Etiolate

Etiolate (pronounced ee-tee-uh-leyt)

(1) In botany, to cause a plant to whiten or grow pale by excluding light.

(2) To cause to become weakened or sickly; to remove vigor.

(3) To drain of color; to make pale and sickly-looking; to become pale or blanched.

(4) In literary theory (usually as “etiolated verse” or etiolated text”), to revise a text to remove fanciful or pretentious forms.

1791: The past participle of the seventeenth century French étioler (to blanch) and used to mean “to make pale, to remove a light source from plants during growth to induce them to form in a lighter hue”, presumed to be a derivative of a Norman French dialect form of with the appended -ate suffix.  The 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.  The idea in French may have been derived from the notion of “to make the color of straw” or even literally “to become like straw” and it was used in a branch of horticulture to “turn a plant white by growing it in darkness”, the attraction of white being the association with “delicacy; purity” and it was a commercial approach in market gardens to create “high priced vegetables” and was from étiolé, past participle of the seventeenth century étioler (to blanch), probably from the Norman dialect étule (a stalk) and the Old French esteule (straw, field of stubble) from the Latin stupla from stipula (straw; stubble).  Etiolate is a verb & adjective, etiolation is a noun, etiolative is a noun & adjective, etiolated is a verb & adjective, etiolating is a verb and etiolatively is an adverb; the noun plural is etiolations.

In literary theory, “to etiolate” a text is to remove or revise the “purple passages” (known just as alliteratively also as “purple prose”).  In literature, purple passages are those sections of a text which are overly elaborate, flowery, or extravagant in style, often prioritizing ornate or decorative language and the use of needlessly long words, the meaning of which is often obscure.  Such writing is thought a literary self-indulgence or a mere pretentious display of knowledge; grandiose execution at the expense of clarity, the usual critique being “style over substance”.  The phrase is almost certainly derived from the historic use of the once rare and expensive purple dye being restricted (actually by statute or edict in some places) to royalty and even when availability became wider, the association with luxury & wealth continued.  The idea has long been a tool of critics, Roman lyric poet Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 65-8 BC) in his Ars Poetica (The Art of Poetry, 19 BC) referring disapprovingly to the purpureus… pannus (a purple piece of cloth), the irrelevant insertion of a grandiloquent or melodramatic passage into a work.  Horace thought this disruptive at best and absurd at worst and “purple passages” continues to be used to describe writing which is needlessly ornate, florid and usually discordantly incongruous.  Used almost always pejoratively (although there do seem to be some admirers), comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) might have called such flourishes “formalism”.  Amusingly, in an example of how idiomatic use in English must baffle those learning the language, “purple patch”, also once applied to such tortured text, would come to be used to describes any particular good period or performance (in any context), the use always wholly positive.

Pencil sketch (circa 1845) of Anne Brontë (1820–1849) by her sister Charlotte (1816–1855).

What is a purple passage is a cultural construct and in literature fashions change, some works regarded still regarded as “literary classics” written in a style which if release now would be thought absurd or a parody.  That’s because such judgments tend now to be made on the basis of the manner in which people “actually talk” and although that is highly variable and influenced by social class and regional traditions, in the age of modern media there is probably a broad (if not at the margins wholly accurate) understanding of the range and it’s to this literature need to adhere.  So, consider what Anne Brontë has the Reverend Michael Millward say in The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (1848):

“But I have heard that, with some persons, temperance—that is, moderation—is almost impossible; and if abstinence be an evil (which some have doubted), no one will deny that excess is a greater. Some parents have entirely prohibited their children from tasting intoxicating liquors; but a parent’s authority cannot last for ever; children are naturally prone to hanker after forbidden things; and a child, in such a case, would be likely to have a strong curiosity to taste, and try the effect of what has been so lauded and enjoyed by others, so strictly forbidden to himself—which curiosity would generally be gratified on the first convenient opportunity; and the restraint once broken, serious consequences might ensue. I don’t pretend to be a judge of such matters, but it seems to me, that this plan of Mrs. Graham’s, as you describe it, Mrs. Markham, extraordinary as it may be, is not without its advantages; for here you see the child is delivered at once from temptation; he has no secret curiosity, no hankering desire; he is as well acquainted with the tempting liquors as he ever wishes to be; and is thoroughly disgusted with them, without having suffered from their effects.”

Once that text is etiolated, the parson is suggesting if one’s children are introduced to strong drink under parental supervision, they’ll be less likely to grow up as drunken philanders and sluts.  Did, in general discourse, even the most loquacious Church of England clergy of the 1840s talk in the way the author would have us believe or did novelists write in an elaborated, formalized style because that’s what their readers wanted?  It can’t be certain because there are only letters and no audio recordings; such transcripts as we have are from formal, set piece events like public addresses or debates in parliament which are hardly representative but on the basis of what was reported as the way “educated folk” spoke in court proceedings, it was with nothing like the prolixity of Ms Brontë’s reverend gentleman.  But that was the way fiction so often was written and the works of some who have contributed much to the canon must strike the modern reader as “artificially ornate” including John Milton (1608–1674), Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804–1864), Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849), Herman Melville (1819–1891) and Thomas Hardy (1840–1928).  Write now as they did now and expect to be accused of writing purple passages.

Beans, etiolated (left) and not (right).

For most of human history, the purpose in agriculture was to cultivate plants for optimal growth and productivity but in the eighteenth century the technique of deliberate etiolation emerged as a niche industry with specific goals.  What the gardeners did was at certain point in a plant’s development to deprive it of light while continuing to supply water and fertilizer.  What this cause was for the foliage to lose its natural color and tend towards being white, manifested usually in a “straw-like” coloring although some outcomes truly were white.  Additionally, many plants would grow with long, weak & slender stems, the elongation thought elegant compared with the thick, robust structures of those which remained exposed to natural light.  In biological terms, what the plants were doing was devoting all available energy to grow longer in the search for light, that essential element of photosynthesis, the process with which plants convert the energy from light (historically sunlight) into the chemical energy (notably sugars) used by their metabolism.

Delightfully etiolated: A stunningly pale Lindsay Lohan leaving the Byron & Tracey salon, Beverly Hills, California, September 2011.

Although the technique was used of seedlings which were started indoors or in a sheltered spot, encouraging early growth before being transplanted outside in the spring, etiolated plants were valued most for their aesthetic appeal, the association of white with not only delicacy & purity but also wealth because the pale complexion of the rich was a symbol of a privileged existence not spent toiling in the fields under the harsh sun which so darkened the skin of peasants.  Thus, etiolated plants, with their long, slender stems were prized for their visual appeal in gardens and floral arrangements while small, leafed vegetables in an unusually pale hue were prized by the chefs of the rich because they were so useful in making food into “plate art” a thing then as now and that such produce invariably lacked taste was just a price to be paid for the effect.  Of course etiolation tended to weaken plants so it was only ever a niche product for a high-priced market segment but, in controlled conditions, it did prove a useful technique in selective breeding for specific traits and it’s believed some of the long-stemmed plants still cultivated today are varieties which date for the era.

Natural selection means plants do tend to grow towards the light but many like also to grow vertically, something Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) had plenty of time to observe while serving in Berlin’s Spandau prison the twenty year sentence he was lucky to have been handed by the IMT (International Military Tribunal) in the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) for war crimes (Count three of the indictment) and crimes against humanity (Count 4).  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) he noted the mixed behaviour of the seeds he planted:

June 25, 1951: A month ago I planted peas, in groups of three, at depths of seven, fifteen, twenty-five, and forty centimeters, and watered them plentifully.  Today I undertake a cautious excavation. Even when the eye was down, the shoot turned in a sharp arc and grew vertically upward. None of the many shoots left the vertical by so much as a few degrees, not even those that germinated at a depth of forty centimeters.  Only one pea at a depth of twenty-five centimeters lost its sense of direction and grew into a confused snarl of thick threads.  In greenhouses, heating cables often keep the temperatures under the roots higher than on the surface.  So it cannot be the sun’s warmth.  A pine tree twenty meters tall growing by a shady cliff in the Black Forest does not grow toward the light, but vertically upward. Gravity, then?  It is particularly important for technology, which tries to achieve reactions similar to that of the pea, to investigate such guidance mechanisms.  New experiment.  I have dug a pit forty centimeters in depth.  At the bottom of it I lay out a row of alternating beans and peas. I close off the side toward the south with a pane of glass.  Then I fill in the pit with topsoil.  The arrangement is such that the surface of the soil is just as far from the seeds as the pane of glass.  Consequently warmth and light operate with equal intensity on both sides.  If growth is determined by one of these influences, the peas would have to grow toward the glass.  But I am still assuming that the plants have a tendency to oppose the pull of gravity.

August 22, 1951: Once again the peas have grown upward with amazing directional impulse, without reacting to the sunlight offered from the side.  Out of thirty peas, eleven have found the long way, forty centimeters, to the surface. Two peas gave up after they had grown twenty centimeters, and several others became impatient with this long distance for growing.  About eight centimeters under the surface of the soil they sent out side shoots with formed leaves.  But these peas, too, were disciplined enough to abandon these energy-consuming shoots after half a centimeter. What vital energy is displayed in these physical achievements, elaborating from a tiny round pea a tube one to one and a half millimeters in thickness and forty centimeters in length.  As I suspected, no such strong biological “instinct” can be ascribed to the beans. Out of six beans, only a single one tried to make its way to the surface, and it too gave up several centimeters before it reached its goal, while the others, obviously confused, sent shoots out in various directions from the seed.  What brings about such different behavior in such closely related plants?

Comet

Comet (pronounced kom-it)

(1) In astronomy, a celestial body moving about the sun, usually in a highly eccentric orbit, most thought to consist of a solid frozen nucleus, part of which vaporizes on approaching the heat from Sun (or other star) to form a gaseous, luminous coma (the envelope of dust and gas, the most dramatic part of which is the long, luminous tail which streams away from the sun (under the influence of solar winds).

(2) In astronomy, a celestial phenomenon with the appearance of such a body.

(3) Any of several species of hummingbird found in the Andes.

(4) In slang, as “vomit comet”, a reduced-gravity aircraft which, by flying in a parabolic flight path, briefly emulates a close to weightless environment.  Used to train astronauts or conduct research, the slang derived from the nausea some experience.

(5) In figurative use (often applied retrospectively and with a modifier such as “blazing comet”), someone (or, less commonly, something) who appears suddenly in the public eye, makes a significant impact and then quickly fades from view, their fleeting moment of brilliance a brief but spectacular event.

1150–1200: From the Middle English comete, partly from the Old English comēta and partly from the Anglo-French & Old French comete (which in Modern French persists as comète), all from the Latin comētēs & comēta, from the Ancient Greek κομήτης (komḗtēs) (wearing long hair; ling-haired), the construct being komē-, a variant stem of komân (to let one's hair grow), from κόμη (kómē) (hair) + -tēs (the agent suffix).  The Greek was a shortened form of ἀστὴρ κομήτης (astēr komētēs (longhaired star)), a reference to a comet’s streaming tail.  The descendants in other languages include the Malay komet, the Urdu کومٹ (komeṭ) and the Welsh comed.  Comet, cometlessness, cometography, cometographer, cometology & cometarium are nouns, cometless, cometic, cometical, cometocentric, cometary, cometographical & cometlike (also as comet-like) are adjectives, cometesimal is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is comets.

Comets orbit the Sun along an elongated path and when not near the heat, the body consists solely of its nucleus, thought to be almost always a solid core of frozen water, frozen gases, and dust.  When near the sun, the nucleus heats, eventually to boil and thus release the gaseous and luminous coma (the envelope of dust and gas), the most dramatic part of which is the long, luminous tail which streams away from the sun (under the influence of solar winds).  The path of a comet can be in the shape of an ellipse or a hyperbola; if a hyperbolic path, it enters the solar system once and then leaves forever while if it follows an ellipse, it remains in orbit around the sun.  Astronomer divide comets into (1) “short period” (those with orbital periods of less than 200 years and coming from the Kuiper belt) and (2) “long-period” (those with an orbital period greater than 200 years and coming from the Oort cloud).

Before the development of modern techniques, comets were visible only when near the sun so their appearance was sudden and, until early astronomers were able to calculate the paths of those which re-appeared, unexpected.  Superstition stepped in where science didn’t exist and comets were in many cultures regarded as omens or harbingers of doom, famine, ruin, pestilence and the overthrow of kingdoms or empires.  It was the English astronomer, mathematician and physicist Edmond Halley (1656–1742; Astronomer Royal 1720-1742) who in 1682 published the calculations which proved many comets were periodic and thus their appearance could be predicted.  Halley's Comet, named in his honor, remains the only known short-period comet consistently visible from Earth with the naked eye and remains the world’s most famous; it last appeared in 1986 and will next visit our skies in 2061.

Comet wine: Non-vintage Alois Lageder Natsch4 Vigneti Delle Dolomiti.

Halley’s findings put an end to (most) of the superstition surrounding comets but commerce still took advantage of their presence.  A comet with a famously vivid tail appeared in 1811 and in that year, Europe enjoyed a remarkably pleasant autumn (fall) which was most conducive to agriculture and became associated with the abundant and superior yield of the continental vineyards.  For that reason, the vintage was called the “comet wine” and the term became a feature in marketing the product which emerged from any year in which notable comets were seen, a superior quality alleged (and thus a premium price).  Wine buffs say any relationship between the quality of a vintage and the travel of celestial bodies is entirely coincidental.

Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath (2021) by Dr Heather Clark (b 1974).

One of things about the feminist cult which is now the construct of Sylvia Path (1932-1963) is that her mistreatment at the hands of her husband Ted Hughes (1930–1998; Poet Laureate 1984-2008) tends to obscure her work which many quite familiar with the story of her brief life will barely have read and that’s perhaps predictable, certainly for those for whom the lure of tales of tragic woman and brutish men is a siren.  As human tragedies go, her story is compelling: A precocious talent, the death of the father to whom she was devoted when only eight, the suicide attempt while a student and the burning ambition to write and be published.  Almost as soon as she met Ted Hughes she knew he was “my black marauder” and their affair was one of intense physicality as well as a devotion to their art, something which might have endured during their marriage (which produced two children) had Hughes not proved so unfaithful and neglectful.  In 1963, as an abandoned solo mother in a freezing flat during what entered history as London’s coldest winter of the century, she took her own life while her two babies slept nearby, becoming a symbol onto which people would map whatever most suited their purposes: the troubled genius, the visionary writer, a feminist pioneer and, overwhelmingly, a martyr, a victim of a man.  To his dying day, feminists would stalk literary events just to tell Hughes he had “Sylvia’s blood on his hands”.

So the story is well known and in the years since her death there have been a number of biographies, critical studies, collections of letters, academic conferences; given that, it’s seemed by the 2020s unlikely there was much more to say about one whose adult life spanned not even two decades.  For that reason the 1000-odd densely printed pages of Dr Heather Clark’s Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath was a revelation because, as the author pointed out, her life “has been subsumed by her afterlife” and what was needed was a volume which focused on what she wrote and why that output means she should be set free from the “cultural baggage of the past 50 years” and shown as “one of the most important American writers of the twentieth century.”

Sylvia Plath in Paris, 1956.

Red Comet is thus far this century’s outstanding biography and a feminist perspective is not required to recognize that when reading her last poems (written in obvious rage but sustaining a controlled tension few have matched) that she was a profoundly disturbed woman.  Most clinicians who have commented seem now to agree her depression of long-standing had descended to something psychotic by the time of her suicide, a progression she seems to have acknowledged, writing to one correspondent that she was composing poetry “on the edge of madness”.  This is though a biography written by a professional literary critic so it does not construct Plath as tale of tragedy and victimhood as one might if telling the story of some troubled celebrity.  Instead, the life is allowed to unfold in a way which shows how it underpins her development as a writer, the events and other glimpses of the person interpolated into the progress of a text through drafts and revisions, each word polished as the poet progresses to what gets sent to the publisher.  Red Comet is not a book for those interested in how much blame Ted Hughes should bear for his wife killing herself and in that matter it’s unlikely to change many opinions but as a study of the art of Sylvia Plath, it’s outstanding.  Unlike many figurative uses of "comet", Plath continues to blaze her trail. 

Pre-production de Havilland Comet (DH 106) with the original, square windows, England, 1949 (left) and Comet 4 (Registration G-APDN) in BOAC (British Overseas Airways Corporation (1939-1974 which in 1974 was merged with BEA (British European Airways) and others to later become BA (British Airways)) livery, Tokyo (Haneda International (HND / RJTT)), Japan October 1960.

The term hoodoo is often attached to objects thought jinxed.  When the de Havilland Comet (DH 106; the first commercial jet airliner), within a year of its first flight in 1949, began to suffer a number of catastrophic in-flight accidents, newspapers wrote of the “Comet hoodoo”, something encouraged because, in the pre “black-box” era, analysis of aviation incidents was a less exact science than now and for some time the crashes appeared inexplicable.  It was only when extensive testing revealed the reason for the structural failures could be traced to stresses in the airframe induced aspects of the design that the hoodoo was understood to be the operation of physics.  Other manufacturers noted the findings and changed their designs, Boeing's engineers acknowledging the debt they owed to de Havilland because it was the investigation of the Comet's early problems which produced the solutions which helped the Boeing 707 (1957) and its many successors to be the successful workhorses they became.  As a footnote, by the time the Comet 4 was released in 1958 the problems had been solved but commercially, the project was doomed and reputational damage done.  Between 1949-1964, barely more than 100 were sold although many did provide reliable service until 1981 and the airframe proved adaptable, dozens of military variants produced, the most notable being the Hawker Siddeley Nimrod, a maritime patrol version which was in service with the Royal Air Force (RAF) until 2011.

It’s because of the lessons learned from the Comet hoodoo that the apertures of airliner windows have rounded edges, the traditional four-cornered openings creating four weak spots prone to failure under stress.  In the early 1950s there was much optimism about the Comet and had it been successful, it could have given the UK’s commercial aviation industry a lead in a sector which rapidly would expand in the post war years.  One who didn’t express much faith in his country’s capacity to succeed in the field was the politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) who, shortly before taking up his appointment as the UK’s ambassador to France, was flying on an Avro York (a transport and civil adaptation of the Lancaster heavy bomber) and he noted in his diary: “I think the designer of the York has discovered the shape of an armchair in which it is quite impossible to be comfortable, if this is typical of the civil transport plane in which were are to compete against the US, we are already beaten.”  As Lindsay Lohan’s smiles indicate, as least on private jets, the seats are now comfortable.

Not quite an Edsel, not yet a Mercury: The 1960 Comet; it was an era of imaginative (other use different adjectives) styling (and at this time they were still "stylists" and not "designers").

The Mercury Comet, built in four generations between 1960-1969 and another between 1971-1977, had a most unusual beginning.  The Ford Motor Company (“FoMoCo”, Mercury’s parent corporation) had in the mid 1950s studied the five-tier (Chevrolet, Pontiac, Oldsmobile, Buick, Cadillac) branding used by General Motors (GM) and decided it too would create a five divisional structure (which by 1955 Chrysler had also matched).  The GM model dated from the 1920s and was called the “ladder” (GM at times had more than five rungs) and the idea was each step on the later would take a buyer into a higher price (and at least theoretically more profitable) range of models.  There was a time when this approach made sense but even in the 1950s when Ford embarked on their restructure it was beginning to fragment, the implications of which would become apparent over the decades.  Thus Ford ended up (firefly) with five divisions: Ford, Mercury, Edsel, Lincoln and Continental.  That didn’t last long and Continental was the first to go, followed soon by the still infamous Edsel and the corporation even flirted with the idea of shuttering Lincoln.

1963 Mercury Comet S-22 Convertible.

The original plan had been for the Comet to be the “small Edsel” but by the time the release date drew close, the decision had been taken to terminate the Edsel brand so the Q&D (quick & dirty) solution was to sell the car through the Lincoln-Mercury dealer network, an expedient which lasted for the 1960 & 1961 model years before the Comet was integrated into the Mercury range and badged appropriately.  The early Comets were built on the Falcon platform (“compact” in contemporary US terms) but when the 1966 range was released, the cars became “intermediates” (ie the size between the “compact” and “full-size” platforms) but the Comet name was withdrawn from use after 1969.  It was in 1971 revived for Mercury’s companion to the Maverick, Ford’s replacement for the compact Falcon which slotted above the Pinto which was in a domestic class so compact the industry coined the class-designation “sub compact”.  Cheap to produce and essentially “disposable”, the Maverick and Comet proved so popular they continued in production for a season even after their nominal replacements were in showrooms.

1967 Mercury Comet Cyclone "R Code", one of 60 built that year with the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) FE side-oiler V8 and one of the 19 with a four-speed manual transmission.

The Mercury Comet has never attracted great interest from collectors because few were built with the more robust or exotic drive-trains found more frequently in both the competition from GM & Chrysler and the companion versions from Ford.  The mid-range performance package for the general market was the Comet Cyclone, introduced in 1964 to replace the Comet’s earlier S-22 option; neither were big sellers but they were not expensive to produce and remained profitable parts of the Mercury range.  In 1968, during the peak of the muscle car era, Mercury sought to promote the line, dropping the Comet name and promoting the machines as the “Cyclone”, now with quite potent engines although the emphasis clearly was drag racing rather than turning corners; the high performance package was now called the “Cyclone Spoiler”.  For the NASCAR circuits however, there was in 1969 the Cyclone Spoiler II, one of the so-called “aero cars”, the better known of which were the much more spectacular, be-winged Dodge Daytona (1969) and Plymouth Superbird (1970).  Chrysler’s cars looked radical to achieve what they did but the modifications which created the Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II and Ford Torino Talladega were so subtle as to be barely noticeable, the most effective being the increased slope on the lengthened nose, the flush grill and some changes which had the effect of lowering both the centre of gravity and the body.  The Ford and Mercury might have been a less spectacular sight than the Dodge or Plymouth but on the tracks the seeming slight tweaks did the job and both were among the fastest and most successful of their brief era.

1969 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II (slab-sided but slippery, left), 1970 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler (sleek but less aerodynamic than its predecessor, centre) and the aborted 1970 Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II (handicapped out of contention by NASCAR, right).   

In 1970, just how aerodynamic was the 1969 Cyclone Spoiler was proved when the racing teams tried the new model which, although it looked sleek, was not as aerodynamically efficient and noticeably slower.  That might seem something of an own goal but Ford were blindsided by NASCAR’s decision to render the low-volume “aero cars” uncompetitive by restricting them to the use of 305 cubic inch (5.0 litre) engines while the conventional bodies were permitted to use the full 430 (7.0).  Thus the aerodynamic modifications planned for the 1970 Torino and Cyclone never entered production.  Of the two prototype Cyclone Spoiler IIs built, one survives revealing a nose which was in its own way as radical as those earlier seen on the Plymouth and Dodge.  In the collector market, the aero cars are much sought but the Cyclones are the least valued which may seem strange because they were on the circuits among the most successful of the era.  Market analysts attribute this to (1) the Cyclone Spoiler II (and Torino Talladega) being visually much less eye-catching than the wild-looking pair from Chrysler and (2) the Cyclone Spoiler II being sold only with a modest 351 cubic inch (5.8 litre) engine whereas the Fords ran 428s (7.0) and the Chryslers 440 (7.2) & 426 (6.9) units, the latter a version of the engine actually used in the race cars.

The highly qualified Kate Upton (b 1992) was in 2014 featured in a Sports Illustrated session filmed in a "vomit comet" (a modified Boeing 727 with a padded interior). 

Eristic

Eristic (pronounced e-ris-tik)

(1) Pertaining to controversy or disputation; controversial; provoking strife, controversy or discord.

(2) A person who engages in disputation; a controversialist.

(3) The art of disputation; of, relating, or given to controversy or logical disputation for its own sake (especially if pursued speciously) or as a technical exercise (in education).

(4) In the study of the myths of Antiquity, of or relating to Ἔρις (Eris) (Discord), the goddess of strife,

1630–1640: From the Ancient Greek ἐριστικός (eristikós) (eager for strife, anxious to provoke), the construct being erist(ós) (verbid of erízein (to wrangle), derivative of éris discord) + -ikos, the English equivalent being eris + -t- + ic.  The -ic suffix was from the Middle English -ik, from the Old French -ique, from the Latin -icus, from the primitive Indo-European -kos & -ḱos, formed with the i-stem suffix -i- and the adjectival suffix -kos & -ḱos.  The form existed also in the Ancient Greek as -ικός (-ikós), in Sanskrit as -इक (-ika) and the Old Church Slavonic as -ъкъ (-ŭkŭ); A doublet of -y.  In European languages, adding -kos to noun stems carried the meaning "characteristic of, like, typical, pertaining to" while on adjectival stems it acted emphatically; in English it's always been used to form adjectives from nouns with the meaning “of or pertaining to”.  A precise technical use exists in physical chemistry where it's used to denote certain chemical compounds in which a specified chemical element has a higher oxidation number than in the equivalent compound whose name ends in the suffix -ous; (eg sulphuric acid (H₂SO₄) has more oxygen atoms per molecule than sulphurous acid (H₂SO₃).  Eristic is a noun & adjective, eristical is an adjectives and eristically is an adverb; the noun plural is eristics.

The eristic is a long-standing feature in democratic politics where the formal notions of “government” and “opposition” are institutionalized.  There is much in Lord Randolph Churchill’s (1849–1895) dictum that “the duty of the opposition is to oppose” and that process is the dynamic by which political debate is conducted.  That’s good if a genuine contest of ideas but there is often a sense that things are opposed for no reason other purpose than the conflict itself; it’s not the goal which matters, just the maintenance of strife.  The state of politics in the US can now be said to be eristic and that’s not something unique to the modern era, politics is a cyclical business and the forces unleashed can ultimately create conditions whereby conflict switches to conciliation and then to consensus.  Although there seems little hope of that in the immediate future, nothing lasts forever and unexpected events can be catalytic.  Eristic seems an attractive option for those writing about politics because (1) it’s undeniably applicable and (2) it adds variety to what can be often a repetitive vocabulary, the most common adjectives in such texts including belligerent, combative, contentious, controversial, disputatious, quarrelsome, scrappy & testy.  Political scientists who decide to use the adjective should note the comparative form (more eristic) and the superlative (most eristic) and, just in case there’s any doubt, Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) would likely usually attract the superlative.

One of the (many) judgments of Paris: Early in the century, the feud between Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan played out in the well-documented way such things are done on social media.  Both now mothers, détente appears to have been negotiated and a state of peaceful co-existence seems now to prevail.

In Greek mythology, Ἔρις (Eris) (strife) was the goddess or personified spirit (daimona) of strife, discord, contention and rivalry and in the bloodthirsty way artists for centuries delighted in doing, often she was depicted as the daimona of the strife of war, haunting battlefields and glorying in the carnage of the slaughter.  Something of the crooked Hillary Clinton on Antiquity, for obvious reasons Eris was closely identified with the Enyo the goddess of war and the eighth century poet of Ancient Greek Homer used the names interchangeably in his epic poems the Iliad and the Odyssey.  In Roman mythology her name was Discordia, the source obviously of the Modern English “discord”.  So disagreeable was Eris that other gods tried to avoid inviting her to their parties.  Usually this caused no more than the usual bitchiness familiar in mythology but one infamous non-invite led to the event known as the μῆλον τῆς Ἔριδος (Golden Apple of Discord), known in the story The Judgment of Paris.  Much miffed at not being invited to the wedding of Peleus & Thetis, Eris tossed the golden apple in the midst of the feast of the gods at the wedding banquet, offering it as a prize to whoever was of the greatest beauty, thus sparking a vanity-fueled dispute among Hera, Athena and Aphrodite a squabble which ultimately triggered the Trojan War.  Eris, even more angry than usual, had inscribed kallisti (To the prettiest one) on her “wedding gift” handing it to Πάρις (Paris, AKA Ἀλέξανδρος (Aléxandros) (Alexander), the son of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy) who was told to choose the goddess he found most beautiful.  Judging what turned out to be one of Greek mythology's more significant beauty contests, Paris chose Aphrodite, offending Hera and Athena, the most famous consequence of their feud being the Trojan War.  Tragedy did thereafter stalk the marriage of Peleus and Thetis; of their seven sons, the only one to survive beyond infancy was Achilles.

Friedrich Nietzsche (circa 1890), etching on wove paper by an unknown artist of the European Expressionist school, Robert Gore Rifkind Center for German Expressionist Studies, Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Wilshire Boulevard, Los Angeles.  Even before he went mad, Nietzsche looked sort of deranged.

Eris wasn’t an accident of supernatural genetics but was “born that way”.  In his Theogony, the Ancient Greek poet of the seventh & eighth centuries, Hesiod, recounted how she was the goddess who gave birth to work, forgetfulness, hunger, pain, battles, fights, murders, killings, quarrels, lies, disputes, lawlessness, ruin and bad language, but spread the blame a bit in his later Works and Days, saying the source of conflict on Earth was the two different strifes: Eris the daughter of Nyx and the other a spirit of emulation, placed by Zeus within the world to engender a healthy sense of competition.  That much appealed to the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900) who decided “a healthy sense of competition” was the struggle for survival and supremacy between men which was the very nature of human existence and in Homer's Contest (circa 1872 and described as a preface for one of several projected or at least contemplated books) he wrote: “Without competing ambition the Hellenic State like the Hellenic man degenerates.  He becomes bad and cruel, thirsting for revenge, and godless; in short, he becomes “pre-Homeric” — and then it needs only a panic in order to bring about his fall and to crush him.”  Contemplating the Germany of the Weimar Republic (1918-1933), Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) quickly grasped Nietzsche and was soon seduced by his words.

Hitler’s opinion of his fellow man was often not high and Nietzsche’s construct of human nature resonated.  He thought envy and jealousy the foundation of Ancient Greek society, both qualities essential for effective competition to produce the dynamic in which the strong would thrive and dominate the weak: “Eris urges even the unskilled man to work, and if one who lacks property beholds another who is rich, then he hastens to sow in similar fashion and to plant and to put his house in order; the neighbor vies with the neighbor who strives after fortune.. The potter also has a grudge against the potter, and the carpenter against the carpenter; the beggar envies the beggar, and the singer the singer. Good is this Eris to men”.  More delicate types like the English historian Arnold Toynbee (1889–1975 and born a week before Hitler) saw something very different in Hellenic civilization but for Nietzsche the lesson was conflict (competition) in all facets of life, be it athletics, art, war, rhetoric or poetry meant not only individuals reaping the material and spiritual rewards of fame & glory but the strengthening of a whole society.  Nietzsche may not have been the “Nazi” some like to suggest but his words had such appeal to them it can be hard to separate the two and the implications of his philosophy are apparent in Hitler’s domestic & foreign policy as well as the internal structures of the party, something not well understood until the post-war years.

Legside

Legside (pronounced leg-sahyd)

(1) In the terminology of cricket (also as onside), in conjunction with “offside”, the half of the cricket field behind the batter in their normal batting stance.

(2) In the terminology of horse racing, in conjunction with “offside”, the sides of the horse relative to the rider.

Pre 1800s: The construct was leg + side.  Leg was from the Middle English leg & legge, from the Old Norse leggr (leg, calf, bone of the arm or leg, hollow tube, stalk), from the Proto-Germanic lagjaz & lagwijaz (leg, thigh).  Although the source is uncertain, the Scandinavian forms may have come from a primitive Indo-European root used to mean “to bend” which would likely also have been linked with the Old High German Bein (bone, leg).  It was cognate with the Scots leg (leg), the Icelandic leggur (leg, limb), the Norwegian Bokmål legg (leg), the Norwegian Nynorsk legg (leg), the Swedish lägg (leg, shank, shaft), the Danish læg (leg), the Lombardic lagi (thigh, shank, leg), the Latin lacertus (limb, arm), and the Persian لنگ (leng).  After it entered the language, it mostly displaced the native Old English term sċanca (from which Modern English ultimately gained “shank”) which was probably from a root meaning “crooked” (in the literal sense of “bent” rather than the figurative used of crooked Hillary Clinton).  Side was from the Middle English side, from the Old English sīde (flanks of a person, the long part or aspect of anything), from the Proto-Germanic sīdǭ (side, flank, edge, shore), from the primitive Indo-European sēy- (to send, throw, drop, sow, deposit).  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Siede (side), the West Frisian side (side), the Dutch zijde & zij (side), the German Low German Sied (side), the German Seite (side), the Danish & Norwegian side (side) and the Swedish sida (side).  The Proto-Germanic sīdō was productive, being the source also of the Old Saxon sida, the Old Norse siða (flank; side of meat; coast), the Danish & Middle Dutch side, the Old High German sita and the German Seite.  Legside is an adjective.

A cricket field as described with a right-hander at the crease (batting); the batter will be standing with their bat held to the offside (there’s no confusion with the concept of “offside” used in football and the rugby codes because in cricket there’s no such rule).

In cricket, the term “legside” (used also as “leg side” or “on side”) is used to refer to the half of the field corresponding to a batter’s non-dominant hand (viewed from their perspective); the legside can thus be thought of as the half of the ground “behind” the while the “offside” is that in front.  This means that what is legside and what is offside is dynamic depending on whether the batter is left or right-handed and because in a match it’s not unusual for one of each to be batting during an over (the basic component of a match, each over now consisting of six deliveries of the ball directed sequentially at the batters), as they change ends, legside and offside can swap.  This has no practical significance except that because many of the fielding positions differ according to whether a left or right-hander is the striker.  That’s not the sole determinate of where a fielding captain will choose to set his field because what’s referred to as a “legside” or “offside” field will often be used in deference to the batter’s tendencies of play.  It is though the main structural component of field settings.  The only exception to this is when cricket is played in unusual conditions such as on the deck of an aircraft carrier (remarkably, it’s been done quite often) but there’s still a legside & offside, shifting as required between port & starboard just as left & right are swapped ashore.

The weird world of cricket's fielding positions.

Quite when legside & offside first came to be used in cricket isn't known but they’ve been part of the terminology of the sport since the rules of the game became formalized when the MCC (Marylebone Cricket Club) first codified the "Laws of Cricket" in what now seem a remarkably slim volume published in 1788, the year following the club’s founding.  There had earlier been rule books, the earliest known to have existed in the 1730s (although no copies appear to have survived) but whether the terms were then is use isn’t known.  What is suspected is legside and offside were borrowed from the turf where, in horse racing jargon, they describe the sides of the horse relative to the rider.  The use of the terms to split the field is reflected also in the names of some of the fielding positions, many of which are self-explanatory while some remain mysterious although presumably they must have seemed a good idea at the time.  One curious survivor of the culture wars which banished "batsman" & "fieldsman" to the shame of being microaggressions is "third man" which continues to be used in the men's game although in women's competition, all seem to have settled on "third", a similar clipping to that which saw "nightwatch" replace "nightwatchman"; third man surely can't last.  The ones which follow the dichotomous description of the field (although curiously “leg” is an element of some and “on” for others) including the pairings “silly mid on” & silly mid off” and “long on & long off”, while in other cases the “leg” is a modifier, thus “slip & leg slip” and “gully & leg gully”.  Some positions use different terminology depending on which side of the field they’re positioned, “point” on the offside being “square leg” on the other while fractional variations in positioning means there is lexicon of terms such as “deep backward square leg” and “wide long off” (which experts will distinguish from a “wideish long off”).

Leg theory

Leg theory was a polite term for what came to be known as the infamous “bodyline” tactic.  In cricket, when bowling, the basic idea is to hit the stumps (the three upright timbers behind the batter), the object being to dislodge the bails (the pair of small wooden pieces which sit in grooves, atop the three).  That done, the batter is “dismissed” and the batting side has to send a replacement, this going on until ten batters have been dismissed, ending the innings.  In essence therefore, the core idea is to aim at the stumps but there are other ways to secure a dismissal such as a shot by the batter being caught on the full by a fielder, thus the attraction of bowling “wide of the off-stump” (the one of the three closest to the off side) to entice the batter to hit a ball in the air to be caught or have one come "off the edge" of the bat to be “caught behind”.  It was realized early on there was little to be gained by bowling down the legside except restricting the scoring because the batter safely could ignore the delivery, content they couldn’t be dismissed LBW (leg before wicket, where but for the intervention of the protective pads on the legs, the ball would have hit the wicket) because, under the rules, if the ball hits the pitch outside the line of the leg stump, the LBW rule can’t be invoked.

A batter can however be caught from a legside delivery and as early as the nineteenth century this was known as leg theory, practiced mostly the slow bowlers who relied on flight in the air and spin of the pitch to beguile the batter.  Many had some success with the approach, the batters unable to resist the temptation of playing a shot to the legside field where the fielders tended often to be fewer.  On the slower, damper pitches of places like England or New Zealand, the technique offered little prospect for the fast bowlers who were usually more effective the faster they bowled but on the generally fast, true decks in Australia, there was an opportunity because a fast, short-pitched (one which hits the pitch first in the bowlers half of the pitch before searing up towards the batter) delivery with a legside line would, disconcertingly, tend at upwards of 90 mph (145 km/h) towards the batter’s head.  The idea was that in attempting to avoid injury by fending off the ball with the bat, the batter would be dismissed, caught by one of the many fielders “packed” on the legside, the other component of leg theory.

Leg theory: Lindsay Lohan’s legs.

For this reason it came to be called “fast leg theory” and it was used off and on by many sides (in Australia and England) during the 1920s but it gained its infamy (and the more evocative “bodyline” label) during the MCC’s (the designation touring England teams used until the 1970s) 1932-1933 Ashes tour of Australia.  Adopted as a tactic against the Australian batter Donald Bradman (1908–2001) against whom nothing else seemed effective (the English noting on the 1930 tour of England he’d once scored 300 runs in a day off his own bat at Leeds), bodyline became controversial after a number of batters were struck high on the body, one suffering a skull fracture (this an era in which helmets and other upper-body protection were unknown).  Such was the reaction the matter was a diplomatic incident, discussed by the respective cabinets in London and Canberra while acerbic cables were exchanged between the ACBC (Australian Cricket Board of Control) and the MCC.

Japanese leg theory: Zettai ryōiki (絶対領域) is a Japanese term which translates literally as “absolute territory” and is used variously in anime gaming and the surrounding cultural milieu.  In fashion, it refers to that area of visible bare skin above the socks (classically the above-the-knee variety) but below the hemline of a miniskirt, shorts or top.

Japanese schoolgirls, long the trend-setters of the nation's fashions, like to pair zettai ryouiki with solid fluffy (also called "plushies") leg warmers.  So influential are they that the roaming pack in this image, although they've picked up the aesthetic, are not actually real school girls.  So, beware of imitations: Tokyo, April 2024.

High-level interventions calmed thing sufficiently for the tour to continue which ended with the tourists winning the series (and thus the Ashes) 4-1.  The tour remains the high-water mark of fast leg theory because although it continued to be used when conditions were suitable, the effectiveness was stunted by batters adjusting their techniques and, later in the decade, the MCC updated their rule book explicitly to proscribe “direct attack” (ie deliveries designed to hit the batter rather than the stumps) bowling, leaving the judgment of what constituted that to the umpires.  Although unrelated and an attempt to counter the “negative” legside techniques which had evolved in the 1950s to limit scoring, further rule changes in 1957 banned the placement of more than two fielders behind square on the leg side, thus rendering impossible the setting of a leg theory field.  Despite all this, what came to be called “intimidatory short pitched bowling” continued, one of the reasons helmets began to appear in the 1970s and the rule which now applies is that only one such delivery is permitted per over.  It has never been a matter entirely about sportsmanship and within the past decade, the Australian test player Phillip Hughes (1988-2014) was killed when struck on the neck (while wearing a helmet) by a short-pitched delivery which severed an artery.

Targa

Targa (pronounced ta-gah)

(1) A model name trade-marked by Porsche AG in 1966.

(2) In casual use, a generic description of cars with a removable roof panel between the windscreen and a truncated roof structure ahead of the rear window.

1966 (in the context of the Porsche): From the Targa Florio race in Sicily, first run in 1906 and last staged in its classic form in 1973.  In many European languages, targa (or derivatives) existed and most were related to the Proto-Germanic targǭ (edge), from the primitive Indo-European dorg- (edge, seam), from the Old Norse targa (small round shield) and the Old High German zarga (edge, rim).  The modern Italian targa (plate, shingle; name-plate; number plate or license plate; plaque; signboard; target (derived from the rounded oval or rectangle shield used in medieval times)) was ultimately from the Frankish targa (shield).  In the Old English targa (a light shield) was also from the Proto-Germanic targǭ and was cognate with the Old Norse targa and the Old High German zarga (source of the German Zarge); it was the source of the Modern English target.  The Proto-Germanic targǭ dates from the twelfth century and “target” in the sense of “round object to be aimed at in shooting” emerged in the mid eighteenth century and was used originally in archery.  Targa is a noun; the noun plural is targas.

1974 Leyland P76 Targa Florio in Omega Navy, Aspen Green & Nutmeg (without the side graphics).

Although, especially when fitted with the 4.4 litre (269 cubic inch) V8, it was in many ways at least as good as the competition, the Australian designed and built Leyland P76 is remembered as the Antipodean Edsel; a total failure.  It was doomed by poor build quality, indifferent dealer support and the misfortune of being a big (in local terms) car introduced just before the first oil shock hit and the world economy sunk into the severe recession which marked the end of the long, post war boom.  It vanished in 1975, taking with it Leyland Australia but it did have one quixotic moment of glory, setting the fastest time on Special Stage 8 of the 1974 World Cup Rally, run on the Targa Florio circuit in Palermo, Sicily.  The big V8 machine out-paced the rest of the field by several minutes and to mark the rare success, Leyland Australia built 488 "Targa Florio" versions.  Available in Omega Navy, Aspen Green or Nutmeg (a shade of brown which seemed to stalk the 1970s), the special build was mechanically identical to other V8 P76s with automatic transmission but did include a sports steering wheel and aluminium road wheels, both intended for the abortive Force 7, a two-door version which was ungainly but did offer the functionality of a hatchback.  In a typical example of Leyland's mismanagement, the Force 7 was being developed just as the other local manufacturers were in about to drop their big two-doors, demand having evaporated after a brief vogue.  Leyland do however deserve credit for their plans to name the luxury version of the Force 7 the Tour de Force. 

Except (usually) those who stick to numbers (Mercedes-Benz the classic example), coming up with a name for a car can be a tricky business, especially if someone objects.  In 1972 Ford of England was taken to court by Granada Television after choosing to call their new car a Granada though the judge gave the argument short shrift, pointing out (1) it was unlikely anyone would confuse a car with a TV channel and (2) neither the city nor the province of Granada in Spain’s Andalusia region had in 1956 complained when the name was adopted for the channel.  The suit was thrown out and the Ford Granada went on to great success.  Ford’s US operation had less success in 1965 when trying to sell the Mustang in the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany, the old West Germany (1949-1990)) because Krupp AG held (until December 31 1979) exclusive rights to the name which it used on a range of trucks.  A Mustang couldn’t be confused with a truck (though some snobby types in France might have suggested otherwise) but Ford’s legal advice was to settle rather than sue so they attempted to buy the rights.  The offer was rebuffed so for years Mustangs in the FRG were sold as the “T-5” which was the car’s project name during its development.  Almost identical to the US version but for the badges, it was one of the most popular US cars sold in Europe, aided by the then attractive US$-Deutsche Mark exchange rate and its availability in military P-X stores, service personnel able to buy at a discount and subsequently have the car shipped back to the US at no cost.

1970 Porsche 914/6: Porsche built the mid-engined 914 exclusively with a targa top.  The 914 was the first of a number of attempts by Porsche’s engineers to convince customers there were better configurations than the rear-engine layout used on the 911 & 912.  The customers continued to demand 911s and it remains available to this day.

1962 Daimler SP250 (née Dart).

The Daimler SP250 was first shown to the public at the 1959 New York Motor Show and there the problems began.  Aware the sports car was quite a departure from the luxurious but rather staid line-up Daimler had for years offered, the company had chosen the attractively alliterative “Dart” as its name, hoping it would convey the sense of something agile and fast.  Unfortunately, Chrysler’s lawyers were faster still, objecting that they had already registered Dart as the name for a full-sized Dodge so Daimler needed a new name and quickly; the big Dodge would never be confused with the little Daimler but the lawyers insisted.  Imagination apparently exhausted, Daimler’s management also reverted to the engineering project name and thus the car became the SP250 which was innocuous enough even for Chrysler's attorneys.  The Dodge Dart didn't for long stay big, the name in 1964 re-used for a compact line although it was the generation made between 1967-1977 which was most successful and almost immediately Chrysler regretted the decision to cease production, the replacement range (the Dodge Aspen & Plymouth Volaré (1976-1980)) one of the industry's disasters.  The name was revived in 2012 for a new Dodge Dart, a small, front wheel drive (FWD) car which was inoffensive but dreary and lasted only until 2016.  The SP250 was less successful still, not even 3000 made between 1959-1964, something attributable to (1) the unfortunate styling, (2) the antiquated chassis, (3) the lack of development which meant there were basic flaws in the body engineering of the early versions and (4) the lack of interest by Jaguar which in 1960 had purchased Daimler, its interest in the manufacturing capacity acquired rather than the product range.  It was a shame because the SP250's exquisite 2.5 litre (155 cubic inch) V8 deserved better.  

Lindsay Lohan with Porsche 911 Targa 4 (997), West Hollywood, 2008.  The Targa was reportedly leased by her former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

Sometimes though, numbers could upset someone.  Even in the highly regulated EEC (European Economic Community, the origin of the European Union (EU)) of the 1960s, a company in most cases probably couldn’t claim exclusive rights to a three number sequence but Peugeot claimed exactly that when Porsche first showed their new 901 in 1963.  Asserting they possessed the sole right to sell in France car with a name constructed with three numbers if the middle digit was a zero, the French requested the Germans rename the thing.  It was the era of Franco-German cooperation and Porsche did just that, announcing the new name would be 911, a machine which went on to great things and sixty years on, remains on sale although, the lineage is obvious, only the odd nut & bolt is interchangeable between the two.  So all was well that ends well even if the French case still seems dubious because Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling in France cars labelled 200 or 300 (and would soon offer the 600). Anyway, this time, it was the project name (901) which was discarded (although it remained as the prefix on part-numbers) and surviving examples of the first 82 cars produced before the name was changed are now highly prized by collectors.

Sometimes however, the industry uses weird names for no obvious reason and some of the cars produced for the JDM (Japanese domestic market) are, to Western ears, truly bizarre though perhaps for a Japanese audience they’re compellingly cool.  Whatever might be the rationale, the Japanese manufacturers have give the world some memorable monikers including (1) from Honda the Vamios Hobio Pro & the That's, (2) from Mazda the Titan Dump, the Scrum Truck & the Bongo Brawny, (3) from Mitsubishi the Super Great, the eK-Classy, the Town Box, the Mirage Dingo Teddy Bear & the Homy Super Long, (4) from Suzuki the Solio Bandit & the Mighty Boy, (5) from Toyota the Royal Lounge Alphard, (6) from Subaru the Touring Bruce, (7) from Nissan the Big Thumb, the Elgrand Highway Star & the Cedric and (8) from Cony, the Guppy.

1964 Porsche 901 (left), 1968 Porsche 911L Targa (soft window) (centre) and 1969 Porsche 911S Targa (right)

Compared with that lot, Porsche deciding to call a car a Targa seems quite restrained.  Porsche borrowed the name from Targa Florio, the famous race in the hills of Sicily first run in 1906 and where Porsche in the 1950s had enjoyed some success.  Long, challenging and treacherous, it originally circumnavigated the island but the distance was gradually reduced until it was last run in its classic form in 1973 although in even more truncated form it lingered until 1977.  The construct of the name of the Targa Florio, the race in Italy from which Porsche borrowed the name, was Targa (in the sense of “plate” or “shield” + Florio, a tribute to Vincenzo Florio (1883-1959), a rich Sicilian businessman, automobile enthusiast and scion of a prominent family of industrialists and sportsmen; it was Vincenzo Florio who in 1906 founded the race.  Porsche won the race seven times between between 1963-1970 and took victory in 1973 in a 911 Carrera RSR, the car which in its street-legal (the Carrera RS) form remains the most coveted of all the 911s.

1968 Triumph TR5 with “Surrey Top”.

Porsche had since the late 1940s been building roadsters and cabriolets but while the 911 (then known internally as Project 901) was under development, it was clear US regulators, in reaction to a sharply rising death toll on the nation’s highways, were developing some quite rigorous safety standards and a number of proposals had been circulated which threatened to outlaw the traditional convertible.  Thus the approach adopted which, drawing from the company’s experience in building race cars, essentially added a stylized roll-over bar which could accommodate a detachable roof-section over the passengers and a folding rear cover which included a Perspex screen (the solid rear glass would come later).  Actually, the concept wasn’t entirely novel, Triumph introducing something similar on their TR4 roadsters (1961-1967) although their design consisted of (1) a half-hard top with an integral roll-bar & fixed glass rear window and (2) two detachable (metal & vinyl) panels which sat above the passengers.  Customers universally (and still to this day) referred to this arrangement as the “Surrey Top” although Triumph insisted only the vinyl insert and its supporting frame was the “Surrey” while the rest of the parts collectively were the “Hard Top kit”.  The targaesque top was also available on the TR5 (1967-1969; a de-tuned version sold in North America as the TR250) with twin carburetors replacing the Lucas mechanical fuel-injection used in most other markets, the more exotic system then unable to comply with the new emission standards.

Built by Ferrari: 1973 Dino 246GTS with "chairs & flares" options.

The rhyming colloquialism “chairs and flares” (C&F to the Ferrari cognoscenti and these days the early Dinos are an accepted part of the family) is a reference to a pair of (separately available) options available on later production Dino 246s.  The options were (1) seats with inserts (sometimes in a contasting color) in the style used on the 365GTB/4 (Daytona) & (2) wider Campagnolo Elektron wheels (which the factory only ever referred to by size) which necessitated flared wheel-arches.  In the early 1970s the factory wasn’t too punctilious in the keeping of records so it’s not known how many cars were originally built equipped with the wider (7½ x 14” vs 6½ x 14”) wheels but some privately maintained registers exist and on the basis of these it’s believed production was probably between 200-250 cars from a total run of 3569 (2,295 GT coupés & 1,274 GTS spyders (targa)).  They appear to have been most commonly ordered on UK & US market cars (although the numbers for Europe are described as “dubious” and thought an under-estimate; there are also an unknown number in other countries), the breakdown of verified production being:

246GT: UK=22, Europe=5, US=5.
246GTS: UK=21, Europe=2, US=91.

The “chairs and flares” cars are those which have both the Elektron option and the Daytona-style seats but because they were available separately, some were built with only one of the two, hence the existence of other slang terms in the Dino world including “Daytona package”, “Sebring spyders” and, in the UK, the brutish “big arches”.  In 1974, the Dino's option list (in US$) comprised:

Power windows: $270.00
Metalic Paint: $270.00
Leather upholstery: $450.00
Daytona type central seat panels: $115.00
Air-conditioning: $770.00
14 x 7½ wheels & fender flares: $680.00
AM/FM/SW radio: $315.00
Electric antenna & speakers: $100.00

At a combined US$795.00, the C&F combination has proved a good investment, now adding significantly to the price of the anyway highly collectable Dino.  Although it's hard to estimate the added value because so many other factors influence calculation, all else being equal, the premium would seem to to be well over US$100,000.  Because it involves only wheels, upholstery and metal, the modifications are not technically difficult to emulate although the price of a modified vehicle will not match that of an original although unlike some of the more radical modifications to Ferraris (such as conversions to roadsters), creating a C&F out of a standard 246 seems not to lower its value.  These things are always relative; in 1974 the C&F option added 5.2% to the Dino GTS's list price and was just under a third the cost of a new small (in US terms as "sub-compact") car such as the Chevrolet Vega (1970-1977).

An enduring design: 2023 Porsche 911 Targa 4 (992).

Porsche didn’t complicate things, in 1966 offering the Targa as an alternative to the familiar coupé, then in series production since 1964.  Briefly, the company flirted with calling the car the 911 Flori but ultimately Targa was preferred and the appropriate trademarks were applied for in 1965, the factory apparently discovering targa in Italian means “number plate” or “license plate” only that year when the translators were working on international editions of the sales brochures.  The now familiar fixed, heated rear screen in safety glass was first offered in 1967 as an alternative to the one in fold-down plastic one and such was the demand it soon became the standard fitting.  The Targa carried over into the 911’s second and third generation being, re-designed for 1993 in a way that dispensed with the roll bar and it wouldn’t be until 2011 the familiar shape returned.

1970 Iso Grifo targa (Series 1, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre) Chevrolet V8).

Among the small volume manufactures which in the post-war years found a lucrative niche in combining sensuous European coachwork with the cheap, powerful and robust American V8s, there was a focus of two-door coupés because (1) this was the example set by Ferrari and (2) there most demand in the segment clearly existed.  The ecosystem was sent extinct by the first oil shock of the early 1970s but in the era, some did offer convertibles and where not, there were specialists prepared to help.  There was though, the odd targa.  The achingly lovely Iso Grifo spyder (roadster) shown at the Geneva Motor Show in 1964 never reached production but in 1966, less than two years into the Grifo’s life (during which almost 100 had been made), the factory put a targa version on their stand at the Turin Motor Show.  It was only ever available to special order on a POA (price on application) basis and between then and the shuttering of the factory in 1974, fourteen Series I and four series II targas (at least one equipped with the 454 cubic inch (7.4 litre) big block Chevrolet V8) were completed.