Anadrome

Anadrome (pronounced an-uh-drohm)

(1) A word which forms a different word when spelled backwards.

(2) In pre-modern medical jargon, the upward path of various elements (pain, blood etc) (obsolete).

Circa 1961 (in this context): The construct was ana- +‎ -drome.  Ana was from the Ancient Greek ἀνα- (ana-), from ἀνά (aná) (backward in direction, reversed) and drome was from the Ancient Greek δρόμος (dromos) (running; racetrack); the surface analysis of anadrome thus can be understood as “going backwards”.  Confusingly however, the Greek prefix aná was appended also to convey the notion of “up, above, upward”, (2) “again”, (3) “thoroughly”, (4) “against”, (5) “distal, away from” and (6) “to grow or change in place; functionally similar”.  So, a deconstruction alone would not be definitive and the meaning is established through context.  The longest accepted anadrome in English is believed to be the pair desserts/stressed but among the dozens which exist, it is god/dog which seems most to amuse students.  The coining (or possibly a re-purposing of the earlier medical jargon) of anadrome was credited to Martin Gardner (1914–2010) who is said to have added it in a 1961 re-publication of Oddities and Curiosities of Words and Literature (1875) by Charles C. Bombaugh (1828-1906) but the word doesn't appear in at least some of the 1961 editions and at least the spike in use may better be attributed to the reclusive and eccentric Dmitri Borgmann (1927–1985) a German-American author regarded still as something of the “high priest of recreational linguistics”.  In his introduction, Mr Gardner does pay tribute to Mr Borgmann as one of the “outstanding creators of word puzzles”.  Anadrome & anadromy are nouns and anadromous & anadromic are adjectives; the noun plural is anadromes.

An young anadromous Atlantic salmon, still resident in the freshwater in which it was born.  The young salmon are called smolts after they gain a silvery hue and migrate to the ocean.

The adjectival form is used in ichthyology, the term “anadromous fish” describing those species born in freshwater rivers or streams that migrate to the ocean to mature and forage, subsequently returning to freshwater to spawn.  First appearing in scientific papers in 1753, the construct of anadromous was ana- (used here in the sense of “up, above, upward”) + dromos (a running), from dramein (to run).  Though the usual natural processes, anadromous fish have evolved with an environmental adaptation called osmoregulation which enables them seamlessly to adapt to changing salinities; that’s what makes it possible for them to live in both aquatic habitats (salt & freshwater).  The process is dynamic as it must be because while some notional freshwater species might move into a sea or ocean only for weeks, others can stay there for years because that’s where they undergo most of their growing cycle.  Remarkably, and using a mechanism not wholly understood (use of the Earth’s magnetic field an intriguing theory), after perhaps years the fish return to their exact natal streams to reproduce.  For freshwater ecosystems, the behaviour is not a mere zoological curiosity because as schools return from their time in saltwater, they bring with them marine-derived phosphorus & nitrogen, “topping up” the elements on which the health of the spawning grounds depends.  Anadromous fish are thus listed as keystone species, some salmon the best known examples.  An anadromic fish swimming to or from the ocean could be said to be proceeding anadromically but the adverb is non-standard.

A catadromous freshwater American eel, slithering out of a pipe, possibly heading back to the ocean, catadromically (again, a non standard adverb).

The companion term is “catadromous fish”, describing species born in salt water that mature in fresh water and return to the sea to spawn, certain eels the best known.  The mysterious European eel exerted a particular fascination upon the natural scientists of Antiquity, Aristotle (384-322 BC) writing the earliest known study although the findings truly were speculative, his novel idea being the creatures were born of “earth worms” which, he suggested, were formed of mud, growing from the “guts of wet soil”.  In the absence of any better theory or observational data, the notion for some time held sway and not for centuries was spontaneous generation disproven.  It wasn’t until the eighteenth century researchers perfected their techniques of dissection and confirmed eels really are fish although, while in recent years it has been possible to effect breeding of eels in captivity, because of the difficulty of replicating at scale the multi-aquatic environment needed for the life-cycle, it’s unlikely any time soon to become commercially viable.  Largely because of demand from the Far East (especially Japan) the European freshwater glass eel has become threatened with smuggling rife, the decline in availability encouraging a trade in the American eel, something which has created problems because of the involvement of transnational crime groups.

25 Franc postage stamp, issued to mark the independence of Upper Volta, 1960.

Although in a sense belonging to the discipline of structural linguistics, the word anadrome (in this context) seems in this context to have come into use (“re-invented” as it were) only in the mid twentieth century and it emerged not from academia but recreational wordplay: It was a “fun word” which migrated to reference books when editors and compliers noticed it appearing in published word games and puzzle culture.  While having no place in formal linguistic theory, it is used as a teaching aid, apparently on the basis of “training the mind to be flexible”, the model believed to be the better known “palindrome” (a word, line, verse, number, sentence, etc reading the same backward as forward), in use since the 1630s.  In logology (recreational linguistics, ie puzzles, word-games and such), there is a great satisfaction in having a coined word “succeed” in the sense of even a limited, specialized acceptance which is why the community has come up with synonyms including: (1) semordnilap (“palindromes” spelled backwards) (2) levidrome (the “Levi” element from the given name of the coiner), (3) reversgram and (4) heteropalindrome (the hetro- prefix a learned borrowing from Ancient Greek ἕτερος (héteros) (other, another, different).  There was a suggestion such words should be called a "volta" (from the Italian volta (which can be used to mean "to turn")) but the idea never caught on.

H.R. Haldeman (1926–1993; White House chief of staff 1969-1973 right) and Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) doing paperwork (ie shredding evidence) in the White House.

The word did however find a place in geopolitical history.  Flowing south into the West African nation of Ghana from the highlands of Burkina Faso, the Volta River was in the late fifteenth century named by Portuguese gold traders.  Because it was their furthest extent of exploration before returning, the name was appropriate, volta being Portuguese for “turn” or “twist”, thus the common term “river of return”.  As part of the unravelling of the French colonial empire, the République de Haute-Volta (Republic of Upper Volta) was in 1958 created as a self-governing state within the French Community; previously it had been part of the French Union in West Africa as the French Upper Volta.  Independence was granted in 1960 and in 1984 the nation's name was changed to Burkina Faso.  When president, Richard Nixon sarcastically would use “Upper Volta” as a reference to any “unimportant country”, especially if compelled by the conventions of diplomacy to spend time exchanging “pointless pleasantries” with the dignitaries in their visiting delegations.  Sometimes, when someone from the State Department displeased him (a not infrequent happening), darkly he would mutter about having them posted as “ambassador to Upper Volta”, a place Nixon thought a kind of “diplomatic Gulag”.

62¢ postage stamp issued in 2015 by Deutsche Post (The German post office, now a brand of DHL Group) to mark the 200^th anniversary of the birth of Otto von Bismarck (1815-1989; chancellor of the German Empire (the “Second Reich”) 1871-1890).

Among politicians, the phenomenon of an at least affected indifference to the affairs of countries in which no matters of national interest seem obvious is well documented.  His eyes darting east & west, Otto von Bismarck claimed he “never troubled to read the mailbag from Constantinople” although he of course at least glanced at every paper.  While the famous phrase attributed to him: “I shall not live to see the Great War, but you will see it, and it will start in the East.” is likely apocryphal, what is verified he did say: “One day the great European war will come out of some damned foolish thing in the Balkans.”  Confidently it may be asserted he read the telegrams from the embassy in Constantinople (modern day Istanbul in the Republic of Türkiye (Turkey)).  While predicting squabbles in the Balkans hardly demanded great statesmanship, his vision of a “big” European war was remarkably prescient although the chain of events which in 1914 triggered the spread of what could have been yet another localized Balkan war was a consequence of the legacy of inter-locking treaties he'd crafted, his successors less adept in their handling.  Lord Moran (Charles Wilson, 1882-1977; president of the Royal College of Physicians 1941-1949, personal physician to Winston Churchill 1940-1965) in his diary (The Struggle for Survival, 1940–1965 (1966)) on more than one occasion noted Winston Churchill’s (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) unconcern about places which had never piqued his interest.  An entry from April 1953 recorded him saying: “‘I have lived seventy-eight years without hearing of bloody places like Cambodia.’  With a whimsical look he strung out half a dozen strange-sounding names.  ‘They have never worried me, and I haven’t worried them.'”  A year on, revisiting his thoughts, when told of troubles in Central America he thought tiresome, Churchill complained: “I’d never heard of this bloody place Guatemala until I was in my seventy-ninth year.” 

Google Ngram

Google Ngram (a quantitative and not qualitative measure): Because of the way Google harvests data for their Ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, Ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts (typically a scanner might misread an “f” for a long “s” or a “u” for an “n”) of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI (artificial intelligence) should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

As Google’s Ngram attests, “anadrome” was in use in the nineteenth century, the earliest citation dating from 1840, the use a classic illustration of “lexical overlap” a phenomenon which delights word nerds (an easily delighted lot).  In the mid-late 1800s, anadrome (often written as anadromé, reflecting both the Greek roots and the backgrounds of those using the word) was a technical term seen mostly in botanical and medical publications; it was direct borrowing of the Ancient Greek anadromē (ἀναδρομή) (“an ascent”; “running up”).  Medical dictionaries in the era weren’t new but revised editions were common because advances in observational technologies and techniques meant new entries constantly were required and anadrome seems first to have been used of a variety of “physiological ascents” including (1) Ascending Pain: physical pain starting in the lower limbs or torso and migrating upward, (2) The “upward determination of blood: A rush of blood toward the head or upper body and, best of all (3) Globus Hystericus: The “lump in the throat” sensation described at the time also as the “ascent of the womb”.  While scientifically inaccurate, it was memorable and dated from the era (which lasted well into the twentieth century) when the condition “hysteria” was part of the diagnostic toolkit for physicians assessing female patients.  In botanical use, the meaning was most analogous with the idea of blood flow, botanists describing “upward sap flow” (the ascent of sap through a plant’s vascular system).  What the Ngram has in this case captured is a genuine heteronym (a word that looks the same but has a completely different meaning and subtly different lineage).

Between consenting players only: More than 11 points but don’t try insisting on it in competition or you’ll be blackballed; the Scrabble crew neither forgive nor forget.

The proliferation of synonyms of a word which is little more than a curiosity is an example of why the English language has so many words, most of which are never or rarely used.  The estimates notoriously are vague because there exists no consensus on just what is the definition of a “real word” (which sounds silly but in language there’s no concept like the “real number” in mathematics and, at the margins, disputes are legion).  If one is most accommodating of the definitional spectrum, there may in English be as many as a million words but only 15-20% are thought to be in regular or occasional use.  However, although it has appeared in many lists (often of the strange or obscure), "anadrome" has not received the imprimatur of the major sanctioning bodies setting the rules for the game of competitive Scrabble.  It never appeared in the Collins SOWPODS (an anagram of the two abbreviations OSPD (Official Scrabble Players Dictionary) & OSW (Official Scrabble Words)) or the replacement CSW (Collins Scrabble Words) and nor is it in the NASPA’s (North American Scrabble Players Association) NWL (NASPA Word List).  Quite why Collins replaced the wonderful "SOWPODS" with the dreary "CSW" remains a mystery; more than most, they would know English speakers usually will be pulled to a word with two syllables if the alternative is one of five.  The NASPA Dictionary Committee does accept submissions so anadrome advocates can pursue that course but as a non-standard form, the adverb anadromically definitely has no good prospects.  Those playing at home can of course tolerate a bit of linguistic promiscuity and, provided all players agree, if used, "anadrome" would yield a face value of 11 points (before any double/triple letter or word bonuses) but because there are not eight sequential blank squares on a standard Scrabble board, at least one letter always will attract a multiplier.  For word nerd dissidents unhappy with the dictatorial ways of Scrabble’s ruling ancien régime, there is the scrabblesque (also not a “real word”) “Anadrome the Game” in which "anadrome" is lawful and welcomed.

A brunette era Lindsay Lohan wearing Nahol dress in a black and white rose print by Masai of Copenhagen, rendered as a line drawing by Vovsoft.  The anadrome of “Lohan” is “Nahol”.

Masai describes the Nahol as “a loose, oversized, and comfortable midi-dress, characterized by a V-neck, ¾-length length sleeves, side pockets and an elasticized hem creating a slight balloon effect.”  That it has pockets may be enough of a selling point for women, many designers loath to include them in women’s clothing because any additional bulk might “spoil the line”.  Made with what the manufacturer describes as a “sustainable” (a word that has become the industry’s “new black”) mix of 15% polyamide blend & 85% viscose (said “often” to be FCS (Forest Stewardship Council) certified), the material had a “crinkled” finish in black or printed designs.  It does look comfortably accommodating and, on the move, would "swish" nicely.

Nahol as a proper noun (surname): Dalia Nahol.

While not a recognized word in English or other European languages, Nahol is a proper noun and the village of Nahol (bp) (नहोल (bp)) is in the Shimla District of Himachal Pradesh State, India.  In the anthropological record, it seems most often mentioned as used a name in PNG (Papua New Guinea) and East Africa although many of those texts were derived from oral histories so what was recorded as a phonetic “Nahol” may in some cases have been variants.  Whether there’s any link in origin between the uses in PNG & East Africa isn’t known and as a relatively simple (five letter, two syllable) form, it is likely Nahol came independently to be used as a name in more than one place.  The best documented origin is from Ethiopia where the name Naol often was transliterated as Nahol, Nawol or Naoll; it’s a masculine form from Oromo culture meaning “one who brings the peace” or “peaceful”. 

Nahol as a proper noun (surname): Isaac Amu Nahol.

There is an ancient linkage between Jewish traditions and Ethiopia but there’s no evidence the surname Nahols (most prevalent in Eastern Europe, notably among Jewish communities in Poland and Ukraine) has any connection with the Oromo culture; the similar form Nahal (or Nahaul) from the Hebrew (נחל) (nahal) meaning “stream, brook, valley” (and, by extension, “inheritance” (the idea of an estate “flowing” to the descendants)).  Nahols may have been derived from a Yiddish or Hebrew personal name (on the model of English names such as Stevenson (ie the son of Steven)).  In Arabic, the cognate root yielded Nahel & Nahil which although often understood as “generous” or “successful”, was linked also to “bees & honey”, the latter perhaps accounting for why one Bangladeshi (the old post-partition East Pakistan) source cited the name Nahol meaning “the queen of bees”.

Nova Sky: Yasdnil, Star Of (2021) by Yasdnil (Lindsay Ferraro).

The anadrome of “Lindsay” is “Yasdnil”.  As a surname, Yasdnil is astonishingly rare, the genealogy sites listing only a few dozen instances with the origin, although uncertain, thought to be Persian and from the Yazd region (in modern, Central Iran).  The name is thought drawn from Yas, a type of desert flower, thus the symbolic link of the name with beauty and nature.  Genealogists note the rarity and suspect at least some names with similar spellings may be variant forms.  In the Actinobacteriophage Database, Yasdnil is listed as an Actinobacteriophage (viruses that infect bacteria) in the phylum Actinobacteria; it was found in North Texas in 2018 “…in a soil sample that was dark, dry and had organic material (wood-chips, branches etc).”  The researcher reported the phage was named after “…an individual who was important to me, a lot of time was invested into the phage just as a lot of time was invested into that individual.  Naming the phage after them seemed appropriate as it commemorates commitment and good memories.”  It wasn’t revealed whether the inspiration was a “Yasdnil” or an anadromic “Lindsay”.  Yasdnil is also used as a pseudonym (presumably usually as an anadrome of Lindsay) and the best known may be author and advocate Lindsay Ferraro, who published the poetry collection Nova Sky: Yasdnil, Star Of (2021).  Less encouragingly, NRS (normally reliable source) Urban Dictionary has a listing for yasdnil as meaning “the Devil’s daughter”.

Weimar

Weimar (pronounced vahy-mahr, wahy-mahr, veye-mahr or weye-mahr)

(1) A city in Thuringia, in central Germany, the scene (in 1919) of the adoption of the constitution of the German state which came (retrospectively) to be known as the Weimar Republic.

(2) A German surname (of habitational origin).

(3) As Weimar Republic, the sovereign German republic (1918-1933), successor state to the German Empire (1871-1918 and now sometimes referred to as the “Second Reich”) and predecessor to the Nazi regime (the “Third Reich”, 1933-1945).  In the narrow technical sense of constitutional law, the "Weimar Republic" came into existence only in August 1919 but among historians it's common (and convenient) to date it from Kaiser Wilhelm II's (1859–1941; Emperor of Germany & King of Prussia 1888-1918) abdication in 1918.

Pre 1100: The construct was the Old High German wīh (holy; sacred) + meri (sea; lake; pond; standing water, swamp).  The name can therefore be analysed as something like “holy pond” or “sacred lake” but what religious significance this had or which aquatic feature was involved is not known.  A settlement in the area of what is now Weimar has existed since at least the early Middle Ages and there is a document dated 999 which makes reference to the town as Wimaresburg but how long this, or some related form had been in use is unknown.  Over time, the changes presumably reflected as desire for convenience and simplification (not an imperative always noted in evolution of the German language) and during the early centuries of the second millennium the place seems to have been known as Wimares, Wimari & Wimar before finally becoming Weimar.  In a manner not unusual in the Holy Roman Empire (800-1806 and for certain purposes dubbed First Reich”), it was the seat of the County of Weimar, one of the administrative and commercial centres of Thuringia but in 1062 merged with the County of Orlamünde to form Weimar-Orlamünde which existed until 1346 when the Thuringian Counts' War (a squabble between several local barons) erupted.  In the settlement which followed, Weimar was taken by the Wettin clan as an agreed fief and over time developed into a major city.  Weimar is a proper noun, Weimarization & Weimarize are nouns and Weimarian is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is Weimars.

One native to or an inhabitant of Weimar is a Weimarer (strong, genitive Weimarers, plural Weimarer, feminine Weimarerin).  The adjective Weimarian (of or relating to the Weimar period (1918-1933) in German can be used in any context but is most often applied to the art & culture associated with the era rather than politics or economics.  The comparative is “more Weimarian”, the superlative “most Weimarian”).  The noun Weimarization (a state of economic crisis leading to political upheaval and extremism) is used exclusively to describe the political and financial turmoil of the Weimar years.  The verb Weimarize (to cause to undergo Weimarization) is the companion term and is applied in much the same was as a word like “Balkanize” as a convenient word which encapsulates much in a way no other can.  The Weimaraner is a breed of dog, bred originally in the region as a hunting dog, the construct being Weimar + the German suffix -aner (denoting “of this place”).

In a constitutional sense, the Weimar Republic came into existence on 11 August 1919 when the national assembly of the German state met in the city to adopt the new Weimar Constitution.  Despite that, many historians use the label to cover the whole period between abdication on 9 November 1918 by Wilhelm II and the Nazis taking office on 30 January 1933.  The constitution created what structurally was a fairly conventional federal republic (known officially as the Deutsches Reich (German Reich)), the constituent parts of which were the historic Länder (analogous with the states in systems like the US, Canada or Australia though the details of the power sharing differed), each with their own governments, assemblies and constitutions.  Historians regards the inherent weakness of the structure as one of the factors which contributed to the political instability, economic turmoil and social unrest for which the era is remembered but the external forces are thought to have been a greater influence, notably the harsh terms imposed by the Treaty of Versailles (1919) and the extraordinary level of war reparations, the latter associated particularly with the hyper-inflation of 1923.  However, it was a time of unusual social & political freedom, marked by an outpouring of innovative cultural creativity.  One thing which tends to be obscured by what came later was that by 1928 the system had been stabilized and the economy was stable; in the last election prior to the Wall Street Crash (1929), the Nazi vote had slumped, rendering the party an outlier with no immediate prospect of success.  In democratic politics, the the so-called "protest vote" can at scale be attracted only if a critical mass of people think things are so bad they're prepared to "take a risk" on an unproven alternative; it was only the depression of the early 1930s which doomed Weimar and even then, the Nazis gained power not by achieving an electoral majority but through a series of back channel deals by establishment figures who (at the time, understandably) underestimated the threat posed.

Lindsay Lohan in court, Los Angeles, 2011.

Actually, rather than the pleasant city in Thuringia which lent the constitution its name, it was Berlin, the national and Prussian capital which came most to be associated with the artistic and sexual experimentation of the republic.  Although most of went on in the place was little different than in other conservative German cities it was the small but highly visible numbers of those enjoying the excesses which attracted attention.  In his novel Down There on a Visit (1962) Christopher Isherwood (1904–1986) wrote of the sort of warning respectable folk would in the 1920s offer to anyone who seemed to need the advice:

“Christopher - in the whole of Thousand Nights and One Night, in the most shameless rituals of the Tantra, in the carvings on the Black Pagoda, in the Japanese brothel-pictures, in the vilest perversions of the oriental mind, you couldn’t find anything more nauseating than what goes on there, quite openly, every day. That city is doomed, more surely than Sodom ever was."  And then and there I made a decision - one that was to have a very important effect on the rest of my life. I decided that, no matter how, I would get to Berlin just as soon as ever I could and that I would stay there a long, long time.

Weimar art: Der Künstler mit zwei erhängten Frauen (The Artist with Two Hanged Women), watercolour and graphite on paper by Rudolf Schlichter (1890-1955).  Note the high-heeled jackboots.   

Isherwood left London by the afternoon train for Berlin on 14 March 1929, taking a room next to the Hirschfeld Institute for Sexual Science from which he explored the city’s “decadence and depravity” enjoying just about every minute and by his own account every gay bar and club (of which there were many).  That niche was only one of many to which the Berlin of Weimer catered, all fetishes seemingly there from morphine, cocaine and opium houses to a club at which membership was restricted to a “coven of coprophagists [who] gorged a prostitute on chocolate, gave her a laxative and settled down to a feast.”  Actually, at the time, there was plenty of depravity among the Nazis, however much the public platform of the party might stress traditional values and they were as condemnatory as the Pope of communists, homosexuals and Freemasons (by contrast, it was institutions such as the Roman Catholic Church, the British Empire and comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) which attracted the sometimes grudging admiration of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  Indeed, in his writings and the recollections of his contemporaries, Hitler didn’t much dwell on moral matters but ceaselessly would condemn those aspects of German culture he believed the Weimar generation were corrupting including “modernist architecture, Dadaist art, Jewish psychoanalysis, experimental theatre, short shirts, lipstick, bobbed hair, dances like the foxtrot and jazz” (the last of which he derided as “a degenerate negroid sound”).

Weimar art: Sonnenfinsternis (Eclipse of the Sun (1926)), oil on canvas by George Grosz (1893-1959).  Weimar was not untouched by surrealism.

The lurid tales of Weimar Berlin from the diaries of Christopher Isherwood now entertain rather than shock as once they would have managed but the expressionist art which flourished at the time remains striking.  A stridently experimental fork of the European avant-garde, the Weimar artists chose to ignore traditional aesthetic conventions and, according to some critics, the painters were fascinated by ugliness, the composers by atonal dissonance.  They were also artists who were predominately urban and focused upon the city, its decadence and corrosive influence upon the individual.  The Weimar period was the time also when the phrase magischer Realismus (magic realism) was coined, more accurately to describe what had come to be known as the Neue Sachlichkeit (new objectivity).  Magic realism is now thought of as a literary genre in which fantastical elements are interpolated into life-like depictions of the world but the first use was in 1925 by German art historian Franz Roh (1890–1965) who observed many artists in the Weimar Republic rejecting (or at least ignoring) the idealistic style (fashionable before World War I (1914-1918) and which had combined naturalistic depiction with an amplification of beauty and virtue), in favor of something recognizably realistic yet blended with uncanny elements.  Roh’s understanding of magic realism was at least partially an acknowledgement of technology: the influence of photography and moving pictures (film).  Then as now, there was debate about whether there was some point at which realism stopped and surrealism began but the distinction was that magic realism was a distortion of the actual material world for some political or other didactic purpose whereas surrealism explored the abstractions which lurked in the subconscious mind. 

In the Weimar style: The Rt Hon Theresa May MP (2023), a portrait of Lady May (b 1956; UK prime-minister 2016-2019) by Saied Dai (b 1958).

Painted by Tehran-born Saied Dai, it will hang in  Portcullis House, Parliament's office complex where many MPs have their offices and not since Graham Sutherland’s (1903–1980) portrait of Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) was unveiled in 1954 has a painting of one of the country’s prime-ministers attracted so much interest, the reception of such works not usually much more than perfunctory.  Sutherland was commissioned (as second choice; Sir Herbert Gunn's (1893–1964) fee deemed too high) by the ad hoc “Churchill Joint Houses of Parliament Gift Committee” to paint a portrait to mark the prime minister’s 80^th birthday and, on 30 November 1954, members of the Commons & the Lords assembled in Westminster Hall to mark the occasion.  Paid for by parliamentary subscription (the idea of paying for such a thing from their own pockets would appal today’s politicians), it was intended the work would remain with Churchill until his death after which it would be gifted to the state to hang in the Palace of Westminster.

Winston Churchill (1954) by Graham Sutherland.

Things didn’t work out that way.  Churchill, not anyway much enjoying the aging process loathed the painting and felt betrayed by the artist, the preliminary sketches he’d been shown hinting at something rather different.  Initially, he sulked, first saying he wouldn’t attend the event, then that he’d turn up only if the painting wasn’t there but his moods often softened with a little coercion and he agreed to make a short speech of thanks at the unveiling, his most memorable lines being: “The portrait is a remarkable example of modern art. It certainly combines force and candour.”  It wasn’t hard to read between the lines and when delivered to Churchill’s country house, the painting was left in a storeroom, never unwrapped and never again to be seen, Lady Churchill (Clementine Churchill (Baroness Spencer-Churchill; 1885–1977) in 1956 incinerating it in what was described as “a huge bonfire”.  That she'd executed one of history’s most practical examples of art criticism wasn't revealed until 1979.  Curiously, when first she saw it in 1954 she admired the work, Somerset Maugham (1874–1965) who was with her at the time noting she “liked the portrait very much” and was much “moved and full of praise for it.”  Her view soon changed.

The better-received May portrait was commissioned this time by the Speaker's Advisory Committee on Works of Art at a cost to the taxpayer of Stg£28,000 (in adjusted terms somewhat less than the thousand guineas paid in 1954) and Mrs May (she doesn’t use the title gained in 2020 upon her husband being knighted (for “political service”) in Boris Johnson’s (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022) remarkable (and belated) Dissolution Honours List) was reported as saying she thought the portrait a “huge honour”.  When interviewed, the artist said his “…aim was to produce not just a convincing physical likeness, but also a psychological characterization, both individual and yet archetypal - imbued with symbolism and atmosphere.  A good painting needs to be a revelation and also paradoxically, an enigma. It should possess an indefinable quality - in short, a mystery.”

A work of careful composition, critics have found in it influences from the Renaissance and Mannerism but it’s most obviously in the spirit of the German expressionists identified with the Weimar Republic and the addition of a convallaria majalis (the "lily of the valley" which flowers in May) was the sort of touch they would have admired.  Interestingly, Mr Dai expressed relief he’d not been asked to render Mr Johnson on canvas which is understandable because while an artist could permit their interpretative imagination free reign and produce something memorable, Mr Johnson over the decades has been a series of living, breathing caricatures and it would be challenge for anyone to capture his “psychological characterization”.  The Weimaresque May in oil on canvas works so well because it’s so at variance with the one-dimensional image of the subject which has so long been in the public mind.  Whether it will change the perception of Mrs May in the minds of many isn’t known but critics mostly have admired the work and views of her premiership do seem to have been revised in the light of the rare displays of ineptitude which have marked the time in office of her three successors.

After Weimar: Der Bannerträger (The Standard Bearer (circa 1936)) oil on plywood by Hubert Lanzinger (1880-1950).  The post card with the inscription Ob im Glück oder Unglück, ob in der Freiheit oder im Gefängnis, ich bin meiner Fahne, die heute des Deutschen Reiches Staatsflagge ist, treu geblieben (Whether in good fortune or misfortune, whether in freedom or in prison, I have remained loyal to my flag, which is now the state flag of the German Reich) was issued in 1939, one of many such uses of the image which depicts Hitler as a knight in shining armor on horseback, bearing a Swastika flag.  As he did whenever a  postage stamp with his image was sold, the Führer received a tiny fee as a royalty; multiplied by millions, he gleaned quite a income from the use.  In one of the many examples of the fakery which underpinned Nazism (and fascism in general), in real life, Hitler was “terrible on horseback".

Der Bannerträger was an example of the type of art which proliferated in both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, works which constructed the the personality cult around Hitler and comrade Stalin, reinforcing the messaging of both regimes.  Although, understandably, biographers and others have much focused on the two as human characters, as historical figures they need also be understood as manufactured constructs something certainly understood by the Soviet leader who once explained the abstraction of the personality cult by pointing to one of his many huge portraits and saying “…you see, even I am not Stalin, THAT is Stalin!”  One remarkably succinct sketch of how these thing are done lies in the pages of Paris: The Memoir (2023) in which Paris Hilton (b 1981) detailed the way Paris Hilton (the blonde flesh & blood creature) has a full-time job being Paris Hilton (the blonde public installation), a dualism she treated seriously because its maintenance demands study and an understanding of the supply & demand curves of shifting markets; a personality cult needs to be managed because, while some aspects must remain static, others need to evolve.

Such imagery Hitler dutifully would acknowledge when they were presented but he really did think them a kind of kitsch and while understanding their utility as propaganda pieces, they aroused in him little interest.  What he really liked in a painting was beauty as he defined it and in this his differentiation was something like his views on architecture where the standards imposed on the “functional” varied from his expectations of the “representational”.  Hitler would admire modern architecture rendered in steel & glass if it was being used for a factory or warehouse; there it was a matter of efficiency and improving working conditions but for the public buildings of the Reich, he insisted on classical motifs in granite.  In painting, he distinguished between what was essentially “advertising” and “real” art which the expressionism of the Weimar era certainly was not; the “…sky is not green, dogs are not blue and anyone who paints them as such has a sick mind” was his summary of thought on the Weimar art movement.  His preference was for (1) the Neoclassical which drew inspiration from the Greek and Roman art of Antiquity and his fondness extended not only to the voluptuous female nudes historians like to mention but also to the idealized, heroic figures representing nobility and heroism; with these he identified, (2) realistic landscapes, particularly those of the German countryside at its most lovely, (3) German Academic Realism which produced intricately detailed realistic representations of subjects, (4) depictions from Norse mythology which created a link between the legends and the idealized vision of the Nazi project and (5), traditional portraiture, if realistic and flattering (certainly demanded of the many painted of him).

Women in Weimer art: Margot (1924), oil on canvas by Rudolf Schlichter (1890-1955) (left), Porträt der Tänzerin Anita Berber (Portrait of the Dancer Anita Berber (1925)), oil and tempera on plywood by Otto Dix (1891–1969) (centre) and Bean Ingram (1928), oil on canvas by Herbert Gurschner (1901-1975) (right). 

Books of which the Nazis didn’t approve could be burned and proscribed music not performed but the practical public servants in the finance ministry knew much of the Entartete Kunst (degenerate art) removed from German (and later Austrian) galleries was highly sought by collectors in other countries and valuable foreign exchange was obtained from these sales (some of which in the post-war years proved controversial because of the provenance of some pieces sold then and later; they turned out to have been “obtained” from occupied territories or Jews).  Hitler despised Dadaism, Expressionism, Cubism, Surrealism and just about every other modern "ism" in art and expected others in the Reich to share his view but an exhibition of Entartete Kunst in Munich in 1937 proved an embarrassing one-off for the regime because people from around the country travelled to see itm making it the most attended art show of the Third Reich.  It was Weimar’s revenge.

Press

Press (pronounced pres)

(1) To act upon with steadily applied weight or force.

(2) To move by weight or force in a certain direction or into a certain position.

(3) To compress or squeeze, as to alter in shape or size.

(4) To hold closely, as in an embrace; clasp.

(5) To flatten or make smooth, especially by ironing.

(6) To extract juice, sugar, etc from by pressure.

(7) To manufacture (phonograph records, videodiscs, or the like), especially by stamping from a mold or matrix.

(8) To exert weight, force, or pressure.

(9) In weightlifting, to raise or lift, especially a specified amount of weight, in a press.

(10) To iron clothing, curtains, etc.

(11) To bear heavily, as upon the mind.

(12) To compel in another, haste, a change of opinion etc.

(13) Printed publications, especially newspapers and periodicals.  Collectively, all the media and agencies that print, broadcast, or gather and transmit news, including newspapers, newsmagazines, radio and television news bureaus, and wire services.

(14) The editorial employees, taken collectively, of these media and agencies.

(15) To force into military service.

1175-1225: From the Middle English press & presse (throng, trouble, machine for pressing) from the Old French, from presser (to press) from the Latin pressāre, frequentative of premere (past participle pressus).  In Medieval Latin it became pressa (noun use of the feminine of pressus).  The noun press (a crowd, throng, company; crowding and jostling of a throng; a massing together) emerged in the late twelfth century and was from the eleventh century Old French presse (a throng, a crush, a crowd; wine or cheese press), from the Latin pressare.  Although in the Late Old English press existed in the sense of "clothes press", etymologists believe the Middle English word is probably from French.  The general sense of an "instrument or machine by which anything is subjected to pressure" dates from the late fourteenth century and was first used to describe a "device for pressing cloth" before being extended to "devices which squeeze juice from grapes, oil from olives, cider from apples etc".  The sense of "urgency; urgent demands of affairs" emerged in the 1640s.  It subsequently proved adaptable as a technical term in sports, adopted by weightlifting in 1908 while the so-called (full-court press) defense in basketball was first recorded in 1959.  Press is a noun & verb, pressingness is a noun, pressing is a noun, verb & adjective, pressed is a verb & adjective and pressingly is an adverb; the noun plural is presses.  The now archaic verb prest was a simple past and past participle of press.

Fleet Street's last "hot-metal" press, now a permanent exhibit at National Science Museum's Science and Innovation Park, Wroughton, England.

Installed originally in the 1930s to print the Daily Mail and Evening Standard, the apparatus is some 9 metres (29½ feet) high and 9½ metres (31 feet) long, weighing 140 tonnes (154 short tons).  Given the bulk, the museum's management have good reason to make this exhibit permanent.  Although considerably more intricate than the printing presses of 500 years earlier, the operators of those would still have recognized and understood the processes and mechanisms.

The specific sense "machine for printing" was from the 1530s, extended by the 1570s to publishing houses and to publishing generally (in phrases like freedom of the press) from circa 1680 although meaning gradually shifted in early 1800s to "periodical publishing; journalism".  Newspapers collectively came to be spoken of as "the press" simply because they were printed on printing presses and the use to mean "journalists collectively" is attested from 1921 but this has faded from use with the decline in print and the preferred reference has long been “the news media”, Donald Trump (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) helpfully distinguishing between the news media (those agreeing with him) and the fake new media (those not).  The first gathering called a press conference is attested from 1931, though the thing itself had been around for centuries (and in some sense formalized during World War I (1914-1918)) although a politician appears first to have appointed a “press secretary” as late as 1940; prior to that there was some reluctance among politicians to admit they had people on the payroll to "manage the press" but the role long pre-dates 1940.  The term “press release” (an official statement offered to a newspaper and authorized for publication) is from 1918 although the practice was of long-standing.  The sense "force into military (especially naval) service" emerged (most famously in the “press-gang” (a detachment under command of an officer empowered to press men into public service)) in the 1570s, an alteration (by association with the verb press) of the mid-fourteenth century prest (engage by loan, pay in advance (especially in reference to money paid to a soldier or sailor on enlisting), from the Latin praestare (to stand out, stand before; fulfill, perform, provide), the construct being prae- (before) + stare (to stand), from the primitive Indo-European root sta- (to stand, make or be firm).  The verb was related to praesto (ready, available).  The concept of "press ganging" to obtain men for military service is ancient but in the codified way it was done by the Royal Navy it remains the Admiralty's greatest contribution to HRM (human resource management).  

Rupert Murdoch (b 1931), Fleet Street, London, 1969.

Mr Murdoch is pictured with one of the first copies of the new The Sun newspaper, “hot off the press”, the print-run in November 1969 the first since his acquisition of the title.  Ownership of the The Sun proved handy because, after being compelled to close the long-running News of the World in the wake of the "phone hacking scandal", in 2012 Mr Murdoch created a Sunday edition of The Sun, meaning he needed to maintain only one 7-day tabloid rather than two (and the two titles were more similar than they were different); once again, following a crisis, things worked out rather well for Mr Murdoch.  It was Mr Murdoch who added the topless “Page 3 girls” to the Sun, prompting one media analyst to conclude: “Well, Rupert Murdoch has found a gap in the market, the oldest gap in the world”.

In 1969, the phrase “hot off the press” was literal because the old “hot type” presses used the heat in the hand-assembled metal plates to complete the chemical process by which ink end up on paper.  Prepared even to sustain loss-making mastheads if he thinks their continued existence fulfils some useful purpose (such as “influence” or “agenda-setting”), Mr Murdoch clearly retains some residual affection for the print titles on which he built his empire(s) but the old expression “printer's ink in his veins” now is nuanced because although his papers still consume much ink and paper, more than anyone he was responsible for the demise of the old “hot type” printing presses which had evolved over centuries.  Modern newspapers still are printed with a form of ink but, mostly using a process called web offset printing (a variant of offset lithography, optimized for speed and high throughput), that "ink" is so low in viscosity it’s better imagined as a paste.  Usually petroleum or soy-based, the substance is transferred from a metal plate to a rubber "blanket" and, as the newsprint (porous paper in continuous rolls) moves through the press, the ink is applied to the paper as shapes, text and images.  The ink’s chemistry is formulated to ensure absorption into newsprint is close to instantaneous; in this the mix differs from traditional inks which could take seconds or even minutes to dry to the point printed paper could be handled without smudging, drying now achieved almost wholly by absorption and evaporation, not heat-fusing.  To gain speed, there was a trade-off in quality in that being relatively thin, the ink produces less color saturation than is achieved by what’s used for glossy magazines (which is why newspaper images look softer or slightly grayish).  That is of course acceptable because newspapers have a short life, an idea encapsulated by the band the Rolling Stones that in 1967 sang “Who wants yesterday’s papers. Nobody in the world.” although the meaning of that track was better summed up in the line: “Who wants yesterdays girl.”

Cover girl Sydney Sweeney (b 1997) amply filling the cover of Cosmopolitan's “Love Edition”, January 2026; content providers like Ms Sweeny will help ensure the survival of at least some print titles.  A tablet computer and a printed glossy are just two different technologies and whether a magazine like Cosmopolitan or a newspaper like The Economist, reading the physical copy tends to be more pleasing, tactile experience.

However, just as Mr Murdoch was in the 1980s instrumental in consigning the old printing presses to the scrapheap (along with a substantial number of the unionized workforce previously employed to maintain and run them), he’s also seen technological advances impose not always welcome changes on his business model, some of the implications of which he discussed in 2006: “To find something comparable, you have to go back 500 years to the printing press, the birth of mass media – which, incidentally, is what really destroyed the old world of kings and aristocracies. Technology is shifting power away from the editors, the publishers, the establishment, the media elite. Now it’s the people who are taking control.”  He may have been too pessimistic because, in the 2020s, watching Mr Murdoch’s Fox News, it’s not immediately obvious the people have “taken control” and a more glum analysis suggests the elites merely have done what elites always have sought to do as conditions shift: keep the strategy, adjust the tactics.  Still, although printed newspapers no longer need to exist, nostalgic types who enjoy the ritualism of reading one spread on a table while taking a coffee (and maybe even a cigarette) will miss them when they’re gone so they at least will wish Mr Murdoch many more years of rude good health because whether the print titles will survive his (God forbid) death isn’t certain.  Despite that uncertainty, most analysts seem to believe print in its (possibly diminishing) niches will likely endure.  Some of the glossies continue to flourish and encouragingly, the pleasingly quirky automotive site Petrolicious (revived after being acquired by the duPont Registry Group in 2024) has brought back its printed, tabloid size monthly Petrolicious Post (US$9.00 cover price, US$108.00 annual subscription), the internet lowering the costs associated with such projects by permitting direct-to-customer distribution without the need to supply newsstands.

Most meanings related to pushing and exerting pressure had formed by the mid-fourteenth century and this had been extended to mean "to urge or argue for" by the 1590s.  The early fourteenth century pressen (to clasp, hold in embrace) extended in meaning by the mid century also to mean "to squeeze out" & "to cluster, gather in a crowd" and by the late 1300s, "to exert weight or force against, exert pressure" (and also "assault, assail" & "forge ahead, push one's way, move forward", again from the thirteenth century Old French presser (squeeze, press upon; torture)", from the Latin pressare (to press (the frequentative formation from pressus, past participle of premere (to press, hold fast, cover, crowd, compress), from the primitive Indo-European root per- (to strike)).  The sense of "to reduce to a particular shape or form by pressure" dates from the early fifteenth century while the figurative (“to attack”) use was recorded some decades earlier.  The meaning "to urge; beseech, argue for" dates from the 1590s.

The letter-press referred to matter printed from relief surfaces and was a term first used in the 1840s (the earlier (1771) description had been "text," as opposed to copper-plate illustration).  The noun pressman has occasionally been used to refer to newspaper journalists but in the 1590s it described "one who operates or has charge of a printing press" and was adopted after the 1610s to refer to "one employed in a wine-press".  A similar sharing of meaning attached to the pressroom which in the 1680s meant "a room where printing presses are worked" and by 1902 it was also a "room (in a courthouse, etc.) reserved for the use of reporters".  To press the flesh (shake hands) came into use in 1926 and a neglected use of “pressing” is as a form of torture.  Under a wide variety of names, pressing was a popular method of torture or execution for over four-thousand years; mostly using rocks and stones but elephants tended to be preferred in South and South-East Asia.  It’s a medieval myth that Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England 1509-1547) invented pressing but he certainly adopted it as a method of torture with his usual enthusiasm for such things.  Across the channel, under the French civil code, Peine forte et dure (forceful and hard punishment) defined pressing.  Used when a defendant refused to plead, the victim would be subjected to having heavier and heavier stones placed upon his or her chest until a plea was entered, or as the weight of the stones on the chest became too great for the subject to breathe, fatal suffocation would occur.

Pressed for time: Giles Corey's Punishment and Awful Death (1692), a drawing held by the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington DC.  Watched by a presumably approving crowd, the technique was to place stones upon the board covering the unfortunate soul: The “straw which broke the camel’s back” principle.

Remembered as a method use for torture and to extract confessions, the technique of pressing was known often as “crushing” if used in executions or the unfortunate victim of a pressing were to die.  Giles Corey was a farmer of 81 who lived in south-west Salem village, Massachusetts who had been accused of witchcraft, then a fashionable charge in Salem (despite the perception, it wasn't only women who were arraigned as witches).  He chose not to enter a plea and simply remained mute in court, prompting the judges to order the coercive measure peine forte et dure, an ancient legal device dating from thirteenth century Anglo-Norman law and which translated literally as “a long and hard punishment”; it was used to persuade those who refused to engage in process to change their mind (ie forcing an accused to enter a plea).  In the First Statute of Westminster (3 Edward I. c. 12; 1275) it stated (in Sir Edward Coke’s (1552–1634) later translation):  “That notorious Felons, which openly be of evil name, and will not put themselves in Enquests of Felonies that Men shall charge them with before the Justices at the King’s suit, shall have strong and hard Imprisonment (prisone forte et dure), as they which refuse to stand to the common Law of the Land.”

Prisone forte et dure came into use because of the principle in English law that a court required the accused voluntarily to seek its jurisdiction over a matter before it could hear the case, the accused held to have expressed this request by entering a plea.  Should an accused refuse to enter a plea, the court could not hear the case which, constructively, was an obvious abuse of process in the administration of justice so the work-around was to impose a “coercive means”.  The First Statute of Westminster however refers to prisone forte et dure (a strong and hard imprisonment) and it does seem the original intent was to subject the recalcitrant to imprisonment under especially harsh conditions (bread & water and worse) but at some point in the thirteenth or fourteenth centuries there seems to have been a bit of mission creep and the authorities were interpreting things to permit pressing.  The earliest known document confirming a death is dated 1406 but it’s clear that by then pressing was not novel with the court acknowledging that if the coercive effect was not achieved, the accused certainly would die.  One who might have been pleased the law had moved on from torturing defendants who declined to enter a plea was Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941).  Appearing before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial which heard the cases against two dozen of the surviving leading Nazis, those in the dock all pleaded "not guilty" except Hess who stood at the microphone, said "nein" (no) and walked back to his place.  Dryly, the IMT's president responded:  "That will be recorded as a plea of 'not guilty'".  There was laughter in the court.  

Pressed Duck

Caneton à la presse, Aus$190 (US$122) at Philippe Restaurant (Melbourne).

Pressed duck (In the French the dish described variously as canard à la presse, caneton à la presse, canard à la rouennaise, caneton à la rouennaise or canard au sang) is one of the set-pieces of traditional French cuisine and the rarity with which it's now served is accounted for not by its complexity but the time-consuming and labor-intensive steps in its preparation.  Regarded as a specialty of Rouen, the creation was attributed to an innkeeper from the city of Duclair.  Expensive and now really more of a set-piece event than a meal, pressed duck in the twenty-first century rarely appears on menus and is often subject to conditions such as being ordered up to 48 hours in advance or accompanied with the pre-payment of at least a deposit.  Inevitably too there will be limits on the number available because a restaurant will have only so many physical duck presses and if that’s just one, then it’s one pressed duck per sitting and, given what’s involved, that means one per evening.  Some high-end a la carte restaurants do still have it on the menu including La Tour d'Argent in Paris, Philippe Restaurant in Melbourne, Ottos in London, À L'aise in Oslo, The Charles in Sydney (a version with dry-aged Maremma duck) and Pasjoli in Los Angeles lists caneton à la presse as its signature dish.

Pressed duck sequence of events: The duck press (left), pressing the duck (centre) & pressed duck (right).

Instructions

(1) Select a young, plump duck.

(2) Wringing the neck, quickly asphyxiate duck, ensuring all blood is retained.

(3) Partially roast duck.

(4) Remove liver; grind and season liver.

(5) Remove breast and legs.

(6) Take remaining carcass (including other meat, bones, and skin) and place in duck-press.

(7) Apply pressure in press to extract and collect blood and other juices from carcass.

(8) Take extracted blood, thicken and flavor with the duck's liver, butter, and Cognac.  Combine with the breast to finish cooking.  Other ingredients that may be added to the sauce include foie gras, port wine, Madeira wine, and lemon.

(9) Slice the breast and serve with sauce as a first serving; the legs are broiled and served as the next course.

Silverplate Duck Press (Item# 31-9128) offered at M.S. Rau Antiques (Since 1912) in New Orleans at US$16,850.

According to culinary legend, the mechanism of the screw-type appliance was perfected in the late nineteenth century by chefs at the Tour d'Argent restaurant in Paris, the dish then called canard au sang (literally “duck in its blood”), a description which was accurate but presumably “pressed duck” was thought to have a wider appeal.  The example pictured is untypically ornate with exquisite foliate scrollwork and delicate honeycomb embossing on the base.  Although associated with the famous dish, outside of the serving period, chefs used duck presses for other purposes where pressing was required including the preparation of stocks or confits (various foods that have been immersed in a substance for both flavor and preservation).

Pressed duck got a mention in a gushing puff-piece extolling the virtues of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) which, in the pre-war years, was a remarkably fertile field of journalistic endeavour on both sides of the Atlantic.  William George Fitz-Gerald (circa 1970-1942) was a prolific Irish journalist who wrote under the pseudonym Ignatius Phayre and the English periodical Country Life published his account of a visit to the Berchtesgaden retreat on the invitation of his “personal friend” Adolf Hitler.  That claim was plausible because although when younger Fitz-Gerald’s writings had shown some liberal instincts, by the “difficult decade” of the 1930s, experience seems to have persuaded him the world's problems were caused by democracy and the solution was an authoritarian system, headed by what he called “the long looked for leader.”  Clearly taken by his contributor’s stance, in introducing the story, Country Life’s editor called Hitler “one of the most extraordinary geniuses of the century” and noted “the Führer is fond of painting in water-colours and is a devotee of Mozart.”

Country Life, March 1936 (both Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945)   (1893–1946) and Werner von Blomberg (1878–1946; Reichsminister of War 1935-1938) (1878–1946) were then generals and not field marshals, von Blomberg raised to the rank in April 1936, Göring in February 1938).  Göring wearing the traditional southern German Lederhosen (leather pants) must have been a sight worth seeing.

Substantially, the piece in Country Life also appeared in the journal Current History with the title: Holiday with Hitler: A Personal Friend Tells of a Personal Visit with Der Führer — with a Minimum of Personal Bias”.  In hindsight it may seem a challenge for a journalist, two years on from the regime’s well-publicized murders of a least dozens of political opponents (and some unfortunate bystanders who would now be classed as “collateral damage”) in the pre-emptive strike against the so-called “Röhm putsch”, to keep bias about the Nazis to a minimum although many in his profession did exactly that, some notoriously.  It’s doubtful Fitz-Gerald visited the Obersalzberg when claimed or that he ever met Hitler because his story is littered with minor technical errors and absurdities such as Der Führer personally welcoming him upon touching down at Berchtesgaden’s (non-existent) aerodrome or the loveliness of the cherry orchid (not a species to survive in alpine regions).  Historians have concluded the piece was assembled with a mix of plagiarism and imagination, a combination increasingly familiar since the internet encouraged its proliferation.  Still, with the author assuring his readers Hitler was really more like the English country gentlemen with which they were familiar than the frightening and ranting “messianic” figure he was so often portrayed, it’s doubtful the Germans ever considered complaining about the odd deviation from the facts and just welcomed the favourable publicity.

So, those who complain about the early implementations of consumer generative AI (artificial intelligence) products "making stuff up" to "fill in the gaps" can be assured it's something with a long (if not noble) tradition among flesh & blood content providers whether they be the Nazi Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda or a working journalist hustling for a dollar.  Generative AI is likely for some time to remain in its "early implementation" phase so should be used with much the same approach as that taken by the inspection teams of the US & USSR when auditing the outcomes of various SALT (Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty) agreements: "trust but verify".  As a working journalist, Fitz-Gerald became used to editing details so he could sell essentially the same piece to several different publications, cutting & pasting (then often literally done with scissors and glue-pot) as required, Current History’s subscribers spared the lengthy descriptions of the Berghof’s carpets, curtains and furniture enjoyed by Country Life’s readers who were also able to learn of the food served at der Tabellenführer, the Truite saumonée à la Monseigneur Selle (salmon trout Monseigneur style) and caneton à la presse (pressed duck) both praised although in all the many accounts of life of the court circle’s life on the Obersalzberg, there no mention of the vegetarian Hitler ever having such things on the menu.

Indeed, in Erinnerungen (Memories or Reminiscences) and published in English as Inside the Third Reich (1969), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) recalled that belying the impression of excess created by the regime’s gaudy spectacles and monumentalist architecture, there was little extravagance at Hitler’s table, fresh vegetables his single gastronomic indulgence (although his weakness for sweet pastries and cakes has been well documented).  Describing things, Speer wrote: “The food was emphatically simple.  A soup, no appetizer, meat with vegetables and potatoes, a sweet.  For beverage we had a choice between mineral water, ordinary Berlin bottled beer, or a cheap wine.  Hitler was served his vegetarian food, drank Fachinger mineral water, and those of his guests who wished could imitate him.  But few did.  It was Hitler himself who insisted on this simplicity.  He could count on its being talked about in Germany.  Once, when the Helgoland fishermen presented him with a gigantic lobster, this delicacy was served at table, much to the satisfaction of the guests, but Hitler made disapproving remarks about the human error of consuming such ugly monstrosities. Moreover, he wanted to have such luxuries forbidden, he declared.  Göring seldom came to these meals.  Once, when I left him to go to dinner at the Chancellery, he remarked: ‘To tell the truth, the food there is too rotten for my taste.  And then, these party dullards from Munich!  Unbearable.’"

The tabloid press: On 29 November 2006, News Corp's New York Post ran its front page with a paparazzi photo of Lindsay Lohan (b 1986), Britney Spears (b 1981) and Paris Hilton (b 1981), the snap taken outside a Los Angeles nightclub, shortly before dawn.  Remembered for the classic tabloid headline Bimbo Summit, the car was Ms Hilton's Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren (C199 (2003-2009)).

The term "tabloid press" refers to down-market style of journalism designed to enjoy wide appeal through an emphasis on scandals, sensation and sport, featuring as many celebrities as possible.  The word tabloid was originally a trademark for a medicine which had been compressed into a small tablet, the construct being tab(let) + -oid (the suffix from the Ancient Greek -ειδής (-eidḗs) & -οειδής (-oeidḗs) (the ο being the last vowel of the stem to which the suffix is attached), from εἶδος (eîdos) (form, likeness)).  From the idea of the pill being the small version of something bigger, tabloid came to be used to refer to miniaturized iterations of a variety of stuff, newspapers being the best known use.  A tabloid is a newspaper with a compact page size smaller than broadsheet but despite the name, there is no standardized size for the format but it's generally about half the size of a broadsheet.  In recent decades, economic reality has intruded on the newspaper business and there are now a number of tabloid-sized newspapers (called "compacts" to distinguish them from the less reputable) which don't descend to the level of tabloid journalism (although there has been a general lowering of standards).

The Mean Girls (2004) Burn Book (left) and Lindsay Lohan burning an “inflammatory” tabloid magazine, Lindsay Lohan: The Obsession, GQ Magazine, October 2006.

In Mean Girls, the Burn Book gained its notoriety from being packed with inflammatory comments.  In a visual critique of the tabloid press's "obsession" with her (admittedly incident-packed young) life, Lindsay Lohan in 2006 posed for a photo-shoot by Terry Richardson (b 1965) for GQ (Gentlemen's Quarterly) magazine.  Titled Lindsay Lohan: The Obsession, the theme was her as a case-study of the way the “tabloid press” handled celebrity culture, the joke being a magazine with “inflammatory content about her” being literally set aflame, the glossy paper of course being flammable.  It’s appears a consensus in the “media studies” crew this aspect of “tabloid culture” peaked in the first dozen-odd years of the twenty-first century, the reasons for that including (1) the period having an exceptionally large cast of suitable subjects, (2) smart phones with HD (high-definition) cameras becoming consumer items meaning potential content proliferated (ie what once would not have been photographed now became available to editors as low cost images) and (3) social media sites not having attained critical mass, all factors which at the time enabled the lower-end glossies to flourish.