Corinthian

Corinthian (kuh-rin-thee-uhn)

(1) Of, pertaining to, or characteristic of Corinth, the ancient Greek city-state.

(2) An native, inhabitant or resident of Corinth, and its suburbs.

(3) Something with origins in Corinthia.

(4) One of the five styles of classical architecture in Ancient Greece (the others being Doric, Composite, Tuscan & Ionic).

(5) Something ornate and elaborate; something luxurious or extravagantly trimmed

(6) In literacy criticism, an ornate style (an alternative to describing such writing as "rococo" or "baroque" but distinct from "purple").

(7) Someone given to living luxuriously; dissolute.

(8) A worldly, fashionable person, accepted in society although thought by some to be raffish.

(9) An amateur sportsman; an accomplished amateur athlete (archaic).

(10) A sailboat owner who helms his or her own boat in competitive racing.

(11) A phony descriptor of a type of leather used by Chrysler Corporation in the US during the 1970s.

1350–1400: From the Middle English Corinthi(es) (the men of Corinth) from the Latin Corinthiī from the Greek Korínthioi.  The sense “of or pertaining to Corinth" (the ancient Greek city-state) is from the 1590s and gradually, it replaced the mid-fifteenth adjective Corynthoise.  The sense as a classification in what was becoming a formalised architectural order is from the 1650s.  The noun meaning literally "inhabitant of Corinth" dates from the 1520s; Corinthies was attested from the late fourteenth century.  During Antiquity, other Greek cities regarded the inhabitants of Corinth as a bit gauche, noting their preference for ornate, almost ostentatious architecture and their notorious fondness for luxury and licentiousness.  There was intellectual snobbery among the Athenians too, the Corinthians thought too interested in commerce and profit and not sufficiently devoted to thought and learning.  Corinthian the noun and adjective thus, in various slang or colloquial senses in English, came to be associated with extravagance, sin and conspicuous consumption, especially in the decades after the 1820s.  Corinthian is a noun & adjective, Corinthianism is a noun and Corinthianize, Corinthianizing & Corinthianized are verbs; the noun plural is Corinthians.

The dapper Franz von Papen while serving as Germany's ambassador to Turkey (1939-1944).

In a nod to Paul's writings in the New Testament, the verb Corinthianize came to mean “to be licentious or sexually immoral” while the companion noun Corinthianism described licentious or sexually immoral behaviour.  Softened a little, by the eighteenth century, “a Corinthian” could be used also of a chap a bit raffish but verging on socially respectable and welcomed in at least some polite circles.  Presumably by association, the word came to be used also of sporting events (originally horse racing and yachting) which were restricted to “gentleman amateurs”.  Thus the old rogue Franz von Papen (1879-1969; Chancellor of Germany 1932 & vice chancellor 1933-1934), an accomplished amateur jockey, could have been called “a Corinthian” and the sly fox demonstrated his defensive skills when he gained one of three acquittals handed down the IMT (International Military Tribunal) during the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946).  Although unrelated to the verdict, the journalists accredited to the trial voted him “best-dressed defendant”.

A tattoo Lindsay Lohan tattoo (inked in 2013), inspired by 1 Corinthians 13:4-8.

In scripture, the implications of that association were later reflected in the New Testament, most memorably in Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians (2 Corinthians 1).  The second letter is thought to have been written circa 56 AD, shortly after he penned the first and was addressed to the Christian community in city of Corinth, a major trading centre which, although by then noted for its rich artistic and philosophic traditions, was a place also of vice and depravity.  It was this last aspect that compelled Paul’s first letter to the Corinthian church and in it he sharply rebuked them for permitting immoral practices in the community.  In response, the Corinthians had cracked-down on some of the worst excesses and Paul wrote his second letter to congratulate them on their reforms and even commended forgiving sinners and welcoming them back to the flock.  Harsh though his words could be, Paul’s preference is always restoration, not punishment.  The letter then discusses some sometimes neglected characteristics of the Christian church such as generosity to others and devotes some time to defending himself against attacks on his ministry, reminding the Corinthians both of his own poverty and the harsh reality of what it meant to be a minister of Christ in the Roman empire: beatings, imprisonment, hunger, and the constant threat of death.  In the King James Version (KJV; 1611) 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 read:

4 Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

5 Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;

6 Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

7 Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

8 Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

Most quoted now are modern translations which are more accessible such as the International Bible Society's (now Biblica) New International Version (NIV; 1978):

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

In Paul’s prescriptive way, verses 4-7 details the workings of love in three steps.  There are firstly the positive aspects of love being patient and kind but then elaborated are the eight negatives love must never be: not jealous, boastful, arrogant, rude, irritable or resentful, nor does it insist upon its own way or gloat at wrong.  Finally, Paul notes the five positive ways in which love reacts, joining in rejoicing at truth, supports, believes, hopes and endures all things.  Verse 8 returns to the theme of superiority of love but explicates the contrast between love and spiritual gifts as the contrast between permanence and transience; spiritual gifts which are incomplete will pass when wholeness comes whereas love will not.  The contrast is thus between the perfect and imperfect.

United States Supreme Court Building (1935), looking towards the West Pediment.

The Corinthian style of architecture was one of the five classical orders created in Ancient Greece.  Similar in many ways to the Ionic, the points of difference were (1) the unusually slender proportions, (2) the deep capital with its round bell, decorated with acanthus leaves and a square abacus with concave sides.  The Corinthian capital typically has two distinct rows of acanthus leaves above which appear eight fluted sheaths, from each of which spring two scrolls (helices), one of which curls beneath a corner of the abacus as half of a volute while the other curls beneath the centre of the abacus.  The marble pillars used on the east and west pediments of the United States Supreme Court Building, constructed between 1932-1935, are a fine example of the Corinthian style.

United States Supreme Court Building, East Pediment.

Much less known than the more frequently photographed West Pediment, the East Pediment of the Supreme Court Building is at the rear of the structure and is much admired by architects because of the elegance of the thirteen symmetrically balanced allegorical figures in the sculptural group designed by Hermon A MacNeil (1866–1947).  The ornate details in the two rows of acanthus leaves are the defining characteristic of the Corinthian pillar.

Manuel Esteve Guerrero (1905-1976) in Corinthian helmet, 1938.  The casual pose, cigarette in hand, a cloak (resembling a Greek chlamys) slung over one shoulder, indicates the image was for “non-professional” use.

Manuel Esteve Guerrero had begun his academic studies at the University of Granada studying law but such was his interest in archaeology he switched disciplines, taking a degree in philosophy and literature, specializing in art history.  After working for some years as a teacher at the Padre Luis Coloma Institute, he was in 1931 appointed director of the Jerez Municipal Library (1873) when he remained until retirement in 1975, his most controversial duty in the role the period in the 1930s & 1940s when he was vested with responsibility for enforcing the strict censorship policies imposed by the newly established fascist regime Generalissimo Francisco Franco (1892-1975; Caudillo of Spain 1939-1975).  That would have been no small task because, under the caudillo, the index of proscribed texts was long.  As librarian, he was also, ex officio, municipal archaeologist and in 1938 his team made the remarkable discovery of a well-preserved Corinthian helmet, unearthed some 20 kilometres (12 miles) from the mouth of the Guadalete River, near the now-decommissioned irrigation dam known as La Corta, close to El Portal in the municipality of Jerez.  The significance of the artefact (widely publicized on both sides of the Atlantic as “Discovery of a Greek Helmet in the Guadalete”) was the confirmation of the long-suspected Greek presence in Andalusia during the seventh & sixth centuries BC.

Publicity shot for Chrysler Corporation's 1974 Imperial LeBaron Four-Door Hardtop, trimmed in chestnut tufted leather.

The hide in the 1974 Imperials wasn't described as “rich Corinthian leather” which was (mostly) exclusive to the Cordoba (1975-1983) until late 1975 when not only did the Imperial's brochures mention "genuine Corinthian leather (available at extra cost)" but for the first time since 1954 the range was referred to as the "Chrysler Imperial", a harbinger the brand was about to be retired.  Imperial's advertising copy noted of the brochure photograph above: “...while the passenger restraint system with starter interlock is not shown, it is standard on all Imperials.”; the marketing types didn't like seat-belts messing up their photos.  While all of the big three (GM, Ford & Chrysler) had tufted interiors in some lines, it was Chrysler which displayed the most commitment to the motif.  Although Chrysler mostly used the term “rich Corinthian leather” in the sales material for the Cordoba, after it appear in the brochures for the last (for a while) Imperial, it became common to refer thus to the leather in any of the corporation's cars of the era.  Some did with a sense of irony while some innocent souls actually believed it.  Manufacturers do like words which might evoke a "certain something" and in the 1970s Rolls-Royce advertised their timber veneer as "Circassian walnut cut from century-old trees" which was a correct term for Juglans regia (a species of walnut) but the stuff was more typically called "English walnut" or "common walnut".  Neither would have been though suitable and for Rolls-Royce to use "common" about any of their products would have been unthinkable.

1975 Imperial LeBaron Four Door Hardtop.

"Rich Corinthian leather" was a term coined by the Bozell advertising agency in 1975 to describe the tufted upholstery available as an alternative to the standard velour in the Chrysler Cordoba, the hides in corporation's products trimmed with the same leather produced by the Radel Leather Manufacturing Company of New Jersey described only as "leather" (except for the reference in certain advertising for the 1975 Imperial, then in its last days).  The "Corinthian" tag was chosen because something special was needed for the Cordoba, the first "small" (in the context of the company's mid 1970s line-up) Chrysler ever offered in the US and the name was thought successfully to convey the association with something rare, of high quality, luxurious and, doubtlessly, "European".  Religiosity in the US somewhat more entrenched than elsewhere in the West, it’s likely many were well-acquainted with the books of the New Testament book but for those less pious, Corinthian was one of those words which somehow carried the desired connotations, even among those with no idea of the links.  Perhaps it was because it sounded European that some assumed the leather came from Spain, Italy or some such place where many words end in vowels.  Richard Nixon (1913-1994; POTUS 1969-1974) noted that linguistic phenomenon when he discussed the circumstances in which Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961) was compelled to dismiss his chief of staff (Sherman Adams (1899-1986)), who had accepted as a gift, inter alia, a vicuña coat.  Nixon observed that while there was no doubt most Americans had no idea whether vicuña was animal, vegetable or mineral, just the perceived mystique was enough to convince them it was something expensive and therefore corrupting.

1976 Chrysler Cordoba advertisement.  When released as a 1975 model, Chrysler heralded the Cordoba as "the new small Chrysler".  The word "small" is relative, the significance being the departure from the corporation's long-standing policy of the Chrysler brand not appearing on anything except "full-sized cars" but economic reality was biting the 1970s and the big cars were in their last days.  Then (as now), to most of the rest of the world, the Cordoba seemed pretty big and at the time the appeal in the US was real, even those not greatly concerned about the increase in the price of gas (petrol) fretting about the prospect of shortages. 

Whether the association with the Cordoba's “rich Corinthian leather” generated many sales in Chrysler's other divisions (Plymouth, Dodge & Imperial) isn’t known but the the phrase certainly gained a remarkable traction amid the cacophony of exaggeration and puffery which sustains modern capitalism.  The Cordoba was introduced in 1975 as a "down-sized" model for consumers suddenly interested in fuel economy in the post oil-crisis world and the manufacturers knew those who felt compelled to buy smaller cars didn’t necessarily want them to be any less luxurious and that became the theme for the promotional campaign, led this time on television and fronted by a celebrity spokesperson, the actor Ricardo Montalbán (1920-2009).  Born in Mexico of Spanish descent, Montalbán looked distinguished and spoke in cultivated English with just enough of a Spanish accent to make plausible the link of “Corinthian leather” with cattle on the plains of Spain.  Mr Montalbán only ever spoke of "Corinthian leather" or "rich Corinthian leather" but in the print advertising "Corinthian leather" & "fine Corinthian leather" (sometimes with a plural "leathers" also appeared.  Despite that, the industry myth remains his TV advertisements all included "fine Corinthian leather".  

In the advertising, Mr Montalbán spoke of “the thickly-cushioned luxury of seats, available even in rich Corinthian leather” and although sometimes he’d call it “soft” instead, all people seemed to remember was the leather was Corinthian.  So successful was the campaign that Chrysler decided to make the Corinthian label exclusive to the Cordoba and when Mr Montalbán was later assigned to advertise other Chryslers, in the same mellifluous tone, he commended only the “rich leather".  Later, when interviewed on late night television, cheerfully he admitted that the term meant nothing but that wasn't quite true: it meant whatever people who heard it wanted it to mean and that made it a perfect word for advertising.  The agency definitely were proud of their appropriation and when the 1977 Cordoba's steering wheel gained a leather covering, this was celebrated in the brochure with: "...hand-stitched Corinthian leather-covered rim-tilt steering wheel.  Marvelous."

1970 Ford Mustang Boss 429 (left) in Grabber Blue (J) with “comfortweave” interior in Corinthian White (EW) interior and 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 (right) in Wimbledon White (M) with black interior (all 1969 Boss 429s were trimmed in black (DAA)).

Before Chrysler decided “Corinthian leather” was a thing, Ford had conjured up “Corinthian white”, using the description for both a paint code and the vinyl used for interior trim.  Ford’s Corinthian White was very close to their long used “Wimbledon White”, the latter slightly less stark and closer to an “eggshell white” although far from a “cream”.  The difference is apparent only if two vehicles are parked side-by-side and restoration houses say Corinthian White can be re-created by paint suppliers which achieve the effect by adding a small amount of a certain shade of blue to the mix.

The Rolls-Royce Camargue

Although it’s never been confirmed by the factory, one source claims that a consequence of Chrysler's agency in 1974 coming up with “rich Corinthian leather” was that Rolls-Royce was forced to abandon the idea of calling their new model the Corinthian, adopting instead Camargue, (a region on the Mediterranean coast in the south of France).  For Rolls-Royce, Camargue was probably a better choice, tying in with their existing Corniche two-door saloon (which many might have called a coupé) and convertible (by the 1970s factory (mostly) had ceased to use the historic terms FHC (Fixed-Head coupé) and DHC (Drop-Head Coupé (DHC) although there was in 2007 a nostalgic, one-off revival for the Phantom Drophead Coupé).  The French word corniche has certain technical meanings in geology and architecture but Roll-Royce used it in the sense of “a coastal road, especially one cut into the face of a cliff”, specifically using the imagery of the Grande Corniche on the French Riviera, just north of the principality of Monaco.  The factory had first used the Corniche name in 1939 for a prototype light-weight, high-performance car which could match the pace of the big, supercharged, straight-eight Mercedes-Benz able to explore Germany’s newly built autobahns at sustained high speeds never before possible.  The car was damaged during testing in France and was abandoned there after the outbreak of hostilities, only to be destroyed in a bombing raid although whether the Luftwaffe (the German air force) or the RAF (the UK's Royal Air Force) was responsible isn’t known.

1968 Bentley T1 Coupé Speciale by Pininfarina (chassis CBH4033).  After this, it wasn't as if the factory wasn't aware of how Italians thought a Rolls-Royce or Bentley coupé should look and the Speciale should have been a warning heeded although, to be fair, it was more accomplished than the Camargue.  Modernists, the Italians replaced the Circassian walnut veneer with black leather.

So whether it was a minor ripple of chaos theory or the factory always intended to continue allusions to continental geography, in 1975 the Camargue was released with few technical innovations of interest other than the automatic, split-level climate control system which was an industry first and said alone to cost about as much to produce as a middle-class buyer might spend on a whole vehicle.  Other footnotes included it being the first Rolls-Royce designed and produced (except for the odd carry-over component) using metric measurements and the first with the famous grill inclined at (for mid-century Rolls-Royce), a rakish 7^o rather than the perfectly vertical aspect always before used.   Now noticeably lower and wider, the grill still was built using a variant of the technique the architects of Antiquity employed to create the optical illusion of the columns appearing, to the naked eye, to be of identical dimensions although it wasn't exactly the old math of entasis which made a viewer perceive a slightly curved Corinthian pillar as perfectly perpendicular.

The Pantheon Temple, Rome (left) and 1985 Rolls-Royce Camargue (right).

The Pantheon's Latin inscription M·AGRIPPA·L·F·COS·TERTIVM·FECIT really isn't all that poetic and reads like a note the draftsman might have put on the blueprint (had there then been blueprints): it translates as "Marcus Agrippa, son of Lucius, made [this building] when consul for the third time", crediting the Roman statesman & general, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa (circa 63 BC–12 BC) who in 27 BC commissioned the construction during his third consulship.  The Pantheon that stands today was rebuilt by Emperor Hadrian (Publius Aelius Hadrianus, 76–138; Roman emperor 117-138) circa 126 AD after the original structure suffered severe damage in a blaze. Hadrian choosing to retain Agrippa's inscription as a tribute (not all the emperors were narcissists).  Since AD 609, the Pantheon has been a Roman-Catholic church and is known as the Basilica Santa Maria ad Martyres (Basilica of St. Mary and the Martyrs).

Despite the popular perception, what Rolls-Royce describes as their "Pantheon grill" doesn't feature a classic entasis (slight swelling in the middle of a column to counteract the illusion of concavity) but the design does incorporate a similar visual effect: There is a (very) slight curvature which in the factory's vernacular is known as the "waftline".  Although there are, understandably, many references to the grill being the "Parthenon grill" (and there is a well-reviewed Greek restaurant in Murfreesboro, Tennessee called the Parthenon Grille), the factory has never used the term and say the designed was inspired by "Rome’s imposing Pantheon temple", a structure "...purposefully built with wider middle sections so the human eye perceives each long pillar to be completely straight."  What the architects of Antiquity did was use use an optical illusion as a "corrective" to achieve perfect visual symmetry and the Rolls-Royce engineers replicated the approach, the grill's columns wider towards the edges.  The waftline is used elsewhere, notably the gentle, upswept sweep along the sill-line which Rolls-Royce says "creates a powerful, poised stance and makes the car appear to be moving when stationary...", creating the impression of "calm perfect motion and accelerating quickly without fuss".  They clearly like the word "waft" because they coined the neologism "waftability" which is said to be "the essence of the brand".

1973 Rolls-Royce Corniche Saloon (left) and 1975 Rolls-Royce Camargue (right).

In 1975 however, it wasn't the almost imperceptible rake of the grill or the adoption of metric measurements which attracted most comment when the Camargue made its debut.  What was most discussed was (1) it being the world’s most expensive production car and (2) the appearance.  At that end of the market, the 30%-odd cost premium against the mechanically similar Corniche wasn’t going to produce the same effects in the elasticity of demand as would be noted lower in automotive pecking order, indeed, the Veblen effect can operate to make the more expensive product more desirable.  The consensus was the Corniche, although by then a decade-old shape, was better balanced and more elegant so for success to ensue, Rolls-Royce really were counting on Veblen to exert its pull.

Lancia Florida II (1957, left), Fiat 130 Coupé (1971, centre) & Rolls-Royce Camargue (1975, right).  The origin of the shape is most discernible in Pininfarina’s Lancia Florida, a different approach to the big coupé than would be taken in the 1950s by the Americans.  The later Fiat 130 coupé was one of those aesthetic triumphs which proved a commercial failure while the Camargue is thought a failure on all grounds although, for those who prize some degree of exclusivity, it remains a genuine rarity.  As it was, between 1975-1986, only 531 Camargues were sold (including a one-off Bentley version which was a "special order") while the Corniche lasted from 1971 until 1995, 6,823 leaving the factory including 561 Bentleys, the latter now much sought.  In a sense, the Camargue was ahead of its time because Rolls-Royce in the twenty-first century began offering some quite ugly cars and they have sold well, the Veblen effect working well.  

Unfortunately, the Camargue, while it did what it did no worse than a Corniche saloon, while doing it, it looked ungainly.  Styled by the revered Italian studio Pinninfarina, the look was derided as dated, derivative and clumsy and it’s this which has usually been thought to account for production barely topping 500 over the decade-odd it remained available.  In the years since, some tried to improve things and a number have been made into convertibles, an expensive exercise which actually made things worse, the roof-line one of the few pleasing aspects.  One buyer though was sufficiently impressed to commission a one-off Bentley version, one of the few instances of a model which genuinely can be claimed to be unique. The same designer at Carrozzeria Pininfarina who signed off on the Camargue was also responsible for the earlier Fiat 130 coupé, something in the same vein but on a smaller scale and the Fiat is a rectilinear masterpiece.

Platform by Mercedes-Benz, coachwork by Pininfarina.  1956 300 SC (left), 1963 230 SL (centre) & 1969 300 SEL 6.3 (right).

Whether the knife-edged severity of the 130 coupé could successfully have been up-scaled to the dimensions Rolls-Royce required is debatable but Pininfarina had lying around a styling exercise done years earlier, based on a Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL 6.3 and it was this which seems to have inspired the Camargue.  The Italian studio’s interest in Mercedes-Benz had in preceding decades produced some admired designs although the occasional plans for limited production runs were never realized.  In 1955, a coupé based on the 300b saloon had been shown, followed a year later by a 300 SC which most thought better executed, and certainly more contemporary, than the Germans' own effort.  The best though was probably the 1963 230 SL which lost both the distinctive pagoda roof and some of leanness for which the delicate lines are most remembered but it was thought a successful interpretation.  Mercedes-Benz should of course have produced a two-door 300 SE 6.3 because the W111/W112 two door body (1961-1971) was their finest achievement but the planet lost nothing by Pininfarina's take on the idea being rightly ignored.  In retrospect Rolls-Royce probably wished they too had "failed to proceed" and when the time came to do another big coupé, the job was done in-house, the Bentley Continental (1991-2003) an outstanding design and neither Rolls-Royce nor Bentley have since matched the timeless lines.

Orchid

Orchid (pronounced awr-kid)

(1) Any terrestrial or epiphytic plant of the family Orchidaceae, often having flowers of unusual shapes and beautiful colors, specialized for pollination by certain insects and associated with of temperate and tropical regions.

(2) The flower(s) of any of these plants.

(3) A bluish to reddish purple.

1845: It was English botanist John Lindley (1799–1865) who in School Botanty (1845) coined the word orchid from the New Latin Orchideæ & Orchidaceae (Linnaeus), the plant's family name, from the Latin orchis (a kind of orchid), from the Ancient Greek orkhis (genitive orkheos) (orchid, literally "testicle") from the primitive Indo-European orghi-, the standard root for "testicle" (and related to the Avestan erezi (testicles), the Armenian orjik, the Middle Irish uirgge, the Irish uirge (testicle) and the Lithuanian erzilas (stallion).  The plant so called because of the shape of its root was said so to resemble testicles.  The earlier English (in Latin form) was orchis (1560s) and in the thirteenth century Middle English it was ballockwort (literally “testicle plant” and source of the more recent ballocks).  The extraneous -d- was added in an attempt to extract the Latin stem.  The construct was orch(is) (a plant) + -idae.  The irregular suffix –idae is the plural of a Latin transliteration of the Ancient Greek -ίδης (-ídēs), a patronymic suffix.  In Medieval writing, it was sometimes interpreted as representing instead the plural of a Latin transliteration of the Ancient Greek adjectival suffix -ειδής (-eidḗs) from εἶδος (eîdos) (appearance, resemblance).  It was adopted in 1811 at the suggestion of British entomologist William Kirby (1759-1850), to simplify and make uniform the system of French zoologist Pierre André Latreille (1762–1833) which divided insect orders into sections; in taxonomy, it’s used to form names of subclasses of plants and families of animals.  Orchid is a noun & adjective, orchidology, orchidophile, orchidelirium, orchidomania, orchidomania, orchidist & orchidologist. are nouns, orchidaceous, orchidlike & orchidean & orchideous are adjectives; the noun plural is orchids.

Lindsay Lohan in pink orchid veavage swimsuit next to potted pink orchid, Phuket, Thailand, December, 2017.  It was during this holiday the wire services reported “Lindsay Lohan bitten by snake on holiday in Thailand”; almost instantly, the grammar Nazis tweeted on X (then known as Twitter) demanding proof the snake really was on holiday; standards have fallen since the demise of sub-editors.  Ms Lohan made a full-recovery; there was no word on the fate of the (presumably non-venomous) serpent.

The standard adjectival form (of or pertaining to orchids) is orchidaceous (the comparative “more orchidaceous”, the superlative “most orchidaceous”) but orchidean & orchideous are also used, all conveying the sense of “exotic in a rare, mysterious, alluring or sensual way”.  Through no fault of its own, the Schizanthus pinnatus (butterfly flower) is known as the “poor man's orchid”, dubbed thus because although orchid-like in appearance, its colors are less dramatic and its shape less alluring.  Despite the name, Hooker's orchid is not vulgar slang for the female genitalia but the common name for the Platanthera hookeri, a perennial wildflower found in temperate regions of North America between Iowa and Newfoundland.  It was named after the English botanist William Jackson Hooker (1785–1865) who in 1841 became the first director of Kew Gardens.  The study of orchids is called orchidology and one who works in the field is an orchidologist.  One who cultivates orchids is an orchidist, many of whom are orchidophiles (orchid enthusiasts).  The most obsessive orchidophiles are orchidomaniacs (those passionate about collecting or raising orchids) afflicted with orchidomania (an obsession with orchids; enthusiasm for raising or collecting orchids).  Orchidomania was first documented in the Victorian era (1837-1901) and there were tales of intrigue, low skulduggery (and even an alleged murder) among those who wandered the planet in search or rare or unique specimens.  In medical use, there is macroorchidism (having abnormally large testes) and macroorchidism (having abnormally small testes), monorchidism (having only one testicle within the scrotum), polyorchidism (possessing more than two testes), triorchidism (possessing three testes) and cryptorchidism (having one or two undescended testicles).  The surgical procedures include orchidectomy (also as orchiectomy) (the surgical removal of one or both testes; the alternative testectomy tends to be used only when both are removed (ie in a castration)) and orchiopexy (also as orchidopexy) (the fixation of a testis (ie to rectify cryptorchidism by moving an undescended testicle into the scrotum and keeping it there)).  

Plant porn

A lovely purple orchid in vase.

The lure of the orchid seems to attract a certain sort of obsessive, drawn by the beauty of the flowers and their sensual fragrance, they speak of its blatant sexuality and leaf slowly through the specialized catalogues which, to them, is botanical pornography.  It’s also a business and a cut-throat one, the retail value of the trade estimated at US$9 billion annually and, with some of the natural habitats under threat, the rarest are becoming more expensive.  Governments and quangos too have become involved, imposing regulations and limits on harvesting, the Geneva-based CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora) rumored to be threatening to seek the power to raid even the private greenhouses of amateur collectors who may have violated their rules.  The idea of squads of international bureaucrats, escorted by local police, turning up outside the potting shed and demanding to inspect plants may sound Kafkaesque but lawyers have warned there are international treaties that, if ratified and recognized in domestic law, might permit exactly that.  It's of particular interest in countries with a federal constitutional arrangement in which sub-national governments (states & provinces etc) guarantee certain protection.  In those systems, (1) international treaties are sometimes entered into by national governments which tend to be vested with the head of power encompassing foreign affairs and (2) federal constitutions usually provide that when any conflict exists between national and sub-national laws, the former shall prevail.

A blue orchid.

More than just about any other (non-narcotic) plants, orchids seem to exert on people an attraction beyond what may be said to be a “normal” interest in houseplants.  Papers have been written exploring the reasons for this and the consensus seems to be there are six factors which contribute most to the interest becoming obsessive: (1) The technical challenge.  Removed from their very specific natural environment, orchids can be difficult to grow, light, humidity, irrigation and temperature all critical and the combination letting one orchid flourish may kill another.  They can take a long time to flower and for the obsessive, this builds anticipation so when finally a bloom finally appears, there’s a feeling of real achievement.  (2) Beauty.  The almost “sexual” attractiveness of orchids shouldn’t be overstated but they certainly don’t look like “typical” flowers, some mimicking insects, animals, or even faces.  This can of course be an adaptation to attract pollinators but the beauty is undeniable.  (3) The diversity.  With over 25,000 species identified thus far (and many more hybrids), Orchidaceae is one of the largest plant families on Earth; for collectors, such variety is a magnet because there is always some new color, shape or species to hunt (and, these days, post on Instagram). (4) Community and culture.  Orchid societies and clubs are vibrant and create strong social bonds (although there are also factions that are highly competitive).  (5) Rarity.  The most prized orchids genuinely are rare and, for collectors of anything (coins, stamps, Ferraris etc) there is prestige and social status in ownership.  (6) Fragrance.  Lurking behind the stunning visual appeal, some orchids (and not necessarily the most colourful) have complex fragrances (from sweet to spicy) and one attraction may be they remind many of chocolate, another substance known to attract obsessives.

A Lindsay Lohan selfie with pink and white orchid, October, 2014.

Useful introductions to the weird world of the orchid-obsessed include The Orchid Thief (2000) by Susan Orlean (b 1955), Orchid:A Cultural History (2016) by Jim Endersby (b 1972) and Orchid Fever: A Horticultural Tale of Love, Lust, and Lunacy (2000) by Eric Hansen (b 1948).  Photographs can only hint at their sensual beauty but the obsessed differ on the best way to experience orchids, some saying nothing compares to their natural environment while others like to mix with them en masse, in a humid hothouse with sufficient air-flow to make them happy and permit the scent of the flowers to waft about.   

Bibliosmia

Bibliosmia (pronounced bib-lee-oz-mee-ah)

(1) The pleasant aroma issuing from (usually older) books.

(2) The smell of books, pleasing or not (contested).

2014: A compound word, the construct being biblio- + -osmia, bibliosmia was a neologism coined by English academic Dr Oliver Tearle and released into the wild in a (since deleted) tweet on X (then called Twitter) on 24 February 2014; the original definition was “the act of smelling books”.  Biblio was (via an uncertain path) from the Ancient Greek βιβλίον (biblíon) (small book) which originally was a diminutive of βίβλος (bíblos) (book), from βύβλος (búblos) (papyrus) (the name from the ancient Phoenician city of Byblos, which manufactured and exported papyrus to be used as writing material).  In Esperanto (the most widely used of the IALs (international auxiliary language), construction of which began late in the nineteenth century) Biblio meant “Bible” and thus was always capitalized.  The constructed suffix –(o)smia was from the Latin osmia, nominative, accusative & vocative plural of osmium, from the Ancient Greek ὀσμή (osmḗ), (stench, stink), referring to the smell of its tetroxides (any oxide containing four oxygen atoms in each molecule).  Deconstructed, bibliosmia translates as “booksmell” which sounds less than compelling and is an indication why Dr Tearle turned to Ancient Greek for a veneer of linguistic respectability.  He risked the wrath of the purists who don’t approve of mixing Greek with Latin when forming neologisms but doubtless would note the constructed suffix came ultimately from the Greek.  Bibliosmia is a noun.  Because it remains a neologism not yet acknowledged even by descriptive dictionaries (ie those which document language as it’s used rather than listing “standard words”), there are no derive forms but plausibly some could be constructed as needed including:

Bibliosmiaphile: One who loves the smell of old books (or all books if one accepts the more recent, wider definition of bibliosmia).

Bibliosmiaphilia: The love of the smell of books.

Bibliosmiaphobia: An aversion to the smell of books which really would be a thing because many have heightened sensitivity to odors; theis neen not have anything to do with a dislike of books.

Bibliosmic: The adjectival form.

Bibliosmatous: Another adjectival form.

Bibliosmiac: A noun which could be used of those with the predilection (or re-purposed as an adjective).

Dr Tearle is a lecturer in English at Loughborough University in the English county of Leicestershire and curates the blog Interesting Literature: A Library of Literary Interestingness.  His neologism bibliosmia has (to a small but appreciative audience) proved a popular addition to the tongue but bibliophiles are a tough crowd to please and there has been only restrained enthusiasm for his offering colygraphia (writer's block).  The construct of colygraphia was coly- +. graphia.  Coly- (which is used also as “cœly-”) was not a standard Greek prefix; it was a phonetic constructed from the Ancient Greek κολύω (kolýō) (I hinder, prevent, obstruct, forbid) which was related to κόλυσις (kólysis) (hindrance, prevention).  The suffix -graphia (which Latin picked up as –graphia) was from the Ancient Greek –γραφία, from the noun γραφή (graphḗ) (writing, drawing, description, or representation) from the root verb γράφω (gráphō) (to write, to draw, to inscribe).

Noted bibliosmiaphile Lindsay Lohan with books.

The different fates of bibliosmia (which has been embraced) and colygraphia (which has been ignored except by sites listing it as a word which has been ignored) illustrate how words are little different from memes or pop songs: some catch on and some don’t.  Bibliosmia had the advantage of being a word which evoked in many a fond memory and when defined, probably summoned in the senses a memory of such a smell (even one imagined) and smell is a powerful trigger.  By contrast, for most, “writer’s block” wouldn’t have a positive association.  The book fiends might have been impressed more by a construct like laudagraphia or porlocgraphia (allusions to Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s (1772-1834) now discounted excuse for bouts of writer’s block) and while neither exactly stick to the conventions of word construction, the respectability of the literary connection will be compensation.

Aroma Retail explains the chemistry of the smell of books, old & new.

It’s the interaction of chemical processes over time which lends old books the characteristic smell so many seem genuinely to enjoy.  Because there are regional and historic variations in the ways books have been produced, the fragrances which waft from the leaves can vary and this is something subject also to the environment in which the volumes are stored (temperature, light, air quality, humidity etc).  Because books contain a mix (which as technology evolved became more complex) of VOCs (volatile organic compounds), as materials (paper, ink, binding adhesives) fragment and degrade, tiny particles of solids are separated and microscopic volumes of gas are trapped; when a book is opened, some of these fragments some of the gas is released, propelled into the surrounding atmosphere by the pressure created by the movement of the pages.  Mildew or mold (found especially where storage conditions are less than ideal (especially regarding exposure to moisture)) can contribute their own musty or earthy odor but mostly it’s a product of slow chemical decomposition and can be thought a kind of olfactory record of time, materials, and conditions.  The mechanical processes which produce the scent includes:

(1) Lignin breakdown. Lignin is a natural polymer in wood pulp and was once commonly used in the production of paper; as it degrades, it produces vanillin (the same compound that gives vanilla its smell), along with phenols and other aromatic compounds.  Among the most significant of the compounds contributing to the palette of “old book smells” are toluene which produces sweet aromas & furfural which adds almond and coffee overtones.  Combined with the vanilla-like emanations from vanillin, what emerges is a sweet aroma and this is part of the appeal, our fondness for the sweet pre-dating even the emergence of the human species and related to our eternal quest for fat, salt & sugar.

(2) Cellulose degradation: Paper is composed largely of cellulose and this breaks down into compounds like furfural and acetaldehyde (both of which contribute to sweet, almond-like or grassy smells).

(3) Acetic and other acids: These give off a slightly vinegar-like tang, something exacerbated by being stored in places with high humidity.

(4) Binding glues and leather: Before the development of modern, mass-produced synthetics, most glues were animal-based (the origin of the nickname “glue factory” for the knackeries where “slow racehorses” were sent for “processing”) and these typically, over time (and again influenced by environmental conditions) released a musty or slightly sweet odor.  Leather bindings contribute aldehydes and other organic compounds, each with a distinctive scent.

Bibliosmia (n.) The smell and aroma of old or good books (2022) by Kendaric Imahso & Mirana Imahso.  A journal of 110 pages, it's described as a Reading Log, Bookworm Journal, Book Review, Book Lovers Organizer & Bibliophile’s Logbook Paperback.

This is the stuff which people smell and what aficionados call bibliosmia.  As a technical point, although there’s doubtlessly much overlap, not all bibliophiles are bibliosmists.  A bibliophile can be either (1) one who loves books or (2) one who collects books and among the latter, there are many who are interested not at all in the content, focused instead on things rarity, condition (dust jackets a fetish), publication date (first editions much sought), the presence of the author’s signature, perhaps with an inscription (dedicated ideally to someone famous or infamous) and details of construction (hardback; leather bound etc).  While there are collectors who cherish both the object and the text within, many are essentially just traders for whom the value of a book lies in the profits to be made.  Almost all probably notice the odours (there is “new book smell” and “old book smell”) but only some truly relish the experience.

Amorphous Antique Book Perfume Oil. 

Conceptually, oils and sprays which provide an "old book" or "book shop" fragrance are similar to the "leather smell" sprays now available for those with cars with vinyl upholstery.  The best of the modern vinyls are now visually indistinguishable from leather but some still long for the incomparable olfactory experience.  Those with fond memories of hours among the stacks in libraries or browsing through bookshops can at home burn Antique Book Perfume Oil in their oil burners, enhancing the reading experience. 

That experience is a construct and one valued not because of the intrinsic characteristics of the aroma(s) but because of the memories which can be triggered.  Researchers long ago determined smell is a uniquely powerful trigger of memories because of the way the brain processes olfactory information through direct and primal pathways deeply tied (hard-wired the popular if somewhat misleading term) to emotion and memory.  What the neurology community discovered was that uniquely among the five senses, smell was the only one to bypass the thalamus (the brain’s sensory “relay station”), going directly to the olfactory bulb which has intimate connections to (1) the amygdala (governing emotions) and (2) the hippocampus (memory formation).  As an evolutionary advantage, what the arrangement meant was information from a critical sensor of danger (smell) was almost immediately available to the brain’s decision-making process to (1) act upon and (2) store for future reference.  Ultimately, it meant scents can trigger emotional and autobiographical memories immediately and vividly, often before an individual identifies or describes the smell.  Many smell associations are formed in early childhood, a critical period for emotional and sensory development and the memory links remain strong because they were encoded so early in life and it’s believed much of this strength comes from smell being fully-formed long before language, meaning there early recollections remain eternally raw and unfiltered.