Verklempt

Verklempt (pronounced fur-klempt, ver-klempt, vuh-klempt, or fuh-klempt)

Someone rendered unable to speak because they're emotionally overwhelmed.

1990–95: From the Yiddish פֿאַרקלעמט‎ (verklempt, farklemt or farklempt (overcome with emotion)), the past participle of verklemen or farklemen (also spelled as verklemmen & farklemmen) (to clamp (in a vise), to pinch, to choke (in the sense of “choke up”)) from the German verklemmt (inhibited, hemmed in, feeling (figuratively) squeezed; uptight (literally, “pinched, squeezed”), the past participle of verklemmen (to become stuck).  Ultimately, the Germanic forms can be traced back to the Old English clam & clom (bond; fetter).

Verklempt is a Yiddish loan word and spellings like ferklempt, fahklempt & farklempt are sometimes seen because it’s only in recent decades it’s has become fashionable and many are familiar with it only through oral use and the variations reflect interpretations of the phonetic perception.  The way English works is that if any of the variations beginning with “f” become prevalent, eventually they’ll be acknowledged as alternative spellings and perhaps even an English word.  For its effect (replete with cultural history), verklempt will remain Yiddish and thus a foreign borrowing and purists will note the advice of the Yiddish Word Dictionary that verklempt is pronounced “fur-klempt”.  The construction followed the usual German spelling and grammatical traditions, the ver- suggesting something happening to the subject (on the model of vergessen (forgotten)).  There are dozens of words related to the behavioural consequences of human emotion but the closest synonyms to verklempt are phrases like “overcome with emotion”, “overwhelmed”, struck dumb”, “rendered speechless” or “choked up”; words like “flustered” or “nervous” aren’t quite right because they refer to cause rather than effect, verklempt being an effect.  The root was from klemmen (which enjoys a range of meanings from “to press, to squeeze” to “to block, to oppress”.  Verklempt is an adjective (the noun use (the noun plural being verklempts) is informal).

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

To be verklempt is to be overwhelmed by emotion to the extent one is rendered unable to speak.  In modern use it’s associated with tell-tale phrases such as “choking back tears”, “quivering lips”, “moist eyes” et al but in Jewish tradition the Yiddish farklempt was associated not with any overwhelming emotional response but specifically to depression, loss and grief.  Encouraged by a variety of push & pull influences (notably talk-shows and click-bait), public displays of emotion are now more common than once and, in some circles, probably obligatory.  A state of verklemptness is one of the elements and in video feeds can function well as the “dramatic pause” which, as that phrase implies, should not too long linger or the audience will become impatient.  The comparative is “more verklempt” and the superlative “most verklempt” and subjects can, with the appropriate visual clues, operate anywhere in that spectrum but a frozen silence is essential and, cognizant of the audience’s attention span, it shouldn’t be maintained for more than about 7-10 seconds which doesn’t sound long but on a content-intensive medium like a video feed it’s quite a pause.

A verklempt Lindsay Lohan: Cady Heron and the bus scene (Mean Girls (2004)).

Verklempt is specific to being rendered physically unable to speak because of being emotionally overwhelmed although that’s just one possible reaction and one can be so emotionally overwhelmed one feels compelled to speak; it’s all about the circumstances of the moment.  In a sense verklempt is opposite of that described by the English Romantic poet William Wordsworth (1770–1850) who in the preface to the 1800 edition of his Lyrical Ballads wrote “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity”.  The poet clearly was fond of the phrase because he’d used it before and it’s endured because probably no other fragment of thought so well captures the moment of the Romantic poets which shifted a whole generation from the Augustan neo-classical style which was eighteenth-century poetry towards something intensely emotional and accessible.

Romantic poetry was so appealing to so many because the words summoned the ecstasy of the soul rather than of technique, the latter something understood only by a tiny educated elite.  The public adored the romantic movement because it was so accessible but the among the elitists there was distaste for what they viewed as little more than a tawdry emotional manipulation of the masses and later TS Eliot (1888–1965) (a self-declared “classical poet” in the special sense TE Hulme (1883–1917) used the term) would maintain that after John Donne (circa 1571-1631), a “dissociation of sensibility” afflicted poets, making them unable to  think as keenly as if they were sensing something or experiencing a deep emotion. Thought and feeling, Eliot argued, were as one in John Donne; in later poets, they became “dissociated”.

Not verklempt, something else; Mitch McConnell freezes.  Twice.  July-August 2023. 

Nor is verklempt a suitable word to describe the manifestations of the conditions now on show in the upper reaches of US politics (senile decay, cognitive decline, old age etc) although the symptoms often overlap to the point of being indistinguishable.  Senate minority leader Mitch McConnell (b 1942) attracted much recent interest when on two occasions in July & August 2023 he “froze in place”, mid-press conference, standing silent for some 20 seconds, apparently unable to respond until led away by aides.  The senator later informed the press he was “fine” and merely had felt “light-headed”, later releasing a letter from the attending physician of Congress that said that he was “medically clear” to continue his schedule.  Given the senate minority leader doesn’t operate heavy machinery and (at least directly) is probably a danger only to himself if he continues in office, presumably the medical bulletin is correct but the apparent state of his health (and others in the congress) has triggered some debate about whether term limits or retirement ages should be introduced.  Although technically it’s not possible with absolute certainty to define the point at which statutory senility is attained, the increasingly geriatric state of the US body politic suggests it shouldn’t be too hard to make an educated guess about which are afflicted.

To be verklempt might have better.  Joe Biden in Vietnam (not India as he appears to believe), September 2023.

In the White House however, there may be a feeling among his handlers that a verklempt Joe Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) might be something easier to spin that the one they’ve got who just keeps talking, often descending into mumbling incoherence before shuffling off the stage, sometimes tripping over obstacles, real and imagined.  There is a (doubtlessly apocryphal) story told in Washington DC that President Biden was told it was time to meet the cabinet.  After a few minutes it was noticed he was missing but was then discovered in another room talking to a bookcase and arguing with a chair.  The real concern was he lost the argument.     

Sole

Sole (pronounced sohl)

(1) Being the only one; only.

(2) Being the only one of the kind; unique; unsurpassed; matchless.

(3) Belonging or pertaining to one individual or group to the exclusion of all others; exclusive.

(4) In law, un-married (archaic).

(5) The bottom or under-surface of the foot.

(6) The corresponding under part of a shoe, boot, or the like, or this part exclusive of the heel.

(7) The bottom, under surface, or lower part of anything.

(8) In carpentry, the underside of a plane.

(9) In golf, the part of the head of the club that touches the ground.

(10) A European flatfish, Solea solea.

(11) Any other flatfish of the families Soleidae and Cynoglossidae, having a hook-like snout.

1275-1325:  From the Old French soul & sol (only, alone, just), from the Vlugar Latin sola from the Late Latin sōlus (alone, only, single, sole; forsaken; extraordinary), replacing Middle English soule.  The source was the Classical Latin solea (sandal, bottom of a shoe; a flatfish), derivative of solum (base, bottom, ground, foundation, lowest point of a thing (hence “sole of the foot”)).  The Latin root begat similar words in many European languages: the Spanish suela, the Italian soglia and the Portuguese solha although, technically, the bottom of the foot is the planta, corresponding to the palm of the hand.  The Latin sōlus is of unknown origin but may be related to the primitive Indo-European reflexive root swo- from which English later gained "so".

A fossil flatfish.

The various common European flatfishes (of the ray-finned demersal order Pleuronectiformes) became known as sole in the mid-thirteenth century, an adoption of French use which followed the Latin which named the solea after the sandal because of the resemblance in shape to a flat shoe.  In English, the meaning "bottom of a shoe or boot" is from the late fourteenth century, and the cobbler’s phrase “to heal and sole a boot (or shoe)” to describe a repair or replacement is a verb form from the 1560s.  Another linguistic innovation of boot-makers was the noun insole (an inner lining of a shoe or boot affixed inside to the bottom and following exactly the shape) which appeared in 1838; it soon became known as the inner sole or inner-sole.

The use in both Church and common law to mean "single, alone, having no husband or wife” was an appropriation of form reflecting the normal, everyday meaning of the sole (one and only, singular, unique) and was first used in that context in the late fourteenth century and, in some technical uses, appeared still as late as the early nineteenth.  The adjective solely began to appear in the late fifteenth century.  A particular adjectival adoption was the direct borrowing from Latin of solus, used in the theatre for stage directions by 1590s.  It’s a masculine (the feminine is sola) but, as part of an industry-specific jargon, solus was used for both.  In certain circles, including poets and lawyers, use of the word persisted in old Latin phrases such as solus cum sola (alone with an unchaperoned woman) and solus cum solo (all on one's own” (which translates literally as "alone with alone")).

Studies of the soles of the Lindsay Lohan’s feet in three aspects.

Sole and its antecedents proved a a productive source in English, the soleus (muscle of the calf of the leg) a creation in the 1670s in the Modern Latin used in medicine and, like the fish, inspired by the similarity to the Roman shoe.  The adjective solitary (alone, living alone) was a mid-fourteenth century formation from the Old French solitaire, from the Latin solitarius (alone, lonely, isolated) from solitas (loneliness, solitude) from solus (alone).  The meaning "single, sole, only" is from 1742 and the related forms are a solitarily & solitariness.   It was a noun as early as the late 1300s but the most inventive adaptation was probably the 1690s prison slang in which it described the punishment of solitary confinement; in 1854 the phrase became an official part of the administration of jails.

Martin Luther aged 43 (1529) by Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472-1653).

As a Reformation coinage, solus also provided theology with the 1590s solifidian (one who believes in salvation by faith alone), a tenet of Protestant Christianity based on the translation by the dissident, one-time Augustinian monk Martin Luther (1483-1546) of Romans 3:28, the construct being solus (alone) + fides (faith) from the primitive Indo-European root bheidh- (to trust, confide, persuade).  It must have been a success because solifidian was used as an adjective early in the new century; the related form is solifidianism.  Philosophy gained solipsism, the theory that self is the only object of real knowledge or the only thing that is real and that all else must be denied.

The solo as a “piece of music for one voice or instrument” dates from the 1690s and was in English a commonly used adjective as early as 1712, although the early uses had nothing to do with music, instead referring to activities undertaken alone or unassisted.  The verb is first attested 1858 in the musical sense, 1886 in a non-musical sense and was adopted in the business of pilot training to describe a pupil’s first flight without an instructor in the cockpit.  Among those who attend rock concerts, there seems to be one faction which regards the drum solo as a highlight and one for which it's a bore to be endured.

A desolate emo.

Desolate, the emo’s standard alliterative companion to devastated, in the mid-1300s meant “a person disconsolate, miserable, overwhelmed with grief, deprived of comfort", extended later in the century to “persons without companions, solitary, lonely".  If the word didn’t exist, emos would have invented it.  By the early fifteenth century, it became applied to the natural environment to describe places, "uninhabited, abandoned" from the Latin desolatus, past participle of desolare (leave alone, desert), the construct being de- (completely) + solare (make lonely).  It’s not clear when it came also to be used as a criticism of urban, built environments (typically industrial or suburban) but it was well-established early in the twentieth century.  Desolation (sorrow, grief, personal affliction), circa 1400 meant the "action of laying waste, destruction or expulsion of inhabitants" is from the twelfth century Old French desolacion (desolation, devastation, hopelessness, despair) and directly from the Church Latin desolationem (nominative desolatio), a noun of action from the past-participle stem of desolare (leave alone, desert).  The sense of a "condition of being ruined or wasted, destruction" is from the early 1400 and the sense of "a desolated place, a devastated or lifeless region" is from 1610s.  Also emo-themed was the adjective sullen, a 1570s alteration of the Middle English soleyn (unique, singular) from the Anglo-French solein, formed on the pattern of the Old French solain (lonely), from the Latin solus.  The emo-inspired sense shift in Middle English from "solitary" to "morose" occurred in the late fourteenth century.  Solitude is from the mid-fourteenth century, from the Old French solitude (loneliness) and directly from the Latin solitudinem (nominative solitudo) (loneliness, being alone; lonely place, desert, wilderness) from solus but didn’t become common use in English until the seventeenth century.  The solitudinarian (a recluse, unsocial person) is recorded from 1690s and it’s perhaps surprising such a modern-sounding word isn’t today more popular.

Saint Augustine of Hippo (circa 1510) by Berto di Giovanni (d 1529).

The noun soliloquy is from the 1610s, from the Late Latin soliloquium (a talking to oneself", the construct being solus + loqui (to speak) from the primitive Indo-European root tolkw- (to speak).  Earlier, it appeared in a translation of the Latin Soliloquiorum libri duo a treatise by Saint Augustine (354-430), who is said to have coined the word, on analogy of Greek monologia.  The related form is soliloquent.

Random

Random (pronounced ran-duhm)

(1) Proceeding, made, or occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern; lacking any definite plan or prearranged order; haphazard.

(2) In statistics, of or characterizing a process of selection in which each item of a set has an equal probability of being chosen (the random sample); having a value which cannot be determined but only described probabilistically.

(3) Of materials used in building and related constructions, lacking uniformity in size or shape.

(4) Of ashlar (stonework), laid without continuous courses and applied without regularity:

(5) In slang (also clipped to “rando” and some on-line sources insist “randy” is also used), something or someone unknown, unidentified, unexpected or out of place; anything odd or unpredictable (not necessarily a pejorative term and used as both noun & adjective).

(6) In slang, someone unimportant; a person of no consequence (always a pejorative).

(7) In printing, the sloping work surface at the top of a compositor's workbench on which type is composed (also called a bank and use now almost exclusive to the UK).

(8) In mining, the direction of a rake-vein.

(9) Speed, full speed; impetuosity, force (obsolete).

(10) In ballistics, the full range of a bullet or other projectile and thus the angle at which a weapon is tilted to gain maximum range (obsolete).

(11) In computing (as pseudorandom), mimicking the result of random selection.

1650s: From the earlier randon, from the Middle English randoun & raundon, from the Old French randon, a derivative of randir (to run; to gallop) of Germanic origin (related to the Old High German rinnan (to run) (from which Modern French gained randonnée (long walk, hike), from either the Frankish rant (a running) & randiju (a run, race) or the Old Norse rend (a run, race), both from the Proto-Germanic randijō, from rinnaną (run), from the primitive Indo-European r̥-nw- (to flow, move, run).  It was cognate with the Middle Low German uprinden (to jump up) and the Danish rende (to run).  The development of the adjective to mean “having no definite aim or purpose, haphazard, not sent in a special direction” evolved in the 1650s from the mid-sixteenth century phrase “at random” (at great speed) which picked up the fourteenth century sense from the Middle English noun randon & randoun (impetuosity; speed).  In English, the meaning closely mirrored that in the Old French randon (rush, disorder, force, impetuosity), gained from Frankish or other Germanic sources.  The spelling shift in Modern English from -n to –m was not unusual (seldom, ransom et al).  Random is a noun & adjective, randomness & randomosity are nouns, randomize is a verb and randomly is an adverb; the noun plural is randoms.

A “random person” is one variously unknown, unidentified, unexpected or out of place.

In general use, the meanings related to speed (full speed; force, trajectory of delivery etc) faded from use between the fourteenth & seventeenth centuries but persisted in the field of ballistics where “random” described the limit of the range of a bullet or other projectile (thus the angle at which a weapon was tilted to gain the maximum range.  Even that was largely obsolete by the early twentieth century but the idea of the angle being “a random” persists still in pockets in the UK to describe a sloping work surface on which printers compose pages (although few now use physical metal type).  The now familiar twenty-first century slang use can be either pejorative (someone unimportant; a person of no consequence) or neutral tending to the amused (something or someone unknown, unidentified, unexpected or out of place; anything odd or unpredictable).  The modern adoption appears to have its origin in 1980s US college student slang when “a person who does not belong on our dormitory floor” was so described; from this the hint of “inferior, undesirable” was perhaps inevitable.  “Rando” seems to be the standard abbreviation but some on-line sources also list “randy” which would seem to risk confusion or worse.

School lunch social engineering: Some sources recommend parents cut their children’s sandwiches in random ways.  The theory is it helps train their minds to accept change and helps them learn to adapt.

In computing, random access memory (RAM) had since the 1980s become familiar as one of a handful of the critical specifications of a computer (CPU, RAM, drive space) and the origin of the terms dates from IBM’s labs in the early 1950s when it was used to describe a new form of memory which could be read non-sequentially.  The modern RAM used by personal computers, servers, smart phones etc is an evolution from the original memory model; in the world of the early mainframes there was simply storage which could fulfil the functions now performed by both RAM and media like hard disks & solid state drives.  RAM is now a well-known commodity but the companion ROM (Read-Only Memory) is understood only by nerds and only an obsessional few of them give it much thought.  RAM volatile in that the contents are inherently temporary lost when the device is powered-down or re-started; it can thus be thought of as using static electricity for data storage.  That characteristic means it’s fast, affording the most rapid access by the CPU (Central Processing Unit) so is used to hold whatever data is at the time most in demand and that can be parts of the operating system, applications or documents.  ROM is non-volatile and whatever is written to ROM remains even if a device is switched-off; it’s thus used for essential, information like firmware and hardware information.

In mathematics and statistics, random does have precise definitions but in general use it’s used also as a vague synonym for “typical or average”.  To a statistician, the word implies “having unpredictable outcomes to the extent all outcomes are equally probable and if any statistical correlation is found to exist it will be wholly coincidental.  Thus, although all dictionaries list the comparative as more random and the superlative as most random, a statistician will insist these are as absurd as “very unique” although even among mathematicians phrases like “increasingly random” or “tending to randomness” are probably not unknown.  For others, the forms are useful and the colloquial use to mean “apropos of nothing; lacking context; unexpected; having apparent lack of plan, cause or reason” is widely applied to events, even those which to a specialist may not be at all random and may even be predictable.  For most of us, any sub-set of numbers which appears to have no pattern will appear random but mathematicians need to be more precise.  In the strict, technical sense, a true random number set exists only when two conditions are satisfied: (1) the values are uniformly distributed over a defined interval or set and (2) it is impossible to predict future values based on past or present ones.  In the pre-computer age, creating random number lists was challenging and subsequent analysis has found some of the sets created by manual or mechanical means were not truly random although those which were sufficiently large probably were functional for the purposes to which they were put.

“Random news” is something strange, unexpected and often amusing.    

Now, random number generators (RNG) are used and they can exist either in hardware or software and there are two types (1) pseudorandom number generators (PRNG) and true random number generators (TRNG).  A software algorithm, a PRNG emulates a TRNG by mimicking the selection of a value to approximate true randomness, the limitation being the algorithm being based on a distribution (the origin of the term pseudorandom) which can only produce something ultimately deterministic and predictable (although to determine the pattern can demand much computational power).  Relying on a seed number, if that can be isolated, other numbers can be predicted although, if the subset is large, for many purposes, what PRNGs generate is functional.  TRNGs don’t use an algorithm (although their processes can be represented by one) but are instead based on an unpredictable physical variable such as radioactive decay of isotopes, airwave static, or the behaviour of subatomic particles, the latter now favoured for their utterly unpredictable movements, now called “pure randomness”.  So random is the behaviour of subatomic particles that their observation appears to be immune to measurement biases which can (at least in theory) afflict other methods.

Random numbers are important in a number of fields including (1) statistical sampling and experimentation where it’s essential to select a random sample to ensure that the results are representative of the entire population, (2) cryptography where random numbers are used to generate the encryption keys which ensure the security of data and communications, (3) simulation and modelling where there’s a need to replicate real-world scenarios, (4) gaming & gambling where the need exists to create unpredictable outcomes and (5) randomized controlled trials (RCT), notably in medical and scientific research where true randomness is needed to assist in the assessment of the effectiveness of treatments, interventions, or policies.

Strand

Strand (pronounced strand)

(1) To drive or leave (a ship, fish etc) aground or ashore.

(2) To bring into or leave in a helpless position (usually used in the passive).

(3) A shore or beach (now poetic, archaic or regional).

(4) A small brook or rivulet (archaic).

(5) A passage for water; a gutter (Northern England & Scotland)

(6) A foreign country (archaic).

(7) One of a number of fibres, threads, or yarns, plaited or twisted together to form a rope, cord, or the like.

(8) A rope made of such twisted or plaited fibres.

(9) A fibre or filament, as in animal or plant tissue.

(10) A thread or threadlike part of anything.

(11) By extension, a constituent element in a complex argument.

(12) A street in the Westminster district of west-central London, running from Trafalgar Square to Fleet Street parallel to the Thames, so-called because it was the “north strand” (ie shore) of the river; also the areas immediately surrounding the street.

Pre 1000:  From the Middle English strand or strond, (sea shore), from Old English strand (shore), related to the Dutch strand and Middle High German strant (beach) and the Latin sternere (to spread).  The Old English was borrowed from the Proto-Germanic strandaz & strandō (edge, rim, shore), source also of the Danish and Swedish strand (beach, shore, strand), the Old Norse strönd (border, edge, shore) the Middle Low German strant and the German and Dutch strand (beach).  The origin of the Proto-Germanic is uncertain but may be from the primitive Indo-European ster- (to broaden or stretch out), the application of which was “the parts of a shore that lies between the tide-marks” and it applied formerly also to river banks, hence The Strand in London, the name dating from 1246.

Françoise Hardy (b 1944), The Strand, London, 1966.

Historically, in Middle English it described things riparian, the use to refer to “individual fibres of a rope, string etc” or human hair first recorded circa 1500, probably from the Old French estran, from a Germanic source akin to the Old High German streno (lock, tress, strand of hair) from which is derived the Middle Dutch strene (a skein, hank of thread) and the German strähne (a skein, strand) of unknown origin.  The meaning "to drive aground on a shore" from which flowed the figurative sense of "leave lost or helpless" as of a ship left aground by the tide, was first recorded in 1837 and survives in the words stranded & stranding. Descendants of the Germanic root appear in many European languages including Hungarian, Romanian & Serbo-Croatian and it’s a not uncommon proper noun in the Nordic lands, both as a surname and locality name.

The stranded phrase

In linguistic anthropology, a stranded phrase is a once-popular saying that has fallen from use.  The idea is shared with economics where the term stranded asset is used to describe assets held which have been subject to a premature or unanticipated devaluation in their value, the most commonly quoted potential examples being vast, undeveloped coal-fields which decades ago were highly valued, to be capitalized over a productive life which might be forty or more years but which may shortly become worthless because of shifts in the market.  Phrases can fall from favor for structural reasons or just become unfashionable in the way something like “stone the crows” is archaic, stranded in the time of its popularity, sometimes surviving only as period pieces of an era.

The phrase bunny boiler is derived from the film Fatal Attraction (1987) in which an obsessive, spurned woman, in a fit of frenzied jealousy, boils in a pot the pet rabbit of her erstwhile lover's daughter.  The epithet was coined to refer to women unable to remain rational at the end of a romantic relationship and predictably, is only ever applied to women.  In pre-web times, variations in colloquial language tended to spread more slowly than those powered by the latter-day ubiquity of the net and “bunny boiler” seems not to have entered general use until 1994.  The USENET groups which maintain online archives of such things notes bunny boiler was not used on their (pre-web) platform and while there’s no reliable information about use on the web before 1994, given that non-academic use of the internet then was a tiny fraction of today, such data might anyway not be indicative of general use but nor are there more than a handful of instances in the archives of US and British newspapers before that date.  Indeed, the first recorded instance in print is from an interview the rabbit-slaughtering actress Glenn Close (b 1947) gave to the US magazine Ladies' Home Journal in December 1990 during which she observed "…there's nothing like portraying a psychopathic bunny-boiler to boost one's self-esteem”.  If that was the first publication, that’s a plausible reason why it took so long after 1987 to disseminate and it makes sense because the epithet isn't in the original dialogue or promotional material and nor does it appear in any contemporary review.

Despite that, some sources do say it pre-dates 1990 but provide no evidence and all agree it came into wider use only after 1994 when the web began to assist dissemination, a process similar to that described by epidemiologists to illustrate the progress of viruses which, if achieving critical mass, can become an epidemic… or worse.  Bunny boiler thus began to enjoy a rapidity of infection from 1994, use peaking between 1998-2003, then declining to become stranded in its era.  The explanation offered by etymologists is that too much time elapsed between the source in 1987, the origin of the phrase circa 1990 and the mid-decade adoption so it lacked the newness and novelty these things usually require; its historic moment had passed.  Still, for men it remains useful, any needy, possessive, clingy or even talkative woman can be labelled potential or suspected bunny boiler.

Strands of Lindsay Lohan’s hair in an array of colors.

The idea is of course not new.  For some reason, the (anyway incorrectly quoted) phrase “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” is often attributed to Shakespeare, possibly because it’s plausibly in his voice or maybe because for most the only time the Middle English “hath” is seen is in some Shakespearian quote so the association sticks.  The real author however was actually Restoration playwright William Congreve (1670–1729) who coined the phrase for his 1697 play The Mourning Bride, the protagonist of which, although becoming a bit unhinged by the cruel path of doomed love, doesn’t resort to leporidaecide.  Congreve’s line, “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned” was good but actually was a more poetic rendition of a similar but less elegantly expressed version another playwright had used a year earlier.  The Mourning Bride is also the source of another fragment for which the bard is often given undeserved credit: “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast” although that’s often bowdlerized as “Music has charms to soothe a savage beast”.

Talisman

Talisman (pronounced tal-is-muhn or tal-iz-muhn)

(1) A stone, ring, or other object, usually engraved with figures or characters supposed to possess occult powers and worn as an amulet or charm; believed to protect the wearer from evil influences

(2) Any amulet or charm.

(3) Anything or anyone, the presence of which exercises a remarkable or powerful influence on human feelings or actions.

(4) A trim option offered on the Cadillac Fleetwood (1974-1976).

1630–1640: From the French or Spanish talisman, partly from Arabic طِلَسْم‎ (ṭilasm), from the Late Greek télesmon (completion, performance, consecrated object), and partly directly from the Byzantine Greek τέλεσμα (télesma) (talisman, religious rite, completion), from τελέω (teléō), (to perform religious rites, to complete), from τέλος (télos) (end, fulfillment, accomplishment, consummation, completion”).  The Arabic word was also borrowed by Turkish, Persian & Hindi and the only explanation for the -n in western European languages is replicated error.  Derived forms are the adjectives talismanic & talismanical and the adverb talismanically.  The correct noun plural is talismans (talismen is non-standard).

Lindsay Lohan wearing "Evil Eye" talisman, Los Angeles, March 2011.

The Evil Eye is a talisman (or amulet), or talisman which is said to afford the wear protection against the forces of evil.  Examples of Evil Eye talismans have for some three-thousand years existed in many cultures and are documented in early examples of the art of Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism and Christianity, the forms including the Hebrew Ayin Ha’ra, the Turkish Nazar Boncugu, the Italian Mal Occhio, the Farsi Bla Band, the Arabic Ayin Harsha, the Scots Droch Shuil, the Spanish Mal Ojo (or El Oja), the French Mauvais Oeil, the German Busen Blick and the Roman Oculus Malus.  The imagery is particularly ingrained in the Republic of Türkiye where the symbolism is visible on symbol on currency, in architecture and interior design and one is often hung from the necks of new-born children and even farm animals.

Freemason Evil Eye talisman.

Also known as the “Eye of Providence”, the symbol is not only part of Masonic ritualism but it appears on both the reverse of the US dollar bill (in a pyramid’s top cap) and the nation’s Great Seal.  Although many of the founding fathers of the US were confessed Freemasons, the official line is the unfinished pyramid was intended to symbolise “strength and duration”, with the 13 levels representing the original states which formed the US while the eye was there to acknowledge God’s sympathetic oversight of the fledgling nation.  It’s claimed the Freemasons had no involvement in these choices and that they didn’t even begin publicly to display the evil eye until well into the eighteenth century.  Whether prior to that they used it in secret is of course unknown and also a mystery is whether every member of the Secret Society of the Les Clefs d’Or is required to wear a concealed Masonic talisman.  It’s never been denied and unless there’s a defection from the cult, that too may remain a secret.

The Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman, 1974-1976

1971-1976 Cadillac Fleetwood.

Even by the standards of the American automobile of the time, the 1971 Cadillac was big.  Replacing the previous range which had run from 1965-1970, engineering innovations were limited and the changes were mostly cosmetic, much of the manufacturer’s attentions now devoted to conforming with the onrush of safety and pollution control legislation being imposed by governments.  In 1971 however, although somewhat detuned, the 472 cubic inch (7.7 litre) V8 was still rated at 365 gross horsepower and, with the emission controls still only rudimentary, retained the characteristics which by the early 1960s marked Detroit’s full-sized cars as having the world’s finest engine-transmission combinations.  Even though typically weighing over 5000 lbs (2300 KG) and built with few concessions to aerodynamic efficiency, Cadillacs had power enough for performance to be described usually as effortless.  Production volumes dropped in 1971 but that was because of difficulties in industrial relations and once new agreements were in place, sales quickly rebounded, records set in 1972 and again in 1973, Cadillac for the first time, producing more than three-hundred thousand cars.  There were however warning signs on the 1973 cars.  Although not yet the battering-rams which would later be bolted on, the bumper bars had grown bigger and heavier and for the first time, the emission controls began to be noticed, becoming intrusive by 1974, drivability suffering, power down and fuel consumption up.  The typical Cadillac owner might not have much noticed the additional fuel cost but they certainly noted, and complained about, the loss of power and occasionally stuttering engines.  Much worse was to come.

1973 would be the last good year for the “old” American economy which, sustained by the unusual circumstances of the post-war boom had, with the odd minor glitch, maintained an unprecedented general prosperity for over twenty years.  A generation now existed which knew no other world but the world shifted on 17 October 1973 when the first oil embargo was imposed, ending the boom which had been fed by cheap, limitless energy.  Suddenly, in the US, not only was gas (petrol) more expensive, the cost of a barrel of oil having quadrupled overnight, but there were, at least briefly, genuine shortages.  Even Cadillac owners with money enough to pay for a tank of gas found themselves in long queues, sometimes even unable to find any for sale.

1972 Oldsmobile 98 Regency interior in tufted, loose pillow style.

It was a short, sharp shock.  Oil supplies began again to flow within months but prices remained high.  Cadillac sales fell twenty-odd percent in 1974 but it was actually a good result, the company continuing to dominate its market sector, its results better than many.  The performance of the cars was less impressive, the bumpers ever bigger, the power lower and the driveability issues caused by the emission control devices worse.  At the time, there wasn’t much Cadillac could (or was prepared) to do about these things but resources were found to add even more luxury.  For years, the industry had been creating ever fancier versions of its lines, even the lower-priced being augmented with luxury versions, sometimes called “Brougham”, a moniker which came to be attached to the whole era.  Cadillac had long faced competition from Lincoln and Imperial but what must have been galling was the threat from within.  Oldsmobile, two notches down the GM pecking list from Cadillac, in 1972 introduced their “Regency” option, a package which essentially out-did Cadillac’s interiors with not just tufted velour upholstery but finished in a loose pillow style.  Cadillac had nothing like it but scrambled to respond, offering in 1973 the d'Elegance package, a US$750 option which included pillow-style velour seating as well as a more plush carpeting and bundled a few of the otherwise optional features.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in Medium Saddle leather.

However, all the d'Elegance stuff did was match what others were doing and there was still the corporate memory of the Cadillac mystique, a hankering for the time when Cadillac had been the “standard of the world”, a reputation built in the 1930s on basic engineering such as almost unique sixteen cylinder engines and maintained a generation later with cars such as the Eldorado Brougham, times when the name stood for something truly impressive.  By 1974 the world had changed and such extravagances were no longer possible but what could still be done was to add more gingerbread and for 1974, Cadillac announced the Talisman package.  Much more expensive than the d'Elegance and consequently more exclusive, the Talisman included an extended centre console, the front section housing an illumined writing tablet, the rear a storage compartment.  This had been done before but never with this opulence although it had the effect of reducing the huge car, a size which historically been a six-seater, into something strictly for four.  The interior was available in four colors in "Medici" crushed velour at US$1800 or in two shades in leather at US$2450 at a time when the Chevrolet Vega, GM’s entry-level automobile of the era cost US$2087.  The Talisman additionally gained matching deep-pile interior carpeting and floor-mats, a fully padded elk grain vinyl roof, exterior badge identifications, a stand-up, full-colour wreath and crest hood ornament and unique wheel-covers.  For those who needed more, for an additional US$85, a matching pillow and robe was available although the robe unfortunately wasn't cut in leather.  Optioned with the leather package, a 1974 Cadillac Talisman cost about US$13,200, matching what the company charged for the even bigger Fleetwood Seventy-Five limousines.  The additional gingerbread wasn’t all that expensive to produce; what Cadillac was selling was exclusivity and the market responded, 1898 Talismans coming off the production line that year, all sold at a most impressive profit.  Most prized today are the relative handful trimmed in leather, the urban legend being all were in medium saddle with none in the dark blue which was listed on the option list.  If any were sold with the blue leather, none appear now to exist and Cadillac’s records don’t record the breakdown.

1975 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman front compartment in rosewood velour.

The leather in either color didn’t anyway survive to the new model year, four colors of velour the only Talisman choices in 1975 and gone too was the rear-console extension, reportedly because of feedback from owners who either didn’t see the point or would have preferred the flexibility to carry an additional passenger.  It was an era of high inflation so the deletion of the hardware secured only a two-dollar reduction in price and in the gloomy economic climate of 1975, 1238 were sold.  The cars themselves were in their last days, huge dinosaurs unable to adapt to the shock of the new world they found around them though there were minor improvements.  Although engine size had been increased to 500 cubic inches (8.2 litres), output was down to 190 horsepower (although this was less of a drop from the 365 of 1971 because of the change in quoting power from gross to net) but the addition of catalytic convertors and later in the year, fuel injection, did allow some retuning, improving drivability.  The bumpers were the biggest yet and fuel economy, although improved, remained dire.

1974 Cadillac Fleetwood Talisman rear compartment in blue velour with optional pillows.  The pillows (which many would have described as "cushions") were also available on the Talismans trimmed in leather.  The world should have more leather pillows.

The end of the line came in 1976, the final year for the big Cadillacs which had evolved over three quarters of a century.  With so much corporate energy devoted to the new, smaller cars, on the dinosaurs changes were restricted to trim and details although the newly-legal rectangular headlights, adopted throughout the industry to permit lower bonnet lines and thereby slipperier aerodynamics, were spliced in.  Inside, new interior colors were offered and fake Rosewood replaced the simulated distressed pecan vinyl appliqués on the instrument panel, doors, and rear quarter trim.  Inspired by the Oldsmobile Regency which had caused such a stir in 1972, soft, thickly pillowed seats were now standard and the d'Elegance package with its accoutrements could still be added but bowing out after 1976 would be both the 500 cubic inch V8 and the Talisman package, available for its swansong in five colors at US$1813.  GM made no secret this was the last year of the big Cadillacs and sales spiked, a new record of 309,139 cars of which 1200 were Talismans.