Guggenhat

Guggenhat (pronounced goo-gin-hat)

1960: The construct was Guggen(heim) + hat.  Solomon Guggenheim (1861–1949) was a US businessman and art collector who in 1939 established the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, best known for the Guggenheim Museum in Manhattan, NYC, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and opened in 1960.  Hat (a shaped covering for the head, usually with a crown and brim, especially for wear outdoors) was pre-900, from the Middle English hat, from the Old English hætt (head-covering, hat) (variously glossing the Latin pileus, galerus, mitra & tiara), from the Proto-Germanic hattuz (hat, hood, cowl), from the primitive Indo-European kad- (to guard, cover, care for, protect).  It was cognate with the North Frisian hat (hat), the Danish hat (hat), the Swedish hatt (hat), the Icelandic hattur (hat), the Latin cassis (helmet), the Lithuanian kudas (bird's crest or tuft), the Avestan xaoda (hat), the Persian خود‎ (xud) (helmet), the Welsh cadw (to provide for, ensure) and the Old Norse hattr &  hǫttr (cap, cowl, hood).  The Proto-Germanic hattuz is of uncertain etymology although etymologists have suggested a link with the Lithuanian kuodas (tuft or crest of a bird) and Latin cassis (helmet), the latter thought perhaps more persuasive although most maintain the source of this was Etruscan.

Sally Victor's Airwave hat created for Mamie Eisenhower (1896–1979; first lady of the United States 1953-1961) to wear at her husband's (Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969) US president 1953-1961) inauguration.  The shape reflected the influence Ms Victor noted that wartime advances in aerodynamics and the increased understanding of fluid dynamics had had on many aspects of the built environment and industrial design.

Sally Victor (1905–1977) was a US milliner active between 1928-1967 who supplied both celebrities as well as the first ladies of both the Eisenhower (1953-1961) and Kennedy (1961-1963) White Houses and in a tactic that was used by the manufacturers of many products, while maintaining the exclusivity of her signature lines, she also sold mass-market ranges under the name Sally V.  Although her designs borrowed from the history of fashion, Sally Victor was interesting in that she was inspired not only by various traditions from the visual arts of many cultures but also industrial influences such as machinery, military vehicles and, most memorably, modernist architecture.  Unlike many designers serving the upper reaches of the market, even before such things became fashionable in the post-war world, she was never reticent in using synthetic materials in her hats, valuing the novel possibilities in shape and rigidity they afforded compared to the usual felts and silks of the time.

The Gugenhat and the Guggenheim, 1960.

Her most famous hat, known informally as the “gugenhat” was based on one of the landmarks of modernism, the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum (usually styled "the Guggenheim") on Manhattan's Fifth Avenue, designed by US architect Frank Lloyd Wright (1867–1959).  Solomon Robert Guggenheim (1861–1949) was an American businessman and art collector who in 1939 established the Solomon R Guggenheim Foundation.  Although his early interest in art had been in the works of the old masters, in the 1920s his attention switched to modern art, then a fashionable if not entirely respectable cult and it was in this field that he decided to specialize.  Initially, his collection was private with the occasional public exhibition but in 1939, he took the lease on a space in New York City and opened a public gallery, the Museum of Non-Objective Painting.  The size of the collection grew rapidly, in part because of the large numbers of modern works becoming suddenly available because of Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945, Führer (leader) of Nazi Germany 1933-1945) distaste for "modern art", an attitude the Nazi's imposed not only on the German state but also the territories in occupied Europe.  While the Nazis didn't want the works seen in any place under their control, they were pragmatic about them being sold for hard currency.  So large did Guggenheim's collection of the avant-garde become that in 1943, Frank Lloyd Wright was commissioned to design a dedicated structure which would become a permanent exhibition space, his remit including the stipulation that in addition to being a practical, function building, it should reflect also the nature of the contents.  Guggenheim died in 1949 and in 1952 the museum was renamed the Solomon R Guggenheim Museum, the new building opening in 1959.

Lindsay Lohan at Lady Gaga's (b 1986) Fame Eau de Parfum launch party, Guggenheim Museum, New York, 13 September 2012.

The Guggenheim Museum, Manhattan, NYC.

The building was not without its critics and it’s true that the architect did seem to be uncompromising in maintain the integrity of the interior design, even if that meant imposing inherent limitations of the size and shape of what could be displayed.  Despite that, as a building it has aged well and has for decades exerted an influence which is still not spent although few who have since done art galleries have seemed anxious to be seen to be following in the footsteps.  In the 1990s, the building was extended, most impressed with how sympathetically the new was interpolated into the existing structure although the usual suspects objected, maintaining that given its historical significance, it should have been maintained in its original form.

Hat (left), designed in silk by Cristóbal Balenciaga (1895-1872) and made for Eisa (Spain) in 1962.  It evokes the spirals used by French architect Emilio Terry (1890-1969) in his Spiral house (1930) (centre) and later picked up by Philip Johnson (1906-2005) for his Church of Thanks-Giving, Dallas, Texas (1977) (right), inspired by the Great Mosque in Samarra, Iraq which itself borrowed from the square, spiral Pillar of Gor in Persia.

Nor, in 1960, was the Guggenhat a novel concept, artists and others long having been playing with the idea of the motifs of architecture being applied to hats, clothing and shoes, among the milliners the Eifel Tower, once a popular model.  Among curators, the trend had been noted and in 1954, New York’s Museum of Modern Art commissioned Sidney Peterson to direct Architectural Millinery, a short film (seven minutes duration) comparing the tops of New York skyscrapers with the styles of hats and there was a reason it wasn’t a feature-length production: To design a hat which displays the recognizable influence of an architectural style or a particular building while being both wearable and aesthetically successful is difficult.  In that sense Ms Victor choose well because the New York Guggenheim was an example of a building which might well have been inspired by a hat and such structures are rare.  Other buildings, however admired for their other qualities don’t offer milliners quite so obvious a blueprint.

Guggenheim Museum Bilbao.

The Guggenheim Museum in Abando, Bilbao, in Spain’s Basque Country, was designed by Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry (b 1929) and opened in 1997 to almost universal acclaim from architects and it’s certainly eye-catching, even if one suspects comrade Stalin might have thought Gehry’s pencil drifted a little towards “formalism”.  Still, despite the odd back-handed compliment from a curmudgeon who found the lines “a fine example of modern art”, few in the last quarter-century seem to have revised their opinions although there have been criticisms of the internal dimensions which, unlike the Guggenheim in Manhattan will certainly accommodate large installations, some suggesting such art is prevalent enough without encouraging more.  Those who thought smaller pieces somehow suffered diminishment by being dwarfed by the enveloping space just don’t get the implications of art.

It could be done although there would be many who would say it shouldn't be done: The Guggenhat (Bilbao), a three-piece installation (digitally altered image).  Stranger stuff has been seen on catwalks but the Bilbao Guggenheim, as a whole, doesn’t lend itself to being rendered as a hat though in fairness to the architect, that’s not something likely to have piqued his interest.  The various interesting bits of the building might make several different hats but to get the effect, one would presumably need models walking carefully and closely in formation.

Even the Sydney Opera House (built between 1959-1973), perhaps more obviously geometrically promising (in millinery terms) has yet to inspire anything truly memorable although some kitsch (intended and not) shows up from time to time.

Zaha Hadid Architects' H-Line Hat for the Friends of the High Line, New York.

The motifs can however be separated from the whole.  Zaha Hadid Architects' H-Line Hat for the Friends of the High Line, New York was created in 2018 as part of a project to encourage architectural millinery based on the H-Line, an abandoned freight rail line which community action turned into a into a vibrant public park when the historic structure was under the threat of demolition.  Named (in a perhaps unimaginative but certainly simple piece of product association) the H-Line hat, the design was rendered in dégradé colors, the white melting into an electric blue around a brim the color of the sky and was inspired by an eleven storey residential building, the first project by Zaha Hadid Architects in New York and located near the High Line.  The hand-fixed steel façade of the building features a series of interlocking chevrons, steel bands and rounded corners, all evocative of Chelsea's industrial past and the decorative curves of the H-Line hat echoes these chevrons, weaving in open and closed forms around the wearer.

Cunctation

Cunctation (pronounced kuhngk-tey-shuhn)

Lateness; delay; hesitation (archaic).

1575–1585: From the Latin cunctātiōn- (stem of cunctātiō) (delay; tarrying; a hesitation), from cūnctor (linger, hesitate), the construct being cunctāt(us) (past participle of cunctārī (to delay) + -iōn (the noun suffix).  The Latin cunctari (to be slow, hesitate, delay action), is from the primitive Indo-European konk- (to hang), the source also of the Hittite kank- (to hang, weigh), the Sanskrit sankate (is afraid, fears), the Gothic hahan (to leave in uncertainty) The Old English hon (to hang) and the Old Norse hengja (to hang, suspend).  Cunctation, cunctatorship & cunctator are nouns and cunctatory, cunctative, cunctatory & cunctatious are adjectives; the noun plural is  plural cunctations (although, historically, the use of cuncator tended to become greater).

Google ngram: Cunctation (and derivatives) was once used to mean "Lateness; delay; hesitation" (and not only in the original military context) but in recent years it's deployed mostly for effect because of the phonetic relationship with the vulgar form once known as English's "last taboo word" (something still true in certain respectable circles).  It's also a popular entry in the lists of strange & obscure words the internet has encouraged to proliferate.  Because of the way Google harvests data for their ngrams, they’re not literally a tracking of the use of a word in society but can be usefully indicative of certain trends, (although one is never quite sure which trend(s)), especially over decades.  As a record of actual aggregate use, ngrams are not wholly reliable because: (1) the sub-set of texts Google uses is slanted towards the scientific & academic and (2) the technical limitations imposed by the use of OCR (optical character recognition) when handling older texts of sometime dubious legibility (a process AI should improve).  Where numbers bounce around, this may reflect either: (1) peaks and troughs in use for some reason or (2) some quirk in the data harvested.  

The socialist Fabian Society, founded in Britain in 1884 is a classic example of political cunctation (more usually (for a variety of reasons) called "gradualism"), the name borrowed from Quintus Fabius Maximus Verrucosus (Circa 280-203 BC; nicknamed Cunctator (the Delayer)), a cautious Roman tactician who opposed the Carthaginian general and statesman Hannibal (247–circa 183 BC) in the Second Punic War (201-218 BC).  Facing Hannibal's vastly superior Carthaginian forces, Fabius declined to engage in traditional set-piece, climactic battles and instead adopted a tactic of harassment and attrition, using small, precise strikes on vulnerable enemy outposts and supply lines, gradually wearing down his opponent.  It was a different approach from that typically taken by the Roman military and "Fabius Cunctator" was originally a term of derision but as it became clear it was the only method likely in the circumstances to be successful, it came to be an expression of admiration.  Essentially, although using tactics which had been part of war as long as conflict has existed, it was probably the first time that what is now referred to as guerrilla (and more recently as asymmetric) warfare became a codified part of the military manual.   The Fabians used the name to draw a distinction between their moderate approach and those of violent and revolutionary anarchists and communists.  Unfortunately for historians, the Fabians choose not to call themselves the Cunctative Society, a missed opportunity for the youth wing which instead had to be content with the nickname “young fabs”.  It’s an urban (or perhaps a rural) myth the Country Party in Australia changed its name to National Party because of such concerns.   

The Fabian Society

For the Fabian's coat of arms, a wolf in sheep's clothing was thought too threatening an image for the English, the lethargic but long-lived tortoise a more comforting symbol.

The Fabian Society was formed in 1884 (a year after the death of Karl Marx (1818-1883)) as a British socialist organization advocating the principles of democratic socialism should be achieved through gradual reform rather than revolution.  At times intellectually fashionable, it attracted (sometimes briefly) noted figures from science, literature and letters including George Bernard Shaw, HG Wells, Sydney Olivier, Ramsay MacDonald, Bertrand Russell and Emmeline Pankhurst; its influence on social-democratic politics spread from the British Labour Party around the world although perhaps the most far-reaching institution it spawned was the London School of Economics (LSE), founded in 1895.  Following the tactics of Fabius Maximus the Cunctator, the Fabians chose a gradual approach to attempt to realize their political strategy rather than the sudden blast of revolution favored by some other leftist groups (now also a notion popular among the some factions on the right).  In the spirit of this philosophy, the society adopted as its logo a tortoise although it did briefly flaunt a wolf in sheep’s clothing for its coat of arms, soon dropped for fear it might frighten the horses.  Ironically, Clement Attlee (later Lord Attlee, 1883–1967; UK prime minister 1945-1951), a Fabian prime-minister once dismissed by his predecessor (and successor) (Winston Churchill, 1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) as a "sheep in sheep's clothing", turned out to be something of a political wolf, in the difficult post-war years transforming the UK's economy and many aspects of its social arrangements.         

As with many movements in the early days of mass-democracy, the Fabian Society’s platforms and political positions were a mixture of reformist social justice, enlightened progressivism and what seem now at least quasi-fascist views on eugenics and race.  The Fabians sought the abolition of the hereditary aristocracy, a minimum wage, a national health service and, at least among some members, women's emancipation and enfranchisement.  The high-point of their influence in their native land came in the years of the post-war consensus, the so-called 1945 settlement which followed the British Labour Party's landslide victory in the general election of that year.  It was an era which extended from the end of the war until the changes wrought by the Thatcher government during the 1980s and was marked by a high degree of acceptance by both sides of politics of the model of a planned economy with much public ownership.  Interestingly, it was in New Zealand during these years that the Fabian model was implemented to the fullest extent seen in the English-speaking world and, tellingly, there it was unwound by the reformist Labour governments of the 1980s even more brutally than in the UK.  The New Zealand model is of historic interest because, unusually, it combined restricted economic freedom with a classic liberal social model including freedom of speech and political participation, an inversion of that pursued by authoritarian regimes such as the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).

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

Whatever may have been the political and economic consequences in the UK, it was perhaps during the post colonial years of the late twentieth century that the Fabian’s influence was at its greatest.  Many of the leading political figures in newly independent nations were exposed to Fabian thought, most famously Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru (1889–1964; Indian prime-minister 1950-1964) who designed the structure of India’s economic policy along the lines of Fabian socialism; the so-called "License Raj".  To an extent greater than was ever attempted in the UK, Nehru's Fabian ideas committed India to an economy in which the state either owned, operated or controlled the means of production and distribution, particularly industrial sectors such as steel, telecommunications, transportation, electricity generation, mining and real estate development.  Private activity, much of which was actively discouraged, was regulated by a vast and painfully slow bureaucracy through permits and licenses.  Other nations in Asia, Africa and the Middle East also followed the model to some degree though Singapore, under a competent and pragmatic leadership, soon identified the structural difficulties created and changed course, a realization which took a decade longer fully to register in the UK.

Even if the implications of its early programme were never realized, the Fabian Society remained an influence in left-wing English politics and was involved in the modernization of the Labour Party in the 1990s, although, given what New Labour became, there will be some who consider that an admission of guilt rather than a proud boast.  Now operating essentially as left-wing think-tanks rather than activist collectives, Fabian societies still exist in a number of countries under a variety of names.

The Young Fabs

After being in abeyance because of COVID-19, the ending of social restrictions in England meant the much-missed and long-awaited Young Fabians Boat Party was able again to cast-off in 2021.  Sales of the early-bird (Stg£30) tickets sold-out quickly and the standard (Stg£35) and non-member (Stg£40) tickets were soon all taken.

Prosecco spumante ("pro-spew" to admirers & detractors alike).  The young fabs know how to have a good time.

Profits from the night of drink and dance down the Thames went towards supporting the Young Fabians’ "brilliant activism and policy work", the ticket price including a complimentary glass of Prosecco.  On board, a fully-stocked bar was open all evening (cash sales only) and while the dress code was (of course) relaxed, young fabs were encouraged to dress up "as much as made them feel comfortable" which for a young fab can be a difficult compromise to achieve: too scruffy and one's chances of hooking up with another young fab might be diminished (although Prosecco is said to lower both standards & inhibitions) while too smart might be considered a micro-aggression against the poor or those from ethnic minorities whose sartorial sense differs from Western, middle-class norms.  It's not always easy to be a young fab.  Cast-off was at 19:10 from Westminster Pier (all being advised it was essential to arrive by 18.45 to ensure there was time to board because there were no refunds for cunctators, one practice from capitalism which seems to have been absorbed).  The cruise ended when the boat docked at Westminster Pier at 23.30 but the partying was said to continue in the city at "a myriad of establishments".

Young Fab Ms Victoria Parrett, Events Officer & Treasurer of the Young Fabians who may be contacted on Twitter @VictoriaParrett or at victoria.parrett@youngfabians.org.uk.

Disinterest & Uninterest

Disinterest (pronounced dis-in-trist (U) or dis-in-ter-ist (non-U))

A freedom from bias or involvement; the absence of any conflict of interest.

1605–15: The construct was dis- + interest.  The prefix dis was from the Middle English dis-, from the Old French des from the Latin dis, from the proto-Italic dwis, from the primitive Indo-European dwís and cognate with the Ancient Greek δίς (dís) and the Sanskrit द्विस् (dvis).  It was applied variously as an intensifier of words with negative valence and to render the senses “incorrect”, “to fail (to)”, “not” & “against”.  In Modern English, the rules applying to the dis prefix vary and when attached to a verbal root, prefixes often change the first vowel (whether initial or preceded by a consonant/consonant cluster) of that verb. These phonological changes took place in Latin and usually do not apply to words created (as in Modern Latin) from Latin components since the language was classified as “dead”.  The combination of prefix and following vowel did not always yield the same change and these changes in vowels are not necessarily particular to being prefixed with dis (ie other prefixes sometimes cause the same vowel change (con; ex)).  The verb interest is from the Middle English interest, from Old French interesse & interest (intérêt in modern French), from the Medieval Latin interesse, from the Classical Latin interesse (to concern, to be between).  "The original meaning from circa 1600 was “cause to be interested, engage the attention of”, was based on the earlier (1560s) interesse, from the noun and may have been at least influenced by interess'd, past participle of interesse.  In other contexts, interest can mean “having a stake in or money involved in something, or “charges payable under the terms of usury (borrowing money).

Disinterest is a verb (used with object) although the cost commonly used derived form is probably the seventeenth century adjective “disinterested” (Having no stake or interest in the outcome; free of bias, impartial (and technically a corruption of the adjectives disinterest & disinteressed)).  Disinterest should be associated with words like neutrality, impassivity, detachment, dispassion, impartiality & nonpartisanship.

Uninterest (pronounced un-in-trist (U) or uhn-in-ter-ist (non-U))

A lack of interest in something; indifference.

1890–1895: The construct was un + interest. The prefix –un was from the Middle English un-, from the Old English un-, from the Proto-West Germanic un-, from the Proto-Germanic un-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥-.  It was cognate with the Scots un- & on-, the North Frisian ün-, the Saterland Frisian uun-, the West Frisian ûn- &  on-, the Dutch on-, the Low German un- & on-, the German un-, the Danish u-, the Swedish o-, the Norwegian u- and the Icelandic ó-.  It was (distantly) related to the Latin in- and the Ancient Greek ἀ- (a-), source of the English a-, the Modern Greek α- (a-) and the Sanskrit अ- (a-).

Dating from the 1660s, the adjective interested was first vested with the now familiar meaning (characterized by concern or sympathy), as the past-participle adjective from the verb interest.  From 1828 it picked up the sense (having an interest or stake (in something) which has since lent confusion to the uninterest / disinterest thing; the sense "motivated by self-interest" attested since 1705 and may be a back-formation from disinterested.  Although it’s clumsy enough to be rare, the noun interestedness (the state or quality of being interested, or having an interest; selfishness) really does exist; fortunately, it not often comes up in conversation.  Uninterest should be associated with words like aloofness, coldness, coolness, detachment, disregard, indifference & lassitude.

Lindsay Lohan looking uninterested.

Some of the vendettas run by the grammar Nazis against contemporary practices (eg the refusal to accept the meaning of the word “decimate” has changed and that those reading histories of the Punic Wars are unlikely to be confused) but the insistence on differentiating between “disinterest” and “uninterest” is a campaign worth or support.  Historically, "disinterested" has had two meanings, the first and still most widely accepted being “impartial; unbiased by personal interest or advantage” and most associated with judges or those who sit on deliberative tribunals (the practical mechanism being the "apprehended bias" test which is a determination of whether a perception of bias might reasonably be inferred from a judge's past comments, conduct or circle of acquaintances).  The second meaning is “having or showing no feeling of interest; indifferent”.  In other words, to ensure the fairness of a trial, judges should be disinterested in the matters before them but certainly not uninterested.  Both senses are long established in all varieties of English but disinterested is often used to mean “not interested” although uninterested seems rarely misused, presumably because disinterested is the more effortlessly economical form and uninterested that bit more clumsy.  Unlike something like “notorious” which is one of those annoying words with one spelling & pronunciation yet two distinct meanings which cannot always be resolved through context, English has given us disinterest & uninterest and so they should both be used in their separate, allocated meanings, thereby eliminating any ambiguity.

Lindsay Lohan as an interested but disinterested judge on The Masked Singer (2019).

Some word nerds, most of whom seem to believe the distinction between the two worth preserving, believe the battle is lost but that the linguistic causalities will be light, in instances where such things matter (usually in courts of law) few likely to be troubled by the mistake which mentally they’ll correct and move on.  Even some once rigorously dictionaries seem to have given up and accepted descriptive reality, the Macmillan saying only “Many people think that this use of the word is not correct” and the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) in one edition was prepared only to muse it was "Often regarded as a loose use."  Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of English Usage noted the a long history of overlapping use, “uninterested” originally meaning what the more fastidious now insist “disinterested” is supposed to mean today, the distinction emerging only in American English in the 1800s. Merriam-Webster conclusion was that “disinterested” has taken on an additional but "uninterested" still means only what it always has which seems a dismally defeatist position for a dictionary to adopt.

Relic & Relict

Relic (pronounced rel-ik)

(1) A surviving memorial of something past; something that has survived from the past, such as an object or custom.

(2) An object having interest by reason of its age or its association with the past; something kept in remembrance; souvenir; memento.

(3) A surviving trace of something.

(4) Remaining parts or fragments.

(5) In ecclesiastical use in Christendom, (especially in the Roman Catholic and Greek churches) the body, a bone or other body part, or some personal memorial of a saint, martyr, or other sacred person, preserved as worthy of veneration.

(6) In linguistics, a once widespread linguistic form that survives in a limited area but is otherwise obsolete.

(7) In informal use, an old or old-fashioned person or thing, a survivor from a bygone era.

(8) The remains of a dead person; a corpse (largely archaic and usually in the plural).

(9) In ecology a now less common term for relict.

1175–1225: From the Middle English relik (a body part or other object held in reverence or affection due to its connection with a holy person), from the Old French relique & relike (the eleventh century plural was reliques), from the Old English reliquias, the construct being reliqu(us) (remaining) + -iae the plural noun suffix), from the Late Latin reliquiæ (plural) (the remains of a martyr (although in Classical Latin it had meant “remains; remnants”)), noun use of the feminine plural of reliquus (remaining, that which remains), from relinquō (I leave behind, abandon, relinquish), the construct being from re- (back, backwards; again) the prefix added to various words to indicate an action being done again) + linquō (I leave, quit, forsake, depart from), and related to relinquere (perfective reliqui) (to leave behind, relinquish, forsake, abandon, give up), from the primitive Indo-European linkw-, a nasalized form of the root leikw- (to leave).  The Old English reliquias was a direct borrowing from Latin.  The noun reliquary (receptacle for keeping relics, often small enough to be carried on the person) dates from the 1650s, from the fourteenth century French reliquaire.  The noun plural was relics and the obsolete spellings were relick & relique.  The third-person singular simple present was relics, the present participle relicing or relicking and the simple past and past participle reliced or relicked).

The now familiar general sense of "remains, remnants, that which is left after the loss or ruin of the rest" dates from the early fourteenth century whereas the meaning "something kept as a souvenir, a memento" didn’t emerge until circa 1600.  By the 1590s, the word had, in conversational use, developed the weakened sense of "anything made interesting by its association with the distant past and ten years earlier had come also to describe "surviving trace of some practice, idea etc, a use which later (by 1809) influenced the specific use in history & anthropology: “relic of barbarism” the “survival of a (bad) old custom or condition."  Other words used in this context includes antique, antiquity, artifact, curio, evidence, fragment, keepsake, memento, monument, remains, remnant, souvenir, archaism, curiosity, heirloom, memorial, remembrance, reminder, residue & ruins.

Relict (pronounced rel-ikt)

(1) In biology & ecology, a species or community of animals or plants that exists as a remnant of a formerly widely distributed group in an environment different from that in which it originated (usually as a modifier (eg a relict fauna)).

(2) In geology, a mineral that remains unaltered after metamorphism of the rock in which it occurs.

(3) In geomorphology, a landform (a mountain, lake, glacier etc) formed by either erosive or constructive surficial processes that are no longer active as they were in the past.

(4) A remnant or survivor (rare).

(5) The surviving member of a married couple after one or the other has died; a widow or widower (although in practice the word was only ever applied to widows and is now archaic).

(6) In linguistics, a surviving archaic word, language or other form (technically slightly different from a relic (qv) but in casual use both are often used interchangeably.

(7) In the law of real property, the gradual recession of water from its usual high-water mark so that the newly uncovered land becomes the property of the adjoining riparian property owner.

1525–1535: From the Middle English relicte, from the Medieval Latin relicta (widow), noun use of feminine of the Latin relictus, past participle of relinquere (to relinquish).  Relicte in the sense of a widow, etymologically is "one who is left, one who remains", from the Old French relict (feminine relicte) (person or thing left behind (especially a widow)) and directly from the Medieval Latin relicta (a widow), noun use of feminine of relictus (abandoned, left behind), past-participle adjective from the Latin relinquere (leave behind, forsake, abandon, give up),

Relict came so often to be confused with relic that by 1926, Henry Fowler (1858-1933) noted in his Dictionary of Modern English Usage it had become a word seldom used except in legal documents when referring to a widow (and only lawyers would find the word “widow” unsuitable) and was thus "more often seen than heard", its place as an adjective in Middle English and early modern English (originally "left undisturbed or untouched, allowed to remain" (although used in various senses) long supplanted by relic.  As a technical word in biology, zoology and geology, it remains useful; the noun plural was relicts.

Print of original Heiltumsblätter (woodcut; circa 1496) of the relics of the Holy Roman Empire by Hans Spoerer of Nuremberg, hand-colored, printer's ink on paper, donated to the British Museum in 1916.

In the great cities of the Holy Roman Empire, there were publishers which offered entire relic-books but, parchment and even paper being expensive, as an alternative, pilgrims could purchase Heiltumsblätter (woodcut) reproductions of relics associated with a particular church or shrine.  The single-leaf woodcut illustrating the relics of the relics of the Holy Roman Empire was first printed circa 1480 with a second run of hand-colored versions offered in 1496 and as well as being used for private devotion, being large-scale they could be displayed in public places like churches, where they performed a similar function to indulgence announcements.

The Heiltumsblatt illustrating the relics of the Holy Roman Empire included pieces of the True Cross, thorns from Christ's crown, along with the sword, robe and scepter of Charlemagne (747–814; first Holy Roman Emperor 800-814).  The imperial collection also featured the Holy Lance that tradition stated was used by Longinus to pierce Christ's side after his death; this was a highly prized possession, since it was one of the few contact relics associated with Christ who was said to have left behind no bodily relics.  In 1423, Sigismund of Luxembourg (1368–1437; Holy Roman Emperor 1433-1437) bequeathed the Lance to Nuremberg for safekeeping, where it became the centerpiece of the Heiltumsweisung (sanctuary).  The Holy Lance's size in the woodcut is one indication of its importance, although this was not a mere effect of representation, for its makers claimed that this was a "true copy" of the Lance, which measures 508 x 79 mm (20 x 3.1 inches).

Kunt & Cunt

Kunt (pronounced kuhnt)

(1) In English, a deliberate misspelling of the offensive slang “cunt”, used sometimes in an attempt to avoid sanction or censorship by text-based filters.  

(2) A Turkish surname (meaning “strong or durable” in ancient Turkish and in Ottoman Turkish (as Kunter), “kind man”) with roots in the Germanic.

Pre 900: Kunt & Kunter are surnames in both Turkish and German surname with evidence of historic use as a given name.  In ancient Turkish, Kunt means “strong or durable”, derived from the robustness of the large ropes used to tie the ships to the docks (the appended "er" meaning "soldier" or "man".  In Ottoman Turkish, it meant "kind man".

Kunt is ultimately from the Proto-Germanic kuntǭ, either through the Old High German cunta or a borrowing from the Middle High German kunte, the Old Norse kunta or another (northern) Germanic language and it had a relatively rare application as a descriptor for female genitalia.  All forms ultimately derive from the from the Proto-Germanic kuntǭ.  In Dutch, kunt was the second-person singular present indicative of kunnen and an archaic plural imperative of kunnen.  The Dutch kunnen (to be possible; to be able to; to be available) was from the Middle Dutch connen, cunnen, from the Old Dutch cunnan, from the Proto-West Germanic kunnan, from the Proto-Germanic kunnaną, from the primitive Indo-European ǵneh.

International distribution of the surname Kunt.

Saint Knut's Day (Knut in English also pronounced kuhnt) an alternative form of the historical name Cnut, from the Old Norse Knútr, cognate with Danish Knud and the English Canute) is a festival celebrated in Sweden and Finland on 13 January and interestingly is not marked in Denmark even though it's named after Prince Canute Lavard of Denmark and later associated also with his uncle, Canute the Saint, patron saint of Denmark.  Canute Lavard (Knut Levard in Swedish) was a Danish duke assassinated by his cousin and rival Magnus Nilsson on 7 January 1131, the murderer's intent the usurpation of the Danish throne.  From this act ensued a civil war which led to Knut being declared a saint, 7 January named as Knut's Day.  Because this day was so close to the Feast of the Epiphany (thirteenth day of Christmas), in 1680 as one of a number of reforms, Knut's Day was moved to 13 January, becoming tjugondag Knut (twentieth day of Knut/Christmas).  Some of the rituals are also observed in Finland but in a charming twist, the tradition there includes the "evil knut".

In polite circles, there’s usually such disapprobation attached to the word “cunt” that there’s temptation to find ways to slip it in yet remain unscathed.  The word cunctation (a delay) is one route but sometimes a gift comes in the mail.  The UK’s ambassadors to the United States come and go and tend to be remembered only if already famous for something else (Lord Halifax 1881-1959; UK ambassador to the US 1940-1946), associated with notable events (Sir Roger Makins (later Lord Sherfield) 1904-1996; UK ambassador to the US 1940-1946) or notably eccentric (Sir Archibald Clark Kerr (later Lord Inverchapel) 1882-1951; UK Ambassador to the USSR 1942-1946 & the US 1946-1948).  Memories however fade and Clark Kerr is now best remembered for a note he sent in 1943, while ambassador in gloomy wartime Moscow, to Lord Pembroke (Reginald Herbert; 1880–1960), then working in the Foreign Office in London.  Serendipitously, in 1978 the note was stumbled upon in the Foreign Office’s archives during research into an unrelated matter. 

In these dark days man tends to look for little shafts of light that spill from Heaven. My days are probably darker than yours, and I need, my God I do, all the light I can get. But I am a decent fellow, and I do not want to be mean and selfish about what little brightness is shed upon me from time to time. So I propose to share with you a tiny flash that has illuminated my sombre life and tell you that God has given me a new Turkish colleague whose card tells me that he is called Mustapha Kunt.

We all feel like that, Reggie, now and then, especially when spring is upon us, but few of us would care to put it on our cards. It takes a Turk to do that.

Cunt (pronounced kuhnt)

(1) Vulgar (thought most disparaging and offensive) slang for the vulva or vagina.

(2) A contemptuous term used to refer to a person (although in some cultures it can be applied neutrally or as a term or endearment (usually with an adjectival modifier (eg “a good cunt”) and used in the same way as “bastard”.

(3) A term of disapproval applied to any task or object (especially machinery) which is proving tiresome or difficult to fix, replace, remove etc; an unpleasant or difficult experience or incident.

(4) Sexual intercourse with a woman (archaic, long replaced by “fuck” and a myriad of others).

1275–1325: from the Middle English cunte, conte, counte, queinte, queynt & queynte, from the Old English cunte (female genitalia), from the Proto-Germanic kuntǭ & kunþaz.  It was cognate with the Old Norse kunta, the West Frisian kunte, the Middle Dutch conte (from whence the Dutch kont (butt)), the dialectal Swedish kunta, the dialectal Danish kunte and the Icelandic kunta.  Despite the apparently obvious link with the Latin cunnus (female pudenda (also, vulgarly, "a woman")), etymologists maintain the link has never been established.   

Cunnus is of uncertain etymology but the speculative links include the primitive Indo-European gen & gwen (woman) (most discount any relationship with the primitive Indo-European root geu- (hollow place)) and the primitive Indo-European kutnos (cover), cognate with cutis (skin), a metaphor identical to the one connecting the Latin vulva and English hull, albeit from a different Indo-European root.  Also speculative is a relationship to the Latin cuneus (wedge) or the primitive European (s)ker- (to cut), an evolution from the original sense of “gash” or “slit”.  It does seem counter intuitive there’s no link with the Latin cunnus but etymologists insist there’s simply no evidence and the more likely connection is with the primitive Indo-European root kut (bag; scrotum (and metaphorically also “female pudenda”)), source also of the Ancient Greek kysthos (vagina; buttocks; pouch, small bag (although there is the suggestion this is pre-Greek)), the Lithuanian kutys (money bag) and the Old High German hodo (testicles).

In 2010 nine of the reporters graduating from the University of Utah each wrote a final column for the student newspaper, the Daily Utah Chronicle.  The student newspaper is a practical training tool in the journalism course and one of the techniques learned is the use of the drop-cap (dropped capital), a large (usually two or more lines) capital letter used as a decorative element at the beginning of a paragraph or section.  Noting this, the nine choose to put four columns in vertical alignment on one page, five on another.  The reaction was probably as valuable a lesson in journalism as any the students had learned in all their years of study.  Previously little noted beyond the campus, once the columns appeared, the paper gained world-wide publicity.

The first known instance in English appears to be a compound form, an Oxford street name “Gropecuntlane”, documented circa 1230 (and attested through the late fourteenth century) and presumed by historians and etymologists (who don’t always agree) to indicate the place was a haunt of prostitutes, a hint “cunt” was then thought of as merely descriptive of women in a sexual context without the anatomical specificity it would later gain, something that would seem to have happened by circa 1400 because in that era it appears descriptively in medical texts.  Tying the word explicitly to female genitalia influenced general use; it was avoided in public speech (certainly in the polite circles for which records exist although this does not guarantee the pattern was replicated throughout society) by the fifteenth century and was assuredly thought obscene by the seventeenth.  Further credence to this devolution to the disreputable is that Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400), when in the late fourteenth century writing the Canterbury Tales, used queynte without a hint he was searching for any sense of the vulgar yet within two centuries it was cited as an example of why the work was a byword for the risqué.  The word with the Middle English spelling cunte is in the early fourteenth century poem the Proverbs of Hendyng, featured in a line offering wise advice to young maidens: Ȝeue þi cunte to cunnig and craue affetir wedding (Give your cunt wisely and make (your) demands after the wedding.)

The Australian Linguistic Tradition

Unsurprisingly, the “promotional merchandise” associated with NTUnofficial's “See You in the Northern Territory” campaign did not receive the imprimatur of any level or organ of government.  The range includes wall-posters, bumper stickers, T-shirts and stubbie holders.

Long before it became the “c-word”, there was "female intercrural foramen" or, as some eighteenth century writers would have it “the monosyllable", surely the most exclusively exclusionary euphemism ever.  In less permissive times it troubled many authors and journalists and some, before “c-word” became fashionable, replaced it with something thought less strident (and there’s quite a list, men never having displayed any reticence or imaginative deficit in finding ways to disparage women or take linguistic ownership of their body parts) while other would bowdlerize, usually with variations of c**t, c*nt etc.  Lexicographers seem usually to have included an entry in their fullest or most academic dictionaries, usually with some stress on the word’s almost respectable origins, but it was often omitted from abbreviated editions, missing even from the 1933 edition of the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary.  One publication listed 552 synonyms from English slang and literature and a further half-dozen pages of the better-known from French, Dutch, German, Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese, the poetic expression of the Dutch especially putting the dour English to shame with liefdesgrot (cave of love) & vleesroos (rose of flesh).  In English-speaking countries, "cunt" is now the most offensive swear word and, although the taboo which once proscribed its use in all but among the most linguistically consensual male society has been relaxed, it remains perhaps the last true swear word and only racial (and increasingly gender-based) slurs now attract more disapprobation.  That said, evidence does suggest in certain sub-cultures, use seems at times to be both frequent and obligatory.

One sub-culture in which it's suspected the word is frequently uttered but seldom reported, is the dirty business of politics, conducted in what are still sometimes called "smoke filled rooms", a phrase once not figurative.  Bob Hawke (1929–2019; prime minister of Australia 1983-1991), not long in parliament but more ambitious than most, in 1982 enlisted the support of the Labor Party's then powerful New South Wales (NSW) right-wing "machine" to undermine the ALP's leader, Bill Hayden (b 1933; Leader of the Opposition 1977-1983) whom he famously described as "a lying cunt with a limited future."  It took a couple of goes but in 1983, Hawke prevailed.  Hayden was well acquainted with both the tactics of the NSW right and the place of lies in politics.  Once, when pointing out some inconsistency to the ALP's right-wing powerbroker (the factions preferred the appellation "coordinator") Graham Richardson (b 1949; ALP general secretary (NSW) 1976-1983), Hayden was told "...yes but we were lying to you then, today we're telling the truth."

The Hansard is the record of what is said on the floor of parliament and while not all interjections make it into print, one unrecorded homophonous gem of an exchange in the Australian parliament between Sir Winton Turnbull (1899-1980) and Gough Whitlam (1916–2014; prime minister 1972-1975) deserved to:

Sir Winton Turnbull (Country Party, Mallee): "I’m a country member and…"
Mr Gough Whitlam (ALP, Werriwa): "I remember."

Although use is now curtailed in many workplaces where once it was a standard vernacular form. the word remains a fixture in Australian English and one joke featured former National Party leader Tim Fischer (1946–2019; leader of the National Party of Australia 1990-1999) answering questions at a conference of the party's youth wing:

Delegate: "Mr Fisher, I'm the president of the Rockhampton branch of the Young Nats and I just found out we used to be called the Country Party.  Why did we change the name?"
Fisher: "Well, what to you call the Young Liberal Party?"
Delegate: "The Young Libs, Mr Fisher."
Fisher: "And what do you call the Young Democrats?"
Delegate: "The Young Dems, Mr Fisher."
Fisher: "Well, that's why we changed the name."   

Rita Ora (b 1990) at the House of Holland show, London Fashion Week, September 2014.  Ms Ora combined the t-shirt with an Aztec-style & leopard-print pencil skirt with a box jacket.  Hand-distressed and screen printed in Los Angeles, the Enfants Riches Déprimés t-shirt’s list price was US$225.

Second-wave feminist authors didn’t really add anything not already known, noting it was probably the worst of the many disparaging terms attached to women and although the function of words alluding to women’s conduct (eg bitch, slut) were structurally different from those referencing their anatomy (eg cunt, tits), both were devices casually to dehumanize women by reducing them to stereotypes or body-parts, cunt the most offensive because of the reductionism; the idea that to men the rest of a woman is but a life support-system for the cunt and the sole worthwhile purpose for that, male gratification.  However, despite some activist and academic prodding, the idea that women might reclaim the word never caught the imagination and morphed into a mass-movement in the way the “slut-walks” sought to diminish the power the weaponization of the word “slut” afforded men.  That apparent reticence does suggest that despite recent linguistic permissiveness, “cunt” retains the power to repel most, even if for a good cause as it were.  Thus it endures alone in what used to be a well-populated niche and is now the English language’s last true obscenity and those who use it need to remember the impact relies on rarity, an essential part of it sounding truly obscene.  Just as Joseph Heller (1923–1999) got the most from “fuck” by using it but once in Catch-22’s (1961) 450-odd pages, “cunt” should be English’s nuclear option and if it’s any consolation to women, when used by them, “cunt” can sound its most obscene.

In the matter of Jeremy Hunt MP.

The surname “Hunt” is one which can be mispronounced.  Because of the operation of linguistic assimilation, the chance of mistake heightened if the affectionate diminutive of the given name is used when speaking of a Michael Hunt and script-writers have here and there been tempted.  In the case of a politician like the Conservative Jeremy Hunt (b 1966; UK Chancellor of the Exchequer since 2022), it may be that sometimes the “mistake” is deliberately made as a “coded” political point.  One politician with a name with such possibilities decided to avoid inter-generational transfer of the problem.  UK Labour’s Ed Balls (b 1967) in 2011 revealed his children took his wife’s surname, so to “spare them the bullying that scarred his own childhood.”