’t let that stop him establishing himself as the Reich’s chief art critic and he’d judge portraiture as harshly as any landscape.  He certainly thought an “artistic temperament” was vital for a politician to achieve greatness, rejecting the idea of Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) succeeding him as Führer because the head of the SS was “totally unartistic” and it was Hitler’s self-identification as “an artist” which in the first decade of his rule protected many painters, sculptors and others from persecution.  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) noted that for Hitler their political views were “…a matter of supreme indifference…” because “…he regarded them one and all as politically feeble-minded.”

Speer recalled a lunch in 1938 at Munich’s Osteria Bavaria (Hitler’s favorite Italian restaurant) during which a senior Nazi functionary brought to the Führer’s attention a Communist Party proclamation (pre-dating the Nazi regime) which had been signed by a large number of artists; the apparatchik wanted all these artists banned from any government work but Speer recoded how “Hitler replied disdainfully, ‘Oh, you know I don’t take any of that seriously. We should never judge artists by their political views.  The imagination they need for their work deprives them of the ability to think in realistic terms. Artists are simple-hearted souls. Today they sign this, tomorrow that; they don’t even look to see what it is, so long as it seems to them well-meaning.’”  It was an indulgence to freedom of expression Hitler granted few others and a contrast also with what would have been the likely reaction of comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) to revelations of dissent.  Comrade Stalin’s three preferred ways of dealing with such problems were: (1) have them taken outside, put up against a wall and shot, (2) have them sent to the Lubyanka (KGB headquarters on Moscow's Lubyanka Square) to be tortured to death or (3) have them sent to the Gulag to be worked to death.

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

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 (1609-1672) to paint him “warts and all”.  The artist obliged.

Although certain about the afterlife, Cromwell was a practical politician with few illusions about life on earth.  Once, when being driven in a coach through cheering crowds, his companion remarked that his popularity with the people must be pleasing.  The lord protector replied he had no doubt they’d be cheering just as loud were he being taken to the gallows to be hanged.  Of course, to someone dead, in a practical sense it ceases much to matter whether they’d been hanged, struck by a meteorite or murdered by the Freemasons; dead is dead.  However, the method of dispatch does carry connotations and a hanging has always been thought to be the marker of punishment for some dishonourable crime whereas as to die before a firing squad, on the executioner’s block or under the blade of the guillotine can have a whiff of respectability.

Soviet cartoon: Caricature of the defendants and the anticipated Nuremberg judgment (1946) by the Soviet artists known as the Kukryniksy: Porfiry Krylov (1902-1990), Mikhail Kupriyanov (1903-1991) & Nikolai Sokolov (1903-2000).

As the trial wore on, at least two of the defendants were recorded as requesting shirts with “larger collars” and on one occasion one removed his tie, explaining it was “suddenly feeling tight”.  The famous quote “Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully” appears in volume 3 of The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. (1791) by James Boswell (1740-1795) (a biography of the English writer and literary critic Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)).

The defendants before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) trying the major Nazi war criminals at Nuremberg (1945-1945) certainly felt that, both the military men (Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel (1882–1946; head of OKW (Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, the armed forces high command)) and Colonel-General Alfred Jodl (1890–1946, chief of the OKW operations staff 1939-1945) sentenced to death petitioning the judges requesting they be shot rather than hanged; the request was denied.  Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) cheated the hangman by committing suicide shortly before he’s been due to be led to the gallows but previously had indicated he’d have accepted execution had it been by a firing squad on the basis that was “an honorable death for a soldier”; whether or not he’d any way have killed himself will never be known but his view was indicative of the way hangings are thought something for “common criminals”.  Some were more sanguine about their lives ending dangling from the hangman's, Hans Frank (1900–1946; Nazi lawyer and governor of the General Government (1939-1945) in German-occupied Poland) observing: “I expected it, I deserved it” but the most bizarre reaction to the dozen death sentences handed down came from a man who didn’t receive one.  Grand Admiral Erich Raeder (1876–1960; head of the German Navy 1928-1943) was given a life sentence and, his rationale being “better a quick death than a slow one”, requested he be shot.  On technical grounds (related to its authority to increase sentences) the IMT declined the offer and although it seems nowhere discussed, it’s assumed Raeder would have preferred to die in prison rather than undergo the indignity of being hanged.  As it was, in declining health, in 1955 he was released.

Three of the galleries at the Lindsay Lohan Retrospective by Richard Phillips (b 1962), Gagosian Gallery, 555 West 24th Street, New York, 11 September-20 October 2012.

Described by the artist as an installation, the exhibition was said to be "an example of the way Phillips uses collaborative forms of image production to reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format of these lush, large-scale works said to render them realist portraits of the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  The curator explained the retrospective was conducted as an example of the way collaborative forms of image production can reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format used to render them realist portraits of "...the place-holders of their own mediated existence."  That seemed to explain things.  Some of the images hung in the gallery come from Richard Phillips' short film Lindsay Lohan, hosted (courtesy of Richard Phillips and Gagosian Gallery) on Vimeo.

Bad Teddy and Good Theodore: Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903), oil on canvas by Théobald Chartran (left) and Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903) oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US President 1901-1909), famous also for waging small wars and shooting big game, after being impressed by Théobald Chartran’s (1849–1907) portrait of his wife (Edith, 1861-1948), invited the French artist to paint him too.  So displeased was he with the result (which he thought made him look effete), he refused to hang the work.  Later, he would have it destroyed, turning turned instead to expatriate American artist John Singer Sargent (1856–1925).  The relationship didn’t start well as the two couldn’t agree on a setting and during one heated argument, the president suddenly, hand on hip, took on a defiant air while making a point and Sargent had his pose, imploring his subject not to move.  This one delighted Roosevelt and prominently it was hung in the White House.

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 FoxNews had on staff 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 must 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.”

Portrait of Winston Churchill (1954), oil on canvas by Graham Sutherland.  Never hung, the painting was later tossed onto a bonfire to be destroyed.

Another subject turned disappointed critic was Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955).  In 1954, a committee, funded by the donation of a 1000 guineas from members of both houses of parliament, commissioned English artist Graham Sutherland (1903–1980) to paint a portrait of the prime minister to mark his 80^th birthday.  The two apparently got on well during the sittings, Churchill himself a prolific, if undistinguished, amateur painter and it’s clear he enjoyed their discussions.  He was unimpressed though with the result, telling Sutherland that while he acknowledged his technical prowess, he found the work “not suitable”.  To his doctor he was less restrained, calling it "filthy" and "malignant".  Churchill was a realist about his abilities with the brush and when comparing his works with a few of painted by one of the detectives assigned to him, admitted the policeman's were "better than mine", sympathizing with the man that celebrity was valued more than skill.  Churchill in 1948 published the slim volume Painting as a Pastime which had first appeared as a two-part essay in the December 1921 & January 1922 editions of Strand magazine respectively titled Hobbies and Painting as a Pastime (both reprinted in Pall Mall magazine in 1925).  The pieces led something of an afterlife, excerpts over the next few years appearing in several periodicals before both were included in the anthology The Hundred Best English Essays (1929).  The author himself re-cycled the content (again in the Strand’s two part format) in Thoughts and Adventures (1932) and the single volume edition in 1948 appeared apparently at the instigation of Churchill’s US publisher who had decided his post-war notoriety was sufficient to stimulate interest in works then more than a quarter-century old.

Portrait of Laurence Olivier in the role of Richard III (1955), oil on canvas by Salvador Dalí, Fundació Gala-Salvador Dalí (Gala-Salvador Dalí Foundation, Figueres, Spain).

It had been intended the painting would be hung in the House of Commons but Churchill had no intention of letting it be seen by anyone.  An unveiling ceremony had been arranged and Churchill demanded it not include the painting, relenting only when a compromise was arranged whereby both subject and artwork would appear together but rather than being hung in the Commons, it would instead be gifted to him to hang where he pleased.  Both sides appeased (if not pleased), the ceremony proceeded, Churchill making a brief speech of thanks during which he described his gift as “…a remarkable example of modern art..”, praise not even faint.  It was never hung, consigned unwrapped to the basement of the prime minister’s country house where it remained for about a year until Lady Churchill (Clementine, 1885–1977)), sharing her husband’s view of the thing, had a servant take it outside where it was tossed on a bonfire, an act of practical criticism Sutherland condemned as “vandalism”.  Not anxious to repeat the experience of his brush with modernism, Churchill declined the offer of a sitting before the Spanish surrealist Salvador Dalí (1904–1989), the result of which might have been interesting.  It's not known if Churchill ever saw Dali's interpretation of Laurence Olivier (1907-1989).

Two photographs of Winston Churchill (1941) by Yousuf Karsh.

Theodore Roosevelt’s pose is one favored by politicians but the expression adopted matters too.  The famous photograph taken in Ottawa in December 1941 by Armenian-Canadian Yousuf Karsh (1908-2002) was actually one of several but those where Churchill shows a more cheerful countenance are not remembered; they didn’t so well suit those troubled times.  The scowl, although immediately regarded as emblematic of British defiance of the Nazis, had a more prosaic origin, the photographer recalling his subject had appeared benign until it was insisted the ever-present Havana cigar be discarded lest it spoil the photograph.  That changed the mood but, the moment captured, he relented and permitted a couple more, including the now obscure ones with a smile.