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Thursday, October 30, 2025

Tiger

Tiger (pronounced tahy-ger)

(1) A large, carnivorous, tawny-colored and black-striped feline, Panthera tigris, of Asia, ranging in several subspecies from India and the Malay Peninsula to Siberia.

(2) In non-technical use, the cougar, jaguar, thylacine, or other animal resembling the tiger (in wide use in southern Africa of leopards).

(3) A person of some fierceness, noted for courage or a ferocious, bloodthirsty and audacious person.

(4) In heraldry, a representation of a large mythological cat, used on a coat of arms, often with the spelling tyger or tygre (to distinguish the mythological beast from the natural tiger (also blazoned Bengal tiger), also used in heraldry).

(5) A pneumatic box or pan used in refining sugar.

(6) Any of several strong, voracious fishes, as a sand shark.

(7) Any of numerous animals with stripes similar to a tiger's.

(8) A servant in livery who rides with his master or mistress, especially a page or groom (archaic).

(9) In entomology & historic aviation, a clipping of tiger moth (in the family Arctiidae), tiger beetle or tiger butterfly (in tribe Danaini, especially subtribe Danaina).

(10) Any of the three Australian species of black-and-yellow striped dragonflies of the genus Ictinogomphus.

(11) In US, slang, someone noted for their athleticism or endurance during sexual intercourse.

(12) In southern African slang, a ten-rand note.

(13) As TIGR (pronounced as for “tiger”), the abbreviation for Treasury Investment Growth Receipts: a bond denominated in dollars and linked to US treasury bonds, the yield on which is taxed in the UK as income when it is cashed or redeemed.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English tygre & tigre, from the Old English tīgras (plural) and the Anglo-Norman tigre (plural), from the Latin tīgris, from the Ancient Greek τίγρις (tígris), from an Iranian source akin to the Old Persian tigra- (sharp, pointed) and related to the Avestan tighri & tigri (arrow) and tiγra (pointed), the reference being to the big cats “springing” on to their prey but the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) notes no application of either word (or any derivative) to the tiger is known in Zend.  It was used of “tiger-like” people since the early sixteenth century and that could be complementary or pejorative although the female form (tigress) seems only to have been used in zoology since the 1610s and was never applied to women.  The tiger's-eye (yellowish-brown quartz) was first documented in 1886.  The word “liger”, like the creature it described, was a forced mating of lion and tiger.  As a modifier, tiger is widely used including the forms: American tiger, Amur tiger, Asian Tiger, Mexican tiger, Siberian tiger, tiger barb, tiger beetle, tiger bench, tiger-lily, tiger lily, tiger's eye, tiger shark & tiger's milk.  A female tiger is a tigeress.  The alternative spellings tigre & tyger are both obsolete.  Tiger & tigerishness are nouns, tigerly, tigerish & tigerlike are adjectives and tigerishly is an adverb; the noun plural is tigers.

Lindsay Lohan (b 1986) atop tiger in Kult Magazine (Italy), January 2012, photograph by Vijat Mohindra (b 1985), makeup by Joyce Bonelli (b 1981).

In idiomatic use, a country said to have a “tiger economy” (rapid and sustained economic growth), especially if disproportionate to population or other conventional measures.  “Tiger parent” (and especially “tiger mother”) refers to a strict parenting style demanding academic excellence and obedience from children; it’s associated especially with East Asian societies.  The “tiger cheer” dates from 1845 and originated in Princeton University, based on the institution’s mascot and involved the cheerleaders calling out "Tiger" at the end of a cheer accompanied by a jump or outstretched arms.  Beyond Princeton, a “tiger cheer” is any “shriek or howl at the end of a cheer”.  The phrase "paper tiger" was apparently first used by comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976) when discussing his thoughts about the imperialist powers.  A calque of the Chinese 紙老虎/纸老虎 (zhǐlǎohǔ), it referred to an ostensibly fierce or powerful person, country or organisation without the ability to back up their words; imposing but ineffectual.  Phrases in the same vein include "sheep in wolf's clothing" and "a bark worse than their bite".  To be said to “have a tiger by the tail” suggests one has found one’s self in a situation (1) that has turned out to be much more difficult to control than one had expected and (2) difficult to extricate one’s self from, the idea being that while holding the tiger’s tail, things are not good but if one lets go, things will likely become much worse.

Men in frock coats: The “Big Four” at the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), outside the Foreign Ministry headquarters, Quai d'Orsay, Paris.  Left to right: David Lloyd George (1863–1945; UK prime-minister 1916-1922), Vittorio Orlando (1860–1952; Italian prime minister 1917-1919), Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; French prime minister 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) and Woodrow Wilson (1856–1924; US president 1913-1921).

Georges Clemenceau (1841–1929; Prime Minister of France 1906-1909 & 1917-1920) was a physician who turned to politics via journalism, a not unfamiliar trajectory for many; at a time of national crisis, he undertook his second term as premier, providing the country’s politics with the stiffness needed to endure what was by then World War I (1914-1918); he was nick-named le tigre (the tiger) in honor of his ferociously combative political demeanour.  In February 1919, while travelling from his apartment a meeting associated with the Paris Peace Conference (1919-1920), he was shot several times, his assailant an anarchist carpenter & joiner, Émile Cottin (1896-1937) and two decades on, another leader would learn carpenters can be assassins.  Le tigre was lucky, the bullets missing his vital organs although one which passed through the ribcage ending up lodged close to his heart; too close to that vital organ to risk surgery, there it remained until his death (from unrelated causes) ten years later.  Cottin’s death sentence was later commuted to a ten year sentence and he would die in battle, serving with the anarchist Durruti Column during the early days of the Spanish Civil War.  The Tiger’s response to his survival was to observe: “We have just won the most terrible war in history, yet here is a Frenchman who misses his target six out of seven times at point-blank range.  Of course this fellow must be punished for the careless use of a dangerous weapon and for poor marksmanship. I suggest that he be locked up for eight years, with intensive training in a shooting gallery.  In the circumstances, deploring the state of French marksmanship displayed a certain sangfroid.

The Sunbeam Tigers

Sunbeam Tiger, LSR run, Southport Beach, March 1926.

There have been three Sunbeam Tigers, the first illustrious, the second fondly remembered and the last so anti-climatic it’s all but forgotten.  The first was a dedicated racing car, built between 1923-1925 and, those being times when there was less specialization, it was used both in circuit racing and, most famously, in setting the world Land Speed Record (LSR).  Although aerodynamic by the standards of the time (the techniques of streamlining learned in World War I (1914-1918) military aviation applied), there was little innovation in the platform except for the engine, the nature of which ensured the Tiger’s place in history.  For Grand Prix events conducted for cars with a maximum displacement of 2.0 litres (122 cubic inches), Sunbeam had earlier built a two litre straight-six, the limitations imposed by the relatively small size being offset by the use of the then still novel double overhead camshafts (DOHC) which allowed both more efficient combustion chambers and much higher engine speeds, thereby increasing power.  It was a robust, reliable power-plant and when contemplating an attempt on the LSR, instead of developing anything new or using the then popular expedient of installing a big & powerful but heavy and low-revving aero engine, the engineers paired two of the blocks and heads on a single crankcase, creating a 75° 3,976 cm3 (243 cubic inch) V12.  When supercharged, power outputs as high as 312 hp (233 kW) were registered.

Sunbeam Tiger in 1990.

Deteriorating weather conditions meant there wasn’t time even to paint the bodywork before the Tiger was rushed to the banked circuit at Brooklands for testing in September 1925 where performance exceeded expectations.  Over the winter, further refinements were made including a coat of most un-British bright red paint and it was in this color (and thus nick-named “Ladybird”) it was in March 1926 taken to the flat, hard sands of Southport Beach where duly it raised the LSR mark to 152.33 mph (245.15 km/h).  That was broken within a year but the Tiger still holds the record as the smallest displacement ICE (internal combustion engine) ever to hold the LSR and a century on, it’s a distinction likely to be retained forever.  After the run on the beach, it returned to the circuits.  A sister car was built and named Tigress; fitted with one of the big Napier Lion W12 aero engines, it still competes in historic competition but the Tiger is now a museum piece although, after 65 years, it did have a final fling when in 1990 it made one last run and this time set a mark of 159 mph (256 km/h).











Sunbeam Alpine (1959-1668) with the original tail fins: 1961 (left) and 1963 (right).  When in late 1958 the design was approved by the Rootes board, tail fins were fashionable but the moment passed and with the release of the Series IV in 1964, they were pruned.

Although successful in competition and the manufacturer of some much admired road cars, financial stability for Sunbeam was marginal for most of the 1920s and the Great Depression of the early 1930s proved its nemesis, the bankrupt company in 1934 purchased by the Rootes Group which was attracted by Sunbeam’s production facilities and their well-regarded line of HD (heavy duty) chassis for bus & truck operators.  Rootes over the years used the Sunbeam name in a desultory way, the vehicles little more than “badge engineered” versions of their Hillman, Singer, Humber & Talbot lines but one aberration was the Sunbeam Alpine, a small sports car (1959-1968).  Rootes had used the Alpine name before, adopted to take advantage of the success enjoyed in the 1953 Alpine Rally but the new roadster was very different.  Although the platform was taken (unpromisingly) from a small van (noted for its robustness and reliability but little else) with the rest of the structure a mash up of components from the Rootes parts bin, as a package it worked very well and the body was modern and attractive, owing more to small Italian sports cars than the often rather agricultural British competition from MG and Triumph.  The rakish fins drew the eye (not always uncritically) but they were very much of their time, taller even than those on the Daimler SP250 released the same year.  The Alpine was also pleasingly civilized with a heater which actually worked, a soft-top which didn’t leak (at least not as often or to the same extent as some others), external door handles and wind-up windows, none of those attributes guaranteed to exist on most of the local competition.  It was also commendably quiet, conversations possible and the radio able to be listened to even at cruising speed, then something then novel in little British roadsters.

1966 Sunbeam Tiger Mark IA.

With an engine capacity initially of 1.5 litres (91 cubic inch), the Alpine was never fast although that was hardly the point and Rootes advertising included some for what was then known as the “ladies market”.  Slightly larger engines would improve things but the performance deficit was better addressed when in 1964, a version of the Alpine called the Tiger was released, this time with Ford’s then new 260 cubic inch (4.2 litre) “thinwall” Windsor V8, about to become well known from its use in both the Ford Mustang and Shelby’s Cobra, the latter based on a much-modified AC Ace.  The Windsor V8 was called a “thinwall” because genuinely it was small and light (by V8 standards) but even so it only just fitted in the Alpine’s engine bay and so tight was the fit a small hatch was installed in the firewall (under the dashboard) so a hand could reach in to change one otherwise inaccessible spark plug.  That notwithstanding, the package worked and all those who wrote test reports seemed to enjoy the Tiger, noting the effortless performance, fine brakes and (within limits) predictable handling, all in something conveniently sized.  However, even in those more tolerant times, more than one journalist observed that although the Ford V8 used was in the mildest state of tune Ford offered (the ones Carroll Shelby (1923–2012) put in the Cobra producing over 100-odd HP (75 kW) more), it was clear the classis was close to the limit of what could be deemed sensible for road use.

Despite that, in the mid 1960s there was in the US quite an appetite for cars not wholly sensible for street use and late in 1966, a revised version was released, this time with a 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) Windsor V8 and although there had been some attention to the underpinnings, it was now obvious that while still in the low-power state Ford used in station wagons and such, the 289's increased output exceeded the capability of the chassis.  For the journalists of course, that was highly entertaining and some were prepared to forgive, one cautioning only that the Tiger:

“…doesn’t take kindly to being flung around.  It’s a car with dignity as asks to be driven that way.  That doesn’t mean slowly, necessarily, but that there’s sufficient power on tap to embarrass the incautious.  But if you treat it right, respecting it for what it is, the Tiger can offer driving pleasure of a very high order.”

In the era, there were other over-powered machines which could behave worse and those able to read between the lines would know what they were getting but there may have been some who were surprised and tellingly, the Tigers were never advertised to the “ladies market” although one pink Tiger was in 1965 given as the traditional pink prize to Playboy’s PotY (Playmate of the Year).  Presumably she enjoyed it and, now painted "resale" red, the car still exists.

Jo Collins (b 1945), 1965 PotY with her 1965 Sunbeam Tiger Mark I.  All Tigers received the pruned fins, the once raked elliptical taillights assuming a vertical aspect.

The US was a receptive market for the little hot rod and one featured in the Get Smart TV series, although it’s said for technical reasons (the V8 version not having space in the engine compartment for some of the props), a re-badged Alpine was used for some scenes, the same swap effected for the 2008 film adaptation, a V8 exhaust burble dubbed where appropriate, a trick not uncommon in film-making.  Seeking a greater presence in Europe, Chrysler had first taken a stake in the Rootes Group in 1964 and assumed full control in 1967.  Although the Tiger was a low-volume line, it was profitable and Chrysler's original intention had been to to continue production of the Tiger (by 1967 powered by the 289) but with Chrysler’s 273 cubic inch (4.4 litre) LA V8 substituted.  Unfortunately, while 4.7 Ford litres filled it to the brim, 4.4 Chrysler litres overflowed; the Windsor truly was compact.  Allowing it to remain in production until the stock of already purchased Ford engines had been exhausted, Chrysler instead changed the advertising from emphasizing the “mighty Ford V8 power plant” to the vaguely ambiguousan American V-8 power train”.  Still a popular car in the collector community, so easily modified are the V8s that few survive in their original form and many have been fitted with larger Windsors, the 302 (4.9 litre) the most popular and some have persuaded even the tall-deck 351 (5.8) to fit though not without modifications.

Sunbeam Tigers: 1965 model with “Powered by Ford 260” badge (left), 1967 model with “Sunbeam V8” badge (centre) and 1965 French market model with “Alpine 260” badge (right).

It wasn’t unknown for the major US manufacturers to use components from competitors, something which happened usually either because of a technology deficit or to do with licencing.  However, they much preferred it if what was used was hidden from view (like a transmission) so Chrysler’s reticence about advertising what had (through M&A (mergers & acquisitions)) activity become one of their cars being fitted with Ford V8 was understandable.  Not only was the advertising material swiftly changed but so were the badges: “Powered by Ford 260” giving way to “Sunbeam V8” for the rest of the Tiger’s life.  Unrelated to that however was the curious case of Tigers sold in South Africa or some European markets where they were designated variously as “Alpine 260”, “Alpine 289” or “Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen.

Sunbeam Alpine 260 opposite Simca Aronde and behind Renault 16 in the Italian film Come rubare la corona d'Inghilterra (1967) by Sergio Grieco (1917–1982).  The title translates literally as “How to Steal the Crown of England” but in the English-speaking world it’s better known as Argoman the Fantastic Superman.  The film garnered mixed reviews.

The reason the “Tiger” name never made it to the largest European markets was because Panhard in France was then selling a Tigre and Messerschmitt in the FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990), offered a Tiger.  The German Tiger can be visualized as something like the cockpit of a World War II (1939-1945) Messerschmitt Bf-109 fighter aircraft fitted with four wheels and a 500 cm3 engine; it was as entertaining as it sounds.  Apparently on advice from Rootes’ French distributers (Société des Automobiles Simca), it was decided just to use the Alpine name and the car thus was advertised in France, Germany Austria & Switzerland variously as the “Alpine 260” or “Alpine V8”, the latter making marketing sense in countries not used to cubic inches as a measure although the imperial measure may have been used to emphasize the US connection, Detroit's V8s deservedly enjoying a reputation for smoothness, power and reliability.  However, in places such as Sweden and Monaco where there was no concern with violating trademark law, the “Tiger” name was used, as it was for vehicles ordered by US citizens for delivery in Europe.  Typically these were armed forces personnel able to buy through the military’s PX (Post Exchange) stores and they enjoyed the benefit at the end of their deployment of the car being shipped to the US at no cost.  Volumes into Europe were always low and the sketchy records (assembled by Tiger owners clubs) suggest as few as seven Mark II models were exported to Europe, three of which went to France and by then the operation known as "Rootes Motors Overseas Ltd" had for all purposes switched their advertising to “Sunbeam Alpine V8”.

On the silver screen, with back projection.  Cary Grant (1904–1986, left) with (pre-princess) Grace Kelly (1929–1982; Princess Consort of Monaco 1956-1982, right) behind the wheel of 1953 Mark I Sunbeam Alpine (in Sapphire Blue) in To Catch a Thief (1955).

In 1955 Sunbeam did release an Alpine Mark III but there was never a Mark II, “skipping numbers” something not uncommon in aircraft and software but rare in automobiles.  For students of technology, the long scene of her driving (appearing to be filmed through the windscreen) is an example of the RPT (rear projection technique) used before CGI (computer-generated imagery) became possible.  While much of the film was shot on-location in Europe, the Alpine was shipped to the US for some of her driving scenes because only in Hollywood were there the big studios outfitted with the rear-projection equipment able to emulate 360o settings.  RPT obviously created new possibilities for cinematographers but for directors there was the advantage of the driver not being compelled to “keep their eyes on the road”, however bad an example this may have set for impressionable audiences.  In the age of CGI, the RPT looks obviously fake but it was at the time state-of-the-art.

When first pondering the name to be used in Europe, within Rootes there may anyway have been awareness of the French manufacturer Peugeot in 1964 forcing Porsche to rename its new 901 to 911 (something which worked out OK) on the basis of the argument they had an “exclusive right in France” to sell cars with three numeral designation in France when the middle digit was a “0” (zero).  That seems dubious given Mercedes-Benz had for years been selling 200s & 300s and was about to release the 600 but the EEC (the European Economic Community, the Zollverein which would evolve into the EU (European Union)) wasn’t at the time governed by the “give way to the Germans” rule which would come to characterize the EU (European Union) so defer Porsche did.  Rootes was thus wise to avoid the inevitable C&D (cease and desist letter) which may have been anticipated.

1965 PotY Jo Collins with her pink Tiger.

Stranger however is that Tigers sold in France were called “Alpine 260” despite (1) the French manufacturer Alpine having first sold cars there in 1954 and (2) the “260” being a reference to the V8 displacement in cubic inches (cid), imperial measurements not used in wholly metric France (where a 4.2 (litre) badge might have been expected).  Sunbeam was able to use the Alpine name because their original version (the one driven by Grace Kelly) had first been sold in France in 1953, thus pre-dating the French venture Automobiles Alpine, the corporate identity of which wasn’t formalized until 1955.

1965 French market Sunbeam Alpine 260 with after-market 14" Minilite wheels.

So the Alpine name could in France be used, despite the existence since 1954 of the sports cars produced by Dieppe-based Automobiles Alpine, presumably on the basis of the corporation’s prior use.  Whether the decision to append an imperial “260” rather than a more localized 4.2 was the British adding insult to injury isn’t known.  While that may sound improbably petty, that’s a quality not absent either in international relations or commerce and not only were London and Paris then squabbling over whether the Anglo-French SST (supersonic transport) airliner should be called “Concorde” or the anglicized “Concord”, in 1963 Charles de Gaulle (1890-1970; President of France 1959-1969) had vetoed the UK’s application for membership of the EEC (European Economic Community, the Zollverein which (for better and worse) eveolved into the modern-day EU (European Union).  For that last diplomatic setback, the British may have had themselves to blame because when in 1940 they offered de Gaulle sanctuary in London after the fall of France, the Foreign Office allocated him offices on Waterloo Place and overlooking Trafalgar Square.  A sensitive soul, neither Le Général nor Le Président ever forgave or forgot a slight.

Carroll Shelby, Sunbeam publicity shot, 1964.

Between April 1964 and August 3763 Mark I Tigers were built.  The 2706 “Mark IA” models which followed between August 1965 and February 1966 were based on the Alpine Series V which had a number of detail changes (most obviously the doors, hood (bonnet) and truck (boot) lid having sharper corners and a vinyl rather than metal top boot for the folding soft-top); while these now universally are listed as “Mark IAs”, that was never an official factory designation.  The first Mark IIs weren’t built until December 1966 with production lasting only until June the next year when Sunbeam’s stocks of Ford V8s was exhausted and just 536 (although 633 is oft-quoted) were made.  Although there were detail differences between the Mark IA and Mark II, the fundamental change was the use of the 289 cubic inch (4.7 litre) engine and all but a few dozen were exported to the US.

Tigerish: Lindsay Lohan imagined in cara gata (cat face) by Shijing Peng.  

Carrol Shelby invoiced Rootes US$10,000 to develop the original Tiger prototype and had expected to gain the contract for production on the same basis as Shelby American's arrangement with AC to produce the Cobra (ie he'd receive engineless cars into which he'd insert the V8s) but the process instead went the other way with Sunbeam importing the engines, contracting final assembly to Jensen.  Shelby instead received a small commission for each Tiger sold and appeared in some of the early marketing material.  He understood that despite (on paper) being superficially similar, the Tiger was a very different machine to the Cobra and, aimed at different markets, the two were really not competitors.  Amusingly, Shelby's US10,000 fee was paid in a "back-channel deal", the funds coming from Rootes' US advertising budget rather than the engineering department's allocation.  That slight of hand was necessary because it was known to all the company's conservative chairman, Lord Rootes (1894–1964), would never have approved such a project.  He changed his mind after test-driving the prototype and ordered immediate production, living long enough to see it enjoy success.      

1972 Hillman Avenger Tiger Mark 2.  The early Avengers are remembered for their distinctive "boomerang (or hockey stick)" tail-lamps, a style later used by Mazda for the Cosmo (1975-1981 and sold in some markets as the RX-5).  It's believed the rear spoiler was not wind tunnel tested.

While not quite the sublime to the ridiculous, the third and final Tiger certainly lacked the luster of its predecessors and was sold as a Hillman rather than a Sunbeam, the old Rootes group now owned by Chrysler.  Based on the Hillman Avenger (1970-1981), a competent if unexciting family car, the Avenger Tiger was initially a one-off built for motor shows (they used to be a thing) but such was the reaction a production run was arranged and, based on the Avenger GT, it was a genuine improvement, fitted with dual Weber carburetors on a high-compression cylinder head with larger valves and improved porting.  The power increase was welcome but wasn’t so dramatic as to demand any modification of the GT’s suspension beyond a slight stiffening of the springs.  On the road, the well-sorted RWD (rear wheel drive) dynamics meant it was good to drive and the performance was a notch above the competition at the same price point although Chrysler never devoted the resources to develop it into a machine which could have been competitive with Ford’s Escort in racing and rallying.  Despite that, when sold in the US as the Plymouth Cricket (1971-1972) the car won the demanding “Press on Regardless” rally although that wasn't enough to convince many Americans to buy the thing.  The first run of 200-odd Tigers early in 1972 were all in “Sundance” yellow with a black stripe (and in case that was too subtle, a “Tiger” decal adorned the rear quarter panels) but “Wardance” red was an option when an additional batch of 400 was made to meet demand.

Tuesday, March 4, 2025

Decapitate

Decapitate (pronounced dih-kap-i-teyt)

(1) To cut off the head; to behead.

(2) Figuratively, to oust or destroy the leadership or ruling body of a government, military formation, criminal organization etc.

1605–1615: From the fourteenth century French décapiter, from the Late Latin dēcapitātus, past participle of dēcapitāre, the construct being - + capit- (stem of caput (head), genitive capitis), from the Proto-Italic kaput, from the Proto-Indo-European káput- (head) + -ātus.  The Latin prefix dē- (off) was from the preposition (of, from); the Old English æf- was a similar prefix.  The Latin suffix -ātus was from the Proto-Italic -ātos, from the primitive Indo-European -ehtos.  It’s regarded as a "pseudo-participle" and perhaps related to –tus although though similar formations in other Indo-European languages indicate it was distinct from it already in early Indo-European times.  It was cognate with the Proto-Slavic –atъ and the Proto-Germanic -ōdaz (the English form being -ed (having).  The feminine form was –āta, the neuter –ātum and it was used to form adjectives from nouns indicating the possession of a thing or a quality.  The English suffix -ate was a word-forming element used in forming nouns from Latin words ending in -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as estate, primate & senate).  Those that came to English via French often began with -at, but an -e was added in the fifteenth century or later to indicate the long vowel.  It can also mark adjectives formed from Latin perfect passive participle suffixes of first conjugation verbs -ātus, -āta, & -ātum (such as desolate, moderate & separate).  Again, often they were adopted in Middle English with an –at suffix, the -e appended after circa 1400; a doublet of –ee.  Decapitate, decapitated & decapitating are verbs, decapitation & decapitator are nouns; the common noun plural is decapitations.

Lindsay Lohan gardening with a lopper in her gloved hands, decapitation a less demanding path to destruction than deracination, New York City, May, 2015.  She appears to be relishing the task.

As a military strategy, the idea of decapitation is as old as warfare and based on the effective “cut the head off the snake”.  The technique of decapitation is to identify the leadership (command and control) of whatever structure or formation is hostile and focus available resources on that target.  Once the leadership has been eliminated, the effectiveness of the rest of the structure should be reduced and the idea is applied also in cyber warfare although in that field, target identification can be more difficult.  The military’s decapitation strategy is used by many included law enforcement bodies and can to some extent be applied in just about any form of interaction which involves conflicting interests.  The common English synonym is behead and that word may seem strange because it means “to take off the head” where the English word bejewel means “to put on the jewels”.  It’s because of the strange and shifting prefix "be-".  Behead was from the Middle English beheden, bihefden & biheveden, from the Old English behēafdian (to behead).  The prefix be- however evolved from its use in Old English.  In modern use it’s from the Middle English be- & bi-, from the Old English be- (off, away), from the Proto-Germanic bi- (be-), from the Proto-Germanic bi (near, by), the ultimate root the primitive Indo-European hepi (at, near) and cognate be- in the Saterland Frisian, the West Frisian, the Dutch, the German & Low German and the Swedish.  When the ancestors of behead were formed, the prefix be- was appended to create the sense of “off; away” but over the centuries it’s also invested the meanings “around; about” (eg bestir), “about, regarding, concerning” (eg bemoan), “on, upon, at, to, in contact with something” (eg behold), “as an intensifier” (eg besotted), “forming verbs derived from nouns or adjectives, usually with the sense of "to make, become, or cause to be" (eg befriend) & "adorned with something" (eg bejewel)).

A less common synonym is decollate, from the Latin decollare (to behead) and there’s also the curious adjective decapitable which (literally “able or fit to be decapitated”) presumably is entirely synonymous with “someone whose head has not been cut off” though not actually with someone alive, some corpses during the French Revolution being carted off to be guillotined, the symbolism of the seemingly superfluous apparently said to have been greeted by the mob "with a cheer".  Just as pleasing though less bloody were the Citroën cabriolets crafted between 1958-1974 by French coachbuilder Henri Chapron (1886-1978).

1971 Citroën DS21 Décapotable Usine with non-standard interior including bespoke headrests in the style used on some Jensen Interceptors.

Produced between 1955-1975, the sleek Citroën DS must have seemed something from science fiction to those accustomed to what was plying the roads outside but although it soon came to be regarded as something quintessentially French, the DS was actually designed by an Italian.  In this it was similar to French fries (invented in Belgium) and Nicolas Sarközy (b 1955; President of France 2007-2012), who first appeared on the planet the same year as the shapely DS and he was actually from here and there.  It was offered as the DS and the lower priced ID, the names a play on words, DS in French pronounced déesse (goddess) and ID idée (idea).  The goddess nickname caught on though idea never did, presumably because visually the two were so similar with differences limited mostly to the ID's simplified mechanical specification.

Citroën Cabriolet d'Usine production count, 1960-1971 (DWs included in the DS totals).

Henri Chapron had attended the Paris Auto Salon when the DS made its debut and while Citroën had planned to offer a cabriolet, little had been done beyond some conceptual drawings and development resources were instead devoted to higher-volume variants, the ID (a less powerful DS with simplified mechanicals and less elaborate interior appointments) which would be released in 1957 and the Break (a station wagon marketed variously the Safari, Break, Familiale or Wagon), announced the next year.  Chapron claims it took him only a glance at the DS in display for him instantly to visualise the form his cabriolet would take but creating one proved difficult because such was the demand Citroën declined to supply a partially complete platform, compelling the coach-builder to secure a complete car from a dealer willing (on an undisclosed basis) to “bump” his name up the waiting list while he worked on the blueprints.  It wasn’t until 1958 Carrosserie Chapron presented their first DS cabriolet (dubbed La Croisette and named after the emblematic costal boulevard of Cannes) and while initially it wasn’t approved by the factory (meaning Chapron had to continue his back-channel arrangement with dealers), it was obvious to Citroën’s engineers that they’d been presented with a shortcut to production.  Accordingly, Chapron designed a DS cabriolet suited to series production (as opposed to his bespoke creations) and that meant using the longer wheelbase platform of the Break, chosen because it was structurally enhanced to cope with the heavier load rating.  Beginning in 1960, these (in ID, DW & DS versions) were the approved Cabriolets d'Usine, distributed until 1971 through Citroën’s dealer network, complete with a the commercially vital factory warranty.

1964 Citroën DW19 Décapotable Usine.  For statistical purposes the DWs are included in the DS production count)

The DS and ID are well documented in the model's history but there was also the more obscure DW, built at Citroën's UK manufacturing plant in the Berkshire town Slough which sits in the Thames Valley, some 20 miles west of London.  The facility was opened in February 1926 as part of the Slough Trading Estate (created just after World War I (1914-1918)) which was an early example of an industrial park, the place having the advantage of having the required infrastructure because it had been constructed by the government for wartime production and maintenance activities.  Citroën was one of the first companies to establish an operation on the site, overseas assembly prompted by the UK government's imposition of tariffs (33.3% on imported vehicles, excluding commercial vehicles) and the move had the added advantage of the right-hand-drive (RHD) cars being able to be exported throughout the British Empire under the “Commonwealth Preference”, arrangements (a low-tariff scheme), elements of which would endure as a final relic of the chimera of imperial free trade until 1973 when the UK joined the EEC (the multi-national European Economic Community, a "common market" which would expand (in numbers and scope) to become the modern EU (European Union) which continues to exist in a twilight zone between a Zollverein and a confederation).  Despite the end of Commonwealth preferences however, the Australian outposts of Chrysler (until 1976) and Ford (until 1984) continued to supply a trickle of what were by UK standards large sedans and station wagons.  Then standard-size family cars in Australia (and compacts in the US), offering much space and usually fitted with torquey V8 engines, they found a some popularity among those towing things like horse floats.

Slough's contribution to footnotes in Citroën's history: The Bijou (1959-1964, left) and the 2CV (1948-1990, right) on which it was based.  The 2CV designation meant deux chevaux (literally "two horses"), a reference to "two taxable horsepower (HP)") although the output of most varied between 12-28 (net) HP which was modest but the 2CV proved a remarkably capable machine and between 1958-1971 the factory built 694 4WD (four-wheel-drive) "Sahara" variants, the configuration achieved with two engines and gearboxes, the rear-mounted unit driving the rear wheels.  It remains one of the most commercially successful twin-engined cars.    

Beginning with the Type A in 1926 and ending with a final DS in 1965, some 57,000 Citroëns were assembled at Slough including the Type C, ‘6’, ‘10’, and ‘Big Twelve’ (all, like the Type A, being RWD (rear-wheel-drive) and four & six cylinder versions of the FWD (front-wheel-drive) Traction Avant.  On a smaller scale, there were runs also of the 2CV, a 2CV pick-up truck the Admiralty ordered for use in ports and, most bizarrely, the fiberglass bodied, 2CV-based Bijou which was unique to the UK.  The Bijou was an attempt to make the 2CV more acceptable to British tastes by replacing the distinctive, utilitarian coachwork of the original with something more contemporary.  It was essentially the same approach Volkswagen would take with its Type 3 & Type 4 (the 411/412) which used the familiar Type 1 (Beetle) underpinnings beneath what was then closer to mainstream styling.  While the Type 3 was a success, the Type 4 floundered and British consumers never much took to the little Bijou, barely 200 sold in half a decade of production.  The Slough ID, DW & DS variants differed in detail from the French-built cars, featuring 12-volt Lucas electrics, smaller diameter headlights, ribbed metal flashings for the B & C pillars, a black-painted front apron, chromed brass cornets with protruding Lucas indicators and a different front bumper bar, necessitated by local laws specifying how licence plates were to be mounted.  Being England in the 1960s, there were also more chrome-plated fittings with slightly different lights used at the rear.  Interestingly, given the class-consciousness of the era, externally, a DW was indistinguishable from the more expensive DS and both differed from the French versions in that all three ashtrays (one in the front and two in the front seat-backs) were large enough to accommodate a pipe (the engineers reputedly testing the devices with their own Stanwells and Dunhills).

1964 Citroën DW19 Décapotable Usine.

Unlike similar operations, which in decades to come would appear world-wide, the Slough Citroëns were not assembled from CKD (completely knocked down) kits which needed only local labor to bolt them together but used a mix of imported parts and locally produced components.  The import tariff was avoided if the “local content” (labor and domestically produced (although those sourced from elsewhere in the Commonwealth could qualify) parts) reached a certain threshold (measured by the total P&L (parts & labor) value in local currency); it was an approach many governments would follow and it remains popular today as a means of encouraging (and protecting) local industries and creating employment.  People able to find jobs in places like Slough would have been pleased but for those whose background meant they were less concerned with something as tiresome as paid-employment, the noise and dirt of factories seemed just a scar upon the “green and pleasant land” of William Blake (1757–1827).  In his poem Slough (1937), Sir John Betjeman (1906–1984; Poet Laureate 1972-1984), perhaps recalling Stanley Baldwin's (1867–1947; UK prime-minister 1923-1924, 1924-1929 & 1935-1937) “The bomber will always get through” speech (1932) welcomed the thought, writing:  Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!  It isn’t fit for humans now”  Within half a decade, the Luftwaffe would grant his wish.  Poets should be careful what they wish for although these days most seem to wish for little more than state subsidies and grants from literature boards, institutions anxious to ensure a slither of tax revenue is devoted to creating an over-supply where there's little demand.

1964 Citroën DW19 Décapotable Usine with the timber veneer dashboard Carrosserie Chapron often would fit although they weren't used on the Slough-built DWs.  Note the ashtray in which could sit the bowls of two pipes.

During World War II (1939-1945), the Slough plant was requisitioned for military use and some 23,000 CMP (Canadian Military Pattern) trucks were built, civilian production resuming in 1946.  After 1955, Slough built both the ID and DS, both with the traditional English leather trim and a wooden veneer dashboard appeared on the ID, a touch which some critics claimed was jarring among the otherwise modernist ambiance but the appeal was real because some French distributors imported and fitted the Slough dashboard parts for owners who liked the look.  In 1964, a unique Slough-built DW was created fill the gap between the ID & DS, the DW using the DS's more powerful engine, power steering and braking system but fitted with a conventional manual clutch and gearbox.  The timber veneers were not fitted as standard to the DWs but many survivors do feature them so either dealers at the time offered the option or the slabs have been retro-fitted and although the DW’s configuration may seem a curiosity, it must have been a “sweet spot” for the UK market because over the period its sales exceeded those of the ID & DS combined (DW19: 365, ID19: 135. DS19: 109).  A niche within a niche, the DW remained in production only until September 1964 when the range gained the new 1,985 cm3 engine, marked by the designation changing to DS19 DL, only 22 of which left the line before the 2,175 cm3 DS21 was introduced and made available with both a manual gearbox and the hydraulic automatic. Outside of the UK, the DW was named DS19M, a moniker that rationally made more sense because the only notable difference between the DW and the DS was the fitment of a manual gearbox and foot-operated clutch.  Citroën assembly in Slough ended in February 1965 and although the factory initially retained the plant as a marketing, service & distribution centre, in 1974 these operations were moved to other premises and the buildings were taken over by Mars Confectionery.  Today, no trace remains of Citroën's presence in Slough.

1963 Citroën Le Dandy & 1964 Citroën Palm Beach by Carrosserie Chapron.

Citroën DS by Carrosserie Chapron production count 1958-1974

Demand was higher at a lower price-point, as Citroën's 1325 cabriolets indicate but Carrosserie Chapron until 1974 maintained output of his more exclusive and expensive lines although by the late 1960s, output, never high, had slowed to a trickle.  Chapron’s originals varied in detail and the most distinguishing difference between the flavors was in the rear coachwork, the more intricate being those with the "squared-off" (sometimes called "finned" or "fin-tailed") look, a trick Mercedes-Benz had in 1957 adopted to modernize the 300d (W189, 1957-1963, the so called "Adenauer Mercedes", named after Konrad Adenauer (1876–1967; chancellor of the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany (the old West Germany) 1949-1963) who used several of the W186 (300, 300b, 300c, 1951-1957) & 300s models as his official state cars).  Almost all Chapron's customized DS models were built to special order between under the model names La Croisette, Le Paris, Le Caddy, Le Dandy, Concorde, Palm BeachLe Léman, Majesty, & Lorraine; all together, 287 of these were delivered and reputedly, no two were exactly alike.

Citroën Concorde coupés by Chapron: 1962 DS 19 (left) and 1965 DS 21 (right).  The DS 21 is one of six second series cars, distinguished by their “squared-off” rear wing treatment and includes almost all the luxury options Chapron had on their list including electric windows, leather trim, the Jaeger instrument cluster, a Radiomatic FM radio with automatic Hirschmann antenna, the Robergel wire wheel covers and the Marchal auxiliary headlights.

Alongside the higher-volume Cabriolets d'Usine, Carrosserie Chapron continued to produce much more expensive décapotables (the Le Caddy and Palm Beach cabriolets) as well as limousines (the Majesty) and coupés, the most numerous of the latter being Le Dandy, some 50 of which were completed between 1960-1968.  More exclusive still was another variation of the coupé coachwork, the Concorde with a more spacious cabin notably for the greater headroom it afforded the rear passengers.  Only 38 were built over five years and at the time they cost as much as the most expensive Cadillac 75 Limousine.

Bossaert's Citroën DS19-based GT 19 (1959-1964); the Marchal auxiliary headlights a later addition (top).

Others also built DS coupés & convertibles.  Between 1959-1964 Belgium-born Hector Bossaert produced more than a dozen DS coupés and what distinguished his was a platform shortened by 470 mm (18½ inches) and the use of a notchback roof-line.  Dubbed the Bossaert GT 19, the frontal styling was unchanged although curiously, the Citroën chevrons on the rear pillars were rotated by 90° (ie becoming directional arrows); apart from the GT 19 Bossaert script on the boot lid (trunk lid), they are the vehicle’s only external identification.  Opinion remains divided about the aesthetes of the short wheelbase (SWB) DSs.  While it’s conceded the Chapron coupés & cabriolets do, in terms of design theory, look “unnaturally” elongated, the lines somehow suit the machines and the word most often used is “elegant” whereas the SWB cars do seem stubby and obviously truncated although, had the originals never existed, perhaps the SWB would look more "natural".  The consensus seems to be the GT 19 was the best implementation of the SWB idea, helped also by it being 70 mm (2¾ inches) lower than the donor DS and perhaps that would be expected given the design was by the Italian Pietro Frua (1913-1983).  Bossaert also increased the power.  Although the hydro-pneumatic suspension and slippery aerodynamics made the DS a fine high-speed cruiser, the 1.9 litre (117 cubic inch) four cylinder engine was ancient and inclined to be agricultural if pushed; acceleration was not sparking.  Bossaert thus offered “tuning packages” which included the usual methods: bigger carburetors & valves, and more aggressive camshaft profile and a higher compression ratio, all of which transformed the performance from “mediocre” to “about average”.

The one-off Bossaert GT 19 convertible (left) and the one off 1966 Citroën DS21-based Bossaert cabriolet (right).

Demand was limited by the price; a GT 19 cost more than double that of a DS and the conversion was more than a Jaguar so one really had to be prepared to pay for the exclusivity.  It was a common tale in the post-war years as coach-builders struggled to convince buyers to pay for their four-cylinder "specials" when larger, faster and more refined six or even eight cylinder vehicles were available from established manufacturers for so much less.  Additionally, when the Citroën management discovered someone in a garage was “hotting-up” their engines, it was made clear that would invalidate any warranty.  Most sources say only 13 were built but there were also two convertibles, one based on the GT 19 (though fitted with fared in headlights) and the other quite different, owing more to the Chapron Caddy; both remained one-offs.  Two of the GT 19 coupés and the later convertible survive.

Right-side clignotant (left) on 1974 Citroën DS23 Pallas (right).

Retaining the roof did offer designers possibilities denied after decapitation.  On the DS & ID saloons, the clignotants (turn indicators; flashers) were mounted in a housing which was styled to appear as a continuation of the roof-gutter; it was touches like that which were a hint the lines of the DS were from the drawing board of an Italian, Flaminio Bertoni (1903–1964) who, before working in industrial design in pre-war Italy, had trained as a sculptor.  Citroën seems never to have claimed the placement was a safety feature and critics of automotive styling have concluded the flourish was added as part of the avant-garde vibe.  However, the way the location enhanced their visibility attracted the interest of those advocating things needed to be done to make automobiles safer and while there were innovations in “active safety” (seat-belts, crumple zones etc), there was also the field of “passive safety” and that included visibility; at speed, reducing a driver’s reaction time by a fraction of a second can be the difference between life and death and researchers concluded having a “third brake light” at eye level did exactly that.  So compelling was the case it was under the administration of Ronald Reagan (1911-2004; US president 1981-1989 and hardly friendly to new regulations) that in 1986 the US mandated the CHMSL (centre high mount stop lamp) but because the acronym lacked a effortless pronunciation the legislated term never caught on and the devices are known variously as “centre brake light”, “eye level brake light”, “third brake light”, “high-level brake light” & “safety brake light”.  Unintentionally, Citroën may have started something though it took thirty years to realize the implications.

Coincidently, in the same year the DS debuted, Rudimentary seat-belts first appeared in production cars during the 1950s but the manufacturers must have thought the public indifferent because their few gestures were tentative such as in 1956 when Ford had offered (as an extra-cost option) a bundle of safety features called the “Lifeguard Design” package which included:

(1) Padded dashboards (to reduce head injuries).

(2) Recessed steering wheel hub (to minimize chest injuries).

(3) Seat belts (front lap belts only).

(4) Stronger door latches (preventing doors flying open in a crash).

(5) Shatter-resistant rear-view mirror (reducing injuries caused by shards of broken glass).

The standard features included (1) the Safety-Swivel Rear View Mirror, (2) the Deep-Center Steering Wheel with recessed post and bend-away spokes and (3) Double-Grip Door Latches with interlocking striker plate overlaps; Optional at additional cost were (4) Seat Belts (single kit, front or rear, color-keyed, nylon-rayon with quick one-handed adjust/release aluminium buckle)  (US$5).  There were also "bundles", always popular in Detroit.  Safety Package A consisted of a  Padded Instrument Panel & Padded Sun Visors (US$18) while Safety Package B added to that Front-Seat Lap Seat Belts (US$27).  On the 1956 Thunderbird which used a significantly different interior design, the options were (1) the Lifeguard Padded Instrument Panel (US$22.65), (2) Lifeguard Padded Sun Visors (US$9) and (3) Lifeguard Seat Belts (US$14).  Years later, internal documents would be discovered which revealed conflict within the corporation, the marketing department opposed to any mention of "safety features" because that reminded potential customers of car crashes; they would prefer they be reminded of new colors, higher power, sleek new lines and such.  So, little was done to promote the “Lifeguard Design”, public demand was subdued and the soon the option quietly was deleted from the list.

The rising death-toll and complaints from the insurance industry however meant the issue of automotive safety re-surfaced in the 1960s and the publication by lawyer Ralph Nadar (b 1934) of the book Unsafe at Any Speed (1965) which explored the issue played a part in triggering what proved to be decades of legislation which not even the efforts and money of Detroit's lobbyists could stop although some delays in implementation were achieved and there was the odd victory (such as the survival of the convertible and ironically, that was a matter about which Detroit was at the time mostly indifferent).  Among the delays achieved (albeit a minor and temporary victory), the matter of the CHMSL can was kicked down the road until 1986.  The executives in Detroit were (and remain) "slippery slide' or "thin end of the wedge" theorists in that they thought if they agreed to some innocuous suggestion from government then that would encourage edicts both more onerous and expensive to implement.  History proved them in that correct but the intriguing thing was that more than a decade earlier, the industry had gone beyond the the CHMSL and of its own volition offered DHMSLs (dual high mount stop lamps), one division of General Motors (GM) even on one model making the fittings standard equipment.

1970 Ford Thunderbird brochure (left) and 1972 Oldsmobile Toronado (right).

In 1969 Ford added “High-Level Taillamps, eye level warning to following drivers” to the option list for the 1970 Thunderbird.  What that described was two brake lights fitted on either side of the rear-window and being a update of a model introduced for 1967, the devices were “bolt-ons” rather than being integrated into the structure.  Because the Thunderbird was no longer available as a convertible, the option was available across the range which, uniquely in the fifth generation (1967-1971), included a four-door sedan.  As with the “Lifeguard Design” of 1956, demand was low, customers more prepared to pay for bigger engines and “dress up” options than safety features.  GM’s Oldsmobile Division solved the problem of low demand by making the DHMSLs standard equipment on the second generation Toronado (1971-1978), a big PLC (personal luxury coupe).  Being a new body, the opportunity was taken to integrate the pair into the structure and neatly they sat below the rear window.

1987 Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (left), 1989 Mercedes-Benz 560 SL (centre) and 2001 Mercedes-Benz SL 600 (right).

When in 1971 the Mercedes-Benz 350 SL (R107, 1971-1989) was introduced, it occurred to no one it would still be in production in 1989, the unplanned longevity the product of (1) an uncertainty about whether the US government would outlaw convertibles and (2) the state of Western economies being often "difficult".  The by then 15 year old roadster thus had to have a CHMSL added when the legislation came into effect and it’s tempting to suspect the project was handed to the same team responsible for making the company’s headlights and bumper  bars comply with US law, both ventures usually with ghastly results.  What they did was “bolt on” to the trunk (boot) lid a lamp which seemed to suggest the design brief had been: “make it stick out like a sore thumb”.  If so, they succeeded and while the revised model (1988-1989) used a smaller unit, it was little more than a slightly less large digit; frankly, Ford did a better job with the 1970 T-bird although, in fairness, the Germans didn’t have a fixed rear window with which to work.  When the R129 roadster (1989-2001) was developed, the opportunity was taken (al la the 1971 Oldsmobile Toronado) to integrate a CHMSL into the metal.

1989 Porsche 911 (930) Turbo Cabriolet (left) and 2004 Porsche 911 (996) Turbo Cabriolet.

In 1986, the Porsche 911 had been around longer even than the Mercedes-Benz R107.  First sold in 1964 and updated for 1974 with (US mandated) big bumpers (which the factory handled with more aplomb than their Stuttgart neighbors), in 1986 it became another example of a “bolt on” solution for the CHMSL rule but unlike the one used on the R107, on the 911 there’s a charm to the lamp sitting atop a stalk, like that of some crustaceans, molluscs, insects and stalk-eyed imaginings from SF (science fiction).  All the “bolt-ons” existed because while there is nothing difficult about the engineering of a CHMSL, many would be surprised to learn just how expensive it would have been for a manufacturer to integrate such a thing into an existing structure; a prototype or mock-up would be quick and cheap but translating that into series production would have involved a number of steps and the costs would have been considerable.  That’s why there were so many “bolt-on” CHMSLs in the late 1980s.  Interestingly, when the next 911 (964 1989-1994) was released, on the coupe’s the CHMSL was re-positioned at the top of the rear window while the cabriolets retained the stalk.  The factory persevered with this approach for a while and it was only later the unit became integrated into the rear bodywork (with many variations).  Some still prefer the look of the stalk because it's fine for something to "stick out like a sore thumb" if it's a good-looking digit.

For manufacturers and drivers alike, from the mid-1980s onward, CHMSLs became omnipresent yet despite their conspicuous visibility, were soon so unexceptional as to be in a sense unnoticed; they became just part of the orthodoxy of design language.  Researchers however remained interested in the brake light and as early as the 1970s some were advocating the introduction of front brake lights (FBL), obviously a concept difficult to test in the wild because such things were almost universally unlawful.  In test labs though their potential effectiveness could be studied by using simulators which compared a driver’s reaction time to the sight of a braking vehicle with and without FBLs and, unsurprisingly, where a warning light was present, reactions were faster and that can be of consequence in situations of potential impact at speed, a vehicle in a second travelling a considerable distance.  The sort of statistical modelling applied to try to quantify the potential benefits FBLs might deliver can be criticized but there has been more than one research project and while the details have differed, all suggested there would be a reduction in vehicle crashes and logically, that should translate into less damage and fewer deaths & injuries.  Paradoxically, were that to be realized, one direct effect would be a reduction in GDP (gross domestic product) because the economic activity generated (in industries such as medicine, car repair, funeral homes etc) wouldn’t happen although some of that would be off-set by the ongoing workforce participation by those not killed or hospitalized.

What FBLs would do is made it easier for drivers to detect another vehicle’s braking from front and side angles, making them more likely to react if a potential situation drama is thus anticipated.  Obviously red lights at the front would be a bad idea (although some service vehicles are so equipped) and clear or amber lens could be ambiguous so the usual suggestion is green, previously used only by a small number of medical personnel. There were concerns about the use of green because it was speculated there might (especially in conditions of low visibility) be potential for them to be confused with the green (Go) of traffic signals used at intersections but to assess the veracity of that may require testing in real-world conditions.

1968 Citroën DS20 Break (left) and 1958 DeSoto Firesweep Explorer Station Wagon (right).

In 1958, a station wagon version of the DS & ID was released; because of historic regional variations in terminology, in different places it was marketed as the Break (France), Safari or Estate (UK), Station Wagon (North America) and Safari or Station Wagon (Australia) but between markets there were only detail differences.  Because of the top-hinged tailgate, to mount the clignotants in the high positions used on the saloons would have been difficult so they were integrated into a vertical stack of three in a conventional location.  In style the lens and the modest “fins” in which they sat recalled the arrangement DeSoto in the US had made their signature since late 1955 although it’s unlikely the US design had much influence on what was for Citroën a pragmatic solution for a vehicle then regarded as having most appeal as a Commerciale.  The French certainly weren’t drawn to fins as macropterous as some Detroit had encouraged theirs to grow to by 1958.

Finettes: Bossaert's tail lights from the parts bin of Fiat (left) and BMC (right). 

Convertibles of course lack a roof so the clignotants couldn’t continue in their eye-catching place with topless coachwork and their placement on the DS & ID varied in accordance with how the rear coachwork was handled.  Bossaert took a conventional approach and emulated a look familiar on many European roadsters & cabriolets.  For the GT 19 the taillights (known as carrellos) came from the Fiat Pininfarina Coupé & Cabriolet (1959-1966), a vertical style which in the era appeared on a number of cars including Ferraris, Peugeots and Rovers.  For his other take on a convertible DS, Bossaert reached over the English Channel and from the BMC (British Motor Corporation) parts bin selected the units used by the Wolseley Hornet & Riley Elf (luxury versions of the Mini (1959-2000), built between 1969-1969 which, as well as the expected leather & burl walnut veneer trim, had an extended tail with distinctly brachypterous “finettes” (only Chevrolet seems to have used "finlets", applied to the foursome on the earliest (1953-1955) of the  first generation (C1 1953-1962) Corvettes The success of the Hornet & Elf in class-conscious England encouraged BMC in 1964 to go even more up-market and have their in-house coach-builder Vanden Plas produce a version of the Austin 1100 (ADO16, 1963-1974) and all the ADO16s until 1967 shared their taillights with the Hornet and Elf.  Although visually similar to those used between 1962-1970 on MG’s MGB (1962-1980) & MGC (1967-1969); they are different, the Hornet/Elf/ADO16 units being the Lucas L549 while the MGs used the L550.  Between 1961-1966, the MG Midget (1961-1980) used the L549 and between 1966-1970 the L550.

1970 Chapron Citroën DS20 Décapotable Usine (left), 1962 Chapron Citroën DS19 Concorde (with clignotants rouge, right) and 1965 Chapron Citroën DS21 Le Caddy (with clignotants ambre, right).

Chapron’s approach to clignotant placement varied with rear coachwork.  On the volume models officially supported by the factory, two small lens were fitted within chrome housings, mounted on opposite sides at the base of the soft-top.  For his more exclusive Le Caddy & Concorde with squared-off rear quarters (al la the “modernizing” look Mercedes-Benz applied to the 300 Adenauer W186, 1951-1957) to create the 300d (1957-1962)) Chapron re-purposed one of the existing taillights, using a still-lawful red lens on many although later models switched to amber.

1973 Citroën DS23 Pallas "landaulet" (in the style of that once used by the French president, left), 2010 Maybach 62 S Landaulet (to right), John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) in Papal 1965 Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL Landaulet (bottom left) and Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) with his 1966 Mercedes-Benz 600 Landaulet (bottom right).

From the moment it first was shown in 1955 the DS has intrigued and it’s the various convertibles which attract most attention.  To this day, the things remain a symbol which quintessentially is French and at least two have been converted into “full-roof” landaulets for tourists to be escorted around Paris.  The landaulet (a car with a removable roof which retains the side window frames) was a fixture on coach-building lists during the 1920s & 1930s but became rare in the post-war years; of late the only ones produced in any volume were the 59 Mercedes-Benz 600s (1963-1981) which came in “short” and “long” (though not full) roof versions although there was a revival, 22 Maybach 62 S Landaulets built between 2011-2022, one of which was even RHD.  Considering the price and specialized nature of the variant, that there were 22 made makes the Landaulet more a success than the unfortunate "standard" Maybachs which managed only some 3300 between 2002-2013.  The Papal Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL (W109) Landaulet was a gift from the factory but it was for years little used because the next year a very special 600 (W100) Pullman Landaulet was provided and this much more spacious limousine was preferred.  The papal 600 was unique in that it was one of the “high roof” state versions and fitted with longer rear doors, a “throne” in the rear compartment which, mounted on an elevated floor, could be raised or lowered as Hid Holiness percolated through crowed streets.  It was the latest in a long line of limousines and landaulets the factory provided for the Holy See and remains one of the best known; returned to the factory in 1985, it’s now on permanent display at the Mercedes-Benz museum in Stuttgart.  Use of the 600 became infrequent after the attempted assassination of John Paul II (1981).  As a stopgap, the 300 SEL quickly was armor-plated and used occasionally until the arrival of “Popemobiles” in which the pontiff sat in an elevated compartment with bullet-proof glass sides.  Despite that, Mercedes-Benz have since delivered two S-Class (a V126 & V140) landaulets to the Vatican.  Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) has no taste for limousines or much else which is extravagant and prefers small, basic cars although to ensure security the bullet-proof Popemobiles remain essential and in 2024 Mercedes-Benz presented the Holy See with a fully-electric model, based on the new W465 G-Class.  The Vatican is planning to have transitioned to a zero-emission vehicle fleet by 2030.   

1974 Citroën DS23 Pallas: the one-off Australian “semi-phaeton”.

In Australia, someone created something really unique: a DS “semi-phaeton”.  While the definition became looser until eventually it became merely a model name which meant nothing beyond some implication of exclusivity & high price, the term “phaeton” (borrowed from the age of the horse-drawn buggy) referred to a vehicle with no top or side windows.  By the late 1930s, when last they were on the books as regular production models, the “phaetons” had gained folding tops and often removable side windows but they’d also lost market appeal and except for the odd few built for ceremonial purposes (the most memorable the three Chrysler Imperial Parade Phaetons built in 1952 and still occasionally used), there was no post-war revival.  The Australian creation was based on a 1974 DS23 Pallas and had no soft-top or rear-side windows but the front-side units remained operative.  The rear doors were changed to hinge from the rear (the so-called “suicide doors”; the external handles removed from all four), an indication the engineering was more intricate than many of the “four-door convertibles” made over the years by decapitating a sedan; the sales blurb did note the platform was “strengthened”, something essential when a structural component like a roof is removed.

The Citroën SM, a few of which were decapitated 

1972 Citroën SM (left) & 1971 Citroën SM Mylord by Carrosserie Chapron (right).  The wheels are the Michelin RR (roues en résine or résine renforcée (reinforced resin)) composites, cast using a patented technology invented by NASA for the original moon buggy.  The Michelin wheel was one-piece and barely a third the weight of the equivalent steel wheel but the idea never caught on, doubts existing about their long-term durability and susceptibility to extreme heat (the SM had inboard brakes).  

Upon release in 1971, immediately the Citroën SM was recognized as among the planet's most intricate and intriguing cars.  A descendant of the DS which in 1955 had been even more of a sensation, it took Citroën not only up-market but into a niche the SM had created, nothing quite like it previously existing, the combination of a large (in European terms), front-wheel-drive (FWD) luxury coupé with hydro-pneumatic suspension, self-centreing (Vari-Power) steering, high-pressure braking and a four-cam V6 engine, a mix unique in the world.  The engine had been developed by Maserati, one of Citroën’s recent acquisitions and the name acknowledged the Italian debt, SM standing for Systemé Maserati.  Although, given the size and weight of the SM, the V6 was of modest displacement to attract lower taxes (initially 2.7 litres (163 cubic inch)) and power was limited (181 HP (133 kW)) compared to the competition, such was the slipperiness of the body's aerodynamics that in terms of top speed, it was at least a match for most.

1973 Citroën SM with reproduction RR wheels in aluminium.

However, lacking the high-performance pedigree enjoy by some of that competition, a rallying campaign had been planned as a promotional tool.  Although obviously unsuited to circuit racing, the big, heavy SM didn’t immediately commend itself as a rally car; early tests indicated some potential but there was a need radically to reduce weight.  One obvious candidate was the steel wheels but attempts to use lightweight aluminum units proved abortive, cracking encountered when tested under rally conditions.  Michelin immediately offered to develop glass-fibre reinforced resin wheels, the company familiar with the material which had proved durable when tested under extreme loads.  Called the Michelin RR (roues resin (resin wheel)), the new wheels were created as a one-piece mold, made entirely of resin except for some embedded steel reinforcements at the stud holes to distribute the stresses.  At around 9.4 lb (4¼ kg) apiece, they were less than half the weight of a steel wheel and in testing proved as strong and reliable as Michelin had promised.  Thus satisfied, Citroën went rallying.

Citroën SM, Morocco Rally, 1971.

The improbable rally car proved a success, winning first time out in the 1971 Morocco Rally and further success followed.  Strangely, the 1970s proved an era of heavy cruisers doing well in the sport, Mercedes-Benz winning long-distance events with their 450 SLC 5.0 which was both the first V8 and the first car with an automatic transmission to win a European rally.  Stranger still, Ford in Australia re-purposed one of the Falcon GTHO Phase IV race cars which had become redundant when the programme was cancelled in 1972 and the thing proved surprisingly competitive during the brief periods it was mobile although the lack of suitable tyres meant repeatedly the sidewalls would fail; the car was written off after a serious crash.  The SM, GTHO & SLC proved a quixotic tilt and the sport went a different direction.  On the SM however, the resin wheels had proved their durability, not one failing during the whole campaign and encouraged by customer requests, Citroën in 1972 offered the wheels as a factory option although only in Europe; apparently the thought of asking the US federal safety regulators to approve plastic wheels (as they’d already been dubbed by the motoring press) seemed to the French so absurd they never bothered to submit an application.

1974 prototype Citroën SM with 4.0 V8.

Ambitious as it was, circumstances combined in a curious way that might have made the SM more remarkable still.  By 1973, sales of the SM, after an encouraging start had for two years been in decline, a reputation for unreliability already tarnishing its reputation but the first oil shock dealt what appeared to be a fatal blow; from selling almost 5000 in 1971, by 1974 production numbered not even 300.  The market for fast, thirsty cars had shrunk and most of the trans-Atlantic hybrids (combining elegant European coachwork with large, powerful and cheap US V8s), which had for more than a decade done good business as alternative to the highly strung British and Italian thoroughbreds, had been driven extinct.  Counter-intuitively, Citroën’s solution was to develop an even thirstier V8 SM and that actually made sense because, in an attempt to amortize costs, the SM’s platform had been used as the basis for the new Maserati Quattroporte but, bigger and heavier still, performance was sub-standard and the theory was a V8 version would transform both and appeal to the US market, then the hope of many struggling European manufacturers.

Recreation of 1974 Citroën SM V8 prototype.

Citroën didn’t have a V8; Maserati did but it was big and heavy, a relic with origins in racing and while its (never wholly tamed) raucous qualities suited the character of the sports cars and saloons Maserati offered in the 1960s, it couldn’t be used in something like the SM.  However, the SM’s V6 was a 90o unit and thus inherently better suited to an eight-cylinder configuration.  In 1974 therefore, a four litre (244 cubic inch) V8 based on the V6 (by then 3.0 litres (181 cubic inch)) was quickly built and installed in an SM which was subjected to the usual battery of tests over a reported 20,000 km (12,000 miles) during which it was said to have performed faultlessly.  Bankruptcy (to which the SM, along with some of the company's other ventures, notably the GZ Wankel programme, contributed) however was the death knell for both the SM and the V8, the prototype car scrapped while the unique engine was removed and stored, later used to create a replica of the 1974 test mule.

Evidence does however suggest a V8 SM would likely have been a failure, just compounding the existing error on an even grander scale.  It’s true that Oldsmobile and Cadillac had offered big FWD coupés with great success since the mid 1960s (the Cadillac at one point fitted with a 500 cubic inch (8.2 litre) V8 rated at what sounds an alarming 400 HP (300 kW)) but they were very different machines to the SM and appealed to a different market.  Probably the first car to explore what demand might have existed for a V8 SM was the hardly successful 1986 Lancia Thema 8·32 which used the Ferrari 308's 2.9 litre (179 cubic inch) V8 in a FWD platform.  Although well-executed within the limitations the configuration imposed, it was about a daft an idea as it sounds although it did hint at what a success a V8 Fiat 130 saloon (1969-1976) & coupé (1971-1977) might have been if sold with a Lancia badge.  Even had the V8 SM been all-wheel-drive (AWD) it would probably still have been a failure but it would now be remembered as a revolution ahead of its time.  As it is, the whole SM story is just another cul-de-sac, albeit one which has become a (mostly) fondly-regarded cult.

State Citroëns by Carrosserie Chapron: 1968 Citroën DS state limousine (left) and 1972 Citroën SM Présidentielle (right).

In the summer of 1971, after years of slowing sales, Citroën announced the end of the décapotable usine and Chapron’s business model suffered, the market for specialized coach-building, in decline since the 1940s, now all but evaporated.  Chapron developed a convertible version of Citroën’s new SM called the Mylord but, very expensive, it was little more successful than the car on which it was based; although engineered to Chapron’s high standard, fewer than ten were built.  Government contracts did for a while seem to offer hope.  Charles De Gaulle (1890–1970; President of France 1958-1969) had been aghast at the notion the state car of France might be bought from Germany or the US (it’s not known which idea he thought most appalling and apparently nobody bothered to suggest buying British) so, at his instigation, Chapron (apparently without great enthusiasm) built a long wheelbase DS Presidential model.

Size matters: Citroën DS Le Presidentielle (left) and LBJ era stretched Lincoln Continental by Lehmann-Peterson of Chicago (right).

Begun in 1965, the project took three years, legend having it that de Gaulle himself stipulated little more than it be longer than the stretched Lincoln Continentals then used by the White House (John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) was assassinated in Lincoln Continental X-100 modified by Hess and Eisenhardt) and this was achieved, despite the requirement the turning circle had to be tight enough to enter the Elysée Palace’s courtyard from the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and then pull up at the steps in a single maneuver.  Although size mattered on the outside, De Gaulle’s sense of “grandeur de la France” didn’t extend to what lay under the hood, Le Presidentielle DS retaining the 2.1 litre (133 cubic inch) 4 cylinder engine but he’d probably have scorned the 7.5 litre (462 cubic inch) V8 by then in Lincolns as typical American vulgarity.  As it was, although delivered to the Élysée in time for the troubles of 1968, Chapron’s DS was barely used by De Gaulle because he disliked the partition separating him from the chauffeur and he preferred either the earlier limousines built in the 1950s by Franay and Chapron (both based on the earlier Citroën Traction Avant 15/6) or a DS landaulet (with full-length folding roof) in which he could stand up and look down on the (hopefully) cheering crowds lining the road.

However, the slinky lines must have been admired because in 1972 Chapron was commissioned to supply two really big four-door convertible Le Presidentielle SMs as the state limousines for Le Général’s successor, Georges Pompidou (1911–1974; President of France 1969-1974).  First used for 1972 state visit of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), they remained in regular service until the inauguration of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) in 1995, seen again on the Champs Elysees in 2004 during Her Majesty’s three-day state visit marking the centenary of the Entente Cordiale.

1972 Citroën SM Opera by Carrosserie Chapron (left) & 1973 Maserati Quattroporte II (right).  This is the Quattroporte which was slated to receive the V8 tested in the SM.

Despite that, state contracts for the odd limousine, while individually lucrative, were not a model to sustain a coach building business and a year after the Mylord was first displayed, Chapron inverted his traditional practice and developed from a coupé, a four-door SM called the Opera.  On a longer wheelbase, stylistically it was well executed but was heavy and both performance and fuel consumption suffered, the additional bulk also meaning some agility was lost.  Citroën was never much devoted to the project because they had in the works what was essentially their own take on a four-door SM, sold as the Maserati Quattroporte II (the Italian house having earlier been absorbed) but as things transpired in those difficult years, neither proved a success, only eight Operas and a scarcely more impressive thirteen Quattroporte IIs ever built.  The French machine deserved more, the Italian knock-off, probably not.  In 1974, Citroën entered bankruptcy, dragged down in part by the debacle which the ambitious SM had proved to be although there had been other debacles worse still.

That other quintessential symbol of France, Bridget Bardot (b 1934) in La Déesse with a lit Gitanes.

The combination of a car, a woman with JBF and a cigarette continued to draw photographers even after smoking ceased to be glamorous and became a social crime.  First sold in 1910, Gitanes production in France survived two world wars, the Great Depression, Nazi occupation but the regime of Jacques Chirac (1932–2019; President of France 1995-2007) proved too much and, following the assault on tobacco by Brussels and Paris, in 2005 the factory in Lille was shuttered.  Although Gitanes (and the sister cigarette Gauloise) remain available in France, they are now shipped from Spain and while in most of the Western world fewer now smoke, Gitanes Blondes retain a cult following.  Three years after the last SM left the factory, Henri Chapron died in Paris, his much down-sized company lingering on for some years under the direction of his industrious widow, the bulk of its work now customizing Citroën CXs.  Operations ceased in 1985 but the legacy is much admired and the décapotables remain a favorite of collectors and film-makers searching for something with which to evoke the verisimilitude of 1960s France.

Grave of Monsieur et Madame Arbelot, Cimetière du Père Lachaise, Paris.

In most circumstances, the sight of a husband staring at the decapitated head of his wife which he’s holding aloft before his eyes would be at least confronting and usually an indication he may have committed at least one offence but there is, carved in stone in a Parisian cemetery, one such decapitation which is romantic.  In the Cimetière du Père Lachaise (Rueil-Malmaison, Departement des Hauts-de-Seine) lie the graves of Fernand (Louis) Arbelot (1880-1942) and his wife Henriette Marie Louise Gicquel (1885-1967), the couple married in the city in August 1919.  It was during her funeral in 1967 they finally were reunited and the bronze statue of a recumbent Monsieur Arbelot holding in his hands the face of his beloved is a monument to his one wish when dying: to forever gaze upon the face of his wife.  The epitaph on the grave reads: Ils furent émerveillés du beau voyage qui les mena jusqu’au bout de la vie (They were amazed by the beautiful journey that led them to the end of life).

Epitaph on grave of Monsieur et Madame Arbelot, Cimetière du Père Lachaise, Paris.

Established in 1803 by Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815) and named after the Jesuit priest, Père François de la Chaise (1624–1709) who was confessor to Louis XIV (1638–1715; le Roi Soleil (the Sun King), King of France 1643-1715), at 40 hectares (100 acres), Père Lachaise remains Paris's largest cemetery and contains over a million internments.  Apart from the obvious matter of the many dead, it’s of interest to historians of town planning because as a piece of landscape architecture, it represented an change of approach from the old, over-crowded medieval churchyards in which corpses had for centuries be piled one atop the other.  Although not strictly true, the place has come to be regarded as the first “garden” or “landscape” cemetery and even the French admit there was influence from the eighteenth century country houses of the English aristocracy & landed gentry, the grounds of which were characterized by irregular, winding paths and picturesque gardens with a seemingly (and sometime literally) random, naturalistic approach to plantings.  It was also one of Napoleon’s more far-sighted decisions because although initially unpopular because of its distance from the city, Paris quickly expanded to “meet” it and the vast space made possible to purchase of individual plots, once a privilege available only to the rich.

Grave of Monsieur et Madame Arbelot, Cimetière du Père Lachaise, Paris.

Attracting each year more than four million tourists, Cimetière du Père Lachaise is one of the world’s more-visited graveyards and it features frequently on Instagram & TikTok, the favoured dead celebrities including the Irish author Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) although his memorial is now less photogenic because the carving of a sleeping winged sphinx had to be placed behind plexiglass to prevent the “theft of certain private parts” and protect it from the lipstick-covered kisses of devotees (left by women as well as men it’s said).  Other popular fan-graves include those of Polish composer Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849), US singer Jim Morrison (1943-1971), Italian artist of the Paris School Amedeo Modigliani (1884–1920), French singer Édith Piaf (1915–1963), French novelist Marcel Proust (1871–1922), US writer Gertrude Stein (1874–1946) and the French pioneer of sociology Auguste Comte (1798–1857).

Judith and the decapitation of Holofernes

In the Bible, the deuterocanonical books (literally “belonging to the second canon”) are those books and passages traditionally regarded as the canonical texts of the Old Testament, some of which long pre-date Christianity, some composed during the “century of overlap” before the separation between the Christian church and Judaism became institutionalized.  As the Hebrew canon evolved, the seven deuterocanonical books were excluded and on this basis were not included in the Protestant Old Testament, those denominations regarding them as apocrypha and they’re been characterized as such since.  Canonical or not, the relationship of the texts to the New Testament has long interested biblical scholars, none denying that links exist but there’s wide difference in interpretation, some finding (admittedly while giving the definition of "allusion" wide latitude) a continuity of thread, others only fragmentary references and even then, some paraphrasing is dismissed as having merely a literary rather than historical or theological purpose.

Le Retour de Judith à Béthulie (The Return of Judith to Bethulia) (1470) by Botticelli, (circa 1444-1510).

The Book of Judith exists thus in the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Old Testaments but is assigned (relegated some of the hard-liners might say) by Protestants to the apocrypha.  It is the tale of Judith (יְהוּדִית in the Hebrew and the feminine of Judah), a legendarily beautiful Jewish widow who uses her charms to lure the Assyrian General Holofernes to his gruesome death (decapitated by her own hand) so her people may be saved.  As a text, the Book of Judith is interesting in that it’s a genuine literary innovation, a lengthy and structured thematic narrative evolving from the one idea, something different from the old episodic tradition of loosely linked stories.  That certainly reflects the influence of Hellenistic literary techniques and the Book of Judith may be thought a precursor of the historical novel: A framework of certain agreed facts upon a known geography on which an emblematic protagonist (Judith the feminine form of the national hero Judah) performs.  The atmosphere of crisis and undercurrent of belligerence lends the work a modern feel while theologically, it’s used to teach the importance of fidelity to the Lord and His commandments, a trust in God and how one must always be combative in defending His word.  It’s not a work of history, something made clear in the first paragraph; this is a parable.

Judit decapitando a Holofernes (Judith Beheading Holofernes) (circa 1600) by Caravaggio (Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, 1571–1610).

The facts of the climactic moment in the decapitation of General Holofernes are not in dispute, Judith at the appropriate moment drawing the general’s own sword, beheading him as he lay recumbent, passed out from too much drink.  Deed done, the assassin dropped the separated head in a leather basket and stole away.  The dramatic tale for centuries has attracted painters and sculptors, the most famous works created during the high Renaissance and Baroque periods and artists have tended to depict either Judith acting alone or in the company of her aged maid, a difference incidental to the murder but of some significance in the interpretation of preceding events.

Judit si presenta a Holofernes (Judith Presenting Herself to Holofernes) (circa 1724) by Antonio Gionima (1697–1732).

All agree the picturesque widow was able to gain access to the tent of Holofernes because of the general’s carnal desires but in the early centuries of Christianity, there’s little hint that Judith resorted to the role of seductress, only that she lured him to temptation, plied him with drink and struck.  The sexualization of the moment came later and little less controversial was the unavoidable juxtaposition of the masculine aggression of the blade-wielding killer with her feminine charms.  Given the premise of the tale and its moral imperative, the combination can hardly be avoided but it was for centuries disturbing to (male) theologians and priests, rarely at ease with bolshie women.  It was during the high Renaissance that artists began to vest Judith with an assertive sexuality (“from Mary to Eve” in the words of one critic), her features becoming blatantly beautiful, the clothing more revealing.  The Judith of the Renaissance and the Baroque appears one more likely to surrender her chastity to the cause where once she would have relied on guile and wine.

Judith (1928) by Franz von Stuck (1863–1928).

It was in the Baroque period that the representations more explicitly made possible the mixing of sex and violence in the minds of viewers, a combination that across media platforms remains today as popular as ever.  For centuries “Judith beheading Holofernes” was one of the set pieces of Western Art and there were those who explored the idea with references to David & Goliath (another example of the apparently weak decapitating the strong) or alluding to Salome, showing Judith or her maid carrying off the head in a basket.  The inventiveness proved not merely artistic because, in the wake of the ruptures caused by the emergent Protestant heresies, in the counter-attack by the Counter-Reformation, the parable was re-imagined in commissions issued by the Holy See, Judith’s blade defeating not only Assyrian oppression but all unbelievers, heretical Protestants just the most recently vanquished.  Twentieth century artists too have used Judith as a platform, predictably perhaps sometimes to show her as the nemesis of toxic masculinity and some have obviously enjoyed the idea of an almost depraved sexuality but there have been some quite accomplished versions.