Ornamentalism

Ornamentalism (pronounced awr-nuh-men-tl-iz-uhm)

(1) The desire or tendency to feature (usually what’s judged an excess of) ornamentation in design or execution (buildings, interiors, furnishings, cars, artwork etc).

(2) Any artistic or architectural style characterised by ornamentation.

(3) In the pre-revolutionary Russian literary tradition, an intricate, mannered and ostentatious prose style most prevalent in the early twentieth century.

(4) In politics, something implemented to lend the appearance of being something substantive while in reality changing little (synonymous usually with “window dressing”).

1860s: The construct was ornament + -al + -ism.  Ornament (an element of decoration; that which embellishes or adorns) was from the Old French ornement, from the Latin ornamentum (equipment, apparatus, furniture, trappings, adornment, embellishment), from ornāre, the present active infinitive of ornō (I equip, adorn). The verb was derived from the noun.  The -al suffix was from the Middle English -al, from the Latin adjectival suffix -ālis, ((the third-declension two-termination suffix (neuter -āle) used to form adjectives of relationship from nouns or numerals) or the French, Middle French and Old French –el & -al.  It was use to denote the sense "of or pertaining to", an adjectival suffix appended (most often to nouns) originally most frequently to words of Latin origin, but since used variously and also was used to form nouns, especially of verbal action.  The alternative form in English remains -ual (-all being obsolete).  The –ism suffix was from the Ancient Greek ισμός (ismós) & -isma noun suffixes, often directly, sometimes through the Latin –ismus & isma (from where English picked up ize) and sometimes through the French –isme or the German –ismus, all ultimately from the Ancient Greek (where it tended more specifically to express a finished act or thing done).  It appeared in loanwords from Greek, where it was used to form abstract nouns of action, state, condition or doctrine from verbs and on this model, was used as a productive suffix in the formation of nouns denoting action or practice, state or condition, principles, doctrines, a usage or characteristic, devotion or adherence (criticism; barbarism; Darwinism; despotism; plagiarism; realism; witticism etc).  Ornamentalism & ornamentalist are nouns; the noun plural is ornamentalisms.

Lindsay Lohan mug-shot Christmas tree ornament.  Even the blurb: “…handmade photo-fresco Ornament made with a hybrid Gypsum based polymer that has the crystaline structure of ceramics…” has about it the whiff of ornamentalism.  In some places, this ornament may be thought blasphemous.

The sense of the noun & adjective ornamental (the comparative “more ornamental”, the superlative “most ornamental”) differ from those of ornamentalism in that the former is almost always either positive or neutral.  In the narrow technical sense something ornamental has “no purpose beyond the decorative” although many “ornamental devices” often either can or do fulfill some function, thus the nuanced phrase “merely ornamental” to distinguish the pure forms.  As a noun, “ornamentals” are plants, fish and such bred or maintained for no purpose other than their aesthetic value (although obviously they also often a commercial product).

The same positive or neutral senses tend to be enjoyed by the noun & verb “ornament” which means usually “a decorative element or embellishment” (such as a ceramic piece displayed but never used for its nominal purpose).  In music it means specifically “a musical flourish not needed by the melodic or harmonic line, but which serves to decorate that line” while in the rituals of Christianity, ornaments (in this context always in the plural) are objects (crosses, altar candles, incense and such) used in church services.  So in musical and liturgical use, ornaments enjoy a duality in that they are both decorative and fulfill some function.  That is reflected in biology when the word is used to describe a characteristic that has a decorative function (typically in order to attract a mate) such as the peacock’s marvelously extravagant tail feathers.

Ornamentalisn is best known in architecture and design and can been seen in styles ranging from the rococo ((Würzburg Residenz, Würzburg Bavaria, Germany; left), to the McMansion (Wildwood New Jersey, USA; right))

In literary theory, ornamentalism is used to describe a style of writing in the pre-revolutionary Russian literary tradition in which prose was constructed in an intricate, mannered and ostentatious way.  It’s most associated with the early twentieth century and the great exponents of the art were the now sadly neglected Andrei Bely (1880-1934), the symbolist Fyodor Sologub (1863–1927) and the monumentally bizarre Alexei Remizov (1877-1957); it was one of the many stylistic trends briefly to flourish within the Russian avant-garde early in the twentieth century.  It came to be of some interest to later deconstructionists and post-modernists (the latter debatably among the greatest (or worst, depending on one’s view) ornamentalists) because the writers focused not on the capacity of the text to convey narrative or ideological content but the aesthetic and formal qualities of language itself; they treated language as an autonomous artistic medium, focusing on its rhythm, sound, texture and visual patterns.  Even at the time, there was criticism that the style was one of self-indulgence and intended for an audience of fellow writers and those who followed developments in the avant-garde; what comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) would later condemn as “formalism”.

What the ornamentalists did was elevate the elements of language (words, sentences, paragraphs etc) to be artistic objects to be assembled and arranged, their interplay as important (some critics suggested more so) than any implied or discernible meaning, thus the fragmented, non-linear prose which was a complete rejection of traditional realism: the ornamentalists called their work “associative structures”, suggesting they really were the proto postmodernists.  In that sense, it wasn’t the textual devices (repetition, alliteration, assonance) or the unusual syntactic structures which was most striking but the often chaotic mixture of prose and poetry and the interpolation of visual and performative elements into the text.  Needless to say, there was much symbolism, presumably thought an adequate substitute for coherence.  Vladimir Nabokov (1899–1977) was a noted critic of some of the more wilfully obscure ornamentalists but in his early Russian works and later English novels, their influence is detectable in his sensitivity to language's aesthetic possibilities.  While ornamentalism never really became a formal “school” of literature, it did exert a pull on Russian modernism and the possibility of elements like language operating as autonomous artistic objects.

In the US car industry peak ornamentalism happened between 1957-1962: 1960 Chrysler 300F (left), 1958 Buick Limited (centre) and 1959 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz (right).

An earlier Russian literary tradition which was later sometimes a part of ornamentalism was skaz (from the sleazat (to tell)), a genre of folk tales consisting usually of an eye-witness account of an episode in peasant or provincial life, distinguished by the narrative being related by a fictitious narrator rather than the author directly.  What that method did was afford an author some latitude in the use of speech forms such as dialect, slang, mispronunciations and, not infrequently, neologisms, all of which lent the texts a naturalistic vigour and colourfulness which usually wouldn’t appear in a naturalistic piece, told in the first person.

A Spanish literary tradition in the same vein as ornamentalism was plateresco (from platero (silversmith), most associated with sixteenth century romances (with most of what that implies).  The English version of the terms was “plateresque” (silversmith-like) and literary criticism borrowed the idea from architecture & design where it describes the ornate styles popular in Spain during the sixteenth century, the word applied in the same way as rococo (which can be thought of as “high ornamentalism”).  The more familiar Spanish term was Gongorism which described the style of writing typified by that of the poet Luis de Góngora y Argote (1561-1627), famous for his baroque and affected ways with the language which featured a Latinistic vocabulary & syntax, intricate use of metaphors, much hyperbole, mythological allusions and a general weirdness of diction.  In fairness, Góngora did not always write in this manner but so distinctive were his narratives when he did that a minor industry of imitators followed including Richard Crashaw (1613-1649) and the English polymath Sir Thomas Browne (1605–1682) who had great fun while Gongorising.  Gongorism as practiced was a deliberate exaggeration of technique, unlike the earlier aureate (from the Latin aureatus (adorned or decorated with gold), the construct being aure(us) (golden, gilded) +‎ -ate (the adjective-forming suffix).  Arueate language (characterized by the use of (excessively) ornamental or grandiose terms) was most generously described as a sort of poetic diction and it was much in vogue for English and Scottish and poets of the fifteenth century, the works of whom are characterized by the used of ornate & ornamental language, often studded with vernacular coinages from Latin words.

Whitewall

Whitewall (pronounced hwahyt-wawl or wahyt-wawl)

(1) A tyre (or tire), almost always pneumatic, with a sidewall with a white circular line of varying widths.

(2) Having white sidewalls (of a tyre).

(3) In US military use, a hair cut with a closely cropped back and sides and the hair on the top of the head left longer.

(4) In UK dialect (Northamptonshire), the spotted flycatcher (the bird so-called because of the white color of the under parts).

1950–1955: The construct was white + (side)wall.  White pre-dates 900 and was from the Middle English whit & hwit, from the Old English hwīt (whiteness, white food, white of an egg (and in late Old English “a highly luminous color devoid of chroma”)), from the Proto-West Germanic hwīt, from the Proto-Germanic hwītaz, from the primitive Indo-European ḱweydós, a by-form of ḱweytós (bright; shine). It was cognate with the German weiss, the Old Norse hvītr and the Gothic hweits; akin to wheat.  The idea of the “whites of the eye” was known in the late fourteenth century while the use of the term “white man” emerged in the late 1600s.  Wall pre-dates 900 and was from the Middle English wal, from the Old English weall (wall, dike, earthwork, rampart, dam, rocky shore, cliff), from the Proto-West Germanic wall (wall, rampart, entrenchment), from the Latin vallum (wall, rampart, entrenchment, palisade), from vallus (stake, post), from the primitive Indo-European welH- (to turn, wind, roll).  It was likely conflated with waw (a wall within a house or dwelling, a room partition), from the Middle English wawe, from the Old English wāg & wāh (an interior wall, divider).  It was cognate with the North Frisian wal (wall), the Saterland Frisian Waal (wall, rampart, mound), the Dutch wal (wall, rampart, embankment), the German Wall (rampart, mound, embankment) and the Swedish vall (mound, wall, bank”).  The forms white wall & white-wall are also used.  Whitewall is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is whitewalls.

Wide whitewalls on 1953 Packard Caribbean Convertible (left), narrow whitewalls on 1967 Mercedes-Benz 600 (centre) and triple whitewalls on 1966 Cadillac Coupe De Ville (right) (there were also double whitewalls).

Whitewall tyres became available in the early years of the twentieth century but it wasn’t until the 1930s they became a noted feature on luxury cars sold in the US and, in the way these things work, they were soon also an option on lower-priced models although, being relatively expensive and offering no functionality, the take-up rate was low.  The very existence of the whitewall was, stylistically, something of a throwback because the earliest pneumatic tyres were an off-white, the color of the natural rubber formula and the manufacturers soon added a zinc oxide to the mix for no reason other than producing a bright white which was more appealing in showrooms.  Given the unsealed roads of the era, the stark white didn’t long last in use and tyres quickly degenerated to a “dirty beige” and although “tyre cleaning” products were available, it was a sisyphean task and presumably few persisted.  In 1910 the BF Goodrich Company began adding carbon black to its various formulae after tests confirmed this added strength and durability to the rubber.  Rapidly the technique was adopted by the industry although because carbon black was an additional input cost, some tyres were produced with the additive used only for the portion of the rubber used for the tread surface, meaning the sidewalls remained white.  The first whitewalls were thus a product of cost-cutting and it’s an irony the look would more than a decade later be picked up as a marker of wealth and luxury although the commercial “whitewalls” would be a strip of white rubber added during the manufacturing process to an all-black carcass.  As a “discovery” the whitewall can be thought serendipitous.

Lindsay Lohan on the cover of Whitewall magazine, Fall / Autumn 2012 edition.  The photograph was Lindsay Lohan V by Richard Phillips (b 1962).  By magazine standards, the predominately black & grey cover was unusually dark but this was a deliberate editorial choice.  New York-based Whitewall magazine was founded in 2006 by Michael Klug (b 1978) who remains publisher & editor at large.  Whitewall is described as a publication for creative communities, bringing together art, design, fashion & lifestyle, with a focus on sustainability and diversity, offering a platform for the queer, trans and those identifying as BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, Persons of Color).

Raised-letter tyre on 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 (left) and red-line (later, there would be blue-line, yellow-line etc) tyre on 1966 Pontiac GTO (right).  The BF Goodrich Radial T/A (left) was valued by road-racers because it was discovered as the tread wore it behaved with characteristics which were similar to a racing "slick".  For a while, worn T/A Radials became a handy revenue earner for tyre shops.

The whitewall became more popular in the late 1940s until the Korean War (1950-1953) caused a squeeze on rubber supplies but once the peacetime returned, so did the whitewall and the width grew, often measuring 2½-3 inches (65-75 mm), something made possible by the physical size of tyre sidewalls increasing during the 1950s.  The perception now is the fashion was very much a US taste and while there’s some truth in that, American culture in the 1950s exerted a great influence and whitewalls were seen in Europe, Australia and Japan and for some reason the Italian fashion magazines seemed particularly taken with them for their photo-shoots.  Curiously, the US industry seemed to lose interest in whitewalls between 1961-1963, just as the wild fins of the era suddenly vanished although there was a period of transition, the “standard” whitewall shrinking to a width of 1 inch (25 mm) and sometimes less.  During the 1960s, although whitewalls remained a fixture on the more up-market mainstream vehicles the preferred look for high-performance machinery (it was the “muscle-car” era) was the “raised letter” tyre which spelled out the manufacturer’s name and often model of tyre, the free advertising greatly pleasing.  At the same time, the muscle car circle developed a taste for “red-line” tyres” which featured a thin red strip.

US actress Mamie Van Doren cleaning her Jaguar XK120 OTS (open two seater (ie roadster) 1948-1954), paying special attention to the whitewall tyres.  For those who need advice on such matters, Longstone Tyres has published a guide.

Sir William Lyons (1901–1985) presenting the Jaguar E-Type to the press pack, Geneva, March 1961 (left) and a 1961 publicity shot for the US market release (right).  In the US market, Jaguar had long made the whitewalls optional for the XK sports cars but there, most of the E-Type's (often called XK-E or XKE in the US) publicity material featured whitewalls.  The fad soon faded although narrow whitewalls were still available until the end of E-Type production in 1974.

Using one of his trademark outdoor settings, Norman Parkinson (1913-1990) photographed model Suzanne Kinnear (b 1935) adorning a Daimler SP250, wearing a Kashmoor coat and Otto Lucas beret with jewels by Cartier.  The image was published on the cover (left) of Vogue's UK edition in November 1959, the original's (right) color being "enhanced" in pre-production editing.  Although they were never as popular in Australia, the UK & Europe as they were in the US, whitewalls until the 1980s were not a rare sight in these places.  The British and Australians also were seduced by that other American intrusion, the vinyl roof, something more of a crime against good taste than any whitewall.

1952 Ferrari 212 (which the factory supplied with an up-rated 225 engine) Barchetta by Touring Superleggera (left) and 1974 Mercedes-Benz R107 (450 SL).

The Ferrari was a gift from Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) to Henry Ford II (1917–1987) and was the last non-racing Ferrari bodied by coachbuilder Carrozzeria Touring Superleggera.  The whitewall tyres were fitted especially for US delivery and Ford used the car during its evaluation process for the 1955 Thunderbird which picked up styling cues including the hood (bonnet) scoop and egg crate grille.  The Mercedes-Benz 450 SL illustrates just how jarring whitewalls can be if used on vehicles not suited to their presence.  On the early R107s (1971-1989) and C107s (the SLC, 1971 1981), thin whitewalls were sometime fitted to US market cars and even then there was comment about they really didn’t suit.  On the 450 SL pictured, the error is compounded by the fitting of the “chrome” wheel arch trims.  This was an unfortunate trend (which spread also to Jaguar, BMW and beyond) which began with their appearance in 1963 on the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100, 1963-1981) but on the original they were of metal whereas the aftermarket ones were almost always anodized plastic. 

Edition

Edition (pronounced ih-dish-uhn)

(1) One of a series of printings of the same publication, each issued at a different time and differing from another by alterations, additions etc (historically sometimes referred to as impressions).

(2) The format in which a work is published (single volume edition, abridged edition, leather-bound edition, French language edition etc).

(3) In newspaper production, a form of differentiation between different versions of the “same” issue (late edition, city edition etc) and used in a similar manner in radio & television broadcasting.

(4) In book collecting, as “first edition”, a copy of a book from its first release or print run.

(5) The whole number of impressions or copies of a book, newspaper etc, printed from one set of type at one time.

(6) A version of anything (physical and not), often (sometimes misleadingly) in forms such as “limited edition”, “special edition” etc).

1545–1555: From the French édition, from the Middle French, from the Latin ēditiōn- (publication), the stem of ēditiō (a bringing forth, publishing), the construct being ēdit, the past participle of ēdere (to give out; bring forth, produce) + -iōn (the suffix appended to a perfect passive participle to form a noun of action or process, or the result of an action or process).  When the word entered English in the sense of “version, translation, a form of a literary work” (and later “act of publishing”) the dominant linguistic influence was probably the Latin editionem (a bringing forth, producing (although in specialized use it also carried the meaning “a statement, an account rendered”, from the past-participle stem of ēdere, the construct being e(x) (in the sense of “out”) + -dere, a combining form of dare (to give), from the primitive Indo-European root do- (to give).  Edition is a noun; the noun plural is editions.

More Issues Than Vogue sweatshirt from Impressions.

In publishing and (sometimes vaguely) related fields, the terms “issue”, “edition” and “version” have come to be used so loosely that they sometimes function interchangeably but within the publishing industry, there are conventions of use: Issue traditionally was used to refer to a specific release of a recurring publication (magazine, journal, newspaper etc) and tended to be tied to the release sequence (“October 2024 Issue”, “Fall 2024 Issue”, “Issue No. 215” etc).  Issue can however be used also as “re-issue” which refers usually to a “re-print” of a previous edition although it’s not uncommon for blurbs like “re-issued with new foreword” or “re-issued in large print” to appear, the implication being the substantive content remains the same.  Edition was used of a particular form or version of a publication that might differ from previous ones in significant ways which might include text corrections, foreign language translations, or updates, thus descriptions like “German Language Edition”, “Second Edition” or “Abridged Edition.  Some editions (especially those which appear in an irregular sequence) actually give in their title some hint of the nature of what distinguishes them from what came before such as the convention adopted by the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic for their Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).  What the APA does is change the number if a DSM is regarded as a “new edition” but retain the number with an appended “R” (revised) or “TR” (text revision) if it’s an “updated edition”.  Thus has appeared the DSM-III-R (1987), the DSM-IV-TR (2000) and the DSM-5-TR (2022).  There’s some overlap in use for version and this perhaps reflects the influence of technology because it tends to be used of a specific form or variant of a publication such as language (eg Spanish version), format (eg audio version) or materials used in the construction (eg e-book version) rather than an implication of a chronological or iterative update (which in publishing tends to be called an “edition”.  In that the industry differs from IT where version numbers are almost always sequential although the convention widely used in the 1980s in which something like “version 2.4.3” could be interpreted as 2=major release, 4=update and 3= bug fix has long fallen into disuse.

Holy Bible, Revised Standard Version (RSV), 1952 limited edition, first printing by Thomas Nelson & Sons, brown full leather binding with inlaid gold lettering, silk end paper and green cardboard slip case, custom bound by the Chicago Bible Society.  US$750 from Abe Books.

There are also special uses which assume a life of their own, notably the Revised Standard Version (RSV), an English translation of the Bible published in 1952 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the US.  The RSV was a revision of the American Standard Version (ASV, 1901) and was published to render the text into the modern English which readily would be understood by a contemporary reader of modest education.  The object was not to change the meaning of the text but to preserve it and paradoxically this required editing the classic verses written by William Tyndale (circa 1494–1536) or in the King James Version (KJV, 1611) because the over hundreds of years the language had evolved and the much of what was in the original needed to be interpreted for a general audience and the controversy of clerical gatekeepers between God and his people had for centuries been a thing.  The RSV however has not been the last words and those who track novel initializms will have been delighted by the appearance of the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV, released in 1989 by the National Council of Churches (NCC) and the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue), published in 2021.  Students of such things aren’t expecting the next update for at least a decade but finding a name might prove more of a challenge than editing the Old Testament’s Book of Leviticus for a modern audience although those who have worked in biblical forks have found alpha-numeric solutions such as RSV-2CE (Revised Standard Version, Second Catholic Edition (2006))

First Edition of James Joyce’s Ulysses, "Copy No 1", held in the National Library of Ireland.  It contains in Joyce's hand an inscription to the English political activist Harriet Shaw Weaver (1876–1961) who was for decades his patron.

A first edition of Ulysses (1922) by James Joyce (1882–1941) in 2009 sold on the opening day of an antiquarian book fair London for Stg£275,000, at the time a record for a twentieth century first edition.  Ulysses is regarded in the industry as the most collectable modern novel and the first editions, printed on hand-made Dutch fine-paper, are well-catalogued and this was number 45 of the first edition print run (all signed by the author) of 100, one of four not previously accounted for.  It had been sold originally by the Manhattan’s obviously subversive Sunwise Turn bookshop (Ulysses at the times banned in the US) and remained in the possession of the same family, stored in its original box and thus not exposed to light, accounting for the preservation of the construction.  Proving that dealers in literary circles can gush with the finest used car salesmen, the dealer who arranged the sale explained: “The color is amazing – this lovely Aegean Sea, Greek flag blue which would normally have darkened into a more dirty blue but because it has been in a box it is a complete thing of beauty.”  The almost pristine condition was a product also of its history of use, an inspection suggesting it was seemingly unread except for the well-thumbed final chapter where the most salacious passages can be found.  The existence of unread copies of well-known books is not unusual and those notorious for sitting neglected on the bookshelf include “challenging” texts such as A Theory of Justice (1971) by John Rawls (1921–2002), A Brief History of Time (1988) by Stephen Hawking (1942–2018) and Joyce’s own, bafflingly difficult Finnegans Wake (1939).  Intriguingly, the antiquarian book business also includes the category “pre-first edition” (any limited run copy of a book printed before the “first edition” is published).  The apparent oxymoron is explained by “first edition” being an industry definition rather than a literal description; pre-first editions thus analogous with “pre-production” or “final prototype” cars which (if they’ve survive the crusher which claims most) can be prized by collectors.

Among special editions there are, inter alia, “Collector's Editions”, “Anniversary Editions” and even, in one instance, the “So Fetch Edition”.

In commerce, “special editions” have become notable income generators for content providers and the movie business has embraced the concept with editions such as “the making of”, “bloopers & out-takes”, “director’s cut” and others and the idea isn’t new.  Led Zeppelin's eighth studio album (In Through the Out Door (1979)) originally was sold with an outer sleeve of plain brown paper, stamped with nothing more than the while the cardboard sleeve proper within was released with six different versions of the artwork.  Buyers would thus not know which sleeve they were selecting.  There’s nothing to suggest it was anything but a gimmick and neither the band nor the record company were expecting many to keep buying copies in the plain brown wrapped until they’d scored all six covers but there were press reports at the time of "Led Heads" doing exactly that.  The industry took note.

Taylor Swift's The Anthology, one of 34 available editions of The Tortured Poets Department.

The attraction of releasing multiple versions of essentially the same product with variations restricted to some added content or detail differences in the packaging is that the additional costs in production and distribution are marginal yet there’s sometimes it’s possible to charge a premium for the “non-standard editions”.  The practice had for decades been quite a thing with car manufacturers but the music business came also to like the idea because, unlike with the cars where customers tended to buy one at a time, obsessive fans of musicians might be persuaded they needed several copies of what was essentially the same thing.  Leftist UK student site The Tab noted few music fans were as obsessive as Taylor Swift’s (b 1989) Swifties and, more significantly, they were also impressively numerous and thus an irresistible catchment of disposable income.  What The TAB noted was the almost simultaneous release of a remarkable (and apparently unprecedented) of 34 versions of Ms Swift’s eleventh album, The Tortured Poets Department (2024), something which as well as generating revenue has the statistical benefit of afforcing her presence on the charts, every sale counting as a 1.0.  Some were technologically deterministic in than four were released as audio cassettes and nine were exclusively digital bit most were essentially the same product except for the inclusion of a bonus track and there were some available only through the retailer Target.  The most obsessive Swifties obviously could buy all 34 editions but for those which want just an exhaustive collection of the music, it appeared all was included on the accurately named The Anthology so there was that.  One day, all 34, still (where appropriate) unopened in their original packaging will appear begin to appear on auction sites.  The approach attracted some adverse comment (which the Swifties doubtless ignored) and probably confirmed in the mind of JD Vance (b 1984; US senator (Republican-Ohio) since 2023) that childless cat ladies are evil.

All editions: The Tab’s The Tortured Poets Department discography:

1. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Manuscript
2. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Albatross
3. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Bolter
4. Collector’s Edition Deluxe with The Black Dog
5. Standard album and The Manuscript
6. Standard and The Manuscript (signed)
7. Standard and But Daddy I Love Him (Acoustic)
8. Standard and Guilty As Sin? (Acoustic)
9. Standard and Down Bad (Acoustic)
10. Standard and Fortnight (Acoustic)
11. Standard and Fresh Out The Slammer (Acoustic)
12. Target exclusive with The Albatross
13. Target exclusive with The Bolter
14. Target exclusive with The Black Dog
15. Target exclusive vinyl
16. The Manuscript vinyl (pressing one)
17. The Manuscript vinyl (pressing two)
18. The Albatross vinyl
19. The Bolter vinyl
20. The Black Dog vinyl
21. The Manuscript vinyl
22. The Anthology
23. Standard and The Black Dog ‘voice memo’
24. Standard album and Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me voice memo
25. Standard album and Cassandra voice memo
26. Standard album (digital)
27. Standard album and Daddy I Love Him (Acoustic)
28. Standard album and loml (live from Paris)
29. Standard album and My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys (live from Paris)
30. Standard album and The Alchemy / Treacherous mashup (live from Paris)
31. The Manuscript cassette
32. The Bolter cassette
33. The Albatross cassette
34. The Black Dog cassette

1976 Lincoln Continental Mark IV, Lipstick edition.  The shade of red appears to be close to Dior's lipstick #744 (Party Red).

The car manufacturers have produced at least hundreds of “special editions”, a concept to which they kept returning because it was lucrative, the things usually profitable to an extent exceeding greatly the nominal sum of their parts.  Quite how many have existed over the years is difficult to estimate because, in addition to the well-documented examples from manufacturers which were sold nationally or even globally, some were offered only briefly or regionally and barely advertised.  Additionally, dealers or sometimes an agglomeration of them would also conjure up their own "special editions" so the total of such things is probably in the thousands.  Sometimes, fashion houses were paid to lend their name, AMC teaming with Pierre Cardin, Levi Strauss (Volkswagen also had a denim-trimmed Beetle though without a specific brand attribution) & Oleg Cassini while the Lincoln Continental at times was offered with themes by Emilio Pucci, Cartier, Bill Blass and de Givenchy although the most memorable were the reputed 500 “Lipstick editions”, a study in red & white, quite a sight given the expanse of sheet metal and leather.

1969 Dodge Charger R/T SE (left), 1972 Chrysler VH Valiant Charger 770SE E55 (centre left), 1976 Holden HX LE (centre right) and 2002 Mazda Miata Special Edition (MX-5 in some markets) (right).

In most of the “special” editions, offered over the decades, it was only in the advertising or press kits that terms like “special edition” or “limited edition” appeared.  Sometimes though, such physical badges did appear on the vehicles. In the US, on the 1969 Dodge Chargers with the SE option, the badge included both “SE” & “Special Edition” while in Australia, only “SE” appeared on the 1972 Chrysler VH Valiant Charger 770SE E55 (one of the industry’s longer model names) although the marketing material called it a “Special Edition”, a usage borrowed from the parent corporation in the US and even the badge used was the same part as that which had been stuck on the 1970 Dodge Challenger SE.  Holden’s frankly cynical (but most profitable) 1976 LE spelled out “Limited Edition” under a “LE” (in a larger font) while Mazda used only the full term for the Miata (MX-5) Special Edition models.

Limited Edition, less limited profit: The Holden LE

1976 HX Holden LE

By the mid 1970s, the market had come to prefer the cheaper, smaller and easier to use cassette tapes which meant warehouses were soon full of the once desirable 8-track players and buyers were scarce.  In Australia, GMH (General Motor Holden) by 1975 had nearly a thousand in the inventory which also bulged with 600-odd Monaro body-shells, neither of which were attracting customers; fashions change and both had become unfashionable.  Fortunately, GMH was well-acquainted with the concept of the "parts-bin special edition" whereby old, unsaleable items are bundled together and sold at what appears a discount, based for advertising purposes on a book-value retail price there’s no longer any chance of realizing.  Thus created was the high-priced, limited edition LE (which stood for "Limited Edition", the Monaro name appearing nowhere although all seem still to use the name), in metallic crimson with gold pin striping, golf "honeycomb" aluminium wheels, fake (plastic) burl walnut trim and crushed velour (polyester) upholstery; in the 1970s, this was tasteful.  Not designed for the purpose, the eight-track cartridge player crudely was bolted to the console but five-hundred and eighty LEs were made, GMH pleasantly surprised at how quickly they sold with no need to resort to discounting.  When new, they listed at Aus$11,500, a pleasingly profitable premium of some 35% above the unwanted vehicle on which it was based; these days, examples are advertised for sale for (Aus$) six-figure sums and anyone who now buys a LE does so for reasons other than specific-performance.  Although of compact size (in US terms) and fitted with a 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) V8, it could achieve barely 110 mph (175 km/h), acceleration was lethargic by earlier and (much) later standards yet fuel consumption was high; slow and thirsty the price to be paid for the early implementations of the emission control plumbing bolted to engines designed during more toxic times.      

1971 Holden HQ Monaro LS 350

The overwrought and bling-laden Holden HX typified the tendency during the 1970s and of US manufacturers and their colonial off-shoots to take a fundamentally elegant design and, with a heavy-handed re-style, distort it into something ugly.  A preview of the later “malaise era” (so named in the US for many reasons), it was rare for a facelift to improve the original.  The 1971 HQ Holden was admired for an austerity of line and fine detailing; what followed over three subsequent generations lacked that restraint.  The HX LE was one of a number of "special" and "limited" editions offered during the era and it remains one of the few remembered.

Melodrama

Melodrama (pronounced mel-uh-drah-muh or mel-uh-dram-uh)

(1) A dramatic form (used in theatre, literature, music etc) that does not observe the laws of cause and effect and that exaggerates emotion and emphasizes plot or action at the expense of characterization.

(2) Loosely, (sometimes very loosely), behavior or events thought “melodramatic” (overly dramatic displays of emotion or behavior and applied especially to situations in which “things are blown out of proportion”).

(3) In formal definition (seventeenth, eighteenth & nineteenth centuries), a romantic dramatic composition characterized by sensational incident with music interspersed.

(4) A poem or part of a play or opera spoken to a musical accompaniment (technically, a passage in which the orchestra plays a somewhat descriptive accompaniment, while the actor speaks).

(5) A popular nickname conferred on highly-strung young women with a Mel*.* given name (Melanie, Melissa, Melina, Melinda, Melisandre, Melodie, Melody et al).

1784 (used in 1782 as melodrame): From the French mélodrame (a dramatic composition in which music is used), the construct being mélo- , from the Ancient Greek μέλος (mélos) (limb, member; musical phrase, tune, melody, song) + drame (refashioned by analogy with the Ancient Greek δρᾶμα (drâma) (deed, theatrical act) and cognate to the German Melodram, the Italian melodramma and the Spanish melodrama.  The adjective melodramatic (pertaining to, suitable for, or characteristic of a melodrama) came into use in 1789 (unrelated to political events that year).  Melodrama, melodramaticism, melodramaturgy, melodramatics & melodramatist are nouns, melodramatize, melodramatizing & melodramatized are verbs, melodramatic is an adjective and melodramatically is an adverb; the noun plural is melodramas or melodramata.

As late as the mid-nineteenth century “melodrama” was still used of stage-plays (usually romantic & sentimental) in which songs were interspersed, the action accompanied by orchestral music appropriate to the situations.  By the 1880s, the shift towards a melodrama being understood as “a romantic and sensational dramatic piece with a happy ending” and this proved influential, the musical element ceasing gradually to be an essential feature, the addition of recorded sound to “moving pictures” (movies) the final nail in the coffin.  Since then, a “melodrama” is understood to be “a dramatic piece characterized by sensational incidents and violent appeals to the emotions, but with (usually) a happy ending”.

The origins of melodrama lie in late sixteenth century Italian opera and reflect an attempt to convince audiences (or more correctly, composers and critics) that the form (ie opera or melodrama) was a revival of the Classical Greek tragedy.  It was a time in Europe when there was a great reverence for the cultures of Antiquity, something the result of the scholars and archivists (and frankly the publicists) of the Renaissance building a somewhat idealized construct of the epoch and the content providers noted the labels, the German-British Baroque composer Frederick Handel (1685–1759) using both for his works.  In the late eighteenth century French dramatists began to develop melodrama as a distinct genre by elaborating the dialogue and adding spectacle, action and violence to the plot-lines, a technique still familiar in the 2020s, sensationalism and extravagant emotionalism as effective click-bait now it was for ticket sales in earlier times.

The use of “melodrama” to refer to the life of a troubled popular culture figure represents a bit of a jump in meaning but it’s now well-understood.

The path of the musical form had earlier been laid in text, something becoming a more significant influence as the spread of the printing press made mass-market publications more accessible and they spread even within non-literate populations because as public and private readings became common forms of entertainment.  Although elements of what would later be understood as melodrama exist in the gloomy tragedies of the French novelist Claude Prosper Jolyot de Crébillon (1707–1777), more of an influence on the composers would be those who wrote with a lighter touch including the Swiss philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778) whose Pygmalion (1775) and French theatre director and playwright René-Charles Guilbert de Pixerécourt (1773–1844) whose Le Pèlerin blanc ou les Enfants du hameau (The White Pilgrim (or The Children of the Village)) both came to be regarded as part of the inchoate framework of the genre.  Literary theorists still debate the matter of cause & effect between melodrama and the growing vogue of the Gothic novel, one of fiction’s more emotionally manipulative paths, many concluding the relationship between the two was symbiotic.

There was also the commercial imperative.  Literary historians have documented the simultaneous proliferation of melodramas produced for the English stage during the nineteenth century (notably adaptations of novels by popular authors such as Charles Dickens (1812–1870) and Sir Walter Scott (1771–1832)) and the paucity in original work of substance.  There are some who have argued the writers had “lost their ear” for dramatic verse and prose but it more likely they realized they had “lost their audiences” and these were people with bills to pay (the term “potboiler” was coined later to describe “books written only to provide food for the stove” but few authors of popular fiction have ever been far removed from concerns with their sales).  The reason the melodramas which flourished in the 1800s were so popular will be unsurprising to modern film-makers, political campaign strategists and other content providers for they can be deconstructed as a class of naively sensational entertainment in which the protagonists & antagonists were excessively virtuous or exceptionally evil (thus all tiresome complexities reduced for something black & white), the conflict played out with blood, thrills and violence (spectres, ghouls, witches & vampires or the sordid realism of drunkenness, infidelity or personal ruin used as devices as required).

The word “melodrama” appears often in commentaries on politics and that’s a trend which was probably accelerated by the presentation moving for most purposes to screens and Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) revolutionizing the business by applying the tricks & techniques of reality TV (itself an oxymoron) meant the whole process can now be thought an unfolding melodrama, indeed, the Trump model cannot work as anything else.  The idea of “politics as theatre” was first discussed in the US in the 1960s but then a phenomenon like Mr Trump would have been thought absurdly improbable.

Because of the popularity of the form, melodrama has rarely found much favor with the critics and that old curmudgeon Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) noted (and, one suspects, not without some satisfaction) that the term generally was “…used with some contempt, because the appeal of such plays as are acknowledged to deserve the title is especially to the unsophisticated & illiterate whose acquaintance with human nature is superficial, but whose admiration for goodness and detestation of wickedness is ready & powerful.”  Henry Fowler moved among only a certain social stratum.  He added that the task of the melodramatist’s was to establish in the audience’s mind the notion of the dichotomous characters as good & wicked and then “…provide striking situations that shall provoke and relieve anxieties on behalf of poetic justice.”  One device once used to produce the desired effect was of course music and a whole academic industry emerged in the mid-twentieth century to explain how different sounds could be used to suggest or summon certain emotions and because music increasingly ceased to be an essential part of the melodramatic form, the situations, dialogue and events in purely textual productions became more exaggerated.

Punkess

Punkess (pronounced puhngk-es)

A feminine form of “punk”.

1976: The construct was punk + -ess.  The word was coined by fashion & pop culture writer Blair Sabol (b 1944) and appeared in the “Observations” column in the October 1976 edition of Vogue magazine.  Punkess is a noun; the noun plural is punkesses.

Vogue cover, October, 1976.

In coining “punkess”, Ms Sabol’s grammar was sound because appending the –ess suffix is the orthodox way to feminize a noun.  The -ess suffix was from the Middle English -esse, from the Old French -esse, from the Late Latin -issa, from the Ancient Greek -ισσα (-issa) and was appended to words to create the female form.   It displaced the Old English -en (feminine suffix of nouns).  The other often used suffix was–ette, from the Middle English -ette, a borrowing from the Old French -ette, from the Latin -itta, the feminine form of -ittus.  Properly applied, it was used to form nouns meaning a smaller form of something and thus related to –et, from the Middle English -et, from the Old French –et & its feminine variant -ette, from the Late Latin -ittus (and the other gender forms -itta & -ittum).  It was used to form diminutives, loosely construed.  Because of (1) the link with the Latin –itta (the feminine form of –ittus) and (2) the historic tendency to conflate diminutive forms (ie smaller, lesser, inferior) with “female”, the association of the use of the –ette suffix with feminized forms emerged and on some cases entered standard English (majorette (female drum major); usherette (female usher) et al).  The use became less common as gender-neutral language spread.

Vogue Observations (OB) page, October 1976.  In 1976, a pair of raw-hide, knee-high boots, hand-stitched in (just) post-Franco Spain, listed with a RRP (recommended retail price) of US$68 and for “darkening and waterproofing”, the purchase included a tin of ”Graza de Caballo (pig oil, goose grease, and essence of almond).”  Vogue remains an Oxford comma holdout.

So the grammar was (at least historically) sound but whether Ms Sabol’s choice was sociologically well-founded may to some have seemed dubious.  The word “punk” has enjoyed an extraordinary range of use since the seventeenth century and although its origin (in American English)  is murky, all uses thought forks of “punk” in the sense of “rotten wood dust used as tinder” (used thus since at least the late 1670s), evolving by the mid-nineteenth century to mean “something worthless”, personalized by 1910 to mean “an undesirable person (thus the link with petty criminals).  By 1976 however, what Ms Sabol (indirectly) was referencing was the “punk rock” movement which, musically, had actually been around for almost a decade but although the term “punk rock” had in the US appeared in the US pop-music press as early as 1972, it didn’t enter mainstream use until 1976-1977 when the industry (and there have been discussions about cause & effect) realized they had a marketable commodity to package.

An AI (artificial intelligence) generated female punk, who, were she IRL (in real life), might not have a Vogue subscription.

The punk persona of the 1976 punks was such that the female punk musicians stereotypically would have found the notion of “punkess” absurd; they were simply punks making their music.  Of course Ms Sabol was writing in Vogue, discussing not jarring music but the attitude of the women she called the harbingers of “punkess preakness”, those for whom “toughness and aloofness” was not “their trade, but rather feistiness and endurance”  In other words, punkness (for the Vogue readership) describes a kind of “selective attitudinal transference”.  It’s not correct to say critiques of language disparaging or dismissive of women didn’t exist in 1976, the point being that such objections tended then variously to be ignored or devalued, the critics marginalized but Ms Sabol’s crew of punkesses might have approved of the label; a generation earlier, there were those who would have called them “tough broads” so it may have seemed like progress.  Despite that, “punkess” never caught on although “punkette” was used by a number of publications, usually in the context of “young women who adopt the fashion aesthetic of the punk subculture”.

Punkess crooked Hillary Clinton iPhone 16 case by Harold Ninek.

“Punk” proved one of the more adaptable words in English, all traceable to the original sense of “something worthless”.  The re-purposing included (1) “pre World War I (1914-1918) bread of not the highest quality”, (2) “driftwood”, (3) “toxic or poor quality liquor”, (4) “a homosexual”, (5) within the homosexual community “a (usually weak, young) man kept by a man for sexual purposes”, (6) a “ineffectual or worn-out boxer”, (7) “insincerity” (which may have been an imperfect echoic of the slang “bunk”, (8) “Chinese insect repellent”, (9) “certain tobacco products”, (10) “some strains of cannabis”, (11) a “novice” at a trade (much used in the construction industry). (12) “a criminal” (historically much associated with petty crime and “juvenile delinquency”), (13) “decayed or rotted timber”, (14) “a foolish or absurd argument”, (15) a type of incense, (16) “a fungus (polyporus fomentarius etc) sometime dried for use as tinder”) (ie harking back to the seventeenth century original), (17) “a harlot or prostitute” (which gains linguistic respectability for having appeared in William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) The Merry Wives of Windsor (1602): “This punk is one of Cupid’s carriers…” & Measure for Measure (1604): “She may be a punk, for many of them are neither maid, widow nor wife”, (18) “used or discarded fruits & vegetables”, (19) a 1970s pop-culture philosophy described as “hip nihilism”, (19) “a photographer’s assistant”, (20) a clipping of “punk rock” or “punk rocker”, (21) “the fashion styles associated with punk rockers and their audiences” (labeled “aggressively dumb” by some who didn’t approve), (22) in pyrotechnics, “a stick coated with a slow-burning paste, used to ignite fireworks, (23) “poverty and the poor”, (24) (as a verb) “to obtain” (often with a hint of the illicit), (25) (as verb) “to puncture a tyre” and (26) “a young elephant”.  Under the Raj, a punkah (or punka) was “a fan, especially made of leaf or cloth and hung from the ceiling”.  Punkah was from the Hindi पंखा (paṅkhā) (fan), from the Sanskrit पक्षक (pakṣaka), from पक्ष (pakṣa) (wing).  Before the advent of electricity a punkah remotely was operated manually by a servant, known as the “punkah-boy” or “punkahwallah” (depending on age).  Wallah was from Hindi -वाला (-vālā) either in the sense of “pertaining to” or (which etymologists think more likely) “man in charge”.

Celebration of Spring at St. Paedophilia’s—The Annual Running of the Altar Boys (2002) by Pat Oliphant.

Australian-born US political cartoonist Pat Oliphant (b 1935) used the device of a little penguin as his alter ego and that penguin’s name was “Punk”.  Punk often appeared in Oliphant’s cartoons, making some wry comment or asking a question.  One of the most controversial pieces appeared as “Celebration of Spring at St. Paedophilia’s—The Annual Running of the Altar Boys” in which Punk says: “I’ll call the bishop”, receiving the answer: “The bishop has first dibs.”  Widely condemned by the hierarchy of the US church, some newspapers refused to print the cartoon and others didn’t add it to their more widely-distributed on-line editions.  Oliphant’s cartoons are now held in the collection of the National Library of Congress.

Of cyberpunks and cybergoths

Punk has been used as a prefix to create literally dozens of forms and punkitude (the quality or state of being a punk; punkishness; adopting or projecting a punkish persona) captures the flavor of many, the construct being punk + att(itude).  Also existing in many forms, the suffix –punk seems first to have been used in 1986 to create cyberpunk and it spiked in 1992 with the coining of steampunk (although some sources claim this was first seen in 1989).  It’s used to apply the aesthetic or (perceived) attitudes of the 1970s (and beyond) punk subculture (loosely defined) on genres previously unrelated.

A cyberpunk Lindsay Lohan sipping martinis with Johnny Depp and a silver alien by AiJunkie.

The youth subcultures “cyberpunk” and “cybergoth” had common threads in the visual imagery of science fiction (SF) but differ in matters of fashion and political linkages.  Academic studies have suggested elements of cyberpunk can be traced to the dystopian Central & Eastern European fiction of the 1920s which arose in reaction to the industrial and mechanized nature of World War I but in its recognizably modern form it emerged as a literary genre in the 1980s, characterized by darkness, the effect heightened by the use of stark colors in futuristic, dystopian settings, the cultural theme being the mix of low-life with high-tech.  Although often there was much representation of violence and flashy weaponry, the consistent motifs were advanced technology, artificial intelligence and hacking, the message the evil of corporations and corrupt politicians exploiting technology to control society for their own purposes of profit and power.  Aesthetically, cyberpunk emphasized dark, gritty, urban environments where the dominant visual elements tended to be beyond the human scale, neon colors, strobe lighting and skyscrapers all tending to overwhelm people who often existed in an atmosphere of atonal, repetitive sound.

Cybergoth girls: The lasting legacy of the cybergoth's contribution to the goth aesthetic was designer colors, quite a change to the black & purple uniform.  Debate continues about whether they can be blamed for fluffy leg-warmers.

The cybergoth thing, dating apparently from 1988, thing was less political, focusing mostly on the look although a lifestyle (real and imagined) somewhat removed from mainstream society was implied.  It emerged in the late 1990s as a subculture within the goth scene, and was much influenced by the fashions popularized by cyberpunk and the video content associated with industrial music although unlike cyberpunk, there was never the overt connection with cybernetic themes.  Very much in a symbiotic relationship with Japanese youth culture, the cybergoth aesthetic built on the black & purple base of the classic goths with bright neon colors, industrial materials, and a mix of the futuristic and the industrial is the array of accessories which included props such as LED lights, goggles, gas masks, and synthetic hair extensions.  Unlike the cyberpunks who insisted usually on leather, the cybergoths embraced latex and plastics such as PVC (polyvinyl chloride), not to imitate the natural product but as an item while the hairstyles and makeup could be extravagantly elaborate.  Platform boots and clothing often adorned with spikes, studs and chains were common but tattoos, piercings and other body modifications were not an integral component although many who adopted those things also opted to include cybergoth elements. 

Although there was much visual overlap between the two, cyberpunk should be thought of as a dystopian literary and cinematic genre with an emphasis on high-tech while cybergoth was a goth subculture tied to certain variations in look and consumption of pop culture, notably the idea of the “industrial dance” which was an out-growth of the “gravers” (gothic ravers), movement, named as goths became a critical mass in the clubs built on industrial music.  While interest in cyberpunk remains strong, strengthened by the adaptability of generative AI to the creation of work in the area, the historic moment of cyberpunk as a force in pop culture has passed, the fate of many subcultures which have suffered the curse of popularity although history does suggest periodic revivals will happen and elements of the look will anyway endure.