Ultracrepidarian

Ultracrepidarian (pronounced uhl-truh-krep-i-dair-ee-uhn)

Of or pertaining to a person who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside their area of expertise

1819: An English adaptation of the historic words sūtor, ne ultra crepidam, uttered by the Greek artist Apelles and reported by the Pliny the Elder.  Translating literally as “let the shoemaker venture no further” and sometimes cited as ne supra crepidam sūtor judicare, the translation something like “a cobbler should stick to shoes”.  From the Latin, ultra is beyond, sūtor is cobbler and crepidam is accusative singular of crepida (from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís)) and means sandal or sole of a shoe.  Ultracrepidarian is a noun & verb and ultracrepidarianism is a noun; the noun plural is ultracrepidarians.  For humorous purposes, forms such as ultracrepidarist, ultracrepidarianish, ultracrepidarianize & ultracrepidarianesque have been coined; all are non-standard.

Ultracrepidarianism describes the tendency among some to offer opinions and advice on matters beyond their competence.  The word entered English in 1819 when used by English literary critic and self-described “good hater”, William Hazlitt (1778–1830), in an open letter to William Gifford (1756–1826), editor of the Quarterly Review, a letter described by one critic as “one of the finest works of invective in the language” although another suggested it was "one of his more moderate castigations" a hint that though now neglected, for students of especially waspish invective, he can be entertaining.  The odd quote from him would certainly lend a varnish of erudition to trolling.  Ultracrepidarian comes from a classical allusion, Pliny the Elder (circa 24-79) recording the habit of the famous Greek painter Apelles (a fourth century BC contemporary of Alexander the Great (Alexander III of Macedon, 356-323 BC)), to display his work in public view, then conceal himself close by to listen to the comments of those passing.  One day, a cobbler paused and picked fault with Apelles’ rendering of shoes and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the sandal’s errant straps.  Encouraged, the amateur critic then let his eye wander above the ankle and suggested how the leg might be improved but this Apelles rejected, telling him to speak only of shoes and otherwise maintain a deferential silence.  Pliny hinted the artist's words of dismissal may not have been polite.

So critics should comment only on that about which they know.  The phrase in English is usually “cobbler, stick to your last” (a last a shoemaker’s pattern, ultimately from a Germanic root meaning “to follow a track'' hence footstep) and exists in many European languages: zapatero a tus zapatos is the Spanish, schoenmaker, blijf bij je leest the Dutch, skomager, bliv ved din læst the Danish and schuster, bleib bei deinen leisten, the German.  Pliny’s actual words were ne supra crepidam judicaret, (crepidam a sandal or the sole of a shoe), but the idea is conveyed is in several ways in Latin tags, such as Ne sutor ultra crepidam (sutor means “cobbler”, a word which survives in Scotland in the spelling souter).  The best-known version is the abbreviated tag ultra crepidam (beyond the sole), and it’s that which Hazlitt used to construct ultracrepidarian.  Crepidam is from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís) and has no link with words like decrepit or crepitation (which are from the Classical Latin crepare (to creak, rattle, or make a noise)) or crepuscular (from the Latin word for twilight); crepidarian is an adjective rare perhaps to the point of extinction meaning “pertaining to a shoemaker”.

The related terms are "Nobel disease" & "Nobel syndrome" which are used to describe some of the opinions offered by Nobel laureates on subjects beyond their specialization.  In some cases this is "demand" rather than "supply" driven because, once a prize winner is added to a media outlet's "list of those who comment on X", they are sometimes asked questions about matters of which they know little.  This happens because some laureates in the three "hard" prizes (physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine) operate in esoteric corners of their discipline; asking a particle physicist something about plasma physics on the basis of their having won the physics prize may not elicit useful information.  Of course those who have won the economics or one of what are now the DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) prizes (peace & literature) may be assumed to have helpful opinions on everything.

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

In 1973, when a million dollars was a still lot of money, the National Gallery of Australia, a little controversially, paid Aus$1.3 million for Jackson Pollock’s (1912-1956) Number 11, 1952, popularly known as Blue Poles since it was first exhibited in 1954, the new name reputedly chosen by the artist.  It was some years ago said to be valued at up to US$100 million but, given the increase in the money supply (among the rich who trade this stuff) over the last two decades odd, that estimate may now be conservative and some have suggested as much as US$400 million might be at least the ambit claim.

Number 11 (Blue poles, 1952), Oil, enamel and aluminum paint with glass on canvas.

Blue Poles emerged during Pollock’s "drip period" (1947-1950), a method which involved techniques such throwing paint at a canvas spread across the floor.  The art industry liked these (often preferring the more evocative term "action painting") and they remain his most popular works, although at this point, he abandoned the dripping and moved to his “black porings phase” a darker, simpler style which didn’t attract the same commercial interest.  He later returned to more colorful ways but his madness and alcoholism worsened; he died in a drink-driving accident.

Alchemy (1947), Oil, aluminum, alkyd enamel paint with sand, pebbles, fibers, and broken wooden sticks on canvas.

Although the general public remained uninterested (except by the price tags) or sceptical, there were critics, always drawn to a “troubled genius”, who praised Pollock’s work and the industry approves of any artist who (1) had the decency to die young and (2) produced stuff which can sell for millions.  US historian of art, curator & author Helen A Harrison (b 1943; director (1990-2024) of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, the former home and studio of the Abstract Expressionist artists Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in East Hampton, New York) is an admirer, noting the “pioneering drip technique…” which “…introduced the notion of action painting", where the canvas became the space with which the artist actively would engage”.  As a thumbnail sketch she offered:

Number 14: Gray (1948), Enamel over gesso on paper.

“Reminiscent of the Surrealist notions of the subconscious and automatic painting, Pollock's abstract works cemented his reputation as the most critically championed proponent of Abstract Expressionism. His visceral engagement with emotions, thoughts and other intangibles gives his abstract imagery extraordinary immediacy, while his skillful use of fluid pigment, applied with dance-like movements and sweeping gestures that seldom actually touched the surface, broke decisively with tradition. At first sight, Pollock's vigorous method appears to create chaotic labyrinths, but upon close inspection his strong rhythmic structures become evident, revealing a fascinating complexity and deeper significance.  Far from being calculated to shock, Pollock's liquid medium was crucial to his pictorial aims.  It proved the ideal vehicle for the mercurial content that he sought to communicate 'energy and motion made visible - memories arrested in space'.”

Number 13A: Arabesque (1948), Oil and enamel on canvas.

Critics either less visionary or more fastidious seemed often as appalled by Pollock’s violence of technique as they were by the finished work (or “products” as some labelled the drip paintings), questioning whether any artistic skill or vision even existed, one finding them “…mere unorganized explosions of random energy, and therefore meaningless.”  The detractors used the language of academic criticism but meant the same thing as the frequent phrase of an unimpressed public: “That’s not art, anyone could do that.”

Number 1, 1949 (1949), Enamel and metallic paint on canvas. 

There have been famous responses to that but Ms Harrison's was practical, offering people the opportunity to try.  To the view that “…people thought it was arbitrary, that anyone can fling paint around”, Ms Harrison conceded it was true anybody could “fling paint around” but that was her point, anybody could, but having flung, they wouldn’t “…necessarily come up with anything.”  In 2010, she released The Jackson Pollock Box, a kit which, in addition to an introductory text, included paint brushes, drip bottles and canvases so people could do their own flinging and compare the result against a Pollock.  After that, they may agree with collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) that Pollock was “...the greatest painter since Picasso” or remain unrepentant ultracrepidarians.  Of course, many who thought their own eye for art quite well-trained didn't agree with Ms Guggenheim.  In 1945, just after the war, Duff Cooper (1890–1954), then serving as Britain's ambassador to France, came across Pablo Picasso (1881–1973) leaving an exhibition of paintings by English children aged 5-10 and in his diary noted the great cubist saying he "had been much impressed".  "No wonder" added the ambassador, "the pictures are just as good as his".   

Helen A Harrison, The Jackson Pollock Box (Cider Mill Press, 96pp, ISBN-10:1604331860, ISBN-13:978-1604331868).

Dresses & drips: Three photographs by Cecil Beaton (1904-1980), shot for a three-page feature in Vogue (March 1951) titled American Fashion: The New Soft Look which juxtaposed Pollock’s paintings hung in New York’s Betty Parsons Gallery with the season’s haute couture by Irene (1872-1951) & Henri Bendel (1868-1936).

Beaton choose the combinations of fashion and painting and probably pairing Lavender Mist (1950, left) with a short black ball gown of silk paper taffeta with large pink bow at one shoulder and an asymmetrical hooped skirt by Bendel best illustrates the value of his trained eye.  Critics and social commentators have always liked these three pages, relishing the opportunity to comment on the interplay of so many of the clashing forces of modernity: the avant-garde and fashion, production and consumption, abstraction and representation, painting and photography, autonomy and decoration, masculinity and femininity, art and commerce.  Historians of art note it too because it was the abstract expressionism of the 1940s which was both uniquely an American movement and the one which in the post-war years saw the New York supplant Paris as the centre of Western art.  There have been interesting discussions about when last it could be said Western art had a "centre".

Eye of the beholder: Portrait of Lindsay Lohan in the style of Claude Monet at craiyon.com and available at US$26 on an organic cotton T-shirt made in a factory powered by renewable energy.

Whether the arguments about what deserves to be called “art” began among prehistoric “artists” and their critics in caves long ago isn’t known but it’s certainly a dispute with a long history.  In the sense it’s a subjective judgment the matter was doubtless often resolved by a potential buyer declining to purchase but during the twentieth century it became a contested topic and there were celebrated exhibits and squabbles which for decades played out before, in the post modern age, the final answer appeared to be something was art if variously (1) the creator said it was or (2) an art critic said it was or (3) it was in an art gallery or (4) the price tag was sufficiently impressive.

So what constitutes “art” is a construct of time, place & context which evolves, shaped by historical, cultural, social, economic, political & personal influences, factors which in recent years have had to be cognizant of the rise of cultural equivalency, the recognition that Western concepts such as the distinction between “high” (or “fine”) art and “folk” (or “popular”) art can’t be applied to work from other traditions where cultural objects are not classified by a graduated hierarchy.  In other words, everybody’s definition is equally valid.  That doesn’t mean there are no longer gatekeepers because the curators in institutions such as museums, galleries & academies all discriminate and thus play a significant role in deciding what gets exhibited, studied & promoted, even though few would now dare to suggest what is art and what is not: that would be cultural imperialism.

In the twentieth century it seemed to depend on artistic intent, something which transcended a traditional measure such as aesthetic value but as the graphic art in advertising and that with a political purpose such as agitprop became bigger, brighter and more intrusive, such forms also came to be regarded as art or at least worth of being studied or exhibited on the same basis, in the same spaces as oil on canvas portraits & landscapes.  Once though, an unfamiliar object in such places could shock as French painter & sculptor Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) managed in 1917 when he submitted a porcelain urinal as his piece for an exhibition in New York, his rationale being “…everyday objects raised to the dignity of a work of art by the artist's act of choice.”  Even then it wasn’t a wholly original approach but the art establishment has never quite recovered and from that urinal to Dadaism, to soup cans to unmade beds, it became accepted that “anything goes” and people should be left to make of it what they will.  Probably the last remaining reliable guide to what really is "art" remains the price tag.

1948 Cisitalia 202 GT (left; 1947-1952) and 1962 Jaguar E-Type (1961-1974; right), Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York City.

Urinals tend not to be admired for their aesthetic qualities but there are those who find beauty in things as diverse as mathematical equations and battleships.  Certain cars have long been objects which can exert an emotional pull on those with a feeling for such things and if the lines are sufficiently pleasing, many flaws in engineering are often overlooked.  New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) acknowledged in 1972 that such creations can be treated as works of art when they added a 1948 Cisitalia 202 GT finished in “Cisitalia Red” (MoMA object number 409.1972) to their collection, the press release noting it was “…the first time that an art museum in the U.S. put a car into its collection.”  Others appeared from time-to-time and while the 1953 Willys-Overland Jeep M-38A1 Utility Truck (MoMA object number 261.2002) perhaps is not conventionally beautiful, its brutish functionalism has a certain simplicity of form and in the exhibition notes MoMA clarified somewhat by describing it as a “rolling sculpture”, presumably in the spirit of a urinal being a “static sculpture”, both to be admired as pieces of design perfectly suited to their intended purpose, something of an art in itself.  Of the 1962 Jaguar E-Type (XKE) open two seater (OTS, better known as a roadster and acquired as MoMA object number 113.996), there was no need to explain because it’s one of the most seductive shapes ever rendered in metal.  Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) attended the 1961 Geneva Motor Show (now defunct) when the Jaguar staged its stunning debut and part of E-Type folklore is he called it “the most beautiful car in the world”.  Whether those words ever passed his lips isn’t certain because the sources vary slightly in detail and il Commendatore apparently never confirmed or denied the sentiment but it’s easy to believe and many to this day agree just looking at the thing can be a visceral experience.  The MoMA car is finished in "Opalescent Dark Blue" with a grey interior and blue soft-top; there are those who think the exhibit would be improved if it was in BRG (British Racing Green) over tan leather but anyone who finds a bad line on a Series 1 E-Type OTS is truly an ultracrepidarian.   

Bonk

Bonk (pronounced bongk)

(1) A bump on the head (usually not severe).

(2) To hit, strike, collide etc; any minor collision or blow.

(3) In slang, a brief intimacy between two people, usually with a suggestion of infidelity; often modified with the adjective quick and only ever used where the act is consensual (less common in North America).

(4) In sports medicine, a condition of sudden, severe fatigue in an endurance sports event, typically induced by glycogen depletion (also in the phrase “hit the wall”).

(5) In snowboarding, to hit something with the front of the board, especially in midair.

(6) In zoology, an animal call resembling "bonk" (such as the call of the pobblebonk (any of various Australian frogs of the genus Limnodynastes)).

1931: A creation of Modern English, the origin remains uncertain but most suspect it was likely imitative of sounds of impact (like bong, bump, bounce or bang) and thus onomatopoetic.  As a slang term for an affaire de coeur, use was first noted in 1975 and has always, depending on context, carried an implication of something illicit or quickly done; purely recreational though always consensual.  The use in sports medicine describing the condition of glycogen depletion references a metaphorical impact as in “hitting the wall”, the first known use in 1952 in endurance sports medicine.  Bonkee, as a descriptor for a "woman of loose virtue", appears to have been a 2014 creation which never caught on which is a shame because there are all sorts of cases where the companion terms "bonker" & "bonkee" might have been handy .  The form "bonkers", referring to the deranged, dated from circa 1957 and was apparently unrelated to the earlier naval slang for “drunk” but alluded rather to what could be the the consequence of a “bonk on the head”.  The third-person singular simple present is bonks, the present participle, bonking and the simple past and past participle, bonked.  Bonk & bonking are nouns & verbs, bonker is a noun, bonky is an adjective, bonked is a verb and bonkers is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is bonks.

Bonkers: "Last Call" 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170 in "plum crazy" (one of the retro colors which reprised those used by Chrysler in the "psychedelic era" of the late 1960s).  3300 were produced, many of which are now being advertised for sale at well above the RRP (recommended retail price).

The Demon 170 was released as part of Dodge’s “Last Call” programme which marked the end of the corporation's run of high-performance V8s, a tradition dating from the early 1950s.  Offered in a bewildering array of configurations in a process which was something like Nellie Melba's (1861-1931) "farewell" tours, the SRT Demon 170 was the most bonkers of a generally bonkers lot.  Rated at 1,025 hp (764 kW), the factory claimed it could accelerate from 0-60 mph (100 km/h) in 1.66 seconds with an elapsed time in the standing ¼ mile (400 metres for those who insist) of 8.91 seconds (terminal speed 151 mph (243 km/h)), setting the mark as the worlds quickest ever standard production car, a reasonable achievement for something weighing 4275 lbs (1939 kg).  By world standards it was also very cheap and on the basis of cost-breakdown vs performance, there was nothing like it on the planet.  In British (and other English-speaking regions although rare in the US) use, "bonkers" can and often is used in an entirely non-pejorative way to suggest something or someone verging on the irrational but in some way astonishing, admirable or inspiring.  Road cars with 600+ horsepower V8 & V12 engines are of course bonkers but we'll miss them when they're gone and it would seem the end is nigh.  Greta Thunberg (b 2003) has expressed no regret at the extinction of this species.  

Bonking Boris

Hand-turned fish bonkers on sale in Jaffray, a village in the south-western Canadian province of British Columbia (left) and the front page of The Sun (7 September 2018; right), a tabloid which rarely lets an alliterative opportunity pass by.  

The noun bonker is (1) a short, blunt hardwood club used by fishers efficiently to dispatch (ie bonking them dead) just-caught fish and (2) according to the Murdoch tabloid The Sun, the adulterous Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022).  A bonk by Boris or the club and a not wholly dissimilar outcome ensues; a one-time employer called bonking Boris "ineffably duplicitous" and the estranged (now former) Mrs Johnson presumably agreed.  At the time, the former prime minister had "a bit of previous" in extra-marital bonking and when this one was announced, it was with an alliterative flourish not seen since the headline “BORIS BACKS BREXIT”.  His resignation from Theresa May's (Lady May, b 1956; UK prime-minister 2016-2019) government was unrelated to bonking (as far as is known) and came, in July 2018, three days after a cabinet meeting at Chequers (the prime-minister's country house), where agreement was reached on Mrs May’s Brexit strategy, a document compromised by the need to make a nonsensical impossibility look like good policy.  That can be done but it requires rare skill to be in Downing Street and it's been some time since that could be said. 

Freed by his resignation from the burdens of the Foreign Office, bonking Boris was clearly unconcerned at rumors his opponents in the party were assembling a dossier of some four-thousand words detailing his cheating ways, fondness for cocaine and failings of character and turned his attention to a campaign for the Tory leadership.  As wonderfully unpredictable as the politics of the time were fluid, nobody was quite sure whether he’d go into the inevitable election or second referendum as "leave" or "remain"; it would depend on this and that.  In the end, he remained a leaver and things worked out well, his election victory meaning that for one, brief, shining moment, the three world leaders with the best hair all had nuclear weapons at the same time.

Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021; left), Boris Johnson (centre) and Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011; right).

Some hairstyles are more amenable than others to a quick post-bonk rectification.  Kim Jong-un's cut is probably quite good and would bounce back from a bonk with little more than a run-through with the fingers.  Donald Trump however would likely need both tools and product for a post-bonk fix.  Mr Trump usually appears well-fixed unless disturbed by breezes any higher than 2 on the Beaufort scale and even a perfunctory bonk is probably equal to at least 4 on the scale so it would have been interesting to see if Stormy Daniels (Stephanie Gregory, b 1979) lived up to her (stage) name although Mr Trump has denied that bonk ever happened.  Mr Johnson's hair so often looks post-bonk that either his conquests are more frequent even than has been rumored or he asks for a JBF with every cut.  One UK publication suggested exactly that, hinting his instruction was "not one hair in place".  That has the advantage for Mr Johnson in that it's a style essentially the same pre-bonk, mid-bonk and post-bonk and thus pricelessly ambiguous in that merely by looking at him, one couldn't tell if he was going to or coming from a bonk although, one assumes, whichever it was, a bonk would never be far from his mind.  Whatever the criticisms of Mr Johnson's premiership (and there were a few), it's to his eternal credit that in his resignation honours list Ms Kelly Jo Dodge (for 27 years the parliamentary hairdresser) was created a Member of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (MBE) for "parliamentary service".  In those decades, she can have faced few challenges more onerous than Mr Johnson’s hair yet never once failed to make it an extraordinary example in the (actually technically difficult) “not one hair in place” style.  Few honours have been so well deserved.

A bandaged Lindsay Lohan waking dazed and confused after a bonk on the head in Falling for Christmas (2022; left) and on the move in Irish Wish (2024).   

In May 2021, Netflix & Lindsay Lohan executed what became a three movie deal, the first (Falling for Christmas) released in the northern winter of 2022, just in time for the season.  She played the protagonist, a pampered heiress who loses her memory after suffering a bonk on the head, waking up to a new life.  The second Netflix release opens in February 2024 and in Irish Wish, the plotline involves her spontaneously wishing for something, subsequently waking up to find the wish granted.  So it’s a variation on the theme of the first (though without the bonk on the head), the twist being in the theme of “be careful what you wish for”.

Bonking Barnaby and the bonk ban

Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954; prime-minister of Australia 2015-2018), a student of etymology, was as fond as those at The Sun of alliteration and when writing his memoir (A Bigger Picture (2020)) he included a short chapter entitled "Barnaby and the bonk ban".  As well as the events which lent the text it's title, the chapter was memorable for his inclusion of perhaps the most vivid thumbnail sketch of Barnaby Joyce (b 1967; thrice (between local difficulties) deputy prime minister of Australia 2016-2022) yet penned:

"Barnaby is a complex, intense, furious personality.  Red-faced, in full flight he gives the impression he's about to explode.  He's highly intelligent, often good-humoured but also has a dark and almost menacing side - not unlike Abbott (Tony Abbott (b 1957; prime-minister of Australia 2013-2015)) - that seems to indicate he wrestles with inner troubles and torments."

Mr Turnbull and Mr Joyce in parliament, House of Representatives, Canberra, ACT.

The substantive matter was the revelation in mid-2017 the press had become aware Mr Joyce (a married man with four daughters) was (1) conducting an affair with a member of his staff and (2) that the young lady was with child.  Mr Turnbull recorded that when asked, Mr Joyce denied both "rumors", which does sound like a lie but in the narrow sense may have verged on "the not wholly implausible" on the basis that, as he pointed out in a later television interview, the question of paternity was at the time “...a bit of a grey area”.  Mr Joyce and his mistress later married and now have two children so all's well that end's well (at least for them) and Mr Turnbull didn't so much shut the gate after the horse had bolted as install inter-connecting doors in the stables.  His amendments to the Australian Ministerial Code of Conduct (an accommodating document very much in the spirit of Lord Castlereagh's (1769–1822; UK foreign secretary 1812-1822) critique of the Holy Alliance) banned ministers from bonking their staff which sounds uncontroversial but was silent on them bonking the staff of the minister in the office down the corridor.  So the net effect was probably positive in that staff having affairs with their ministerial boss would gain experience through cross-exposure to other portfolio areas although there's the obvious moral hazard in that they might be tempted to conduct trysts just to engineer a transfer in the hope of career advancement.  There are worse reasons for having an affair and a bonk for a new job seems a small price to pay.  It's been done before.

Bonk in progress, California State Polytechnic University, Humboldt, May 2024.

Bonk in the sense of “a blow to the head” was in May 2024 adapted for use in memes and other publicity tools associated with the protests staged on US university campuses demanding the institutions’ administrators divest from economic and other engagements with Israel and in support of the cause of the Palestinian people for (variously) statehood or freedom from repression.  The scenes were reminiscent of Vietnam War era protests but the emergence of the water-cooler jug as an icon of political dissent was an unexpected moment of levity.  The origin of that was a viral (“bonk, bonk, bonk”) video clip showing an unidentified protester at the California State Polytechnic University, Humboldt bonking a uniformed law-enforcement officer on the helmet with an empty jug (believed to be a capacity of 5 US gallons (19 litres)) of the type which sits atop a water cooler.

Although recalling the similarly alliterative “burn baby, burn” slogan chanted during the Watts race riots in Los Angeles in August 1965, the “bonk, bonk, bonk” was more a symbol of, if not exactly passive resistance, then certainly something short of actual violence although in a legal sense it may have been an instance of both assault and battery as well as other offences.  Around the country, stickers, posters and the inevitable T-shirts appeared within hours with slogans such as “Water Jug, Come and Take It” and “This machine bonks fascists”, a reference to the “THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS” message the left-wing US folk singer Woody Guthrie (1912–1967) wrote on his guitars.  Whether the water jug (bonking and not) will endure as a symbol of protest will depend, like many aspects of language, on whether it gains a sustained critical mass of use.

The "bonk, bonk, bonk" viral video.  In the conventional sense the production values weren't high but that very quality of authenticity accounted for its success.

Hagiography

Hagiography (pronounced hag-ee-og-ruh-fee or hey-jee-og-ruh-fee)

(1) The writing and critical study of the lives of the saints; hagiology.

(2) A biography of a saint.

(3) In biographical publishing & criticism, works essentially promotional or otherwise uncritical; any biography that idealizes or idolizes its subject; a biography which is uncritically supportive of its subject, often including embellishments or propaganda.

1805–1820: A compound word, the construct being hagio- + -graphy.  Hagio was from a combining form of the Ancient Greek ἅγιος (hágios) (holy, saintly) and the -graphy element was from the Ancient Greek -γραφία (-graphía) (writing), thus “sacred writing”.  In English, the word was first used in the 1820s of studies (strictly speaking often not biographies by modern standards) of the lives of saints, use later extended to “sacred writing” in general and only (and scholars are not in accord about quite when) sometime in the late nineteenth century to biographies and other secular works which were uncritical (especially if some criticism was obviously justified).  The suspicion is that such works would have been referred to as “hagiographic” before the idea of “the hagiography” came to be accepted as a definable category; it’s now an accepted slur among book reviewers.  The hagiography as a device of propaganda has a long tradition and there are studies of saints who, although known to have lived not wholly saintly lives, certainly seemed to have after some medieval hagiologists had finished with them.  The earlier forms were hagiographer (1650s), hagiographical (1580s) and Hagiographic (1809).  Hagiography, hagiologist, hagiology & hagiographer are nouns, hagiographic & hagiographical are adjectives and hagiographically is an adverb; the noun plural is hagiographies.

Because of the inherent limitations in the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, their not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of trends and patterns.  The assumption is the use of the word "hagiography" increased as it came to be applied to secular literature and (especially from the early twentieth century onwards) both the volume of biographies and reviews & criticism of them became more frequent.    

Among the earliest forms of formally structured propaganda, the use can be traced to Hagiographa, the Greek designation of the Ketuvim, the third part of the Jewish Scriptures and the modern idea of the hagiography is that of a work which treats ordinary, flawed human subjects (as all the saints of course were) as saintly.  One outfit for which hagiography has been perfected is the DPRK (the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (or North Korea)).  It’s often referred to as a hermit state shrouded in mystery but the Korean Central News Agency (KCNA), the regime’s official state news agency is surprisingly energetic in its production of information about the nation for both domestic & international consumption.  In 2008, the KCNA issued the “official biography” of Kim Jong-il (Kim II, 1941-2011; The Dear Leader of DPRK (North Korea) 1994-2011), making clear that from the moment of his birth, truly he was amazing.  He was born inside a log cabin beneath Korea’s most sacred mountain and in the moment of delivery, a shooting star brought forth a spontaneous change from winter to summer and there appeared in the sky, a double rainbow.  That year there was no spring because the appearance of The Dear Leader on Earth brought sunlight and prosperity, the finest summer the nation has even known.  Exceptional from his first breath, The Dear Leader was not subject to bowel movements, never needing to defecate or urinate although this seems not to be an inheritable genetic trait of the dynasty because Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; The Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011) is known to be accompanied on his travels always by some form of portable toilet.  So discriminating was the palette of The Dear Leader that he employed staff to inspect every grain of rice by hand to ensure each piece was of uniform length, plumpness, and color, The Dear Leader eating only perfectly-sized rice.  Although, just to illustrate the pointlessness of the capitalist pursuit, he only ever played one round of golf and that on the country’s notoriously difficult 7,700 yard (7040 m) course at Pyongyang, he took only 34 strokes to complete the 18 holes, a round which included five holes-in-ones.  Every word the KCNA released was said to be true but in the West, it was labelled as “beyond hagiographic” (except for the bit about the rice which was judged “plausible”).

Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December 2011.

Apparently the author of 39 books on topics as diverse as travelling in Africa and a multi-language illustrated dictionary of photography & cinematography (including a glossary of terms), author Derek Townsend was obviously prolific but it may be that in one volume, he produced what the English literature & political science departments in any university could use as the definitive case study of the hagiography.  Townsend’s Jigsaw: The Biography of Johannes Bjelke-Petersen : Statesman - Not Politician (Sneyd and Morley, Sydney, 1983 (ISBN-13: 9780949344007)) was the “authorized biography” of Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen KCMG (1911–2005; premier of the Australian state of Queensland 1968-1987) and it was an extraordinary book in that not one reviewer could find one fragment of text which was anything but complimentary and gushingly so.  To be fair, the facts (dates and locations etc) all appeared to be correct.  What was best part however was for the hardback edition, a biographical piece (thumbnail sketch just not sufficient) describing the author was included in which he was described as:

"...professional traveller, acclaimed explorer, technologist, government strategist and one of the most diverse business entrepreneurs... an international best-selling author [whose] non-fiction books have sold millions of copies".  Said to have been "...one of the first visitors allowed into Zanzibar after the 'revolution'... numerous government leaders have extended their hospitality - presidents Jomo Kenyatta, Julius Nyerere, Milton Obote, Dr Eric Williams and Prime Minister Indira Gandhi to mention but a few".  He was also "...actively concerned with sophisticated design technology of early commercial turboprop aircraft as well as involvement with many aspects of Britain’s first defensive surface to air (SAM) guided missile, the ramjet powered Bloodhound.  For the Rank Organization, one of his many achievements was the initial responsibility for developing not only the marketing strategy but also the techniques of utilization for a revolutionary dry electrostatic 'copying' process now commonly known as Xerox".  Surprisingly, he didn't bother describing himself also as a "scientist" which he'd earlier done in a piece for a magazine in which he extolled the benefits of Castrol GTX motor oil.  Again, to be fair, Castrol GTX was and remains a fine lubricant.  An analysis by artificial intelligence (AI) might now help but for readers then, it was hard whether the biography or the blurb about the author was the more hagiographic.

Jigsaw (1983), a classic and perhaps the definitive book of its kind.

Someone who could write like that of themselves was clearly just the chap the premier needed for a his authorized biography which could be released during the 1983 state election and Mr Townsend didn’t disappoint, his text including phrases which lauded his subject as a “statesman extraordinaire” & “protectorate of Queensland and her people”.  Whether despite or because of Jigsaw, Mr Bjelke-Petersen’s National Party government enjoyed an extraordinary victory, defeating not only the official Australian Labor Party (ALP) opposition but securing such a majority that the Nationals no longer needed the support of the troublesome Liberal Party to form a government. 

Noose

Noose (pronounced noos)

(1) A loop with a running knot, as in a snare, lasso, or hangman's halter, that tightens as the rope is pulled; a device to restrain, bind, or trap.

(2) A tie or bond; snare.

(3) To secure by or as by a noose.

(4) To make a noose with or in (a rope or the like).

1400-1450: From the late Middle English nose (noose, loop), of unclear origin.  Etymologists have speculated it may be from the Old French nos or Old Occitan nous & nos (both forms known also in the descendent Provençal), the nominative singular or accusative plural of nou (knot), with the meaning shifting from the knot to the loop created by the knot, the French forms from the Latin nōdus (knot; node), from the primitive Indo-European root ned (to bind; to tie).  If that’s true, it was cognate with the French nœud (knot), the Portuguese nó (knot) and the Spanish nudo (knot).  The alternative etymology (which most authorities appear to find more convincing) is it was borrowed from Middle Low German nȫse (loop, noose, snare), also of obscure origin although it may have been derived from an incorrect division of ēn' ȫse (literally “a loop”), from the Middle Low German ȫse, from the Old Saxon ōsia, from the Proto-West Germanic ansiju (eyelet, loop).  It’s possible the Saterland Frisian Noose (loop, eyelet) & Oose (eyelet, loop) may have emerged from the same process.  In English, use of noose was rare prior to the early seventeenth century.  Although it’s a popular tale, it’s a myth a hangman’s noose always has 13 coils.  The old spelling nooze is long obsolete.  Noose is a noun & verb; nooser is a verb, nooselike & nooseless are adjectives and noosed & noosing are verbs; the noun plural is nooses.

The Nazis and the noose

Soviet cartoon Caricature of the defendants and the anticipated Nuremberg judgment (1946) by the Soviet artists known as the Kukryniksy: Porfiry Krylov (1902-1990), Mikhail Kupriyanov (1903-1991) & Nikolai Sokolov (1903-2000).  As the trial wore on, at least two of the defendants were recorded as requesting shirts with "larger collars" and one once removed his tie, explaining it was "suddenly feeling tight".

As a prelude to the main Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) of the most notable or representative Nazis, the list of two-dozen-odd defendants was assembled to be indicted variously for (1) conspiracy to commit a crime against peace, (2) planning or waging wars of aggression, (3) war crimes and (4) crimes against humanity.  Even before the trial started it was known the International Military Tribunal (IMT) enjoyed capital jurisdiction (although in his opening remarks the president of the tribunal took care to explain the legal basis of their right to impose death sentences) and the court-appointed psychologist noted from his interviews with the accused that all expected the proceedings to be nothing more than a Stalinesque “show trial” with the death penalty inevitable for all, something the assurances of their (German) defense council seemed little to assuage.  As representatives from the world’s press (not yet called “the media”) began to arrive they were reported as mostly sharing the assumption and even as the trial unfolded and the defendants came to realize that for at least some of them there was the prospect of avoiding the noose or perhaps even securing an acquittal, the straw polls among the journalists still thought the death sentence likely for the majority.

Soviet cartoon The twelfth hour of the Hitlerites by Boris Efimov (1900-2008), from the series Fascist Menagerie, Izvestiia, 1 January 1946.

The prospect of imminent death is said “to focus the mind” and among the military defendants, all more than once expressed the opinion that as soldiers, they were entitled to execution by firing squad rather than by the hangman’s noose, the gallows too associated with the fate of common criminals (although one avoided that by having hanged himself (technically by act of strangulation) before the trial began.  In the end, of those present in the dock, 11 were sentenced to be hanged by the neck until dead, Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945 and Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) avoiding the indignity of the noose by committing suicide, poisoning himself on the eve of his scheduled execution in circumstances which have never been clear.  Another, Erich Raeder (1876–1960; head of the German Navy 1928-1943) lodged one of the more unusual appeals after being sentenced to life imprisonment, asking that he instead receive the death penalty, life in prison apparently a worse prospect than being hanged; his appeal was declined.  Many lurid stories about the botched nature of some of the hangings circulated in the post-war years but while some might not have caused instant death, it’s unlikely any took anything like the 17 minutes it was claimed some took to die.

Caricature of Rudolf Hess at Nuremberg (1946) by David Low (1891-1963).  The author Rebecca West (1892–1983) covered the trial as a journalist and wrote some vivid thumbnail sketches, noting: "Hess was noticeable because he was so plainly mad: so plainly mad that it seemed shameful that he should be tried.  His skin was ashen and he had that odd faculty, peculiar to lunatics, of falling into strained positions which no normal person could maintain for more than a few minutes, and staying fixed in contortion for hours. He had the classless air characteristic of asylum inmates; evidently his distracted personality had torn up all clues to his past.  He looked as if his mind had no surface, as if every part of it had been blasted away except the depth where the nightmares live."

The strangest case in so many ways was that of Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi deputy führer 1933-1941).  Before the proceedings formerly commenced, the tribunal had been about to discharge Hess because it seemed clear there was sufficient doubt his mental state was adequate to ensure a fair trial and it was only an extraordinary admission from Hess himself that his display of amnesia had to that point been merely “tactical” and he was quite lucid and able to understand all that was going on.  He’d actually achieved the very thing sought by yet denied to so many defendants yet he chose instead to be tried.  His conduct thereon was just as bizarre, declining to enter a plea (the court recorded “not guilty” as a formality), often preferring to read novels rather than follow the proceedings and when his sentence was announced, he claimed not to have listened, saying, apparently without much concern he assumed it was death.  Actually, he was sentenced to imprisonment for life and with six others entered Berlin’s Spandau Prison where he would remain until 1987 when, aged 93, he hanged himself, having fashioned a noose from a length of electrical cable.  For the last two decades, he was the sole inmate of the huge facility designed to accommodate hundreds and, having entered captivity in 1941 after his bizarre “peace mission” to Scotland, had by the time of his death been locked-up for 46 years.

Burberry’s hoodie with noose, 2019, (left) and Kylie Jenner wearing a Givenchy Noose Necklace, 2023.

Because of the association with suicide, slavery and the history of lynching in the century after the US Civil War (1861-1865), the noose can be a controversial thing if invoked in an insensitive way.  Controversy though is just another technique to be weaponized when there’s the need to generate publicity and in the fashion business, it’s no longer enough to just to design something elegant or otherwise pleasing to the eye because it will barely be noticed on the catwalk and probably won’t make the magazines or become clickbait.  Thus the temptation to try to shock which will guarantee the desired publicity, the added attraction being the certainty the will do its job then quickly subside.  The Givenchy Noose Necklace model Kylie Jenner (b 1997) wore in January 2023 at Paris Fashion Week had been see before, causing a bit of a stir on the catwalk in 2021 when it was used in the fashion house’s Spring/Summer 2022 show.  Then, on cue, The Guardian called it out as “blatantly offensive”, guaranteeing even wider coverage although Givenchy solved the short-term problem by responding to the paper’s request for a comment with an Élysée-like “The house does not have an official response on this”.  They may have learned that in such matters apologies probably make things worse from Burberry’s "We are deeply sorry for the distress caused by one of the products that featured in our Autumn/Winter 2019 collection”, issued after being condemned for showing a hoodie with a noose.