Boomerang

Boomerang (pronounced boo-muh-rang)

(1) A bent or curved piece of tough wood used by some of the Indigenous peoples of Australian as a throwing stick (and for other purposes), one form of which can be thrown so as to return to the thrower.  Such throwing sticks have also been found in archaeological digs in other places.

(2) Based on the use Indigenous peoples of Australia, an object in the shape of a flat curved air-foil that spins about an axis perpendicular to the direction of flight, used for various purposes including sport, training and aeronautical purposes.

(3) In design, anything using the boomerang shape (not always symmetrically)

(4) Something which in flight assumes the shape of a boomerang, such as the “boomerang kick” in certain football codes.

(5) In theatre and other stage environments, a mobile platform (mobile and height-adjustable) used for setting or painting scenery.

(6) In theatre and other stage environments, a batten, usually suspended vertically in the wings, used for mounting lighting units.

(7) In theatre and other stage environments, a device for changing the color of a follow-spot(light).

(8) In psychology, as “boomerang effect”, a strong opposing response caused by attempts to restrict a person's freedom or change their attitudes.

(9) In pathology, as “boomerang dysplasia”, a lethal osteochondrodysplasia in which the bones of the arms and legs are congenitally malformed into the shape of a boomerang.

(10) In air force (originally Royal Air Force (RAF)) slang, the early return of an aircraft from an aborted mission, often attributer to mechanical or other technical problems.

(11) A cocktail made with rye whiskey and Swedish punsch.

(12) Figuratively, something or someone which come backs or returns (as the boomerang behaves when correctly thrown) and when applied to people used especially of those who habitually return (often as “serial boomeranger”).

(13) Something (physical and otherwise, such as a scheme, statement or argument) which causes harm to the originator (the idea of a “rebound” or “backfire”).

(14) The action of coming back, returning or backfiring:

1827: From būmariny (missile weapon used by Aborigines), the recorded phonetic form of a word in one of the now extinct languages spoken by the Dharuk people native to an area in New South Wales now known to geographers as the Sydent basin.  A word pronounced as wo-mur-rang was noted in NSW in 1798 which may have been related but there’s no documentary evidence.  Boomerang is a noun & verb; boomeranger is a noun, boomeranged & boomeranging are verbs, the noun plural is boomerangs.

Benson Microfibre Boomerang Pillow. The manufacturers claim the shape is adaptable to all sleeping positions and provides additional support for joints and relieves pressure points.  It’s also ideal for reading, tablet or laptop use in bed.

The verb use in the sense of “throw a boomerang” seems to have come into use in the 1800s while the figurative sense of “fly back or return to a starting point” was in use by the early twentieth century.  A “boomerang baby”, “boomerang child” or boomerang kid” is one who returns to live in the family home after a period of independent living and known collective as the “boomerang generation”, the phenomenon noted in many countries and associated with financial distress, related especially to the cost of housing.

Indigenous Australian boomerangs from the collections of the Australian National Museum: In pigmented wood (left), a hooked, "number 7" by Yanipiyarti Ned Cox (centre) and with carving of horse and cow (right).

For the Indigenous (Aboriginal) peoples of Australia, the boomerang is as old as creation and since white settlement it has become also a symbol of the enduring strength of Aboriginal culture.  Although no written form of language (in the structured sense used elsewhere) evolved among them, an oral tradition now known “the Dreaming” (apparently no longer “Dreamtime”) extends from the past into the present. In the Dreaming, many of the physical formations of the (lakes, rivers, rock structures, mountains etc) were created when Ancestors threw boomerangs and spears into the earth.  Although the boomerang of the popular imagination is the familiar chevron shape, during the nineteenth century almost 300 language groups were identified by anthropologists and the construction of boomerangs varied, the divergences dictated mostly by the prevailing environment: Larger, heavier boomerangs were associated with inland and desert people while the lighter versions were thrown by coastal and high-country inhabitants.  Despite the perceptions, most were of the non-returning variety and were used as hunting weapons for the killing of birds and game including emu, kangaroo and other marsupials.  Not only was the boomerang a direct-impact device but the technique was also noted of a hunter making a boomerang ricochet off the ground to achieve an ideal angle.  The early observers recorded in skilled hands (and over thousands of years those skills would have been well-honed) the boomerang could be effective when hunting prey at a range up to 100 yards (90 m).

Back To Me (Cavalier's Boomerang Club Mix, 2020) by Lindsay Lohan.

Combination tactics were also observed.  When hunting for birds, a returning boomerang might be thrown above a flock of ducks to simulate the effect of a hovering bird of prey, inducing fright which would make the birds fly into nets set up in their flight path or, if within range, a hunter could cast a non-returning boomerang in the hope of a strike.  A special application and one which relied on a design with none of the famous aerodynamic properties was in the harvesting of fish, heavy boomerangs effective killing weapons of in areas of high tidal variation where fish became trapped in rock pools.   They were also Battle-weapons, used both to throw from some distance and in close combat, the types seen including small, hand-held “fighting sticks” device and some even two yards (1.8 m) in length.  Remarkably, the much the same implements served also as digging sticks used to forage for root and could be used to make fire, the familiar idea of “rubbing sticks together”.  Although these practical may have declined in significance as Western technology has been absorbed, boomerangs remain a prominent feature in Aboriginal dance and music.

Since the techniques developed for the shaping of Perspex and other plastics were (more or less) perfected during World War II (1939-1945), they’ve been widely adopted in industrial mass-production, for better and worse.  One thing made possible was boomerang-shaped taillights on cars which for years were about the most avant-garde of their type although of late, designers have been unable to resist the contortions and complexity made possible by the use of LEDs (light emitting diode).  Some critics insist the “boomerang” tag should be applied only to something in the shale of the “classic” boomerang and that anything asymmetric is properly a “hockey stick” but most seem content with the label.

Top row, left to right: 1969 Pontiac Bonneville, 1970 Hillman Avenger and 1967 Plymouth Barracuda.  Those which point "up" probably work better than those pointing "down" because the latter imposes a "droopiness".

Middle row, left to right: 1967 Chrysler Valiant VE Safari (Wagon), 1967 Chrysler Valiant VE Sedan and 1962 Pontiac Bonneville.  Strangely, although the sedan and wagon versions of the VE Valiant both used the boomerang shape, the moldings were different.

Bottom row, left to right: 1958 Edsel Bermuda station wagon, 1960 Chrysler New Yorker and 1975 Mazda RX-5.  The Edsel's tail lights worked as indicators and because the boomerang shape had link with the detailing on the rear quarter panels, when flashing, they actually "point" in the direction opposite to which the car is turning.  It was a harbinger of the Edsel's fate.

Louis Vuitton’s Fall 2014 campaign shoot with 1972 Maserati Boomerang, Giardini della Biennale, Venice.

The photo-shoot for Louis Vuitton’s Fall 2014 campaign at Venice’s Giardini della Biennale featured the 1972 Maserati Boomerang concept car.  Coordinated by Nicolas Ghesquière (b 1971; LV's women's creative director since 2013) and shot by German photographer Juergen Teller (b 1964), it was a rare appearance of the Boomerang which, designed by Giorgetto Giugiaro (b 1938), had first appeared at the Turin Motor Show as a static mock-up in Epowood (a versatile epoxy used for forming shapes) before being engineered as a fully-finished and working vehicle, built on the underpinnings of a Maserati Bora (1971-1978).  In that configuration it was displayed at the 1972 Geneva show where it was understood as one of the “high-speed wedges” of an era which included the original Lancia Stratos, the Lotus Esprit and, most influentially of all, the Lamborghini Countach, the cluster defining the template around which exotic machines would for decades be built, the design motif still apparent in today’s hypercars.  Eye-catching from the outside, the interior also fascinated with a steering wheel and gauge cluster built as a single console emerging from a distant dashboard, the wheel rotating as the gauges remained stationary.

1972 Maserati Boomerang by Giorgetto Giugiaro.

It was Italdesign, founded by Giorgetto Giugiaro which designed the Maserati 3200 GT (Tipo 338; 1998-2002), a car which, although not exciting in a way many of the marque’s earlier models had been, was an important element in the establishing Maserati’s twenty-first century reputation for functionalism and quality.  Importantly, although in production for only four of the transitional years during which ownership of the brand passed from Fiat to Ferrari and the solid underpinnings would be the basis for the succeeding Coupé and Spyder (4200 GT, Tipo M138; 2001-2007).

Maserati 3200 GT (left) and 1973 Dino 246 GTS (C&F) by Ferrari.  Round lights are better than other shapes.

It was on the 3200 GT that Italdesign used tail-lights in the shape of a boomerang, much comment upon at the time but also a landmark in that they were the first production car to be sold with taillights which were an assembly of LEDs, the outer layer the brake lights, the inner the directional indicators (flashers).  Following the contours of the bodywork and integrated with the truck (boot) lid, they were the most memorable feature on what was otherwise an inoffensive but bland execution which could have come from any factory in the Far East.  They generated much publicity but it’s hard to argue they’re better looking than the classic four round lenses known from many of the best Italians.  Like architects, designers seem often drawn to something new and ugly rather than old yet timeless, the former more likely to attract the awards those in these professions award one-another.

Northrop YB-49 in flight, California, 1952.

The aerodynamic properties of the “flying wing” have long intrigued aircraft designers.  The USAF (United State Air Force) even contemplated putting into production on of Northrop’s design but in the mid-1940s, needing a delivery system for its nuclear bombs which was a known, reliable quantity, opted instead for the Convair B-36 which they acknowledged was obsolescent but would provide a serviceable stop-gap until wings of the upcoming Boeing B-52 could be formed.  That doubtlessly was the correct decision and in the decades since, neither a military or civilian case has been made for the “flying wings”, the machines which have entered service really variations on the proven delta-wing concept but the big Northrop YB-49 & XB-35 possessed an undeniable beauty and it’s a shame all were scraped by 1953.  The air force personnel actually preferred to call them “bat bombers”.

Pith

Pith (pronounced pith)

(1) In botany, the soft, spongy central cylinder of parenchymatous tissue in the stems of dicotyledonous plants such as the soft, albedo, fibrous tissue lining the inside of the rind in fruits such as orange and grapefruit.  Also called medulla botany: the central core of unspecialized cells surrounded by conducting tissue in stems.

(2) In zoology, the soft inner part of a feather, a hair etc.

(3) By analogy, the important or essential part; essence; core; heart.

(4) Significant weight; substance; solidity.

(5) In pathology, the spinal cord or bone marrow (archaic).

(6) Strength, force, or vigor; mettle (archaic).

(7) In the veterinary sciences, to sever or destroy the spinal cord of a vertebrate animal, usually by inserting a needle into the vertebral canal.

(8) As pith hat or pith helmet, a type of headgear made from the fibre sholapith, worn by during the nineteenth century by European explorers and imperial administrators in Africa, Asia and the Middle East before being adopted by military officers, rapidly becoming a symbol of status or rank, latterly re-defined as a symbol of oppression, especially because of their association with the British Raj in the Indian sub-continent.

Pre 900:  Middle English from the Old English piþa or pitha from the Proto-Germanic piþô, cognate with the West Frisian piid (pulp, kernel), the Dutch peen (carrot) & pitt and the Low German peddik or pedik (pulp, core).  All were derived from the earlier piþō (oblique pittan), a doublet of pit.  Both the Old English piþa (pith of plants) and the Germanic variations enjoyed the same meaning but the figurative sense (most important part(s) of something) existed only in the English form.  The pith helmet dates from 1889, replacing the earlier pith hat (1884), both so called because they were made from the dried pith of the Bengal spongewood.  The verb meaning from the veterinary sciences "to kill by cutting or piercing the spinal cord" is first attested in 1805.

The Pith Helmet

The pith helmet, known also as the sun helmet, safari helmet, topi, topee, or sola topee is a lightweight cloth-covered piece of headgear made of the pith of the sola or shola (Indian spongewood) plant, covered with white cotton and faced with (often green) cloth.  Topee (pith helmet) was from the Hindi टोपी (ṭopī) (hat) and the Urdu ٹوپی‎ (ṭōpī) (hat).  The form has some linguistic overlap, the long -e phonetic suffix (variously and inconsistently as -e, -ie, -ee) often appended to create slang forms, affectionate diminutives or to indicate something was a smaller version of an original.  In Indian English for example, a coatee was a hook upon which one hangs one's coat, something unrelated to the original use in English where a coatee was a coat with short flaps, a mid-eighteenth century Americanism, the formation modeled on goatee, a style of beard at the time especially popular south of the Mason-Dixon Line.

Symbols of the Raj, the pith helmet and the G&T.

Most associated with the military and civil services of the European powers during the colonial period of the mid-nineteenth to mid-twentieth century, they were routinely issued to or chosen by those going to hot climates.  As a general principle, the army used dark colours and civilians light, even white helmets but under modern conditions, the military found them not suitable for the battlefield; the British Army withdrawing them from active use in 1948 although they continue to be worn on some ceremonial occasions although the famous plumed helmets are now seen less often.  Widely popular now only in Vietnam where it’s a remnant of French influence, its niche now is in the nostalgia-fashion industry although, as a symbol of white colonialism, use can be controversial.

George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936) with Lord Hardinge (1858–1944; Viceroy of India 1910-1916), Government House, Calcutta, 1911.  Of fashions under the Raj, the fictional depictions on screen where white linen suits often predominate can be misleading; pith helmets, especially during the cooler months, were paired with any daywear.  Until 1911, Calcutta (now Kolkata) was the capital of British India.

While First Lady, Melania Trump’s (b 1970) choice of clothing was often analysed in search of political meaning, a deconstruction her husband escaped except for the commentary about the length he chose to allow his ties to hang and those observations were more personal than political.  Mrs Trump as well aware of the media's interest and in October 2018, on safari near Nairobi, Kenya, wore a pith helmet, attracting criticism for donning a symbol of white colonial rule.

Presumably, even had she been unaware (which is unlikely), the White House would have spelled out the implications so the pith helmet was worn to be provocative and the reaction wouldn’t have been unexpected because a few weeks earlier, while visiting a migrant child detention centre, she choose a Zara jacket (US$39) emblazoned across the back with the words I REALLY DON'T CARE, DO U?.  Clearly a garment for a photo-opportunity, it was worn not while in the presence of the children but only when entering the aircraft and helicopter used for the trip.

The press of course sought comment which elicited from the White House the contradictory responses which typified the media-management of the Trump administration (something which under President Biden has if anything become more frequent and just as confused), the president saying it was a message to the “fake news media” while the first lady’s communications chief insisted it was “just a jacket” and that there was “no hidden message”.  Melania Trump herself later (sort of) clarified things, telling ABC News the jack “was a kind of message, yes”, adding that while it was obvious she “didn't wear the jacket for the children” and that it was donned only “to go on the plane and off the plane.... It was for the people and for the left-wing media who are criticizing me.  I want to show them I don't care. You could criticize whatever you want to say.  But it will not stop me to do what I feel is right.”

Mrs Trump went on to reiterate he own critique of the media for being "obsessed" about her clothing, noting it was only the jacket which attracted any attention rather than any matters to do with child detention or immigration more broadly: “I would prefer they would focus on what I do and on my initiatives than what I wear.”  It might seem curious a former model would express surprise at interest being taken in the clothes a woman wears but, well aware nothing can be done about that, she proved adept at weaponizing her messages than most of the White House staff ever managed.

Decapitate

Decapitate (pronounced dih-kap-i-teyt)

(1) To cut off the head; to behead.

(2) Figuratively, to oust or destroy the leadership or ruling body of a government, military formation, criminal organization etc.

1605–1615: From the fourteenth century French décapiter, from the Late Latin dēcapitātus, past participle of dēcapitāre, the construct being dē- + capit- (stem of caput (head), genitive capitis), from the Proto-Italic kaput, from the Proto-Indo-European káput- (head) + -ātus.  The Latin prefix dē- (off) was from the preposition dē (of, from); the Old English æf- was a similar prefix.  The Latin suffix -ātus was from the Proto-Italic -ātos, from the primitive Indo-European -ehtos.  It’s regarded as a "pseudo-participle" and perhaps related to –tus although though similar formations in other Indo-European languages indicate it was distinct from it already in early Indo-European times.  It was cognate with the Proto-Slavic –atъ and the Proto-Germanic -ōdaz (the English form being -ed (having).  The feminine form was –āta, the neuter –ātum and it was used to form adjectives from nouns indicating the possession of a thing or a quality.  The English suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  Decapitate, decapitated & decapitating are verbs, decapitation & decapitator are nouns.

Lindsay Lohan gardening with a lopper in her gloved hands, decapitation a less demanding path to destruction than deracination, New York City, May, 2015.  She appears to be relishing the task.

As a military strategy, the idea of decapitation is as old as warfare and based on the effective “cut the head off the snake”.  The technique of decapitation is to identify the leadership (command and control) of whatever structure or formation is hostile and focus available resources on that target.  Once the leadership has been eliminated, the effectiveness of the rest of the structure should be reduced and the idea is applied also in cyber warfare although in that field, target identification can be more difficult.  The military’s decapitation strategy is used by many included law enforcement bodies and can to some extent be applied in just about any form of interaction which involves conflicting interests.  The common English synonym is behead and that word may seem strange because it means “to take off the head” where the English word bejewel means “to put on the jewels”.  It’s because of the strange and shifting prefix "be-".  Behead was from the Middle English beheden, bihefden & biheveden, from the Old English behēafdian (to behead).  The prefix be- however evolved from its use in Old English.  In modern use it’s from the Middle English be- & bi-, from the Old English be- (off, away), from the Proto-Germanic bi- (be-), from the Proto-Germanic bi (near, by), the ultimate root the primitive Indo-European hepi (at, near) and cognate be- in the Saterland Frisian, the West Frisian, the Dutch, the German & Low German and the Swedish.  When the ancestors of behead were formed, the prefix be- was appended to create the sense of “off; away” but over the centuries it’s also invested the meanings “around; about” (eg bestir), “about, regarding, concerning” (eg bemoan), “on, upon, at, to, in contact with something” (eg behold), “as an intensifier” (eg besotted), “forming verbs derived from nouns or adjectives, usually with the sense of "to make, become, or cause to be" (eg befriend) & "adorned with something" (eg bejewel)).

A less common synonym is decollate, from the Latin decollare (to behead) and there’s also the curious adjective decapitable which (literally “able or fit to be decapitated”) presumably is entirely synonymous with “someone whose head has not been cut off” though not actually with someone alive, some corpses during the French Revolution being carted off to be guillotined, the symbolism of the seemingly superfluous apparently said to have been greeted by the mob "with a cheer".  Just as pleasing though less bloody were the Citroën cabriolets crafted between 1958-1974 by French coachbuilder Henri Chapron (1886-1978).

1971 Citroën DS21 Décapotable Usine.

Produced between 1955-1975, the sleek Citroën DS must have seemed something from science fiction to those accustomed to what was plying the roads outside but although it soon came to be regarded as something quintessentially French, the DS was actually designed by an Italian.  In this it was similar to French fries (invented in Belgium) and Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955; President of France 2007-2012), who first appeared on the planet the same year as the shapely DS and he was actually from here and there.  It was offered as the DS and the lower priced ID, the names a play on words, DS in French pronounced déesse (goddess) and ID idée (idea).  The goddess nickname caught on though idea never did.

Citroën Cabriolet d'Usine production count, 1960-1971.

Henri Chapron had attended the Paris Auto Salon when the DS made its debut and while Citroën had planned to offer a cabriolet, little had been done beyond some conceptual drawings and development resources were instead devoted to higher-volume variants, the ID (a less powerful DS with simplified mechanicals and less elaborate interior appointments) which would be released in 1957 and the Break (a station wagon marketed variously the Safari, Break, Familiale or Wagon), announced the next year.  Chapron claims it took him only a glance at the DS in display for him instantly to visualise the form his cabriolet would take but creating one proved difficult because such was the demand Citroën declined to supply a partially complete platform, compelling the coach-builder to secure a complete car from a dealer willing (on an undisclosed basis) to “bump” his name up the waiting list while he worked on the blueprints.  It wasn’t until 1958 Carrosserie Chapron presented their first DS cabriolet, dubbed La Croisette, named after the emblematic costal boulevard of Cannes and while initially it wasn’t approved by the factory (compelling Chapron to continue buying complete cars from dealers), it was obvious to Citroën’s engineers that they’d been presented with a shortcut to production.  Accordingly, Chapron designed a DS cabriolet suited to series production (as opposed to his bespoke creations) and that meant using the longer wheelbase platform of the Break, chosen because it was structurally enhanced to cope with the loads station wagons carry.  Beginning in 1960, these (in ID & DS versions) were the approved Cabriolets d'Usine, distributed until 1971 through Citroën’s dealer network, complete with a factory warranty.

1964 Citroën DW19 Décapotable Usine.

The DS and ID are well documented in the model's history but there was also the more obscure DW, built at Citroën's UK manufacturing plant in the Berkshire town Slough which sits in the Thames Valley, some 20 miles west of London.  The facility was opened in February 1926 as part of the Slough Trading Estate (opened just after World War I (1914-1918)) which was an early example of an industrial park, the place having the advantage of having the required infrastructure needed because constructed by the government for wartime production and maintenance activities.  Citroën was one of the first companies to be established on the site, overseas assembly prompted by the UK government's imposition of tariffs (33.3% on imported vehicles, excluding commercial vehicles) and the move had the added advantage of the right-hand-drive (RHD) cars being able to be exported throughout the British Empire under the “Commonwealth Preference” arrangements then in place.  Unlike similar operations, which in decades to come would appear world-wide, the Slough Citroëns were not assembled from CKD (completely knocked down) kits which needed only local labor to put them together but used a mix of imported parts and locally produced components.  The import tariff was avoided if the “local content” (labor and domestically produced (although those sourced from elsewhere in the empire could qualify) parts) reached a certain threshold (measured by the total value in local currency); it was an approach many governments would follow and elements of it exist even today as a means of encouraging (and protecting) local industries and creating employment.  People able to find jobs in places like Slough would have been pleased but for those whose background meant they were less concerned with something as tiresome as paid-employment, the noise and dirt of factories seemed just a scar upon the “green and pleasant land” of William Blake (1757–1827).  In his poem Slough (1937), Sir John Betjeman (1906–1984; Poet Laureate 1972-1984), perhaps recalling Stanley Baldwin's (1867–1947; UK prime-minister 1923-1924, 1924-1929 & 1935-1937) “The bomber will always get through” speech (1932) welcomed the thought, writing:  “Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!  It isn’t fit for humans now”  Within half a decade, the Luftwaffe would grant his wish.

1964 Citroën DS19 Décapotable Usine.

During World War II (1939-1945), the Slough plant was repurposed for military use and some 23,000 CMP (Canadian Military Pattern) trucks were built, civilian production resuming in 1946.  After 1955, Slough built both the ID and DS, the latter including the traditionally English leather trim and a wooden dashboard, a touch which some critics claimed was jarring among the otherwise modernist ambiance but the appeal was real because some French distributors imported the Slough dashboard parts for owners who liked the look.  The UK-built cars also used 12 volt Lucas electrics until 1963 and it was in that year the unique DW model was slotted in between the ID and DS.  Available only with a manual transmission and a simplified version of the timber veneer, the DW was configured with the ID's foot-operated clutch but used the more powerful DS engine, power steering and power brakes.  When exported, the DW was called DS19M and the "DW" label was applied simply because it was Citroën's internal code to distinguish (RHD) models built in the UK from the standard left-hand-drive (LHD) models produced in France.  Citroën assembly in Slough ended in February 1965 and although the factory initially retained the plant as a marketing, service & distribution centre, in 1974 these operations were moved to other premises and the buildings were taken over by Mars Confectionery.  Today no trace remains of the Citroën works in Slough.

1963 Citroën Le Dandy & 1964 Citroën Palm Beach by Carrosserie Chapron.

Citroën DS by Carrosserie Chapron production count. 

Demand was higher at a lower price-point, as Citroën's 1325 cabriolets indicate but Carrosserie Chapron until 1974 maintained output of his more exclusived an expensive lines although by the late 1960s, output, never prolific, had slowed to a trickle.  Chapron’s originals varied in detail and the most distinguishing difference between the flavors was in the rear coachwork, the more intricate being those with the "squared-off" (sometimes called "finned" or "fin-tailed") look, a trick Mercedes-Benz had in 1957 adopted to modernize the 300d (W189, 1957-1963, the so called "Adenauer Mercedes", named after Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany (the old West Germany) 1949-1963) who used several of the W186 (300, 300b, 300c, 1951-1957) & 300s models as his official state cars).  Almost all Chapron's customized DS models were built to special order between under the model names La Croisette, Le Paris, Le Caddy, Le Dandy, Concorde, Palm Beach, Le Léman, Majesty, & Lorraine; all together, 287 of these were delivered and reputedly, no two were exactly alike.

Citroën Concorde coupés by Chapron: 1962 DS 19 (left) and 1965 DS 21 (right).  The DS 21 is one of six second series cars, distinguished by their “squared-off” rear wing treatment and includes almost all the luxury options Chapron had on their list including electric windows, leather trim, the Jaeger instrument cluster, a Radiomatic FM radio with automatic Hirschmann antenna, the Robergel wire wheel covers and the Marchal auxiliary headlights.

Alongside the higher-volume Cabriolets d'Usine, Carrosserie Chapron continued to produce much more expensive décapotables (the Le Caddy and Palm Beach cabriolets) as well as limousines (the Majesty) and coupés, the most numerous of the latter being Le Dandy, some 50 of which were completed between 1960-1968.  More exclusive still was another variation of the coupé coachwork, the Concorde with a more spacious cabin notably for the greater headroom it afforded the rear passengers.  Only 38 were built over five years and at the time they cost as much as the most expensive Cadillac 75 Limousine.

The Citroën SM, a few of which were decapitated 

1972 Citroën SM (left) & 1971 Citroën SM Mylord by Carrosserie Chapron (right).  The wheels are the Michelin RR (roues en résine or résine renforcée (reinforced resin)) composites, cast using a patented technology invented by NASA for the original moon buggy.  The Michelin wheel was one-piece and barely a third the weight of the equivalent steel wheel but the idea never caught on, doubts existing about their long-term durability and susceptibility to extreme heat (the SM had inboard brakes).  

Upon release in 1971, immediately the Citroën SM was recognized as among the planet's most intricate and intriguing cars.  A descendant of the DS which in 1955 had been even more of a sensation, it took Citroën not only up-market but into a niche the SM had created, nothing quite like it previously existing, the combination of a large (in European terms), front-wheel-drive (FWD) luxury coupé with hydro-pneumatic suspension, self-centreing (Vari-Power) steering, high-pressure braking and a four-cam V6 engine, a mix unique in the world.  The engine had been developed by Maserati, one of Citroën’s recent acquisitions and the name acknowledged the Italian debt, SM standing for Systemé Maserati.  Although, given the size and weight of the SM, the V6 was of modest displacement to attract lower taxes (initially 2.7 litres (163 cubic inch)) and power was limited (181 HP (133 kW)) compared to the competition, such was the slipperiness of the body's aerodynamics that in terms of top speed, it was at least a match for most.

1973 Citroën SM with reproduction RR wheels in aluminium.

However, lacking the high-performance pedigree enjoy by some of that competition, a rallying campaign had been planned as a promotional tool.  Although obviously unsuited to circuit racing, the big, heavy SM didn’t immediately commend itself as a rally car; early tests indicated some potential but there was a need radically to reduce weight.  One obvious candidate was the steel wheels but attempts to use lightweight aluminum units proved abortive, cracking encountered when tested under rally conditions.  Michelin immediately offered to develop glass-fibre reinforced resin wheels, the company familiar with the material which had proved durable when tested under extreme loads.  Called the Michelin RR (roues resin (resin wheel)), the new wheels were created as a one-piece mold, made entirely of resin except for some embedded steel reinforcements at the stud holes to distribute the stresses.  At around 9.4 lb (4¼ kg) apiece, they were less than half the weight of a steel wheel and in testing proved as strong and reliable as Michelin had promised.  Thus satisfied, Citroën went rallying.

Citroën SM, Morocco Rally, 1971.

The improbable rally car proved a success, winning first time out in the 1971 Morocco Rally and further success followed.  Strangely, the 1970s proved an era of heavy cruisers doing well in the sport, Mercedes-Benz winning long-distance events with their 450 SLC 5.0 which was both the first V8 and the first car with an automatic transmission to win a European rally.  Stranger still, Ford in Australia re-purposed one of the Falcon GTHO Phase IV race cars which had become redundant when the programme was cancelled in 1972 and the thing proved surprisingly competitive during the brief periods it was mobile although the lack of suitable tyres meant repeatedly the sidewalls would fail; the car was written off after a serious crash.  The SM, GTHO & SLC proved a quixotic tilt and the sport went a different direction.  On the SM however, the resin wheels had proved their durability, not one failing during the whole campaign and encouraged by customer requests, Citroën in 1972 offered the wheels as a factory option although only in Europe; apparently the thought of asking the US federal safety regulators to approve plastic wheels (as they’d already been dubbed by the motoring press) seemed to the French so absurd they never bothered to submit an application.

1974 prototype Citroën SM with 4.0 V8.

Ambitious as it was, circumstances combined in a curious way that might have made the SM more remarkable still.  By 1973, sales of the SM, after an encouraging start had for two years been in decline, a reputation for unreliability already tarnishing its reputation but the first oil shock dealt what appeared to be a fatal blow; from selling almost 5000 in 1971, by 1974 production numbered not even 300.  The market for fast, thirsty cars had shrunk and most of the trans-Atlantic hybrids (combining elegant European coachwork with large, powerful and cheap US V8s), which had for more than a decade done good business as alternative to the highly strung British and Italian thoroughbreds, had been driven extinct.  Counter-intuitively, Citroën’s solution was to develop an even thirstier V8 SM and that actually made some sense because, in an attempt to amortize costs, the SM’s platform had been used as the basis for the new Maserati Quattroporte but, bigger and heavier still, performance was sub-standard and the theory was a V8 version would transform both and appeal to the US market, then the hope of many struggling European manufacturers.

Recreation of 1974 Citroën SM V8 prototype.

Citroën didn’t have a V8; Maserati did but it was big and heavy, a relic with origins in racing and while its (never wholly tamed) raucous qualities suited the character of the sports cars and saloons Maserati offered in the 1960s, it couldn’t be used in something like the SM.  However, the SM’s V6 was a 90^o unit and thus inherently better suited to an eight-cylinder configuration.  In 1974 therefore, a four litre (244 cubic inch) V8 based on the V6 (by then 3.0 litres (181 cubic inch)) was quickly built and installed in an SM which was subjected to the usual battery of tests over a reported 20,000 km (12,000 miles) during which it was said to have performed faultlessly.  Bankruptcy (to which the SM, along with some of the company's other ventures, notably the GZ Wankel programme, contributed) however was the death knell for both the SM and the V8, the prototype car scrapped while the unique engine was removed and stored, later used to create a replica of the 1974 test mule.

Evidence does however suggest a V8 SM would likely have been a failure, just compounding the existing error on an even grander scale.  It’s true that Oldsmobile and Cadillac had offered big FWD coupés with great success since the mid 1960s (the Cadillac at one point fitted with a 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 rated at 400 HP (300 kW)) but they were very different machines to the SM and appealed to a different market.  Probably the first car to explore what demand might have existed for a V8 SM was the hardly successful 1986 Lancia Thema 8•32 which used the Ferrari 2.9 litre (179 cubic inch) V8 in a FWD platform.  Although well-executed within the limitations the configuration imposed, it was about a daft an idea as it sounds.  Even had the V8 SM been all-wheel-drive (AWD) it would probably still have been a failure but it would now be remembered as a revolution ahead of its time.  As it is, the whole SM story is just another cul-de-sac, albeit one which has become a (mostly) fondly-regarded cult.

State Citroëns by Carrosserie Chapron: 1968 Citroën DS state limousine (left) and 1972 Citroën SM Présidentielle (right).

In the summer of 1971, after years of slowing sales, Citroën announced the end of the décapotable usine and Chapron’s business model suffered, the market for specialized coach-building, in decline since the 1940s, now all but evaporated.  Chapron developed a convertible version of Citroën’s new SM called the Mylord but, very expensive, it was little more successful than the car on which it was based; although engineered to Chapron’s high standard, fewer than ten were built.  Government contracts did for a while seem to offer hope.  Charles De Gaulle (1890–1970; President of France 1958-1969) had been aghast at the notion the state car of France might be bought from Germany or the US (it’s not known which idea he thought most appalling and apparently nobody bothered to suggest buying British) so, at his instigation, Chapron (apparently without great enthusiasm) built a long wheelbase DS Presidential model.

Size matters: Citroën DS Le Presidentielle (left) and LBJ era stretched Lincoln Continental by Lehmann-Peterson of Chicago (right).

Begun in 1965, the project took three years, legend having it that de Gaulle himself stipulated little more than it be longer than the stretched Lincoln Continentals then used by the White House (John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) assassinated in Continental X-100 modified by Hess and Eisenhardt) and this was achieved, despite the requirement the turning circle had to be tight enough to enter the Elysée Palace’s courtyard from the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and then pull up at the steps in a single maneuver.  Delivered just in time for the troubles of 1968, the slinky lines were much admired in the Élysée and in 1972, Chapron was given a contract to supply two really big four-door convertible (Le Presidentielle) SMs as the state limousines for Le Général’s successor, Georges Pompidou (1911–1974; President of France 1969-1974).  First used for 1972 state visit of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), they remained in regular service until the inauguration of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) in 1995, seen again on the Champs Elysees in 2004 during Her Majesty’s three-day state visit marking the centenary of the Entente Cordiale.

1972 Citroën SM Opera by Carrosserie Chapron (left) & 1973 Maserati Quattroporte II (right).

However, state contracts for the odd limousine, while individually lucrative, were not a model to sustain a coach building business and a year after the Mylord was first displayed, Chapron inverted his traditional practice and developed from a coupé, a four-door SM called the Opera.  On a longer wheelbase, stylistically it was well executed but was heavy and both performance and fuel consumption suffered, the additional bulk also meaning some agility was lost.  Citroën was never much devoted to the project because they had in the works what was essentially their own take on a four-door SM, sold as the Maserati Quattroporte II (the Italian house having earlier been absorbed) but as things transpired in those difficult years, neither proved a success, only eight Operas and a scarcely more impressive thirteen Quattroporte IIs ever built.  The French machine deserved more, the Italian knock-off, probably not.  In 1974, Citroën entered bankruptcy, dragged down in part by the debacle which the ambitious SM had proved to be although there had been other debacles worse still.   Four years later, Henri Chapron died in Paris, his much down-sized company lingering on for some years under the direction of his industrious widow, the bulk of its work now customizing Citroën CXs.  Operations ceased in 1985 but the legacy is much admired and the décapotables remain a favorite of collectors and film-makers searching for something with which to evoke the verisimilitude of 1960s France.

Judith and the decapitation of Holofernes

In the Bible, the deuterocanonical books (literally “belonging to the second canon”) are those books and passages traditionally regarded as the canonical texts of the Old Testament, some of which long pre-date Christianity, some composed during the “century of overlap” before the separation between the Christian church and Judaism became institutionalized.  As the Hebrew canon evolved, the seven deuterocanonical books were excluded and on this basis were not included in the Protestant Old Testament, those denominations regarding them as apocrypha and they’re been characterized as such since.  Canonical or not, the relationship of the texts to the New Testament has long interested biblical scholars, none denying that links exist but there’s wide difference in interpretation, some finding (admittedly while giving the definition of "allusion" wide latitude) a continuity of thread, others only fragmentary references and even then, some paraphrasing is dismissed as having merely a literary rather than historical or theological purpose.

Le Retour de Judith à Béthulie (The Return of Judith to Bethulia) (1470) by Botticelli, (circa 1444-1510).

The Book of Judith exists thus in the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Old Testaments but is assigned (relegated some of the hard-liners might say) by Protestants to the apocrypha.  It is the tale of Judith (יְהוּדִית in the Hebrew and the feminine of Judah), a legendarily beautiful Jewish widow who uses her charms to lure the Assyrian General Holofernes to his gruesome death (decapitated by her own hand) so her people may be saved.  As a text, the Book of Judith is interesting in that it’s a genuine literary innovation, a lengthy and structured thematic narrative evolving from the one idea, something different from the old episodic tradition of loosely linked stories.  That certainly reflects the influence of Hellenistic literary techniques and the Book of Judith may be thought a precursor of the historical novel: A framework of certain agreed facts upon a known geography on which an emblematic protagonist (Judith the feminine form of the national hero Judah) performs.  The atmosphere of crisis and undercurrent of belligerence lends the work a modern feel while theologically, it’s used to teach the importance of fidelity to the Lord and His commandments, a trust in God and how one must always be combative in defending His word.  It’s not a work of history, something made clear in the first paragraph; this is a parable.

Judit decapitando a Holofernes (Judith Beheading Holofernes) (circa 1600) by Caravaggio (Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1571–1610).

The facts of the climactic moment in the decapitation of General Holofernes are not in dispute, Judith at the appropriate moment drawing the general’s own sword, beheading him as he lay recumbent, passed out from too much drink.  Deed done, the assassin dropped the separated head in a leather basket and stole away.  The dramatic tale for centuries has attracted painters and sculptors, the most famous works created during the high Renaissance and Baroque periods and artists have tended to depict either Judith acting alone or in the company of her aged maid, a difference incidental to the murder but of some significance in the interpretation of preceding events.

Judit si presenta a Holofernes (Judith Presenting Herself to Holofernes) (circa 1724) by Antonio Gionima (1697–1732).

All agree the picturesque widow was able to gain access to the tent of Holofernes because of the general’s carnal desires but in the early centuries of Christianity, there’s little hint that Judith resorted to the role of seductress, only that she lured him to temptation, plied him with drink and struck.  The sexualization of the moment came later and little less controversial was the unavoidable juxtaposition of the masculine aggression of the blade-wielding killer with her feminine charms.  Given the premise of the tale and its moral imperative, the combination can hardly be avoided but it was for centuries disturbing to (male) theologians and priests, rarely at ease with bolshie women.  It was during the high Renaissance that artists began to vest Judith with an assertive sexuality (“from Mary to Eve” in the words of one critic), her features becoming blatantly beautiful, the clothing more revealing.  The Judith of the Renaissance and the Baroque appears one more likely to surrender her chastity to the cause where once she would have relied on guile and wine.

Judith (1928) by Franz von Stuck (1863–1928).

It was in the Baroque period that the representations more explicitly made possible the mixing of sex and violence in the minds of viewers, a combination that across media platforms remains today as popular as ever.  For centuries “Judith beheading Holofernes” was one of the set pieces of Western Art and there were those who explored the idea with references to David & Goliath (another example of the apparently weak decapitating the strong) or alluding to Salome, showing Judith or her maid carrying off the head in a basket.  The inventiveness proved not merely artistic because, in the wake of the ruptures caused by the emergent Protestant heresies, in the counter-attack by the Counter-Reformation, the parable was re-imagined in commissions issued by the Holy See, Judith’s blade defeating not only Assyrian oppression but all unbelievers, heretical Protestants just the most recently vanquished.  Twentieth century artists too have used Judith as a platform, predictably perhaps sometimes to show her as the nemesis of toxic masculinity and some have obviously enjoyed the idea of an almost depraved sexuality but there have been some quite accomplished versions.