Lettrism

Lettrism (pronounced let-riz-uhm)

A French avant-garde art and literary movement established in 1946 and inspired, inter alia, by Dada and surrealism.  The coordinate term is situationism.

1946: From French lettrisme, a variant of lettre (letter).  Letter dates from the late twelfth century and was from the From Middle English letter & lettre, from the Old French letre, from the Latin littera (letter of the alphabet (in plural); epistle; literary work), from the Etruscan, from the Ancient Greek διφθέρᾱ (diphthérā) (tablet) (and related to diphtheria).  The form displaced the Old English bōcstæf (literally “book staff” in the sense of “the alphabet’s symbols) and ǣrendġewrit (literally “message writing” in the sense of “a written communication longer than a “note” (ie, something like the modern understanding of “a letter”)).  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  Letterism is listed by some sources as an alternative spelling but in literary theory it used in a different sense.  Lettrism and lettrist are nouns; the noun plural is letterists.

Letter from letterist Lindsay Lohan (2003).

A Lettrist was (1) one who practiced Lettrism or (2) a supporter or advocate of Lettrism.  Confusingly, in the English-speaking world, the spelling Letterist has been used in this context, presumably because it’s a homophone (if pronounced in the “correct (U)” way) and the word is “available” because although one who keeps as diary is a “diarist”, even the most prolific of inveterate letter writers are not called “letterists”.  The preferred term for a letter-writer is correspondent, especially for those who writes letters regularly or in an official capacity.  The Letterist International (LI) was a Paris-based collective of radical artists and cultural theorists which existed 1952-1957 before forming the Situationist International (SI), a trans-European, unstructured collective of artists and political thinkers which eventually became more a concept than a movement.  Influenced by the criticism that philosophy had tended increasingly to fail at the moment of its actualization, the SI, although it assumed the inevitability of social revolution, always maintained many (cross-cutting) strands of expectations of the form(s) this might take.  Indeed, just as a world-revolution did not follow the Russian revolutions of 1917, the events of May, 1968 failed to realize the predicted implications; the SI can be said then to have died.  The SI’s discursive output between 1968 and 1972 may be treated either as a lifeless aftermath to an anti-climax or a bunch of bitter intellectuals serving as mourners at their own protracted funeral.  In literary theory, while “Lettrism” has a defined historical meaning, the use of “letterism” is vague and not a recognized term although it has informally been used (often with some degree of irony) of practices emphasizing the use of letters or alphabetic symbols in art or literature and given the prevalence of text of a symbolic analogue in art since the early twentieth century, it seem surprising “letterism” isn’t more used in criticism.  That is of course an Anglo-centric view of things because the French Lettrists themselves are said to prefer the spelling “Letterism”.

Jacques Derrida deconstructing some tobacco.

The French literary movement Lettrism was founded in Paris in 1946 and the two most influential figures in the early years were the Romanian-born French poet, film maker and political theorist Isidore Isou (1925–2007) and his long-term henchman, the French poet, & writer Maurice Lemaître (1926-2018).  Western Europe was awash with avant-garde movements in the early post-war years but what distinguished Lettrism was its focus on breaking down (deconstruction was not yet a term used in this sense) traditional language and meaning by emphasizing the materiality of letters and sounds rather than conventionally-assembled words.  Scholars of linguistics and the typographic community had of course long made a study of letters, their form, variation and origin, but in Lettrism it was less about the letters as objects than the act of dismantling the structures of language letters created, the goal being the identification (debatably the creation) of new forms of meaning through pure sound, visual abstraction and the aesthetic form of letters.  Although influenced most by Dada and surrealism, the effect the techniques of political propaganda used during the 1930s & 1940s was noted by the Lettrists and their core tenent was an understanding of the letter itself as the fundamental building block of art and literature.  Often they would break down language into letters or phonetic sounds, assessing and deploying them for their aesthetic or auditory qualities rather than their conventional meaning(s).  In that sense the Lettrists can be seen as something as precursor of post-modernism’s later “everything is text” orthodoxy although that too has an interesting origin.  The French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) made famous the phrase “Il n'y a pas de hors-texte” which often is translated as something like “there is no meaning beyond the text” but “hors-texte” (outside the text) was printers’ jargon for those parts of a book without regular page numbers (blank pages, copyright page, table of contents et al) and Derrida’s point actually was the hors-texte must be regardes as a part of the text.  There was much intellectual opportunism in post modernism and for their own purposes it suited may to assert what Derrida said was “There is nothing outside the text” and what he meant was “everything is part of a (fictional) text and nothing is real” whereas his point was it’s not possible to create a rule rigidly which delineates what is “the text” and what is “an appendage to the text”.  Troublingly for some post modernists, Derrida did proceed on a case-by-case basis although he seems not to have explained how the meaning of the text in an edition of a book with an appended "This page is intentionally left blank" page might differ from one with no such page although it may be some earnest student of post-modernism has written an essay convincingly exactly that.

The Lettrism project was very much a rejection of traditional language structures and the meanings they denoted; it was a didactic endeavor, the Lettrists claiming not only had they transcended conventional grammar & syntax but they could obviate even a need for meaning in words, their work a deliberate challenge to their audiences to rethink how language functions.  As might be imagined, their output was “experimental” and in addition to some takes on the ancient form of “pattern poetry” included what they styled “concrete poetry” & “phonetic poetry”, visual art and performance pieces which relied on abstraction, the most enduring of which was the “hypergraphic”, an object sometimes describe as “picture writing” which combined letters, symbols, and images, blending visual and textual elements into a single art form, often as collages or as graphic-like presentations on canvas or paper.  This wasn’t a wholly new concept but the lettrists vested it with new layers of meaning which, at least briefly, intrigued many although it was dismissed also as “visual gimmickry” or that worst of insults in the avant-garde: “derivative”.  Despite being one of the many footnotes in the history of modern art, Lettrism never went away and in a range of artistic fields, even today there are those who style themselves “lettrists” and the visual clues of the movement’s influence are all around us.

Chrysler’s letterism: The Chrysler 300 “letter series” 1955-1965.

The “letter series” Chrysler 300s were produced in limited numbers in the US between 1955-1965; technically, they were the high-performance version of the luxury Chrysler New Yorker and the first in 1955 was labeled C-300, an allusion to the 300 horsepower (HP) (220 kW) 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi V8, then the most powerful engine offered in a production car.  The C-300 was well received and when an updated version was released in 1956, it was dubbed 300B, the annual releases appending the next letter in the alphabet as a suffix although in 1963 “I” was skipped when the 300H was replaced by the 300J, the rationale being it might be confused with a “1” (ie the numeral “one”), the same reasoning explaining why there are so few “I cup” bras, some manufacturers filling the gap in the market between “H cup” & “J cup” with a “HH cup” but there’s no evidence the corporation’s concerns ever prompted them to ponder a “300HH”.  Retrospectively thus, the 1955 C-300 is often described as the 300A although this was never an official factory designation.  While in the narrow technical sense not a part of the “muscle car” lineage (defined by the notion of putting a “big” car’s “big” engine into a smaller, lighter model), the letter series cars were an important part of the “power race” of the 1950s and an evolutionary step in what would emerge in 1964 as the muscle car branch and the most plausible LCA (last common ancestor) of both was the Buick Century (1936-1942).  The letter series was retired after 1965 because the market preference for high-performance car had shifted to the smaller, lighter, pony cars & intermediates (neither of which existed in the early years of the 300) though the “non letter series” 300s (introduced in 1962) continued until 1971 with a toned-down emphasis on speed and a shift to style.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (300A).

The 1955 C-300 typified Detroit’s “mix & match” approach to the parts bin in that it conjured something “new” at relatively low cost, combining the corporation’s most powerful Hemi V8 with the New Yorker Series (C-68) platform, the visual differentiation achieved by using the front bodywork (the “front clip” in industry jargon) from the top-of-the-range Imperial.  The justification for the existence of the thing was to fulfill the homologation requirements of NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) that a certain number of various components be sold to the public before a car could be defined as a “production” car (ie a “stock” car, a term which shamelessly would be prostituted in the years to come) and used in sanctioned competition.  Accordingly, the C-300 was configured with the 331 cubic inch Hemi V8 fitted, with dual four barrel carburetors, solid valve lifters and a high-lift camshaft profiled for greater top-end power.  Better to handle the increased power, stiffer front and rear suspension was used and it was very much in the tradition of the big, powerful grand-touring cars of the 1930s such as the Duesenberg SJ, something that with little modification could be competitive on the track.  Very successful in NASCAR racing, the C-300 also set a number of speed records in timed trials but it was very much a niche product; despite the price not being excessive for what one got, only 1,725 were made but for an expensive car which even Chrysler's engineers admitted "had a ride like a truck" due to the stiff suspension, it was encouragement enough to schedule a 300B for the 1956 season.

1956 Chrysler 300B (left) and Highway Hi-Fi phonograph player (right).

The 300B used a updated version of the C-300s body so visually the two were similar although, ominously, the tailfins did reach a little higher.  The big news however lay under the hood (bonnet) with the Hemi V8 enlarged to 354 cubic inches (5.8 litres) and available either with 340 (HP) (254 kW) or in a high- compression version generating 355 (365), the first time a US-built automobile was advertised as producing greater than one HP per cubic inch of displacement.  It was a sign of the times; other manufacturers took note.  The added power meant a top speed of around 140 mph (225 km/h) could be attained, something now to ponder given the retardative qualities of the braking system but also of note was the season's much talked-about option: the "Highway Hi-Fi" phonograph player which allowed vinyl LP records to be played when the car was on the move; the sound quality was remarkably good but on less than smooth surfaces, experiences were mixed.  Success on the track continued, the 300B wining the Daytona Flying Mile with a new record of 139.373 MPH, and it again dominated NASCAR, repeating the C-300’s Grand National Championship.  Despite that illustrious record, only 1,102 were sold.

1955 Chrysler C-300 (top left), 1970 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (top right), Rover 3.5 Coupé (bottom left) and Rover 3.5 Saloon (bottom right).

On sale only in 1955-1956, the restrained lines of Chrysler’s elegant “Forward Look” range didn’t last long in the US as extravagance overtook Detroit but the influence endured longer in Europe, both the Mercedes-Benz W111 (1961-1971) & W112 Coupé (1962-1967) and the Rover P5 (1958-1967) & P5B (1967-1973) interpreting the shape.  The Rover was a tale of two rooflines: the “Establishment” Saloon and the rakish Coupé.

1957 Chrysler 300C.

The 1955-1956 Chryslers had a balance and elegance of line which could have remained a template for the industry but there were other possibilities and these Detroit choose to pursue, creating a memorable era of extravagance but one which proved a stylistic cul-de-sac.  The 1957 300C undeniably was dramatic and featured many of the motifs so associated with the US automobile of the late 1950s including the now (mostly) lawful quad-headlights, the panoramic “Vista-Dome” windshield, lashings of chrome and, of course, those tailfins.  The Hemi V8 was again enlarged, now in a “tall deck” version out to 392 cubic inches (6.4 litres) rated at 375 HP (280 kW) and for the first time a convertible version was available.  By now the power race was being run in earnest with General Motors (GM) offering fuel-injected engines and Mercury solving the problem in the traditional American (there’s no replacement for displacement) way by releasing a 430 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8 although it was so big and heavy it made the bulky Hemi seem something of a lightweight; the 430 did however briefly find a niche in in power-boat racing.  For 300C owners who wanted more there was also a high-compression version with more radical valve timing rated at 390 HP (290 kW) and this was for the first time able to be ordered with a three-speed manual transmission.  Few apparently felt the need for more and of the 2,402 300Cs sold (1,918 coupes & 484 convertibles), only 18 were ordered in high-compression form.

1958 Chrysler 300D.

Again using the Hemi 392, now tuned for a standard 380 HP (280 kW), there was for the first time the novelty of the optional Bendix “Electrojector” fuel injection, which raised output to a nominal 390 HP (290 kW) although its real benefit was the consistency of fuel delivery, overcoming the starvation encountered sometimes under extreme lateral load.  Unfortunately, the analogue electronics of the era proved unequal to the task and the unreliability was both chronic and insoluble, thus almost all the 21 fuel-injected cars were retro-fitted with the stock dual-quad induction system and it’s believed only one 300D retains its original Bendix plumbing.  Also rare was the take-up rate for the manual transmission option and interestingly, both the two known 300Ds so equipped were ordered originally with carburetors rather than fuel injection.  The engineers also secured one victory over the stylists.  After testing on the proving grounds determined the distinctive, forward jutting “eyebrow” header atop the windscreen reduced top speed by 5 mph (8 km/h), they managed to convince management to authorize an expensive change to the tooling, standardizing the convertible’s compound-curved type “bubble windshield”, a then rare triumph of function over fashion.  Although the emphasis of the letter series cars was shifting from the track to the roads, the things genuinely still were fast and one (slightly modified) 300D was set a new class record of 156.387 mph (251.681 km/h) on the Bonneville Salt Flats.  Production declined to 810 units (619 coupes & 191 convertibles).

1959 Chrysler 300E.

With the coming of the 1959 range, the Hemi was retired and replaced by a new 413 cubic inch (6.8 litre) V8 with wedge-shaped combustion chambers.  Lighter by some 100 lb (45 kg) and cheaper to produce than the Hemi with its demanding machining requirements and intricate valve train, the additional displacement allowed power output to be maintained at 380 HP (280 kW) while torque (something more significant for what most drivers on the street do most of the time actually increased).  The manual transmission option was also deleted with no market resistance and despite the lower production costs, the price tag rose, something probably more of a factor in the declining sales than the loss of the much vaunted Hemi and, like the 300D (and most of the rest of the industry) the year before, the economy was suffering in the relatively brief but sharp recession and Chrysler probably did well to shift 390 units (550 coupes & 140 convertibles).

1960 Chrysler 300F (left) and 300F engine with Sonoramic intake in red (right).

Although the rococo styling cues remained, underneath now lay radical modernity, the corporation’s entire range (except for exclusive Imperial line) switching from ladder frame to unitary construction.  The stylists however indulged themselves with more external flourishes, allowing the tailfins an outward canter, culminating sharply in a point and housing boomerang-shaped taillights.  Even the critics of such things found it a pleasing look although they were less impressed by the faux spare tire cover (complete with an emulated wheel cover!) on the trunk (boot), dubbing it the “toilet seat”.  The interior though was memorable with four individual bucket in leather with a center console between extending the cockpit’s entire length and there was also Chrysler’s intriguing electroluminescent instrument display which, rather than being lit with bulbs, exploited a phenomenon in which a material emits light in response to an electric field; the ethereal glow was much admired.  Buyers in 1959 may have felt regret in not seeing a Hemi in the engine bay, but after lifting the hood of a 300F they wouldn’t have been disappointed because, in designer colors (gold, silver, blue & red) sat the charismatic “Sonoramic” intake manifold, a “cross-ram” system which placed the carburetors at the sides of engine, connected by long tubular runners.  What the physics of this did was provide a short duration “supercharging” effect, tuned for the mid-range torque most used when overtaking at freeway speeds.  Also built were a handful of “short ram” Sonoramics which had the tubes (actually with the same length) re-tuned to deliver top-end power rather than mid-range torque.  Rated at a nominal 400 (300 kW) HP, these could be fitted also with the French-built Pont-a-Mousson 4-speed manual transmission used in the Chrysler V8-powered Facel Vega and existed only for the purpose of setting records, six 300Fs so equipped showing up at the 1960 Dayton Speed Week where they took the top six places in the event’s signature Flying Mile, crossing the traps at between 141.5-144.9 mph (227.7-233.3 km/h).  The market responded and sales rose to 1217 (969 & 248 convertibles) and the 300F (especially those with the “short ram” Sonoramics) is the most collectable of the letter series.

1961 Chrysler 300G.

The 300G gained canted headlights, another of those styling fads of the 1950s & 1960s which quickly became passé but now seem a charming period piece.  There was the usual myriad of detail changes the industry in those days dreamed up each season, usually for no better reason that to be “different” from last year’s model and thus be able to offer something “new”.  As well as the slanted headlights, the fins became sharper still and taillights were moved.  Mechanically, the specification substantially was unaltered, the Sonoramic plumbing carried over although the expensive, imported Pont-a-Mousson transmission was removed from the option list, replaced by Chrysler’s own heavy-duty 3-speed manual unit, the demand for which was predictably low.  The lack of a fourth cog didn’t impede the 300G’s performance in that year’s Daytona Flying Mile where one would again take the title with a mark of 143 mph (230.1 km/h) and to prove the point a stock standard model won the one mile acceleration title.  People must have liked the headlights because production reached 1617 units (1,280 coupes & 337 convertibles).

1962 Chrysler 300H.

Perhaps a season or two too late, Chrysler “de-finned” its whole range, prompting their designer (Virgil Exner (1909–1973)) to lament his creations now resembled “plucked chickens”.  For 1962 the 300 name also lost some of its exclusivity with the addition to the range of the 300 Sport series (offered also with four-door bodywork) and to muddy the waters further, much of what was fitted to the 300H could be ordered as an option on the basic 300 so externally, but for the distinctive badge, there was visually little to separate the two.  Mechanically, the “de-contenting” which the accountants had begun to impose as the industry chase higher profits (short-term strategies to increase “shareholder value” are nothing new) was felt as the Sonoramic induction system moved to the 300H’s option list with the inline dual 4-barrel carburetor setup last seen on the 300E now standard.  With the in-line carburetors, the 413 was rated at 380 HP; this rose to 405 when the Sonoramic option was chosen.  Because of weight savings gained by the adoption of a shorter wheelbase platform, the specific performance numbers of 300H actually slightly shaded its predecessor but the cannibalizing of the 300 name and the public perception the thing’s place in the hierarchy was no longer so exalted saw sales decline to 570 (435 coupes & 135 convertibles), the worst year to date.  The magic of the 300 name however seemed to work because Chrysler in the four available body styles (2 door convertible, 2 & 4 door hardtop & 4 door sedan) sold 25,578 of the 300 Sport series, exceeding expectations.  Since 1962, the verbal shorthand to distinguished between the ranges has been “letter series” and “non letter series” cars.

1963 Chrysler 300J.

Presumably in an attempt to atone for past sins, a spirit of rectilinearism washed through Chrysler’s design office while the 1963 range was being prepared and it would persist until the decade’s end when new sins would be committed.  Unrelated to that was the decision to skip a 300I because of concerns it might be read as the wholly numeric 3001.  The de-contenting (now an industry trend) continued with the swivel feature for the front bucket seats deleted while full-length centre console was truncated at the front compartment with the rear seat now a less eye-catching bench.  The 413 V8 was offered in a single configuration but the Sonoramics were again standard and the three-speed manual transmission remained optional, seven buyers actually ticking the box. The 300J was still a fast car, capable of a verified 142 mph (229 km/h) although the weight and gearing conspired against acceleration but a standing quarter mile (400 m) ET (elapsed time) of 15.8 was among the quickest of the cars in its class.  Still, it did seem the end of the series might be nigh with the convertible no longer offered and the sales performance reflected the feeling, only 400 coupes leaving the showrooms.

The BUFF: The new version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (replacing the B-52H) will be the B-52J, not B-52I or B-52HH.   

Like Chrysler and most bra manufacturers, the US Air Force also opted to skip “I” when allocating a designation for the updated version of the Boeing B-52 Stratofortress (1952-1962 and still in service).  Between the first test flight of the B-52A in 1954 and the B-52H entering service in 1962, the designations B-52B, B-52C, B-52D, B-52E, B-52F & B-52G sequentially had been used but after flirting with whether to use B52J as an interim designation (reflecting the installation of enhanced electronic warfare systems) before finalizing the series as the B-52K after new engines were fitted, in 2024 the USAF announced the new line would be the B-52J and only a temporary internal code would distinguish those not yet re-powered.  Again, the “I” was not used so nobody would think there was a B521.  Although the avionics, digital displays and ability to carry Hypersonic Attack Cruise Missile (HACM, a scramjet-powered weapon capable exceeding Mach 5) are the most significant changes for the B-52J, visually, it will be the replacement of the old Pratt & Whitney TF33 engines with new Rolls-Royce F130 units which will be most obvious, the F130 promising improvements in fuel efficiency of some 30% as well as reduction in noise and exhaust emissions.  Already in service for 70 years, apparently no retirement date for the B-52 has yet been pencilled-in.  In USAF (US Air Force) slang, the B-52 is the BUFF (the acronym for big ugly fat fellow or big ugly fat fucker depending on who is asking).  From BUFF was derived the companion acronym for the LTV A-7 Corsair II (1965-1984, the last in active service retired in 2014) which was SLUFF (Short Little Ugly Fat Fellow or Short Little Ugly Fat Fucker).

1964 Chrysler 300K.

Selling in 1963 only 400 examples of what was intended as one of the corporations “halo” cars triggered management to engage in what Americans had come to call an “agonizing reappraisal”.  The conclusion drawn was the easiest way to stimulate demand was to lower the basic entry price to ownership of the name and if buyers really wanted the fancy stuff once fitted as standard, they could order it from an option list; it was essentially the same approach as used for most of Chrysler’s other ranges.  That was made possible by the use of main-frame computers in a system which translated (1) the boxes (ticked in ink) on a dealer's order form, (2) via the fingers of a data-entry clerk (the trade an early victim of what would evolve into AI (artificial intelligence)) onto, (3) a punch card which would send, (4) the structured data to a dot-matrix printer which would generate, (5) a "build-sheet".  It was each car's build-sheet which listed all its options and from this it was configured as it moved along the production-line.  Accordingly, in this brave new world, leather trim and many power accessories joined air-conditioning in being consigned to the option list.  The system worked but that success ultimately was the cause of its demise.  As well as generating individual build sheets, once aggregated, all this information formed a big "data set" which meant there could be "data analysts" employed.  What these walking pocket calculators worked out was it was possible to predict much of what would be ticked on the dealers' order forms and it was thus more profitable to produce runs with certain "bundles" of options and sell it as a model line, the classic example of the 1970s & 1980s the many "executive" packages which included power-steering, automatic transmission and air-conditioning.    

The 300K's base engine was now fitted with a single four barrel carburetor although for an additional US$375, the dual-quad Sonoramic could be ordered and combined with Chrysler’s new, robust four-speed manual transmission.  Surprising some observers, the convertible coachwork made a return to the catalogue.  All that meant the 300K could be advertised for US$1000 less than the 300J and the market responded in a text book example of price elasticity of demand, production spiking to 3647 (3,022 coupes & 625 convertibles), 84 of which were fitted with the four speed manual gearbox (50 hard tops & 34 convertibles, the latter number higher than many might have expected).  Although the basic engineering remained sound, stylistically, the whole range suffered because the lines lacked the flair of what GM was offering .  

1965 Chrysler 300L (four speed manual).

Despite the stellar sales of the 300K, even before the release of the 300L, the decision had been taken it would be the last of the letter series.  The tastes of those who wanted high performance had shifted to the smaller, lighter pony cars and intermediates, neither segment envisaged when the C-300 had made its debut a decade earlier.  Additionally, the letter series had outlived its usefulness as a corporate image-maker now they were no longer the fastest in the fleet and production-line rationalization meant it was easier and more profitable to maintain a single 300 line and allow buyers to choose their own mix of options; in other words, after 1965, it would still be possible to create a 300 in the spirit of the letter cars in most aspects except the badge and the now departed Sonoramics of fond memory.  When the last 300L was produced it was configured with a single four barrel carburetor and few would have noticed the differences between it and most other 300s.  The lower price though continued to attract buyers and in its final year 2845 were sold (2,405 coupes & 440 convertibles) and a perhaps surprising 96 (or possibly 98) buyers opted for the four-speed manual but on the full-sized lines the configuration approaching extinction after a brief life; the 1970 Ford XL would be the last of such machines listed with the option.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

There was an unexpected coda to the 300 letter series.  Although “surprise” is sometimes a tactic in marketing, what was strange about the release of the Chrysler 300-Hurst (introduced in February 1970 at the Chicago Auto Show) was it being a surprise to the dealers parking it in their showrooms.  Improbable as it sounds for a product released in the citadel of modern capitalism, the accepted orthodoxy is the management at Chrysler and Hurst both believed the other corporation would be handing the promotion so consequently, none was ever done.  Given the market dynamics of the time, it’s debatable whether advertising would much have stimulated demand for such a machine and as things worked out, only some 500 were built, the model never replaced.  In the era, there was little consistency in how the thing was discussed with publications variously using “300H”, “300 Hurst” and “Hurst 300” but the preferred use now seems to be “300-H” to distinguish it from the original 300H of 1962.  Based on the Chrysler 300 built on the corporate C-Body (with the so called “fuselage” coachwork introduced for the 1969 season) conceptually, the 300-H was very much in the letter-series tradition and featured the combination of a more powerful version of the 440 cubic inch (7.2 litre) V8 (rated at 375 (gross) HP in a dual-exhaust configuration), the TorqueFlite (727) automatic transmission and the opulent leather interior from the Imperial line.  Although often listed as a footnote, purists decline to include the 300-H in the letter-series lineage.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).  The leather trim and power-adjustable seats came from the Imperial line.

All were finished in Spinnaker White with Satin Tan color accents & Medium Brown pin-striping, the H70–15 Goodyear Polyglas tyres mounted on 15 x 6-inch wheels in Saturn Iridescent paint.  Although the high (numerically low; the final-drive ratio a conservative 3.23) gearing was indicative of a machine was built for high-speed cruising on the freeways rather than ¼ mile runs along a drag-strip, there were a few visual clues borrowed from muscle car genre, each 300-H equipped with a fibreglass hood which included the then-fashionable “power bulge” in the centre and a rear-mounted fresh air intake although unlike the muscle cars, this fed cold air not to the engine but the passenger compartment.  The trunk lid (“rear-deck” in US terminology) was also a fibreglass piece which included an integrated spoiler (then referred to usually as an “airfoil”).  The fibreglass mouldings were fabricated by two different companies and although the hoods were well-engineered, the rear decks lacked the internal stiffening required by a panel of such size and over time proved prone to deformation, the warping most severe if sitting for any length of time in heat.

1970 Chrysler 300-H (300 Hurst).

By 1970, the 300-H must have seemed anachronistic because the market for high-performance variants of full-sized cars had evaporated as buyer preferences switched to the smaller intermediates and pony cars, by then available with the biggest, most powerful power-plants in Detroit’s inventory.  GM had withdrawn from the segment and although Ford listed the option of a four-speed manual gearbox for big XLs with 429 cubic inch (7.0 litre), none were ever built while the 1969 Mercury Marauder X-100 (essentially a cosmetic package) was automatic-only and lasted only a single season.  Chrysler’s Plymouth division still offered the triple-carburetor 440 (rated in 1970 at a healthy 390 HP) in the big Sport Fury but only with an automatic and sales were low.  It’s worth remembering the original Chrysler 300 “letter cars” of 1955-1956 were essentially the same size as the intermediates of the mid 1960s which became so popular and were the platform which defined the “muscle car” during its brief and crazy vogue; the size was “right” in a US context and what the full-sized lines had grown to was not.  As the fuselage Chryslers came to exemplify, the huge, full-sizers would prove ideal as “land yachts” a breed particular to the 1970s in which occupants, isolated from the outside as never before (and rarely since) “floated” down the freeways, consuming fossil fuels and expelling pollutants in volumes which now would astonish most and appall Greta Thunberg (b 2003).

Hurst built one 300-H convertible, used as a promotional vehicle for their famous shifters, often accompanied by Ms Linda Vaughn (b 1943) who stood on a platform mounted atop the rear desk, between giant models of shifters.  Ms Vaughn was for more than two decades a welcome adornment to drag-strips, noted usually for noise and brutishness.

In 1970, Chrysler 300s tagged for conversion to 300-H specification came down the assembly line in the Jefferson Avenue plant in Detroit before being freighted to Hurst’s facility in Warminster, Pennsylvania to undergo a process which differed from the original plan: instead of deeper oil pans, upgraded ignition systems and the Hurst shifters which had made the company’s name, the cars received mostly cosmetic enhancements although the suspension was stiffened.  About the only difference in configuration was some used a column-shift for the transmission and some a floor-shit with a console, the later combination used with bucket seats.  Despite the 7.2 litre V8, the gearing and bulk conspired against muscle-car like acceleration although the ET (elapsed time) of 15.5 seconds for the standing quarter mile (400 m) was impressive, all things considered.  However, with a MSRP (manufacturer's suggested retail price) of US$5,939 (without any options) it was the corporation’s most expensive offering (except for the Imperial line) and this, combined with the absence of promotion and the anyway declining interest in the segment meant there wasn’t a second batch beyond the original 500-odd (the total quoted variously between 485-501), many of which lingered on dealers’ lots.  According to internal documents, the initial projections had anticipated sales of 2000.

A Hurst Jaws of Life used between 1977-2012 by the fire department in Carlsbad, New Mexico, now on display at the National Museum of American History.

The 300-H was the biggest of a number of cars to bear the Hurst name although internationally George Hurst’s (1927-1986; founder of his eponymous company), greatest legacy to the world was the “Jaws of Life”, a hydraulic cutter he first developed in 1961 after being shocked at how long it sometimes took to extract the driver from the crumpled wreck of a race car.  The great advantage of the “Jaws of Life” was that it worked like a very powerful pair of scissors, avoiding the showers of sparks produced by mechanical saws, always a risk to use in areas where fuel is likely to have been spilled.  The basic design came to be used in hydraulic rescue devices worldwide and quite how many lives have been saved by virtue of it use isn’t known but it would be a big number.

Ms Linda Vaughn on the move.

It’s said one 300-H was dealer-fitted with the fabled 426 cubic inch (7.0) Street Hemi V8 but like many such tales from the era, the veracity of that is uncertain and most find the story improbable.  Chrysler certainly never considered using either the Hemi or the triple-carburetor (3 x 2 bbl) version of the 440 because, given the market segment at which the thing was aimed, air-conditioning (AC) was thought likely to be an often chosen option and the factory never offered the option with either the Hemi or the most powerful 440, the systems of the era not suited to the high-revving units.  It’s thus an orthodoxy in the collector that “no cars with the 426 Hemi or 440 6 bbl were fitted with AC by the factory” and while that’s true of Chrysler’s factories, it not the case for every factory because Jensen in the UK offered AC in their Interceptor SP (Six-Pack, 1971-1973) which used the six-barrel 440 and the boutique Swiss manufacturer Monteverdi did include AC in the single mid-engined Hai (1970) fitted with a Hemi.

Slant

Slant (pronounced slant or slahnt)

(1) A surface, structure, line etc at a slope or in an oblique direction.

(2) In (US) football, an offensive play in which the ball-carrier runs toward the line of scrimmage at an angle (known also as the “slant-in”, a pass pattern in which a receiver cuts diagonally across the middle of the field).

(3) In prosody, as “slant rhyme”, a synonym for the “half rhyme”, “near rhyme” & “quasi-rhyme” (a form of imperfect rhyme in which the final (coda) consonants of stressed syllables (and, in modern English poetry, any following syllables to the end of the words) are identical in sound, but the vowels of the stressed syllables are not.

(4) In typography, a synonym of slash ( / ⟩, particularly in its use to set off pronunciations from other text (not used in IT where the distinctions are between the forward-slash (/) and the back-slash (\) which nerds call respectively the slash and the slosh.

(5) In biology, a sloping surface in a culture medium.

(6) In hydro-carbon extraction, as “slant drilling”, a technique in which the drilling is undertaken at an oblique angle rather than the traditional vertical orientation.

(7) In extractive mining, as type of run in which a heading is driven diagonally between the dip and strike of a coal seam.

(8) In informal use, a glance or look.

(9) To veer or angle away from a given level or line, especially from a horizontal; slope (in to incline, to lean).

(10) Figuratively, to have or be influenced by a subjective point of view, bias, personal feeling or inclination etc (often as “slant towards”, “slanted view” etc); a mental leaning, bias, or distortion (“feminist slant”, “MAGA slant”, “liberal slant”, “business slant” et al).

(11) To cause to slope.

(12) Figuratively, to distort information by rendering it unfaithfully or incompletely, especially in order to reflect a particular viewpoint (more generously sometimes described as “spin” or “massaged”).  The concept is known also as “angle journalism” (the particular mood or vein in which something is written, edited, or published).  In Scots English, the meaning “to lie or exaggerate” captures the flavor.  When used to describe the composing, editing, or publishing of something to attract the interest of a specific sub-group (a “slanted” story), “slanted towards” is necessarily pejorative if used only to suggest something optimized to appeal to a certain market segment or demographic (ie it’s more like “aimed at” or “intended for”).

(13) In slang, as “slant eye” (a racial slur now listed as disparaging & offensive), a reference to people from the Far East (applied historically mostly to the Chinese & Japanese), based on the shape of the eyes.  The variants included “slit eye”, “slitty-eyed” & “slopehead”, all equally offensive and now proscribed.

(14) In painting (art) a pan with a sloped bottom used for holding paintbrushes; a depression on a palette with a sloping bottom for holding and mixing watercolors; a palette or similar container with slants or sloping depressions.

(15) In US regional slang, a sarcastic remark; shade, an indirect mocking insult (archaic).

(16) In US slang, an opportunity, particularly to go somewhere (now rare).

(17) In historic Australian colonial slang, a crime committed for the purpose of being apprehended and transported to a major settlement.

Circa 1480s: From the Middle English –slonte or -slonte, both aphetic (in phonetics, linguistics & prosody, “of, relating to, or formed by aphesis” (the loss of the initial unstressed vowel of a word)) variants of aslant, thought to be of Scandinavian origin.  The other influence was probably the earlier dialectical slent, from the Old Norse or another North Germanic source and cognate with the Old Norse slent, the Swedish slinta (to slip) and the Norwegian slenta (to fall on the side), from the Proto-Germanic slintaną (which, in turn, was probably in some way linked with aslant.  Slant & slanting are nouns, verbs & adjectives, slanted is a verb & adjective, slantish is an adjective, slantwise is an adjective & adverb and slantingly & slantly are adverbs; the noun plural is slants.  The pleasing adjective slantendicular is listed by some as non-standard and presumably is proscribed in geometry and mathematics because it's an oxymoron; it’s a portmanteau word, the construct being slant + (perp)endicular.  It may be useful however in commerce or engineering where it might be used to describe something like a tool with a shaft which at some point assumes an oblique or skewed angle.   So it’s there to be used and slantindicular should be applied to stuff which is neither wholly nor fully slanted and in architecture, such structures are numerous.  In commerce, it could be used as a noun.

The noun slant by the 1650s was used to mean “an oblique direction or plane” and began in geography & civil engineering (of landforms, notably ski-slopes), developed from the verb or its adjective.  The now familiar (in the Fox News sense) meaning “way of regarding something, a mental bias” dates from 1905 while the derogatory slang sense of “a person of Asian appearance” came into use some time in the 1940s, a direct descendent from the earlier "slant-eyes", documented since 1929.  The verb slant is documented since the 1520s in the sense of “obliquely to strike (against something)”, an alteration the late thirteenth century slenten (slip sideways), the origin of which is murky but etymologists have concluded it came (via a Scandinavian source (noting the Swedish slinta (to slip)) and the Norwegian slenta (to fall on one side), from the Proto-Germanic slintanan.  The intransitive sense of “to slope, to lie obliquely” was in use by the 1690s, while the transitive sense of “to give a sloping direction to” had emerged by the early nineteenth century.  As early as the late fifteenth century forms were in use as an adverb, the adjectival use attested from the 1610s.  The technical use in literary theory as “poetic slant rhyme” was first used in the mid 1920s (assonance or consonance) although such lines had appeared for centuries, used sometimes deliberately as a device, sometimes not.  In the following stanza by English poet Peter Redgrove (The Archaeologist, published in Dr Faust's Sea-Spiral Spirit (1972)), the second and third lines contain a form of slant rhyme while the first and fourth have pure rhymes:

So I take one of those thin plates
And fit it to a knuckled other,
Carefully, for it trembles on the edge of powder,
Restore the jaw and find the fangs their mates.

Slanted right: You are watching Fox.

While it’s unlikely volumes of the poetry of Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) sit upon the bookshelves of those members of the Fox News audience who have bookshelves, they likely would concur with her words: “Tell the truth but tell it slant.”  “Slanted reporting” has become something which in recent years has attracted much attention (and much hand-wringing by the usual suspects) as an increasingly polarization of positions has been alleged to be a feature of political discourse in the West.  There is little doubt the effect (as reported) is obvious but there’s some debate about both the mechanics and the implications of the phenomenon.  As long ago as 2018, a study found that although the tenor and volume of things on X (formerly known as Twitter) was found to be increasingly toxic and surging, the number of active users engaged in these political polemics was found to be tiny and their effect was distorted by (1) the huge number of tweets they tended to post, (2) the propensity of their fellow-travelers to re-tweet and (3) the use of bots which were more prolific still.  If anything, recent voting patterns suggest it would seem the views of the general population appear to be trending away from the extremes towards the more centralist positions offered by independents or small-parties, something most obvious in Australia where compulsory voting exists.  Outfits like Fox News offer a slanted take on just about everything (and promote country & western music which truly is inexcusable) but this is something which has been identifiable in the news media as long as it’s existed and their blatant bias is hardly subversive or threatening, simply because it is so blatant.  What was most interesting in what emerged from the recent defamation suit filed by Dominion Voting Systems against Fox News suggested the network’s stance on things was motivated more by the financial imperative than ideological purity.  Intriguingly, what some analysts concluded was that if the universe shifted and the Fox News audience transformed into a bunch of seed-eating hippies, there would follow Fox’s editorial position, the slant being towards the advertising revenue rather than a particular world view.  Of course, there are some slants which are unalterable and dictated by ideological purity but with commercial media, it’s likely sometimes cause is confused with effect.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa (left) and Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap (1998) in front of London’s perpendicular Big Ben (1859) (right).  The architect’s original name for the latter was a typically succinct “Clock Tower”, chosen because it housed the “Great Bell of the Great Clock of Westminster” but it was in 2012 renamed “Elizabeth Tower”, marking the Diamond Jubilee of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), something little noted by Londoners or those beyond who continue to prefer the nickname “Big Ben” although strictly speaking that’s a reference only to the “Great Bell” a 13.5 ton (13.7 tonne) casting in bell metal (a bronze which is an alloy of about 77% copper & 23% tin).  The origin of the nickname is contested but there are no romantic tales, all the possible inspirations being worthy white men as was the Victorian way.

Although in Italy alone there are seven leaning towers (three of which stand (ie lean) in Venice), it’s the torre di Pisa (Tower of Pisa) which is by far the best-known and a frequent Instagram prop.  Built between 1173-1372, the structure in the Piazza del Duomo (Pisa’s Cathedral Square) is the campanile (the freestanding bell tower) of the adjacent Pisa Cathedral and the famous lean of some 4^o (actually somewhat less than its greatest extent after more than a century of compensating engineering works) was apparent even during construction, the cause the softness of the sub-surface.  That geological feature has however contributed to the tower’s survival, the “rubber-like” sponginess below acting to absorb movement and despite a number of severe earthquakes in the region over the centuries, the tower remains.  It is of course known as the leaning tower than a sloping, oblique or slanted tower, probably because of the conventions of use which evolved in English.

The words “sloping”, “oblique”, “slanted”, & “leaning” all describe something not vertical or horizontal there tend to be nuances which dictate the choice of which to use.  Sloping generally is used of something which inclines or declines at a gentle or continuous angle, the implication being of a gradual or smooth transition from elevation to another, such as the way a hillside rises gradually rises to its summit.  Oblique is mostly a matter of specific angles and is thus common is mathematics, geometry and engineering.  Again, it’s a reference to something neither parallel nor perpendicular to a baseline but it tends to be restricted to something which can be defined with an exact measurement; in geometric or technical use, an oblique line or angle is one neither 90^o nor perfectly horizontal.  Slanted describes something positioned at a diagonal, often used to imply a more noticeable or sharp angle but also is widely used figuratively, metaphorically and in idiomatic phrases.  Leaning refers to something tilted or positioned at an angle due to external pressure, the object in an unstable position and in need of support.  The implication carried is that something which “slants” is designed thus to do while something which “leans” does so because of some design flaw or unexpected external force being applied so it’s the leaning and not the sloping tower of Pisa, even though the structure has assumed quite a slope.

Slanting Engines

On a slant: Diagram of the mounting of the M194 straight-six engine in the Le Mans winning Mercedes-Benz 300 SL (W194) canted at a 40^o slant (left); the Mercedes-Benz M196 straight-eight engine schematic (centre) and installed in a 1954 W196R "Streamliner" at a 53^o slant (right).  The two large donut-like objects at the front are the inboard, finned brake drums; at the time, the engineers maintained disk brakes were "not yet ready for use". 

There are “slant” engines and they exist in three configurations.  The first is simply a conventional in-line engine (straight-six, straight-eight etc) which, when installed in a vehicle, is fitted with the block canted to the left or right, the objective being a lower hood line which means a better aerodynamic outcome.  A classic example was the Mercedes-Benz W196R Formula One racing car (1954-1955) in which the straight-eight was canted to the right at a 53^o angle, the technique carried over when the same structure was used to produce the W196S (1955) used to contest the World Sports Car Championship.  Rather opportunistically, the W196S was dubbed the 300 SLR (one of which in 2022 became the world's most expensive used car, selling at a private auction for US$142 million) as a form of cross promotion with the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1956) Gullwing then in production, even though the two types shared little more than nuts, bolts and a resemblance.  The 300 SL did however also have its straight-six engine sitting at a slant, this time canted at a 50^o angle and although the factory never published an estimate of the reduction in drag, it’s long been presumed to be “at least several percent”.  Another advantage of the configuration was it made possible the use of “long-tube” runners for the induction system, taking advantage of the properties of fluid dynamics to permit them to be tuned either for mid-range torque or top-end power.  The concept used math which had been worked out in the nineteenth century and had often been used in competition but it wasn’t until 1959 when Chrysler in the US released their picturesque induction castings that the system, imaginatively named the “Sonoramic”, reached a wider audience.

Chrysler Slant Six (170 cid, 1963) schematic.

The “true” slant engines were those with a slanted block atop an otherwise conventional arrangement of components, the best known of which was Chrysler’s long-serving “Slant Six”, produced in displacements of 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969), 198 cubic inch (3.2 litre, 1970-1974) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1960-2000).  The block of the Slant Six was canted to the right at a 30^o and like Mercedes-Benz, Chrysler took advantage of the space created to the left to produce some wide induction runners, the most extravagant those used by the special Hyper Pack option package which used a four barrel carburetor, enabling the engine to produce power which made it competitive with many V8 powered machines.  Although the name “Slant Six” became famous, it was only in the mid-sixties it caught on, Plymouth originally calling the thing a 30-D (a reference to the a 30^o slant), hardly very catchy and something to which only engineers would relate and Slant Six was soon preferred although the aficionados really like “tower of power” and the engine even today still has a devoted following.

Chrysler Slant Six with Hyper Pak in 1962 Plymouth Valiant V-200.

Chrysler didn’t restrict the Sonoramics to the big-block V8s, using it also on the short-lived (1960-1962) Hyper Pak performance option for the both 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1987-2000) versions of the Slant Six, the engineers taking advantage of the space afforded by the canted block to permit the curvaceous intake runners nearly to fill the engine bay.  The Hyper Pak wasn't seen in showrooms but was available as an over-the-counter kit (literally a cardboard box containing all necessary parts) from Dodge & Plymouth spare parts departments and its life was limited because it became a victim of its own success.  Although less suitable for street use because it turned the mild-mannered straight-six into something at its best at full throttle, in the race events for which it was eligible it proved unbeatable, dominating the competition for two years, compelling the sanctioning body cancel the series.

Manifold porn: The Slant Six's angle meant there was much space available to the left and a range of intake manifolds followed, some of which remain available to this day.  Using variations of the sonoramic tuning, manifolds were produced for single, two & four barrel carburetors and between 1965-1968, Chrysler's Argentine operation produced the Slant Six in a version with twin single barrel carburetors.  The use of the properties of fluid dynamics to gain power or torque as desired quickly was adopted by the industry as an engineering orthodoxy.

Some myths seem to have become attached to the Hyper-Pak.  What seems to be true is the original kit, sold in 1960 for the 170 engines used in competition, was a genuine homologation exercise and as well as the intake manifold & Carter AFB four barrel carburetor, it included all the internal parts such as the high-compression pistons, the high-lift camshaft and the valve train components needed to support the consequently higher engine speeds.  Because the competition rules allowed modifications to the exhaust system, on the track the cars ran tubular steel headers which fed an open exhaust, terminating in the racers' preferred “dump pipe”.  After the requisite number of “complete” kits were sold, thus fulfilling the homologation demands, the kits were reconfigured and included only the “bolt-on” parts such as the induction system and a camshaft which, while more aggressive than the standard unit, wasn’t as radical as the one used on the track but could be used in conjunction with the standard valve train and Chrysler’s TorqueFlite automatic, thus expanding the Hyper-Pak’s appeal.

At the same time, the availability was extended to the larger 225 which between 1961-1963 was also available with an aluminum block, thus becoming one of the small number of engines configured with the combination of an aluminum block with a cast-iron head.  US manufacturers were at the time aware the trend was for cars to continue getting bigger so they were interested in ways to reduce weight.  However, despite saving some 70 lbs (32 KG), Chrysler’s aluminum block was, like General Motors’ (GM) 215 cubic inch (3.5 litre) V8, short-lived (though the V8 after being sold to Rover enjoyed a long, lucrative and prolific second life, not finally laid to rest until 2006) for not only were teething troubles encountered with the still novel method of construction, the accountants made clear using cast iron was always going to be cheaper so the industry just accepted weight gain and whenever required, increased displacement to compensate, an approach which persisted until the first oil shock of the early 1970s.

1970 Dodge Challenger (1970-1974) with 225 Slant Six.

Until 1973, both the Challenger & the corporation's companion E-Body pony car (the Plymouth Barracuda (1969-1974)) was available with the Slant Six (198 & 225) although the fitment rate was under 10%, unlike the early pony cars (Ford Mustang, Chevrolet Camaro and the early Barracudas) where the six-cylinder versions would at times be close to 40% of production.  Many of the surviving Slant Six Challengers & Barracudas have been "re-purposed" as clones of the more desirable versions with potent small or big-block V8s.  Because of the rarity, exceptional examples of slant-six E-body cars do trade in a niche in the collector market. 

Although it was the longer lived 225 version which gained the Slant Six its stellar reputation for durability and the ease with which additional power could be extracted, there's always been a following for the short-stroke 170 because of its European-like willingness to rev, the characteristics of the over-square engine (unique among the slant-six's three displacements (170-198-225)) unusually lively for a US straight-six.  Despite some aspects of the specification being modest (there were only four main bearings although they were the beefy units used in the 426 cubic inch Street Hemi V8), for much of its life it used a tough forged steel crankshaft and high-speed tolerant solid valve lifters; it proved a famously robust engine and one remarkably tolerant of neglect.  Despite that, after the Hyper Pak affair, Chrysler in the US showed little interest in any performance potential, knowing the US preference for V8s, something which doomed also Pontiac's short-lived single overhead camshaft (SOHC) straight-six (1966-1969).  A version of the 225 with a two-barrel carburetor (rated at 160 horsepower, an increase of 15 over the standard unit) was offered in some non-North American markets where V8 sales were not dominant and it proved very popular in South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Central & South America but only when tighter US emission regulations forced its adoption did a 225 with a two barrel carburetor appear in the home market though there it was installed to restore the power losses suffered after the emission control plumbing was added rather than seek gains.

Pontiac Trophy 4 cutaway.

Making a straight-eight or V8 by combining two in-line fours has been done a few times and many have been successful (although Triumph managed to create a truly horrid one for the otherwise lovely Stag).  Less common is making a four from an eight but that’s what Pontiac did when they conjured their 194.5 cubic inch (3.2 litre) four by using one bank of their 389 cubic inch (6.4 litre) Trophy V8 and it was (just about) literally cut in half, meaning the cylinders were canted to the right by 45^o (the V8 obviously in a conventional 90^o configuration).  To emphasize the family connection with the highly regarded Pontiac Trophy V8, the smaller offspring was called the Trophy 4 (although it was at time also dubbed the Indy 4 or Indianapolis 4 which even at the time sounded ambitious).  It did work and the economic advantages for the manufacturer (use of common components and the same assembly line) were compelling but the limitations inherent in a four-cylinder of such a large displacement were apparent in the rough-running and wear on critical parts and it was available only between 1961-1963 and used in a single model, the compact (in US terms) Tempest.

Pontiac 389 cubic inch V8 and "Tri-Power" (three Rochester two-barrel carburetors) induction in 1966 GTO convertible; one of these is more sought after than two Trophy 4s and worth more than twice as much.

The Pontiac V8 which provided the bones for the Trophy 4 was unusual compared with the US industry's post-war practice in that although its displacement ranged between 265-455 cubic inches (4.3-7.5 litres), only one block was used whereas others would produce several, the most common distinction being the "big block" and "small block", terms which were not always indicative of relative internal capacity but were literal in terms of external dimensions.  Ford muddied the waters a bit when one "big block" was continued in production after another (even bigger) "big block" was released and this had led some to prefer the opportunistically coined "mid block" but that's always been too nerdy for most who continue to prefer the well-understood small-big distinction.  All Oldsmobile's post-war V8s also shared the one basic block but the division followed the usual practice of using a "tall deck" version (ie one with metal added to the casting to permit a longer stroke) for the larger displacement iterations whereas Pontiac chose to use a unique "short deck" casting for some in the last days before General Motors (GM) extended the intra-divisional sharing of engines, something which doomed the Pontiac V8.  The fact that the external dimensions of the Pontiac V8s were almost all identical, regardless of displacement intrigued some who saw a simple, cheap path to power, replacing a 326 cubic inch (5.3 litre) V8 with a 455 cubic inch version a remarkably simple process.  However, as some soon found out, just because it fitted under the hood didn't mean other components would tolerate the increase in power and torque, something which applied especially to some of Pontiac's novel (and short-lived) engineering in the early 1960s such as the flexible driveshaft (the so-called "rope-drive") or the rear-mounted transaxle;  quickly, things would break.

Diagram showing balance shaft locations.

Bigger even than the Pontiac Trophy 4, large displacement four cylinder engines were once common although some were exceptional.  Fiat in 1910 built two of their S76s to contest the world LSR (land speed record) and they were an hefty 28.4 litres (1730 cubic inch), the “Beast of Turin” using its then impressive 290 horsepower (216 kW) to attain a one-way speed of 132.27 mph (213 km/h) but, because it was not possible for the team to make the “return run” (ie in the opposite direction) within the stipulated one hour, the LSR remained with the Blitzen Benz which in 1909 had set a mark of 125.94 mph (202.65 km/h).  On land, never again would anyone build a four with the capacity to match the Beasts of Turin but units with displacements approaching 5.0 litres (305 cubic inch) were not uncommon during the inter-war years.  However, the technology of the internal combustion engine (ICE) greatly advanced during World War II (1939-1945) and one consequence of that was engine speeds rose and less displacement was required for a specific output, both factors which conspired to make the big fours unfashionable.  They did however make a comeback in the 1970s when the clever trick of “balance shafts” enabled the inherently chronic second order harmonic vibrations to be “dampened out” and Porsche between 1991-1995 produced a 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) range which used the technique.  The balance shaft was invented early in the twentieth century by English engineer Frederick Lanchester (1868–1946) but it was Mitsubishi which in the 1970s patented their “Silent Shaft” system and although Porsche developed their own version, they worked out the Japanese design was superior so used that instead, paying Mitsubishi a small royalty (under US$10) for each one installed.  A balance shaft uses two counterweights (looking something like small hockey pucks with the shaft running through them), set some 1½ inches (40 mm) apart and turns at twice the engine-speed.  With one shaft mounted high on one side of the engine and the other low on the opposite side, the pair counter-rotates, balancing the large reciprocating mass.  In that, the balance shafts can be thought of as a variation of a crankshaft's harmonic balancer.