Blurb

Blurb (pronounced blurb)

(1) A brief promotional piece, almost always laudatory, used historically for books, latterly for about any product.

(2) To advertise or praise in the manner of a blurb.

1907: Coined by US graphic artist and humorist Gelett Burgess (1866–1951).  Blurbs are a specific type of advertisement, similar exercises in other contexts known also as “puff pieces”, “commendations” or “recommendations”.  The use of "puff" is thought based on the character "Mr Puff" in the burlesque satire The Critic: or, a Tragedy Rehearsed (1779) by the Anglo-Irish Whig playwright Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816).  Generally, blurbs contain elements designed to tempt a buyer which may include a précis (something less than a detailed summary), a mention of the style and a recommendation.  The term was originally invoked to mock the excessive praise printed on book jackets and was often parodied in a derisively imitative manner and is still sometimes critically used thus but it’s also now a neutral descriptor and an accepted part of the publishing industry.  Blurb is a noun & verb, blurbing & blurbed are verbs, blurbist is a noun and blurbish is an adjective; the noun plural is blurbs.

The blurb has apparently existed for some two-thousand–odd years but the word became well-known only after a publishing trade association dinner in 1907, Gelett Burgess displaying a dust jacket printed with the words “YES, this is a “BLURB”!”, featuring the (fictitious) Miss Belinda Blurb who was said to have been photographed “...in the act of blurbing”, Burgess adding that to blurb was “… to make a sound like a publisher…” and was “…a check drawn on fame, and it is seldom honoured”.  There are sources claiming the word was coined by US academic and literary critic Brander Matthews (1852–1929) in his essay American Character (1906) but Professor Matthews acknowledged the source genuinely was Burgess, writing in the New York Times (24 September 1922): “Now and again, in these columns I have had the occasion to employ the word “blurb”, a colourful and illuminating neologism which we owe to the verbal inventiveness of Mr Gelett Burgess”.

Burgess had released Are You a Bromide? in 1906 and while sales were encouraging, he suggested to his publishers (BW Huebsch) that each of the attendees and the upcoming industry dinner should receive a copy with a “special edition” dust cover.  For this, Burgess used the picture of a young lady who had appeared in an advertisement for dental services, snapped in the act of shouting.  It was at the time common for publishers to use pictures of attractive young ladies for book covers, even if the image was entirely unrelated to the tome’s content, the object being to attract a male readership.  Burgess dubbed his purloined model “Miss Belinda Blurb” and claimed she had been photographed “in the act of blurbing”; mid-blurb as it were.

Are you a Bromide? (Publisher's special edition, 1907).

The dust cover was headed with the words “YES, this is a “BLURB”! All the Other Publishers commit them. Why Shouldn’t We?” and knowing a blurb should not in moderation do what can be done in excess, went on to gush about the literary excellence of his book in rather the manner a used car salesman might extol the virtues of some clapped-out car in the corner of the yard.  His blurb concluded “This book is the Proud Purple Penultimate!”  The industry must have been inspired because the blurb has become entrenched, common in fiction and non-fiction alike and the use of the concept can be seen in film, television, social media and just about anywhere there’s a desire to temp a viewer.  Indeed, the whole idea of “clickbait” (something which tells enough to tantalize but not enough to satisfy without delving deeper) is a functional application of a blurb.  Depending on the source, the inspiration for the word came from either (1) the sound made by a book as it falls to the floor, (2) the sound of a bird chirping or (3) an amalgam of “burp” & “blather”.  The author left no clue.

In his book, Burgess innovated further, re-purposing the word "bromide".  In inorganic chemistry, a bromide is a binary compound of bromine and some other element or radical, the construct being brom- (an alternative form of bromo- (used preceding a vowel) which described a substance containing bromine (from the French brome, from the Ancient Greek βρῶμος (brômos) (stink)) + ide (the suffix used in chemistry to describe substances comprising two or more related compounds.  However, early in the twentieth century, Bromide was a trade name for a widely available medicine, taken as a sedative and in some cases prescribed to diminish “an excessive sexual appetite”.  It was the sedating aspect which Burgess picked up to describe someone tiresome and given to trite remarks, explaining “a bromide” was one “…who does his thinking by syndicate and goes with the crowd” and was thus boring and banal.  A bromine’s antonym was, he helpfully advised, a “sulphite”.  Unfortunately, while blurb flourished, bromide & sulphites as binary descriptors of the human condition have vanished from the vernacular.

Lindsay Lohan with body double during shooting for Irish Wish (Netflix, due for release in 2023).  The car is a Triumph TR4.

Nteflix's blurb for Irish Wish: Always a bridesmaid, never a bride — unless, of course, your best friend gets engaged to the love of your life, you make a spontaneous wish for true love, and then magically wake up as the bride-to-be.  That’s the supernatural, romantic pickle Lindsay Lohan (Mean Girls, The Parent Trap) finds herself in upcoming romantic comedy, Irish Wish.  Set in the rolling green moors of Ireland, the movie sees Lohan's Maddie learn her dreams for true love might not be what she imagined and that her soulmate may well be a different person than she originally expected. Apparently magic wishes are quite insightful.

Blurb Your Enthusiasm (2023, distributed by Simon & Schuster).

Louise Willder (b 1972) has for a quarter century been a copywriter for Penguin, in that time composing some 5000 blurbs, each a two-hundred-odd word piece which aims both to inform and tempt a purchase.  Her non-fiction debut Blurb Your Enthusiasm is not only a review of the classic blurbs (the good, the bad and the seriously demented) but also an analysis of the trends in the structure of blurbs and the subtle shifts in their emphasis although, over the centuries, the purpose seems not to have changed.  Ms Willder also documents the nuances of the blurb, the English tendency to understatement, the hyperbolic nature of Americans and the distaste the French evidently have of having to say anything which might disclose the blurb’s vulgar commercial purpose, tracing over time how changing attitudes and societal mores mean what’s now written of a nineteenth century classic is very different to when first it was published.  Inevitably too, there are the sexual politics of authorship and publishing and blurbs can reveal as much by the odd hint or what’s left unsaid than what actually appears on a dust cover.  Academics and reviewers have perhaps neglected the blurb because traditionally they've often been dismissed as mere advertising but, unless the author’s name or the subject matter is enough of a draw, even more than a cover illustration or title, it’s the blurb which can close the sale and collectively, they’re doubtlessly more widely read than reviews.  Blurb Your Enthusiasm is highly recommended.

Founded in New York City in 1924 by Richard L Simon (1899–1960) & Max Lincoln Schuster (1897–1970), Simon & Schuster was in 2023 acquired by private equity company KKR (Kohlberg Kravis Roberts & Co).

In 2025, there emerged an indication there was, at least in one corner of the publishing industry a push-back against what might be called the “I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine” blurb with the  publisher of Simon & Schuster’s flagship imprint in the US announcing it will “no longer require authors to obtain blurbs for their books”.  Revealed in an essay in Publishers Weekly, it was explained that while Simon & Schuster never had “a formal mandatory policy” about the matter, a culture had evolved to make blurbs “tacitly expected” and the responsibility of harvesting them from famous writers, celebrities and such devolved upon authors, their agents & editors.  The publishing house rejected the notion the blurb “production line” is “what makes the book business so special: the collegiality of authors and their willingness to support one another”, arguing the very ubiquity of the things had become “…incredibly damaging to what should be the industry’s ultimate goal: producing books of the highest possible quality.”  Memorably, Simon & Schuster’s critique of “authors feeling obliged to write blurbs for their friends” was summed up in the phrase: “an incestuous and unmeritocratic literary ecosystem that often rewards connections over talent.”  Students of the blurb will of course be disappointed if this becomes a trend and among authors it must have been fun to cast an eye over new releases just to try to work out if one individual was no longer on speaking terms with another but more practically, others did observe that while blurbs may be of marginal interest to those browsing the shelves, it was understood booksellers could be influenced to increase their orders if a book seems “well-blurbed”.  However, even if Simon & Schuster are no longer giving authors a tacit “nudge”, it may be many remain prolific blurb writers because it's a very cheap way to keep one’s brand-recognition on the shelves and up to date.

Ginger

Ginger (pronounced jin-jer)

(1) Any of several zingiberaceous plants of the genus Zingiber (especially Zingiber officinale of the East Indies), native to South Asia but now cultivated in many tropical countries and noted for the pungent, spicy rhizome used in cooking and medicine (Ginger is one of the oldest known “anti-seasickness treatments).

(2) The underground stem of this plant, used fresh or powdered as a flavouring or crystallized as a sweetmeat.

(3) The rhizome of Zingiber officinale, ground, chopped etc, used as a flavoring.

(4) In informal use, piquancy; animation; liveliness; vigour.

(5) A reddish-brown or yellowish-brown colour

(6) A female given name, form of Virginia or Regina (also used of red-headed men as a nickname).

(7) In zoology, a given name for animals having ginger- or orange-coloured fur or feathers.

(8) Flavored or made with ginger, the spicy rhizome of the Zingiber officinale plant.

(9) In informal use, someone with “red” hair (a range which includes the various shades of ginger).

(10) In cockney rhyming slang, a bit of a homosexual (based on “ginger beer” (ie “queer”)).

(11) In slang, Ginger ale, or can or bottle of such (especially if dry).

(12) In colloquial use in Scotland (prevalent especially in Glasgow), any fizzy soft drink, or can or bottle of such (especially the famous Iron Brew).

(13) To treat or flavor with ginger, the spicy rhizome of the Zingiber officinale plant (to add ginger to).

(14) In informal use, to impart piquancy or spirit to; enliven (usually in the form “ginger up”).

(15) As a regionalism, very careful or cautious (also, delicate; sensitive).

Pre 1000: From the Middle English gingere, an alteration of gingivere, from the Old English ginȝifer & ginȝiber (gingifer & gingiber) (influenced by Old French gingivre & gingembre), from the Medieval Latin gingiber & zingiber (the Latin zingiberi from the late Ancient Greek ζιγγίβερις (zingíberis)), from the Prakrit (Middle Indic) singabera, from the Sauraseni Prakrit śr̄ngaveram, the construct being śr̄nga- (horn) + vera- (body), an allusion to the typical shape of the plant’s root when harvested which may be compared with the Old Tamil iñcivēr and the Tamil இஞ்சிவேர் (iñcivēr), the construct being இஞ்சி (iñci) (ginger) + வேர் (vēr) (root)).  Not all etymologists agree with the orthodox derivation of śr̄ngaveram, suggesting it may be Sanskrit folk etymology and the word may be from an ancient Dravidian word that also produced the modern name for the spice used in the Tamil.  The dissidents argue the Tamil iñci must at some point have had an initial “ś” and the Sanskrit śṛṅgabera was an imitation of the (supposititious) Tamil ciñcivēr with the European zingiber coming from the Tamil name.  Ginger is a noun, gingerness & gingerliness are nouns, gingering is a verb, gingered is a verb & adjective, gingerish, singersome, gingerlike & gingerish are adjectives, gingerly is an adjective & adverb and gingerliness is an adverb; the noun plural is gingers. The adjectives ginger-free & gingerless are non-standard but have appeared on menus and in the software in restaurant PoS (point-of-sale systems).  The adjectives gingerer & gingerest do exist but are now so rare as to be archaic.

It’s believed the word re-entered Middle English under the influence of twelfth century Old French gingibre (which in Modern French endures as gingembre).  As a reference to coloring, the first recorded use was of fighting cocks, dating from 1785, extended to persons exactly a century later (although of hair alone it was used thus in the 1850s).  The sense of “spirit, spunk, temper” was a creation of mid nineteenth century US English. Ginger-ale was first advertised in the early 1820s, the term adopted by manufacturers to distinguish their product from ginger beer (on sale since 1809 and the central exhibit in Donoghue v Stevenson [1932] AC 562, a landmark case in tort law, heard before the House of Lords) which sometimes was fermented.  The ginger-snap was a hard cookie (biscuit in UK use) flavored with ginger, the product on sale by at least 1855.

Arnott’s Ginger Nuts.

In various forms and sold under several names (ginger-snap, ginger biscuit, ginger cookie, gingernut etc), ginger snaps are one of the planet’s most popular cookies (biscuits) and while ginger (usually powdered because it’s most suited to the industrial production of food) obviously is the common flavoring, other ingredients sometimes used include cinnamon, molasses and cloves.  The recipes vary although all tend to produce hard, brittle cookies and are much favoured by those who lie to dunk the things in their tea or coffee (softening it) which does seem to defeat the purpose but dunking really is a thing.  Between countries ginger-snaps differ greatly but even within markets there are culinary regionalisms: The Griffin’s Gingernut is New Zealand’s biggest selling biscuit and the whole country is supplied using the same recipe but in Australia, Arnott’s Ginger Nuts vary in size, color, hardness and taste between states and that was not a deliberate corporate decision but the product of M&A (mergers & acquisitions) activities beginning in the 1960s when the Arnott’s Group was created, a number of previously independent local bakeries absorbed; fearing a revolt, it was decided to retain the long-established recipes.  All Ginger Nut biscuits are sold in 250g packages but while WA (Western Australia), SA (South Australia) and the NT (Northern Territory) share a common “sweet” mixture, those living in Victoria and Tasmania enjoy an even sweeter flavour (closer to similar biscuits sold overseas which are both larger and softer in texture).  In NSW (New South Wales) and the ACT (Australian Capital Territory) a “thick and hard” Ginger Nut is sold and Queensland (always different) enjoys a unique “thin, sweet and dark” product.  Arnott’s also revealed as well as differences in the mix, the baking time varies between varieties, accounting for the color and hardness.  For those wishing to make comparisons, there’s a choice of comparatives: (“more ginger” or (the rare) “gingerer” and superlatives: “most ginger” or (the rare) “gingerest”.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1968) and her sister Ali (b 1993) making gingerbread houses on the Drew Barrymore (b 1975) Show (CBS Media Ventures), November, 2022.

The noun gingerbread was from the late thirteenth century gingerbrar (preserved ginger), from the Old French ginginbrat (ginger preserve), from the Medieval Latin gingimbratus (gingered,) from gingiber.  It was folk etymology which changed the ending to -brede (bread) and in that form the word was in use by the mid-1300s; by the fifteenth century it had come to mean “sweet cake spiced with ginger” although the still popular confection “gingerbread man” wasn’t known until circa 1850.  The figurative use (indicating anything thought fussy, showy or insubstantial) can be regarded a sort of proto-bling and emerged around the turn of the seventeenth century; in domestic architecture or interior decorating it was used as a critique by at least the late 1750s, use possibly influenced by the earlier “gingerbread-work” which was sailor’s slang for the often elaborately carved timberwork on ships.  Bling not then being in use, the term “gingerbread” often was used of the increasingly rococoesque detailing being applied to US cars by the late 1950s and it was revived as the interiors became “fitted out” in the 1970s although stylists (they weren’t yet “designers”) preferred “gorp”.  Decades before, as a noun, becoming Detroit styling studio slang, gorp was (as a verb) defined as meaning “greedily to eat” and it’s believed the alleged acronyms “good old raisins and peanuts” & “granola, oats, raisins, peanuts” are probably backronyms.  What the stylists were describing was the idea of “adding a bit of everything to the design”, the concept illustrated by creations such as the 1958 Buick, the design imperative of which was "combine as many as possible differently-shaped chrome bits & pieces".  Gorp intrinsically was "added on gingerbread" and shouldn't be confused with something like the 1958 Lincoln which was relative unadorned (ie un-gorped) and gained its distinctiveness from the design imperative "combine as many as possible shapes, curves, lines & scallops.  Of course, the two approaches can appear in unison, witness the 1961 Plymouths.

Some of Detroit's guesswork about public taste: 1958 Buick Limited (gingerbread, left), 1958 (Lincoln) Continental Mark III (shapes, right) and 1961 Plymouth Fury (everything, right).

The phrase “gin up” (enliven, make more exciting) is now often used as “gee-up” but the original was first recorded in 1887 (“ginning” (the act of removing seeds from cotton with a cotton gin) in use by at least 1825) and while it’s been speculated there may be some link with “gin” (in the sense of “engine”, the best known being the “cotton gin”) most etymologists think it improbable and think it more likely the origin lies in the characteristics if the root of the plant as used in food (spicy, pizzazz) and most compelling is the entry for feague (used in its equine sense): “...to put ginger up a horse's fundament, and formerly, as it is said, a live eel, to make him lively and carry his tail well; it is said, a forfeit is incurred by any horse-dealer's servant, who shall shew a horse without first feaguing him.”  The figurative use of feague (encouraging or spiriting one up) has faded but “gee up” remains common.”  So, for dressage or other equestrian competitions in which the judges liked to see a horse’s tail elegantly raised (al la the high ponytail perfected by the singer Ariana Grande (b 1993)), a stable-hand’s trick for achieving this was to insert an irritant (such as a piece of peeled raw ginger or a live eel) in its anus, an additional benefit being it “increased the liveliness of the beast”.  That means when modern young folk speak of “geeing up” or a “a gee up”, they’re referring (figuratively) to shoving some ginger up someone’s rectum; presumably, most are unaware of the linguistic tradition.

Ariana Grande and ponytail, on stage, Coachella, November, 2018.

According to Ariana Grande, the “snatched high ponytail” she made her signature look was better described as a “high extension ponytail” because extensions were used for added length and volume.  It’s a dramatic look but the health and beauty site Self cautioned wearing the style is not risk-free and for some wearers pain may be unavoidable.  Interviewed, dermatologist Dr Samantha Conrad explained hair follicles are the “little pockets of skin that surround the root of a hair” while the “nerves and blood vessels in the scalp feed those roots”.  What happens when hair is pulled tightly back and elevated, it puts the hair “at a sharp angle”, placing “tension on the follicles”, causing “some strangulation of the unit”.  Because this tension is exerted on the nerve endings, there can be pain, something exacerbated if the hair is long and thick (or augmented with extensions) because the extent of the tension is so influenced by weight, physics dictating additional mass will induce greater “traction on the hair follicle”.  Pain obviously can be an issued but the consequences can be more serious, dermatologist Dr Joshua Zeichner explaining “chronic traction on the hair follicles can cause permanent thinning of the hair”, a phenomenon described as “traction alopecia”.

1970 Ford Mustang Grandé in New Lime Metallic with Ivy Green Corinthian Vinyl & Houndstooth Cloth trim with houndstooth vinyl roof in green & black.

Helpfully, in 2018 Teen Vogue published excerpts from the transcript of a radio interview in Ms Grande clarified the pronunciation of her surname, apparently something which had for some time baffled a few.  What she revealed was that within her family, historically “Grande” had not been pronounced Grahn-day (a la the famous Starbucks coffee cup).  Her grandfather had pronounced it Gran-dee with the emphasis on the second syllable because that was an “Americanized version” of the Italian form which “made it more chill”.  It was her brother who adopted Grahn-day, simply because he preferred the sound.  Clearly, Teen Vogue is an under-appreciated source of linguistic tips.  In 1969, when introducing the Mustang Grandé, Ford attempted to remove any ambiguity by using an “é” with a l'accent aigu (acute accent), indicating the pronunciation should be Grahn-day, despite the spelling not being used in any language where “grande” exists.  Introduced in 1969, the Mustang Grandé was the range’s “luxury” version and its addition to the line was a harbinger for the trend of the 1970s as high-performance was, for many reasons, put on-held.  The Grandé used a standard mechanical specification but included a long list of “convenience” and “dress-up” items and was a success; it was the spiritual ancestor of the “Ghia” versions which for decades would be the most elaborately equipped Mustangs.  Surprisingly, despite being aimed at a demographic not interested in going fast, the Grandé could be ordered with almost any engine in the catalogue, including the 428 cubic inch (7.0 litre) Super CobraJet, designed for use on drag strips and some really were built so configured; only the unique Boss 429 was not available.  A vinyl roof was standard but the rarely ordered houndstooth option cost an additional US$28.

No extensions needed: Lindsay Lohan with snatched high ponytail, Paris Fashion Week, 2024.

Ominous as all that sounds, the doctors say it’s not necessary entirely to abandon the high ponytail because the issue isn’t the style but the implementation, the critical factor being how tightly the hair is pulled from the scalp.  Tension alopecia can occur with any tightly-pulled ponytail, plait or braid so the trick is to avoid excessive tension, the recommended approach to create a “high pony” and then gradually loosen the area in front of the elastic.  Obviously, the greater the mass of the hair, physics  dictates it will be less inclined to retain a shape tending from the vertical at the scalp so those handling much volume will probably have to resort to some sort of at least semi-rigid tubular device through which the strands can pass to be supported.

Roland DG's 50 Shades of Ginger illustrates the extent to which the spectrum can spread (centre).  Natural redhead Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left) in 2012 illustrates a classic implementation of what most probably think of as “ginger hair” while Jessica Gagen (b 1996; Miss England 2022, Miss World Europe 2023 & Miss United Kingdom 2024) appears (during heatwave, right) with what would be classified by many as a “light copper” rather than some hue of “ginger”.  Interestingly, reflecting the often disparaging use of the word (in the context of hair) “ginger” appears only infrequently on manufacturers' hair dye color charts.

Ginger can be used to describe those with “red” hair (a term which covers quite a range including shades of ginger in the conventional sense that is used of color) and such may be jocular, in disparagement or neutral.  In slang, a “ginger minger” was “an unattractive woman with ginger hair” and their “ginger minge” was their pubic hair; the male equivalent was a “ginger knob”.  In the hierarchy of vulgar slang, fire-crotch (a person who has red pubic hair) probably is worse but it should not be confused with “lightning crotch” (in obstetrics, the condition (suffered late in pregnancy), of having intense pain shoot through the vaginal area, induced especially by the baby's head lowering and bumping into the pelvis).  While a “normal symptom of pregnancy” and not typically a cause for medical intervention, it can be unpleasant; what is happening is the fetus is applying pressure on the cervix or the nerves surrounding the cervix (the cervix the lowest part of the uterus where a fetus develops).

One with a preference for ginger-haired souls could be said to be a gingerphile while one with an aversion would be a gingerphobe.  The matter of gingerphobia was explored by the US television cartoon show South Park (on Paramount+'s Comedy Central since 1997) in the episode Ginger Kids (season 9, episode 11, November 2005) in which was introduced the noun gingervitis (a portmenteau word, the construct being ginger +‎ (ging)ivitis); in pathology, the condition gingivitis is an inflammation of the gums or gingivae.  What South Park’s writers did was provide the gingerphobic with something of a rationale, gingervitis treating red headedness as if it were a disease or affliction.  Linguistically, it could have been worse: in German the synonym for gingivitis is the compound noun Zahnfleischentzündung and “zahnfleischentzündungvitis” sounds an even more distressing condition.  Neither gingerphobia nor gingervitis have ever appeared in the American Psychiatric Association's (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the DSM, in nine editions 1952-2022). 

In Cockney rhyming slang (a cant used by Cockneys in which a word or phrase is replaced by a rhyming word or phrase, this word or phrase then often being abbreviated to its first syllable or syllables, or its first word with the word chosen as the rhyme sometimes sharing attributes with the word it replaces) “ginger” meant “a bit of a homosexual” (based on the “beer” in “ginger beer” (ie “queer”)).  If that didn’t please, there was also (1) “Brighton Pier” (queer from “pier”), (2) “iron” (poof from “iron hoof”), (3) “perry” (homo from “Como”) (this was purely phonetic, the popular singer Perry Como (1912-2001) was not gay) and (4) “haricot” (queen from “haricot bean”).  However, the guides caution “stoke” (bent from “Stoke-on-Trent”) references “bent” in the sense of both “gay” and “criminal” so it should for obvious reasons be deployed with care.

The modest root of the plant (partially sliced, top left) and some of the packaged confectionery which are ginger-based.

For a variety of purposes (culinary, zoological, botanical, geological etc, dozens of derived forms have been created including: African ginger, aromatic ginger, baby ginger, black ginger, bleached ginger, blue ginger, butterfly ginger, Canada ginger, Chinese ginger, Cochin ginger, common ginger, dry ginger, Egyptian ginger, gingerade, ginger ale, ginger beer, gingerbread, ginger bug, ginger cordial, gingerette, ginger grass, ginger group, ginger-hackled, Ginger Island, gingerism, gingerlike, gingermint, ginger ninja, ginger nut, gingernut, gingerol, gingerous, gingerphobe, gingerphobia, ginger-pop, ginger root, gingersnap, gingersome, ginger wine, gingery, gingette, green ginger, Indian ginger, Jamaica ginger, Japanese ginger, kahili ginger, knock down ginger, knock-knock ginger, limed ginger, mango ginger, new ginger, pinecone ginger, pink ginger, race ginger, red ginger, sand ginger, sea ginger, shampoo ginger, shell ginger, Siamese ginger, spiral ginger, spring ginger, stem ginger, stone-ginger, Thai ginger, torch ginger, white ginger, wild ginger, yellow ginger & young ginger.

In De materia medica (On Medical Material), his five volume encyclopedic pharmacopeia on herbal medicine and related medicinal substances, the Ancient Greek physician Pedanius Dioscorides (circa 40-circa 90) included an entry for ζιγγίβερις (zingiberis) (ginger) as treatment for stomach and digestive ailments, in addition to its properties as “a warming spice”.  The historian Pliny the Elder (24-79) also discussed zingiber, noting its origin from Arabia and India and the use in medicine, especially for the stomach and digestion.  The use was picked up by physicians (officially recognized and not) in many places, both as a stimulant and acarminative (preventing the development of gas in the digestive tract) but despite the persistent myth, no document has ever been unearthed which suggests in Antiquity ginger was ever recommended as “sea-sickness medicine”.  Despite that, in the modern age, ginger is sometimes promoted as a cure (or at least an ameliorant) for nausea suffered at sea, in flight, while driving or motion-sickness in general and there appears to be some evidence to support the use.

Google ngram for Ginger group: Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.

In another example of why English (in some ways simple and logical) must seem bafflingly inconsistent to those learning the tongue, while “ginger up” and “ginger group” are phrases related to “imparting piquancy or enlivening someone or something”, to speak of proceeding “gingerly” means “acting hesitantly; with great caution”.  The explanation is the divergence is not the result of a word shifting meaning in two directions but instead two different etymologies converging phonetically in modern English.  The figurative sense of “ginger up” (familiar to the young as “gee up”) meaning “add energy or enthusiasm) emerged in the nineteenth century and came from the equestrian practice of putting ginger (or so some other irritants) in or near a horse’s anus so it would be more “spirited” (performing with greater verve or liveliness) and appear with its tail held high.  From this (the expression rather than stuff shoved in the rectum) came “ginger group” which described a (usually) small and energetic faction within a larger organization which aimed to stimulate or invigorate change or action.  The first known use of the term was in 1920s British politics.

Confusingly “gingerly” is unrelated to “ginger” and has nothing to do with novel uses of spice in equine management.  Developing in parallel with but separately from Middle English, gingerly was from the Old French gensor & gencier (which endures in Modern French as gentil (delicate; dainty), from the Latin gentilis.  Appending the suffix -ly turned adjective into adverb and by the sixteenth century gingerly came to mean “delicately, with grace or refinement” and by the early 1900s the idea of a “refined or dainty manner” evolved into “cautiously; with care”.  Gingerly is thus a “false cognate” with ginger (the spice).  There the linguistic tangle should end but because of the development of modern slang, “ginger” has established an (informal) link with “gingerly” through “gingerness” which can be both (1) a synonym for “gingerliness” (a gingerly state, attitude or behaviour and (2) in informal (sometimes derogatory) use: redheadedness.

Cinque

Cinque (pronounced singk)

(1) In certain games (those using cards, dice, dominoes etc), a card, die, or domino with five spots or pips.

(2) As cinquefoil (1) a potentilla (flower), (2) in heraldry, a stylized flower or leaf with five lobes and (3) in topology, a particular knot of five crossings.

1350–1400: From the Middle English cink, from the Old French cinq (five), from the Vulgar Latin cinque, from the Latin quīnque (five).  The archaic spelling cinq was from the modern French cinq, whereas the standard spelling probably emerged either under the influence of the Italian cinque or was simply a misspelling of the French.  In typically English fashion, the pronunciation “sank” is based on a hypercorrect approximation of the French pronunciation, still heard sometimes among what use to be called “the better classes”.  The alternative forms were cinq (archaic), sinque (obsolete) and sink & sank (both misspellings).  The homophones are cinq, sink, sync & synch (and sank at the best parties); the noun plural is cinques.

Cinque outposts, attested since the 1640s was a term which referred to the five senses.  The noun cinquecento (written sometimes as cinque-cento) is used in (as noun & adjective) criticism & academic works when describing sixteenth century Italian art and literature.  It dates from 1760, from the Italian cinquecento (literally “500”) and was short for mil cinquecento (1500).  The use to describe "a group of five, five units treated as one," especially at cards or dice, dates from the late fourteenth century and in English was borrowed directly from the French cinq, a dissimilation from Latin quinque (five) which in Late Latin also picked up the familiar spelling cinque.  The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European penkwe (five).

Cinquefoil housing stained glass (leadlight) window.

In architecture, a cinquefoil is a ornament constructed with five cuspidated divisions, the use dating from the late fifteenth century, from the Old French cinqfoil, the construct being cinq (five) + foil (leaf).  The basis for the French form was the quinquefolium, the construct being quinque (five) + folium (leaf), from the primitive Indo-European root bhel- (to thrive, bloom).  In Gothic tracery, there was a wide use of circular shapes featuring a lobe tangent to the inner side of a larger arc or arch, meeting other lobes in points called cusps projecting inwards from the arch and architects defined them by the number of foils used, indicated by the prefix: trefoil (3), quatrefoil (4), cinquefoil (5), multifoil etc.  Although used as stand-alone fixtures, bands of quatrefoils were much used for enrichment during the "Perpendicular Period" (the final phase of English Gothic architecture, dated usually between circa 1350–1550; it followed the "Decorated Style" and was characterized by strong vertical lines, large windows with intricate tracery, and elaborate fan vaulting) and, when placed with the axes set diagonally, quatrefoils were called cross-quarters.

Porsche "phone-dial" wheels, clockwise from top left: 1981 911SC, 1988 924S, 1987 944S & 1985 928S.  With a myriad of variations, the cinquefoil motif was a style for wheels used by a number of manufacturers, the best known of which were the ones with which Porsche equipped the 911, 924, 944 & 928 where they were known as the “phone-dial”, a reference which may puzzle those younger than a certain age.  Because these have five rather than ten holes, they really should have picked up the nickname "cinquefoil" rather than "phone-dial" but the former was presumably too abstract or obscure so the more accessible latter prevailed.

Fiat 500 (2023), watercolor on paper by Monika Jones.  While the artist hasn't provided notes, it's tempting to imagine the inspiration was something like “Lindsay Lohan in white dress during summer in Rome, leaning on Fiat 500, painted in the tradition of Impressionism.”

A classic of the La Dolce Vita era, the rear-engined Fiat 500 was in continuous production between 1957-1975 and was the successor to the pre-war Fiat 500 Topolino, an even more diminutive machine which proved its versatility in roles ranging from race tracks to inner-city streets to operating as support vehicles used by the Italian Army in the invasion of Abyssinia (1935).  Almost 3.9 million of the post-war 500s (dubbed the Nuova Cinquecento (New 500)) were produced and as well as the two-door saloon (almost all fitted with a folding sunroof) there were three-door station wagons (the Giardiniera) & panel vans.  Although not all wore the 500 badge, in the home market, universally Italians called them the Cinquecentro.  There was also the unusual 500 Jolly, a cut down version built by Carrozzeria Ghia which featured wicker seats and a removable fabric roof in the style of the surrey tops once used on horse-drawn carriages.  The Jolly was intended as “beach car”, some carried on the yachts of the rich and although Ghia built only 650 originals, many 500s have since been converted to “Jolly Spec”, one of coach-building’s less-demanding tasks.  Being an Italian car, there were of course high-performance versions, the wildest of which was the Steyr-Puch 650 TR2 (1965-1969) which ran so hot it was necessary to prop open the engine cover while it was in use.  The Nuova 500’s successors never achieved the same success but such was the appeal of the original that in 2007 a retro-themed 500 was released although, al la Volkswagen’s “new Beetles” (1997-2019), the configuration was switched to a water-cooled front-engine with FWD (front-wheel-drive).

1985 Ferrari Testarossa “monospecchio-monodado”.

The early Testarossas were fitted with centre-lock magnesium-alloy wheels, chosen for their lightness.  Responding to feedback from the dealer network, as a running-change during 1988, these were substituted for units with a conventional five-bolt design.  The centre-lock wheels were called monodado (one nut) while the five lug-types were the cinquedado (five nut) and because of the time-line, while all the monospecchio cars are also monodado, only some of the monodaddi are monospecchi.  Monospecchi (literally "one mirror") is an unofficial designation for the early cars fitted with a single external mirror, mounted unusually high on the A-pillar, the location the product of Ferrari's interpretation of the EU's (European Union) rearward visibility regulations.  The Eurocrats later clarified things and Testarossas subsequently were fitted with two mirrors in the usual position at the base of the A-pillar. 

Plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XE (1982-1984, left), a circa 1949 British GPO standard telephone in Bakelite (centre) (globally, the most produced handset in this style was the Model 302, which, with a thermoplastic case, was manufactured in the US by Western Electric between 1937-1955 and plastic wheelcover for the Ford (Australia) Fairmont XF (1984-1988, right).  Telephones with larger dial mechanisms usually didn't use all the available space for the finger-holes.

Probably some are annoyed at the “five-hole” wheel design coming to be known as the “phone-dial” because of course the classic rotary-dial mechanism had ten holes, one for each numeral.  Ford Australia actually stuck to the classics when designing a plastic wheel-cover for the XE Fairmont (then the next rung up in the Falcon's pecking order) because it featured the correct ten holes and it was re-allocated as a “hand-me-down” for the Falcon when the XF was introduced, the Fairmont now getting an eight-hole unit.  None of these seem ever to have been dubbed “phone-dials”, probably because plastic wheel–covers have never been a fetish like the older metal versions or aluminium wheels (often as “rims” in modern usage, a practice which also annoys some).  The XE hubcap may be thought a decemfoil (10 leaf) and the XF unit a octofoil (8 leaf).

1971 Ford (South Africa) XY Fairmont GT with the GS Pack wheel covers.

The South African Fairmont GTs were never fitted with the "five slot" wheels used in Australia, getting instead the chromed wheel cover which in Australia was part of the "GS Pack", a collection of "dress-up" options designed to provide much of the look of a GT without the additional costs to purchase or insure one.  The GS Pack wheel covers were first seen in Australia on the 1967 XR Falcon GT and came from the Mercury parts bin in the US where they'd appeared on the 1966 Mercury Comet Cyclone GT; they were designed to look like a chromed, naked wheel, the idea a tribute to the Californian hot rod community in which the motif originated.

1971 Ford (Australia) XY Falcon GT with “five slot” wheels.

Although scholars of Latin probably haven’t given much thought to the wheels Ford used in the 1960s & 1970s, their guidance would be helpful because the correct Latin form for “slot” depends on context, the words being (1) Fissura: “crack, split or narrow opening”, (2) Rima: “narrow gap or slit”, (3) Foramen: “opening, hole or perforation” and (4) Scissura “cleft or division”.  So a XY GT’s wheel would be a cinquefissura, cinquerima, cinqueforamen or cinquescissura.  The scholars would have to rule but cinquerima seems best, tied in nicely with the modern (albeit contested) use of “rim” to mean wheel.      

In production over six generations between 1965-2008 the Fairmont was a "blinged-up" version of the Australian Ford Falcon (1960-2016), a car based on the US compact (1960-1969) Ford of the same name (the one-off 1970 US Falcon an entry level model in the intermediate Torinio (formerly Fairlane) range).  Ford in the US would also use the Fairmont name for a compact (1978-1983) but the most quirky use was that between 1969-1971, Ford South Africa sold a car substantially similar to the Australian Falcon GT but badged it "Fairmont GT".  Assembled (with some local components) in South Africa from CKD (completely knocked down) packs imported from Australia, the Fairmont name was chosen because US Falcons (assembled from Canadian CKD packs) had been sold in South Africa between 1960-1963 but had gained such a bad reputation (Ford Australia had to do much rectification work after encountering the same fragility) the nameplate was decreed tainted.  In the technical sense, "Fairmont GT" would have been a more accurate name in Australia too because the Falcon GTs were, with the bling, built on the Fairmont assembly line; the choice of "Falcon GT" was just a desire by the marketing team to create a "halo" machine for the mainstream range, something which succeeded to an degree which probably surprised even those ever-optimistic types.  Ford South Africa never offered a Fairmont GTHO to match the Falcon GTHOs produced in Australia to homologate certain combinations of parts for competition.

Lamborghini has used the phone-dial since the first incarnation appeared on the Silhouette in 1976 and it likes it still, left to right: Huranan, Gallardo, Countach, Diablo and Silhouette.  With five "holes", these are true cinquefoils.

Despite being often called a "hubcap", what appeared on the South African Fairmont GTs really was a "wheel cover".  The origin of the hubcap was, fairly obviously, “a cap for hub”, something which dates from the age of horse-drawn carts.  Although they would later become something decorative, hubcaps began as a purely function fitting designed to ensure the hub mechanism was protected from dirt and moisture because removing a wheel when the hub was caked in mud with bolts “rusted on” could be a challenge.  In the twentieth century the practice was carried over to the automobile, initially without much change but as wheels evolved from the wooden-spoked to solid steel (and even in the 1920s some experimented with aluminium), the hubcaps became larger because the securing bolts were more widely spaced.  This meant they became a place to advertise so manufacturers added their name and before long, especially in the US, the humble hubcap evolved into the “wheel-cover”, enveloping the whole circle and they became a styling feature, designs ranging from the elegant to the garishly ornate and some were expensive: in 1984 a set of replacement “wire” wheel covers for a second generation Cadillac Seville (the so-called “bustle-back”, 1980-1985) listed at US$995.00 if ordered as a Cadillac part-number and then that was a lot of money.  By the late 1980s, most wheel covers were plastic pressings, other than in places like the isolated environments behind the Iron Curtain.

Beltless: Lindsay Lohan in 2004 using touch-dial wall-phone, note the hooking of the thumbs in the belt loops.

Remarkably, although touch-dial (ie buttons) handsets appeared in the consumer market as early as 1963 and soon became the standard issue, in 2024 it’s possible still to buy new, rotary-dial phones although only the user experience remains similar; internally the connections are effected with optical technology, the “sound & feel” emulated.  There’s also a market for updating the old Bakelite & Thermoplastic units (now typically between 70-90 years old) with internals compatible with modern telephony so clearly there’s some nostalgia for the retro-look, if not the exact experience.  Even after the touch-dial buttons became ubiquitous the old terminology persisted among users (and in the manufacturers' documents); when making calls users continued to "dial the number".  The same sort of linguistic legacy exists today because ending a call is still the act of "hanging up" and that dates from the very early days of telephony when the ear-piece was a large conical attachment on a cord and at a call's conclusion, it was "hung up" on a arm, the weight of the receiver lowering the arm which physically separated two copper connectors, terminating the link between the callers.  

Ms Justine Haupt with custom rotary-dial cell phone in turquoise.

Ms Justine Haupt (b 1987), an astronomy instrumentation engineer at New York’s Brookhaven National Laboratory went a step further (backwards, or perhaps sideways, some might suggest) and built a rotary-dial cell phone from scratch because of her aversion to what she describes as “smartphone culture and texting”, something to which many will relate.  In what proved a three year project, Ms Haupt used a rotary-dial mechanism from a Trimline telephone (introduced in 1965 and produced by Western Electric, the manufacturing unit of the Bell System), mounted on a case 4 x 3 x 1 inches (100 x 75 x 25 mm) in size with a noticeably protuberant aerial; it used an AT&T prepaid sim card and had a battery-life of some 24-30 hours.  Conforming to the designer’s choices of functionality, it includes two speed-dial buttons, an e-paper display and permits neither texting nor internet access.  

Designer colors: Available in black, white, turquoise, beige and the wonderful Atomic Hotline Red.  The "atomic" in the name is an allusion the hotline's origin in the aftermath of the Cuban Missile Crisis (October 1962) which was all about nuclear weapons.

Although she intended the device as a one-off for her own use, Ms Haupt was surprised at the interest generated and in 2022 began selling a kit (US$170) with which others could build their own, all parts included except the rotary-dial mechanism which would need to be sourced from junk shops and such.  Unlike the larger mechanism on the traditional desk or wall-mounted telephone, the holes in the Trimline’s smaller rotary-dial used the whole circle so the ten-hole layout is symmetrical and thus the same as the XE Fairmont’s wheelcover, something doubtlessly wholly coincidental.  Unfortunately, Ms Haupt encountered many difficulties (bringing to market a device which connects to public telephony networks involves processes of greater complexity than selling mittens and such) but the project remains afoot.

The rough-fruited cinquefoil or sulphur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta).

In botany, the potentila is a genus containing some three-hundred species of annual, biennial and perennial herbaceous flowering plants in the rose (rosaceae) family.  Since the 1540s it’s been referred to as the cinquefoil (also “five fingers” or “silverweeds”), all distinguished by their compound leaves of five leaflets.

The Confederation of Cinque Ports was a group of coastal towns in Kent, Sussex and Essex, the name from the Old French which means literally “five harbors”.  The five were Hastings, Sandwich, Dover, Romney, and Hythe, all on the western shore of the English Channel, where the crossing to the continent is narrowest.  Because of (1) their importance in cross-channel trade and (2) being in the region ,most vulnerable to invasion, they were granted special privileges and concessions by the Crown in exchange for providing certain services essential for maritime defense, dating from the years prior to the formation of the Royal Navy in the fifteenth century.  The name was first used in the late twelfth century in Anglo-Latin and the late thirteenth in English.

An early version of a PPP (public-private partnership), with no permanent navy to defend it from sea-borne aggression, the crown contracted with the confederation to provide what was essentially a naval reserve to be mobilized when needed. Earlier, Edward the Confessor (circa 1003–1066; King of England 1042-1066) had contracted the five most important strategically vital Channel ports of that era to provide ships and men “for the service of the monarch” and although this was used most frequently as a “cross-Channel ferry service” and was not exclusively at the disposal of the government.  Under the Norman kings, the institution assumed the purpose of providing the communications and logistical connections essential to keeping together the two halves of the realm but after the loss of Normandy in 1205, their ships and ports suddenly became England’s first line of defense against the French.  The earliest charter still extant dates from 1278 but a royal charter of 1155 charged the ports with the corporate duty to maintain in readiness fifty-seven ships, each to be available each year for fifteen days in the service of the king, each port fulfilling a proportion of the whole duty.  In return the ports and towns received a number of tax breaks and privileges including: An exemption from tax and tolls, limited autonomy, the permission to levy tolls, certain law enforcement and judicial rights, possession of lost goods that remain unclaimed after a year and of flotsam (floating wreckage and such) & jetsam (goods thrown overboard).  Even at the time this was thought to be a good deal and the leeway afforded to the Cinque Ports and the substantial absence of supervision from London led inevitability to smuggling and corruption although in this the Cinque Ports were hardly unique.

The Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports was something like a viceroy and the office still exists today but is now purely ceremonial and, although technically relict, remains a sinecure and an honorary title, regarded as one of the higher honors bestowed by the Sovereign and a sign of special approval by the establishment which includes the entitlement to the second oldest coat of arms of England.  The prestige it confers on the holder is derived from (1) it being the gift of the sovereign, (2) it being England’s most ancient military honor and (3), the illustrious standing of at least some of the previous hundred and fifty-eight holders of the office.  It is a lifetime appointment.

William Lygon (1872-1938), seventh Earl Beauchamp, in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

The office of lord warden has not been without the whiff of scandal.  William Lygon, who in 1891 succeeded his father as the seventh Earl Beauchamp, was at twenty-seven appointed governor of New South Wales, a place to which he would later return, happily and otherwise.  In 1913, Lord Beauchamp, well-connected in society and the ruling Liberal Party’s leader in the House of Lords, was appointed Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports and, fond of pomp, ceremony and dressing-up, he enjoyed the undemanding role.  However, in 1930, he embarked on a round-the-world tour which included a two-month stint in Sydney, where he stayed, accompanied by a young valet who lived with him as his lover.  This, along with other antics, did not go unnoticed, and the Australian Star newspaper duly reported:

“The most striking feature of the vice-regal ménage is the youthfulness of its members … rosy cheeked footmen, clad in liveries of fawn, heavily ornamented in silver and red brocade, with many lanyards of the same hanging in festoons from their broad shoulders, [who] stood in the doorway, and bowed as we passed in … Lord Beauchamp deserves great credit for his taste in footmen.”

The report found its way to London when Beauchamp’s brother-in-law, the second Duke of Westminster (1879–1953), hired detectives to gather evidence, hoping to destroy him and damage the Liberal Party, the Tory duke hating both.  Evidence proved abundant and not hard to find so in 1931 Westminster publicly denounced Beauchamp as a homosexual to the king (George V 1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936), who was appalled and responded that he “…thought men like that always shot themselves.”  Westminster insisted a warrant be issued for Beauchamp’s arrest and that forced him into exile.

Lady Beauchamp seems to have shown some confusion upon being informed of her husband’s conduct.  Although he had enjoyed many liaisons in their (admittedly large) residences (his partners including servants, socialites & local fishermen) and his proclivities were an open secret known to many in society, his wife remained oblivious and expressed some confusion about what homosexuality was.  Leading a sheltered existence, Lady Beauchamp had never been told about the mechanics of “the detestable and abominable vice of buggery” and was baffled, thinking her husband was being accused of being a bugler.  Actually, that evocative phrase from the statute of 1533 no longer existed in English law so someone must have gone into the details with her because the charge would have been “Gross Indecency contrary to Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885”.  The change had been created by the so-called Labouchere Amendment and it solved the practical problem created by the specificity of the words of the sixteenth century.  For the state, the problem was the old law had been too exact in that if the prosecution could not beyond reasonable doubt prove anal sex had happened between at least two “male persons”, a conviction couldn’t be secured.  Thus the attraction of the phrase “Gross Indecency” which covered the whole vista of “unnatural caresses” and it was under the new law Irish writer Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) was tried and convicted, receiving a sentence of two years.  So it cast a wider net but was less harsh in that as late as 1861 a conviction could attract the death penalty although this was thought so onerous a punishment for what was often a consensual act that prosecutions became rare.  Despite the reforms in England, in some parts of the old British Empire, terminology like “the abominable crime of buggery” remained on the statute books until late in the twentieth century.

Once things were became clear in Lady Beauchamp's mind, she petitioned for divorce, the papers describing the respondent as: “A man of perverted sexual practices, [who] has committed acts of gross indecency with male servants and other male persons and has been guilty of sodomy … throughout the married life … the respondent habitually committed acts of gross indecency with certain of his male servants.”  Tipped-off (then as now, the establishment had a "gay network"), his lordship promptly decamped, first to Germany which then would have seemed a prudent choice because, although homosexual acts between men had been illegal since the unification of Germany in 1871, under the Weimar Republic (1918-1933), enforcement was rare and a gay culture flourished blatantly in the larger German cities, the Berlin scene famous even then, the writer Christopher Isherwood (1904–1986) describing things memorably although it wasn't until his diaries were later published one fully could "read between the lines".  After the Nazis gained power in 1933, things changed and Beauchamp contemplated satisfying George V’s assumption but was dissuaded, instead spending his time between Paris, Venice, Sydney and San Francisco, four cities with a tolerant sub-culture and certainly places where wealthy gay men usually could bribe their way out of any legal unpleasantness.

Sir Robert Menzies in uniform as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports.

Sir Robert Menzies (1894–1978; prime-minister of Australia 1939-1941 & 1949-1966) was one of the more improbable appointments as lord warden.  In the office (1965-1978), he replaced Sir Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) on whom the hardly onerous duties had been imposed in 1941.  The old soldier Churchill had spent a lifetime appearing in a variety of military uniforms (his RAF (Royal Air Force) Air Commodore's outfit adorned with "pilot's wings" (aviator badge), "awarded" by the RAF on the basis of flying lessons (concluded after a non-fatal crash) he'd undertaken at the Royal Naval Flying School at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey while serving as First Lord of the Admiralty (1911-1915)) and wore it well but the very civilian Menzies looked something like one of the characters from a Gilbert & Sullivan (Sir William Gilbert (1836–1911) & Sir Arthur Sullivan (1842–1900) comic opera.  That he was made lord warden rather than being granted a peerage was thought by some emblematic of the changing relationship between the UK and Australia.

After the death of George V, the warrant for Beauchamp’s arrest was lifted and, in July 1937, he returned to England.  What did come as a surprise to many was that soon after his arrival, invitations were issued for a Beauchamp ball, ostensibly a coming-of-age celebration for Richard Lygon (1916-1970; the youngest son) but universally regarded as an attempt at a social resurrection.  In a sign of the times, much of London society did attend although there were those who declined and made it known why.  Still, it seems to have appeared a most respectable and even successful event, Henry "Chips" Channon (1897-1958) noting in his diary it was a bit dull, the “only amusing moment when Lord Beauchamp escorted… a negress cabaret singer into supper.  People were cynically amused but I was not surprised, knowing of his secret activities in Harlem.  It is never a long step from homosexuality to black ladies.”  Lord Beauchamp didn’t long enjoy his return to society, dying within a year of the ball but the vicissitudes of his life were helpful to Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) when writing Brideshead Revisited (1945), the character of Lord Marchmain based on Beauchamp himself while the ill-fated Sebastian Flyte was inspired by Beauchamp’s son Hugh (1904-1936) who shared and (with some enthusiasm) pursued some of his father’s interests.  Despite it all, an appointment as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is for life and Lord Beauchamp remained in office until his death.