Ruin

Ruin (pronounced roo-in)

(1) The remains of a building, city etc that has been destroyed or that is in disrepair or a state of decay.

(2) A destroyed or decayed building, town etc.

(3) A fallen, wrecked, or decayed condition; the downfall, decay, or destruction of anything.

(4) The complete loss of health, means, position, hope, or the like.

(5) Some substance or other thing that causes a downfall or destruction; blight.

(6) The downfall of a person; undoing.

(7) A person as the wreck of his or her former self; ravaged individual.

(8) The act of causing destruction or a downfall.

(9) To reduce to ruin; devastate; to bring (a person, company etc) to financial ruin; bankrupt; to damage, spoil, or injure (a thing) irretrievably.

(10) To induce (a woman) to surrender her virginity; deflower; loss of virginity by a woman outside marriage (mostly archaic).

(11) To fall into ruins; fall to pieces; to come to ruin.

1325–1375: From the Middle English noun rueyne & ruyen, from the Middle French ruwine, from the Latin ruīna (headlong rush, fall, collapse, falling down), the construct being ruere (violently to fall) + -īna (feminine singular of suffix –īnus).  The Middle English verb was ruyn & ruine, from the Middle French ruyner & ruiner or directly from the Medieval Latin ruīnāre, again a derivative of the Latin ruīna.  In the late Old English, rueyne meant "act of giving way and falling down" (a sense which didn't descend into the Middle English), again from the Latin ruina, source also of the Old French ruine (a collapse), the Spanish ruina and the Italian rovina which is a derivative of ruere (to rush, fall violently, collapse), from the primitive Indo-European reue- (to smash, knock down, tear out, dig up).  The sense of "descent from a state of prosperity, degradation, downfall or decay of a person or society" dates from the late fourteenth century while the general meaning "violent or complete destruction" (of anything) and "a profound change so as to unfit a thing for use" (of one's principles, one's goods etc) was first noted by the 1670s, something of an extension of the sense of "that which causes destruction or downfall", from the early fifteenth century.  The special meaning "dishonor of a woman" (essentially the same as "a fallen woman") dates from the 1620s.  Ruins in the sense of "remains of a decayed building or town" was from the mid-fifteenth century; the same sense was in the Latin plural noun.

The verb ruin emerged in the 1580s, first in the military sense of "reduce (a place) to ruin," transitive, from the noun ruin or the fourteenth century French ruiner and from the 1610s it came to mean also "inflict disaster upon" (someone) which extended by the 1650s to mean "bring to ruin, damage essentially and irreparably".  The intransitive sense of "fall into ruin" dates from circa 1600 but is probably now obsolete except for poetic use or as a literary device.  The still well-known financial sense of "reduce to poverty, wreck the finances of" was first noted in the 1650s.  The late fourteenth century adjective ruinous (going to ruin, falling to ruin) was from the Old French ruinos (which endures in Modern French as ruineux) and directly from the Latin ruinosus (tumbling down, going to ruin) from ruina.  The meaning "causing ruin, tending to bring ruin" was from the mid-fifteenth century and by 1817 it was understood almost exclusively to mean "excessively expensive", hence the still popular phrase "ruinously expensive".

The noun ruination is interesting.  It meant in the 1660s the "act of bringing to ruin, state of being brought to ruin" amd was the noun of action or state from the now rare or obsolete verb ruinate (to go to ruin) which had emerged in the 1540s from the Medieval Latin ruinatus, past participle of ruinare, again from the Classical Latin ruina.  Unlike flirtation, floatation, & botheration, ruination was not a hybrid derivative, being regularly formed from ruinate, the technical point being etymologists think it has the effect of a slangy emphatic lengthening of the noun ruin and that only because the parent verb ruinate (in common use 1550-1700) is no longer heard.  For that reason Henry Fowler (1858-1933) in his authoritative Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) suggested "ruination is better avoided except in facetious contexts".

As a noun, ruin means the remains of a destroyed or decayed place, especially a half-standing building or city.  In the latter sense, it’s used most commonly in the plural, often as “ancient ruins”.  When used as a verb, ruin usually means “to spoil or destroy” although the once use to describe “the loss of virginity by an unmarried woman” is now rare.  Related words, sometimes used a synonyms, include bankruptcy, wreckage, collapse, insolvency, wreck, extinction, demolition, destruction, wipe out, mar, impoverish, overwhelm, injure, shatter, exhaust, demolish, crush, decimate, wrack & deplete.  The synonym of ruin most often used is destruction.  Ruin and destruction both imply irrevocable and either widespread or intense damage although, the pattern of use in Modern English seems to have evolved to use destruction (on a scale large or small) to emphasize the act while ruin emphasize the consequence: the resultant state.  Through use, there’s probably also the implication that a ruin is the result of natural processes of time whereas destruction suggests a sudden violent act or event.  The ruins from Antiquity exist both in what remains from the process of decay and as they have been "restored", usually to reflect the expectations of tourists.  For those who like the idea of what the original resembled, there's the odd replica. 

Die Ruinenwerttheorie: Albert Speer and the theory of ruin value.

Ruin value is a concept from architectural theory.  It suggests the design of representational architecture should be such that when eventually the structures crumble or collapse, what remains should be aesthetically impressive ruins which will long endure without any need of maintenance.  The idea was promoted by Hitler’s (1889-1945; German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) architect, Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945), who first discussed it while planning for the 1936 Summer Olympics and subsequently published a paper as Die Ruinenwerttheorie (The Theory of Ruin Value).  Underling the idea was not merely the stated rationale for the theory but also the assertion such structures would tend inherently to be better built and more imposing during their period of use.  The notion was supported by Hitler, who planned for such ruins to be a symbol of the greatness of his thousand-year Reich, just as the remains from antiquity were symbolic of Hellenic and Roman civilizations.  Speer and Hitler were quite right in understanding the significance of a civilization’s ruins because as French symbolist writer and proto Surrealist Alfred Jarry (1873–1907) explained: “We shall not have succeeded in demolishing everything unless we demolish the ruins as well.”

Bank of England as a ruin (1830) by draftsman and artist Joseph Gandy (1771–1843).

In his memoirs (Inside the Third Reich, 1969) Speer laid claim to the idea, saying it was an extension of German architect Gottfried Semper's (1803-1879) views on the use of "natural" materials and the avoidance of iron girders.  Speer’s post-war writings however, although invaluable, are not wholly reliable or entirely truthful, even on technical matters such as armaments and architecture.  Ruin value was an older concept and one much-discussed in nineteenth century Europe, the romantic movement in art and architecture much drawn to, if not exactly what antiquity was, then certainly a neo-classical construct of what they imagined it to be.  This fascination even sometimes assumed a built form: a "new ruined castle" was actually built in the Landgraviate of Hesse-Kassel in the eighteenth century and the motif affected the architect commissioned to design the Bank of England building.  When Sir John Sloane (1753-1837) presented the bank's governors with three oil sketches of the planned buildings one of them depicted it as new, another when weathered after a century and a third, what the ruins would look like a thousand years hence.

Architectural ruins, a vision (1798), water color on paper by Joseph Gandy.

A watercolor imagining the Rotunda at the Bank of England (designed by Soane and completed in 1798), drawn in the year of its completion but showing the structure in the style of a Roman ruin.  The small figures of men with pickaxes working around a fire amidst the ruins recall the calciatori of Rome, who pillaged marble from its ancient sites to be burned into lime. This atmospheric watercolor recalls Piranesi's views of ruin with its dramatic point of view, fallen fragments in the foreground.  This drawing was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1832, thirty-four years after it was executed, at the time of Soane’s retirement as architect to the Bank, under the romantic title of Architectural Ruins–A Vision (RA 1832, number 992) and accompanied by lines from Prospero's speech (Act IV, scene 1) in Shakespeare's The Tempest:

The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,

the solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve.

The ruin that never was.  A model of Speer's Volkshalle (people’s hall), centrepiece of Germania, the new capital of the Reich to be built over Berlin.

Speer based his design on a sketch made by Hitler himself in 1925, inspired by the Pantheon in Rome which had been created for an empire that lasted centuries.  Clever use of steel and lightweight concrete behind stone cladding permitted the scale of the structure.  The Volkshalle would have risen some 950 feet (290m), the oculus in the centre of the dome 150 feet (46 metres) in diameter, so big that Michelangelo’s dome of St Peter’s could have been lowered through it.  The volume of the building was such that it would have its own micro-climate and weather patterns; clouds would have formed, and rain drops falling on the masses below.   The Volkshalle symbolized an empire planned to endure a thousand years but the Third Reich fell after barely a dozen years and neither Volkshalle nor Germania were built and at war's end, surrounding the proposed site, Berlin lay in ruins.

Coquetry

Coquetry (pronounced koh-ki-tree or koh-ke-tree)

(1) Actions designed to excite erotic attention, without intending to reciprocate such feelings (now applied exclusively of women towards men); flirtatious teasing.

(2) A display of affectation of amorous interest or enticement (now applied exclusively of women towards men); flirtation.

(3) The behavior or the arts of a coquette.

1650s: The English coquetry (effort to attract from a motive of vanity or amusement, trifling in love) was from the French coquetterie, from the verb coqueter (to flirt).  Coquèterie is the modern spelling, now understood as “vanity, knack for fashion and appearance”.  The suffux –eire was from the Old French –erie and equivalent to -ier +‎ -ie; it was used, inter alia, to denote nouns describing qualities or properties.  Coquetry is a noun, coquet is a noun & verb, coquettish is an adjective and the noun plural is coquetries.

Coquèterie (1911), oil on canvas by Félix Vallotton (1865–1925).  At least one critic translated coquèterie as used by Vallotton as “sauciness”.

The original form in French was the early seventeenth century coquet (a beau (literally “a little cockerel”)), the construct being coq (cockerel) + -et (the masculine diminutive suffix) which came to referred to “someone apparently amorous who seeks to appear romantically attractive out of vanity", a meaning derived from the idea of "to swagger or strut like a cock (although the bird’s reputation for lustfulness may have been influential)).  The word was applied to both sexes but after circa 1700 came to be used exclusively of flirtatious women (who we now call a coquette), the adjective coquettish (resembling a coquette, characterized by coquetry) dating from 1702; the extension of meaning to the point where it extended to become also a pure synonym for flirtation (divorced from purpose), seems not to have developed until the late twentieth century.  In ornithology taxonomy, coquettes are several species of hummingbird in the genus Lophornis, and the Racket-tailed coquette in the genus Discosura.

A coquettish Lindsay Lohan, 2016.

Coquetry is a word which must be used with care because it describes behavior, the art and science of the coquette, not her purpose or intent.  An act of coquetry will always be flirtatious but while it (1) may be deployed to seek courtship, (2) there may be hidden agendas or ulterior motives or (3) she may be doing it just for practice or for no particular reason, there being women for whom coquettishness is either habit or calling.

Naff

Naff (pronounced naf)

(1) Unstylish; lacking taste; unfashionable, usually as “a bit naff”.

(2) As “naff around” or “naff about”, to goof off or fool around (now rare, perhaps obsolete).

(3) To decline a suggestion or request someone to depart (as naff off), once widely used as a journalistic euphemism.

(4) A kind of tufted sea-fowl.

(5) In slang, a range of uses, figurative and euphemistic.

1800s:  Naff has had quite a history.  It’s documented (1) (circa 1845) in slang as a noun meaning "female pudenda" which is though possibly back-slang from “fan”, a shortening of fanny (in the UK sense), circa 1940, meaning "nothing" in the slang of prostitutes' slang and (3) (circa 1959) as a verb, a euphemism for “fuck” in oaths, imprecations, and expletives (as in naff off) and (4) as a (1960s) adjective to convey "vulgar, common, despicable" or just generally “ugly or unattractive” which is said to have been used in 1960s British gay slang for "unlovely" and thence adopted into the jargons of the theatre and the armed forces.  There is one source which suggests it was gay slang for “heterosexual” but it’s undocumented; perhaps among them “unattractive” and “ugly” were synonymous on technical, if not aesthetic grounds.  In one sign of the times, in the early 1980s, the last days before deference finally died, the tabloid press generously reported Princess Anne (b 1950) had told a photographer covering an equestrian event to “naff off” rather than the “fuck off” she, apparently more than once, thought better conveyed her feelings.  He late father would probably have approved though it’s doubtful the Murdoch press will show the same restraint should ever the Duchess of Sussex be so expressive.

The use in the gay community and in entertainment circles is thought possibly from Polari. Brought to England by sailors, Polari is a distinctive English argot, examples of which appear in the record since at least the early seventeenth century.  Historically, it was associated with groups of theatrical and circus performers and in certain gay and lesbian communities and in those communities, some words still survive in their slang.  Although some of its later adoptions were influenced by other languages, most of the vocabulary was derived from Italian, either directly or through the Lingua Franca of Mediterranean ports.  The word was first recorded by researchers in the 1840s and was ultimately from Italian parlare (to speak, talk), source of the English borrowing “parle”.  Polari was also sometimes spelled parlary and pronounced puh-lahr-ee, par-lahr-ee, par·lya·ree, puhl-yahr-ee or pahrl-yahr-ee.

Lycia Naff (b 1962) as the three breasted prostitute (left) in Total Recall (1990), the idea revived on the catwalk, Milan Fashion Week, 2018 (right).

Naff does appear elsewhere but neither (1) the corruption of the Swiss/German surname Neff (perhaps brought to the Middle East by a Crusader or trader) or (2) the Arabic root from a word meaning “one who separates wheat from chaff” are thought to have any link to the use in English.  Naff is the adjective and (the rare) naffness the noun.  There are early (non-vulgar) twentieth century citations of naff as both noun-singular & plural but the form never caught on.  Still, it’s an adaptable word for those attracted: naff, naffness, naffer, naffism, naffology, naffest, naffhead, naffy, naffiest, naffinistic, naffstick, naffily, naffed, & naffing are all there to be used or constructed.  Naff really is quite useful.  None of the vaguely similar words (kitsch, camp, rubbish, unstylish, clichéd, outmoded, inferior, tasteless) convey exactly the same meaning; there’s overlap with many but naff encapsulates nuances of all in a way no other word can.  It possesses a quality best understood by the distinction Susan Sontag (1933–2004) drew in her essay Notes on Camp (Partisan Review, 1964), between “a sensibility” and “an idea”.  Naffness seems a sensibility rather than an idea which lends itself to any precision in definition, a thing which can be sensed when encountered but not defined except in terms either so verbose or abstract as to not be helpful.

Being a sensibility, it’s a thing which can slur across time, some things once fashionable becoming naff and later (allegedly) ironic.

Putsch

Putsch (pronounced poo-ch)

A (usually violent) sudden uprising; a political revolt, especially a coup d'état.

1915:  From the German Putsch, derived from the Swiss or Alemannic German Putsch (knock, thrust, blow) and therefore of imitative origin.  It picked up the meaning “a political coup” in standard German through Swiss popular uprisings of the 1830s, especially the Zurich revolt of September 1839; first noted in English in 1915.

Operation Hummingbird (1934): Crushing the "Röhm Putsch"

Adolf Hitler looking at Ernst Röhm, 1934.

Nacht der langen Messer (Night of the Long Knives), also called Unternehmen Kolbri (Operation Hummingbird) was a purge executed in Nazi Germany between 30 June-2 July 1934, when the regime carried out a number of extrajudicial executions, ostensibly to crush what was referred to as "the Röhm Putsch".  Targets of the purge were those in the Nazi (National-Socialist) movement labelled as identifying with the need to continue the revolution so it would be as much socialist as it was nationalist.  Ironically, at the time, there was no putsch planned although Ernst Röhm (1887–1934; chief of the Sturmabteilung (the stormtroopers (the SA)), head of the four-million strong SA had certainly in the past hinted at one.  A brutal act of mass-murder (the first of many to follow), the Night of the Long Knives was executed with remarkable swiftness and the most generous interpretation is it can be thought a "preventive" rather than a "pre-emptive strike".  Elsewhere in Europe, the events were noted with some alarm although most statesman of the Western democracies came quickly to conclude (in the Westphalian way) it was an "internal German matter" and it was best politely not publicly again to speak of it.  Among Germans, the lesson about the nature of the Nazi state was well-learned.    

Hermann Göring, 1934.

Intended by Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; head of government (1933-1945) & head of state (1934-1945) in Nazi Germany) to be a short, sharp hit with a handful of arrests, Hummingbird suffered the not infrequent fate of operations during the Third Reich: mission creep.  By the time Hummingbird ended in early July, Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS (Schutzstaffel (Security Section (or Squad)) 1929-1945), his henchman Reinhard Heydrich (1904–1942; high-ranking SS official, chief of Reich Security Main Office (Gestapo, Sipo, Kripo & SD 1939-1942) and Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1923-1945 and Hitler's designated successor 1941-1945), then a dynamic force, settled scores and, including collateral damage, the death toll was probably around 180.  Even Hitler thought that a bit much and worried for days there might be consequences but he addressed the parliament, claimed it was a matter of national security and received the thanks of the president for sorting things out.  All’s well that ends well.

The Nazi state was so extreme in its depravity and gangsterism it can be difficult fully to appreciate the enormity of what was done in 1934 and, dreadful as it was, the regime would get worse.  After Nacht der langen Messer, the Nazis cast themselves loose from the moorings of civilization, first drifting, later accelerating towards the holocaust.  The appalling nature of Nacht der langen Messer is best understood by imagining it happening in Australia under vaguely similar circumstances. 

Operation Galah (2018): Crushing the Dutton Putsch

Malcolm Turnbull & Scott Morrison.

At about 4:30am, Malcolm Turnbull and his entourage flew into Brisbane.  From the airport they drove to Federal Police headquarters, where an enraged Turnbull dismissed the police chief and told him he would be shot.  Later that day, he was executed while a large number of other police were arrested.  Turnbull meanwhile assembled a squad of federal police and departed for the northern suburbs hotel where Peter Dutton and his followers were staying.  With Turnbull's arrival around 6:30am, Dutton and his supporters, still in bed, were taken by surprise.  The squad stormed the hotel and Turnbull personally placed Dutton and other prominent Liberal-Party conservatives under arrest. According to Michaelia Cash, Turnbull turned Abbott over to "two detectives holding pistols with safety catches off".  Turnbull ordered Eric Abetz, George Christensen, Kevin Andrews and others in Dutton’s group immediately to be taken outside, put up against a wall and shot.

Christopher Pyne.

Although Turnbull presented no evidence of a plot by Dutton to overthrow his government, he nevertheless denounced the leadership of the conservative faction.  Arriving back at Liberal Party headquarters in Canberra, Turnbull addressed the assembled crowd and, consumed with rage, denounced "the worst treachery in world history". He told the crowd that "…undisciplined and disobedient characters and malcontents" would be annihilated. The crowd, which included party members and some Dutton supporters fortunate enough to escape arrest, shouted its approval.  Christopher Pyne, jumping with excitement, even volunteered to “shoot these traitors".

Julie Bishop & Peter Dutton.

Julie Bishop, who had been with Turnbull in Brisbane, set the final phase of the plan in motion and upon returning to Canberra, telephoned Scott Morrison at 11:00am with the codeword "Galah" to let loose the execution squads on the rest of their unsuspecting victims.  Some 180 enemies of the moderate faction were killed, most by shooting although there were mistakes; the music critic of the Courier Mail was executed because of a filing error when mixed-up with a member of the hard-right faction of the Young Liberals with a similar name.  The Liberal Party sent a wreath to the funeral along with two complementary tickets to a party fundraiser which was a nice gesture.

Eric Abetz & Scott Morrison.

The regime did not limit itself to a purge of the Liberal-Party conservatives.  Having banished some of them from the ministry, Turnbull and Bishop used the occasion to add to the list some moderates he considered unreliable.  Also executed were Barnaby Joyce and two other members of the National Party, apparently just because Turnbull hated them.  Another against whom he had long held a grudge, a former Treasury official, met an especially gruesome fate, his body found in a wood outside Canberra, beaten to death with a vintage mechanical adding machine.

Tony Abbott & Kevin Andrews.

Dutton, along with Tony Abbott, briefly was held in a cell at Liberal Party headquarters while Turnbull considered their fate.  In the end, he decided Dutton and Abbott had to die and, at Turnbull’s behest, Tim Wilson and Trent Zimmermann visited Dutton and Abbott.  Once inside the cell, they handed each of them a pistol loaded with a single bullet and told them they had ten minutes to kill themselves or they would do it for them.  Abbott demurred, telling them, "If I am to be killed, let Malcolm do it himself."  Having heard nothing in the allotted time, Wilson and Zimmermann returned to the cell to find them still alive, Abbott standing in a gesture of defiance, wearing just his Speedos.  They were then both shot dead.

George Christensen.

As the purge claimed the lives of so many prominent members of the party, it could hardly be kept secret.  At first, its architects seemed split on how to handle the event and Morrison instructed police stations to burn "all documents concerning the action of the past two days". Meanwhile, Julie Bishop tried to prevent newspapers from publishing lists of the dead, but at the same time used a radio address to describe how Turnbull had narrowly prevented Dutton and Abbott from overthrowing the government and throwing the country into turmoil.  Then, Turnbull justified the purge in a nationally broadcast speech in the House of Representatives.

“If anyone reproaches me and asks why I did not resort to the regular courts of justice, then all I can say is this. In this hour I was responsible for the fate of the Australian people, and thereby I became the supreme judge of the Australian people. I gave the order to shoot the ringleaders in this treason, and I further gave the order to cauterise down to the raw flesh the ulcers of this poisoning of the wells in our domestic life. Let the nation know that its existence—which depends on its internal order and security—cannot be threatened with impunity by anyone! And let it be known for all time to come that if anyone raises his hand to strike the state, then certain death is his lot”.

Peter Dutton & Malcolm Turnbull, 2016 General Election.

Concerned with presenting the massacre as legally sanctioned, Turnbull had the cabinet approve a measure that declared, "The measures taken to suppress treasonous assaults are legal as acts of self-defence by the State."  Attorney-General Christian Porter, a one-time conservative, demonstrated his loyalty to the regime by drafting the statute which added a veneer of lawfulness.  Signed into law as the Law "Regarding Measures of State Self-Defence", it retroactively legalised the murders committed during the purge.  Australia's legal establishment further capitulated to the regime when a leading legal scholar wrote an article defending Turnbull’s speech. It was named "The Prime-Minister Upholds the Law".  From Yarralumla, the governor-general sent Turnbull a personally-signed letter expressing his "profoundly felt gratitude" and he congratulated the prime-minister for "nipping treason in the bud".

Requiem

Requiem (pronounced rek-wee-um)

(1) In the rituals of churches, (notably the "Requiem Mass" of the Roman Catholic Church), a form of religious service to honor and remember a dead person and celebrate the repose of the souls of the dead.

(2) A musical composition, hymn, or dirge for the repose of the dead (sometimes attached specifically to religious services).

(3) Rest; peace (obsolete).

(4) In Ichthyology, (as requiem shark), any member of the taxonomic family Carcharhinidae (order Carcharhiniformes).

1275-1325: From the Middle English requiem (mass for repose of the soul of the dead), from the Latin requiem, accusative singular of requiēs (rest, repose (after labour)) from the opening of the introit, Requiem aeternam dona eis (Rest eternal grant unto them).  The construct was re- (used here as an intensive prefix) + quies (quiet) (from a suffixed form of the primitive Indo-European root kweie- (to rest; be quiet).  In Latin, the formal descriptions, Missa pro defunctis (Mass for the dead) or Missa defunctorum (Mass of the dead) were both used and requium was the first word of the Mass for the Dead in the Latin liturgy: Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine... (Rest eternal grant them, O Lord...).  In the Roman Catholic Church, the requiem ritual (Roman Missal) was revised during Vatican II and since 1970 has used this phrase as the first entrance antiphon.  Like many of the changes wrought by the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II, 1962-1965, published 1970) the newer rituals weren’t always adopted.  Although Rome pointed out the term Requiem Mass was never official terminology, resistance to replacing it with the preferred Mass of the Resurrection continues to this day.  By the early seventeenth century, requiem was used to describe any dirge or solemn chant for repose of the dead.  Requiem is a noun; the noun plural is requiems.  The adjectives (requiemlike, requiemesque) are non-standard but have been used although no composer of dirges seems ever to have been described as a "requiemist".

Part of Mozart’s original score for the Requiem.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's (1756–1791) Requiem in D minor is probably the best known requiem, famous less for its musical qualities than the legends and myths which surround its composition.  Mozart wrote part of the work in Vienna in late 1791, but it was unfinished at his death on 5 December that year.  A completed version (dated 1792), by Austrian composer and conductor Franz Xaver Süssmayr (1766-1803) was delivered to the noted amateur musician Count Franz von Walsegg (1763–1827) who had commissioned the piece to commemorate the anniversary of his wife's death.

Mozart's Requiem in D minor, Berliner Philharmoniker under Herbert von Karajan (1908–1989), Berlin, 1976.

Constanze Mozart (1782), oil on canvas by Joseph Lange (1751–1831).

Mozart's widow Constanze (1762-1842) was responsible for a number of tales including the claims that Mozart received the commission from a messenger who did not reveal his or the commissioner's identity, and that Mozart came to believe that he was writing the requiem for his own funeral.  Mozart received only half the payment in advance, so upon his death his widow Constanze ensured the work completed by someone else so the balance of the bill could be collected.  Exactly who was responsible for what remains controversial among musicologists and historians although the most usually performed version (Süssmayr) is widely accepted as the standard version.  Adding to the romance attached to Mozart's requiem is that so distraught was the count at the death of his young wife, although himself only 28, he would never re-marry.

Meconium

Meconium (pronounced mi-koh-nee-uhm)

(1) In medicine, the first fecal excretion of a newborn child, composed chiefly of bile, mucus, and epithelial cells; it accumulates in the fetal intestines, manifesting as dark green mucoid material.

(2) In zoology, a dark green mass, the contents of the fetal intestines during the later stages of mammalian gestation, that forms the first feces of the newborn

(3) In entomology, the fecal mass released at pupation by the larvae of some insects.

(4) The milky sap of the unripe seed pods of the opium poppy; crude opium, sometimes called opium juice.

(5) Slang for opium (obsolete).

1595–1605: From the New Latin, from Classical Latin mēcōnium (opium; excrement of a newborn child), from the Ancient Greek μηκώνιον (mēkṓnion) (poppy-juice; opium”), from μήκων (mḗkōn) (poppy).  The Ancient Greek mēkōnion & mēkōn may be related to the Old Church Slavonic maku & the German Mohn and many etymologists support this although it’s not impossible both are of pre-Greek origin, one noting the consensus among botanists that the opium poppy is of Mediterranean origin and the word may later have entered the primitive lndo-European at a later date.  The fecal discharge was so called by classical physicians for its resemblance to the pappy sap, the notion later adopted by entomologists and zoologists to describe the same phenomenon respectively in some insects and mammals.  In chemistry, meconin is an anhydride of meconinic acid (found in opium).  The adjective meconic was first documented in the sense of “pertaining to or derived from the poppy” in 1818 in reference to an acid obtained from opium, and the French meconine exists in the literature as an alternative to the English form meconin.  However, it’s noted meconic may long have been in oral use among physicians.  In Hellenic medicine, mēkōnion came to be used to describe an infant's first excrement because of similarity in colour to the sap of the opium poppy (mēkōn) which had long been so-named.  In human gestation (and of mammals generally & even some insects), a little of the substance called meconium collects lower in the intestines and is discharged at birth.  Meconium is a noun and meconic & meconial are adjectives; perhaps thankfully, it seems there's no adverb.  The noun plural is meconiums.

One charming linguistic coincidence is that the anagram of meconium (baby shit) is encomium which means, inter alia, “a formal speech delivering praise”, the connection between the two not unfamiliar to those who have heard many such insincere orations.  Economium was from the Latin encōmium (praise, eulogy), from the Ancient Greek ἐγκώμιον (enkṓmion) (laudatory ode, praise), from ἐγκώμιος (enkṓmios) (of or pertaining to the victor), from κῶμος (kômos), (festival, revel, ode).  One obstetrician nominated the Ferrari paint color Verde Medio Nijinsky (medium green Nijinsky (Italver)) as a fine way to illustrate to medical students the shade of green a healthy infant’s meconium should display.  It’s probably more pleasing than a photograph (and certainly a sample) of the real thing.

Lester Piggott in green, red & yellow silks, aboard Nijinsky, 1970.

The Ferrari factory named Verde Medio Nijinsky after Nijinsky (Nijinsky II, 1967–1992, by Northern Dancer out of Flaming Page), a Canadian-bred, Irish-trained Thoroughbred.  In 1970, trained by Vincent O'Brien (1917-2009) and ridden by Lester Piggott (1935–2022), he was the twelfth winner of the English Triple Crown (run since 1853 and comprising (1) the 2,000 Guineas Stakes (run over 1 mile (1,609 m) at Newmarket, (2) the Derby (1 mile, 4 furlongs & 10 yards (2,423 m) at Epsom & the St Leger Stakes (1 mile, 6 furlongs & 132 yards (2,937 m) at Town Moor)).  No horse has since won the English Triple Crown and Aidan O'Brien (b 1969), who in 1996 took over Vincent O'Brien’s Ballydoyle stables, was not related to his predecessor.  The link between horse and factory paint chart was in the colors of the silks worn by the jockey; Piggott’s shade of green chosen for Verde Medio Nijinsky.  Ferrari during the 1960s offered almost thirty colors named after Thoroughbreds, a few of the more lyrical being Bianco Tetratema (1.441.110), Grigio Ortello (2.443.813), Blu Caracalla (2.666.901), Blu Turchese Molvedo (2.443.632) & Verde Sea-Bird (2.665.902).

Major Count Francesco Baracca with his SPAD S-XIII (left), the prancing horse on the fuselage base of that on his family’s coat of arms (right).

The link between horses and the Cavallino Rampante ((little) prancing horse) escutcheon chosen by Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) for both the Scuderia Ferrari team and later the cars he would build lies in a meeting il Commendatore had with the mother of Major Count Francesco Baracca (1888–1918), Italy's top fighter ace of World War I (1914-1918).  The count had emblazoned on the side of his aircraft a horse rearing on its rear hooves, a stylized variation of that which appeared on his family’s coat of arms and in Italian heraldry the prancing horse was of some significance, dating from 1692 when it appeared on the standard of Victor Amadeus II (1666–1732; Duke of Savoy 1675-1730 & King of Piedmont-Sardinia 1720-1730) of Savoy’s Royal Piedmont cavalry regiment.  The horse on the fuselage was originally red, but was repainted black on one of the count’s surviving fighters following his death in aerial combat.  A myth later arose Rolls-Royce had followed the precedent, switching the lettering on their radiator emblem from red to black to mark the death in 1933 of Sir Henry Royce (1863-1933) but although usually red, Rolls-Royce had often used black and other colors; the change in 1933 was aesthetic rather than romantic, the feeling that a dark hue would better suit the colors owners tended to choose for the coach-work and Sir Henry had endorsed the decision well before his death.  It was mere coincidence he died the same year as the change.

Alfa Romeo 8C Monza, Spa Francorchamps, Belgium, 1932.

Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) and Giulio Ramponi (1902–1986) in June 1923 won the first Grand Prix at the Savio Circuit in Ravenna, driving an Alfa Romeo RL-Targa Florio.  As part of the ceremony following the race, Count Enrco Baracca (1855-1936), father of the aviator, "entrusted" Ferrari with the image of the prancing horse to carry on the memory of his late son, later introducing him to the pilot’s mother, Countess Paolina Baracca.  It was the countess who suggested adding the symbol to his cars, assuring him it would bring good luck.  Alfa-Romeo’s corporate policies prevented an immediate use of the prancing horse but in 1929, Enzo Ferrari created Auto Avio Costruzioni (later to become Scuderia Ferrari) as a separate racing team although one still affiliated with Alfa Romeo and in 1932 permission finally was received for the symbol to adorn the cars.  On that day in 1932, fielding a pair of Alfa-Romeo 8C Monzas at Belgium’s Spa Francorchamps, the scuderia was again victorious, vindicating the faith the countess had shown and the prancing horse continued to be displayed until 1939 when Ferrari began his own car-making operation.  Squabbles and the war intervened but in 1947, Ferrari displayed the 125S (1.5 litre (91 cubic inch) Colombo V12, thus 125 cm³ per cylinder, the origin of the factory’s original naming convention) with the equine logo, although subtly modified, the tail now upturned (al la the Baracca coat of arms) the beast more sinuous and the background the canary yellow of Modena where il Commendatore had based his operation.  The prancing horse has adorned every Ferrari since.

1972 Ferrari 365 GTC/4 (Typo F101) in Verde Medio Nijinsky over beige leather (left) and Ferrari 365 GTB/4 Coupé (with Borrani wire-wheels) in Rosso Corsa (Racing Red) over tan leather (right).

Although now regarded as a classic of the era, the 365 GTC/4 lives still in the shadow of the illustrious 365 GTB/4 with which, mechanically, it shares much.  The GTB/4 picked up the nickname “Daytona”, an opportunistic association given 1-2-3 finish in the 1967 24 Hours of Daytona involved three entirely different models while the GTC/4 enjoyed only the less complementary recognition of being labeled by some il gobbone (the hunchback) or quello alla banana (the banana one).  It was an unfair slight and under the anyway elegant skin, the GTB/4 & GTC/4 shared much, the engine of the latter differing mainly in lacking the dry-sump lubrication and the use of six twin-choke side-draft Weber carburetors (type 38DCOE59/60) rather than the downdrafts, this permitting a lower hood (bonnet) line.  Revisions to the cylinder heads allowed the V12 to be tuned to deliver torque across a broad rev-range rather than the focus on top-end power which was one of the things which made the GTB/4 so intoxicating.  One quirk in the specification of the Daytona was, unusually for a front-engined car, it used a rear-mounted transaxle to provide optimal weight distribution, reflecting the emphasis on performance. 

Runner-up & winner, 2015 Miss Universe Contest.  Ariadna María Gutiérrez Arévalo (b 1993), Miss Colombia 2014 & first runner-up (left) and Pia Alonzo Wurtzbach (b 1989), Miss Philippines 2015 & Miss Universe 2015 (right).  

Criticizing the GTC/4 because it doesn’t quite have the visceral appeal of the GTB/4 seems rather like casually dismissing the model who managed only to be runner-up to Miss Universe.  The two cars anyway, despite sharing a platform with the same wheelbase and track, were intended for different purposes, the GTB/4 a high performance road car which could, with relatively few modifications, be competitive in racing whereas the GTC/4 was a grand tourer, even offering occasional rear seating for two (short or uncomplaining) people.  One footnote in the history of the marque is the GTC/4 was the last Ferrari offered with the lovely Borrani triple-laced wire wheels; some GTB/4s had them fitted by the factory and a few more were added by dealers but the factory advised that with increasing weight, tyres with much superior grip and higher speeds, they were no longer strong enough in extreme conditions and the cast aluminum units should be used if the car was to be run in environments without speed restrictions such as race tracks or certain de-restricted public roads (then seen mostly in West Germany (FRG), Montana & Nevada in the US and Australia's Northern Territory & outback New South Wales (NSW)).  A Ferrari in Verde Medio Nijinsky is a rarity but does illustrate how well colors other than the dominant red can suit the lines.  A Ferrari in white or navy blue can be a revelation.

Cinderella.  As a design, the once neglected GTC/4 really should be compared with the other big 2+2 coupés of the era, exotic and otherwise.  Whatever the extent of the mechanical similarity, the GTB/4 was a thing of a certain time and place which both allowed and dictated something more uncompromising.  The still stunning GTB/4 was the evolutionary apex of its species; it can't be improved upon but the GTC/4 is no ugly sister and when contemplating quello alla banana, one might reflect on the sexiness of the fruit.

Verde Medio Nijinsky is a neglected color: 1972 Ferrari 365 GTC/4 (left), a matching Lindsay Lohan (centre), rendered in AI (artificial intelligence) as “The Incredible Hulk” by Stable Diffusion (centre) and 1974 Dino 246 GTS (right); Ferrari finished only three Dino 246s in Verde Medio Nijinsky.

Cover of Candy-O (1979) by The Cars (left) and the photograph on which the cover-art was based (right).

Years after production ended, the 365 GTC/4 earned an unusual place in the history of pop culture when a line-art rendering of one appeared on the cover of Candy-O, the second album by US rock band The Cars (formed 1976).  The artwork was created by Peruvian-American painter of pin-ups Alberto Vargas (1896–1982) who, as well as being acknowledged as the definitive exponent of what came to be called “cheesecake girls”, was between 1956-1958, a judge for the Miss Universe beauty contest.  Mr Vargas came out of retirement for the commission, induced apparently by a niece who was a fan of the music, something with which he was at the time wholly unacquainted.  The artist’s technique required a photograph on which he could base the image so a photo-shoot was arranged at a nearby Ferrari dealership which, perhaps surprisingly, agreed to have the statuesque, stiletto clad model sprawl over the hood of a 365 GTC/4 then on the lot.  There’s no mention of damage to the Rosso Nearco paint so all's well that ends well.  Nearco (1935–1957) was a famous Italian thoroughbred and the factory paint code was 2.664.032; it was a subtly-metallic shade of red rather darker than the classic Rosso Corsa.

Candy Moore adorning Ferrari 365 GTC/4 in Rosso Nearco, Candy-O photo shoot session, Beverly Hills, Los Angeles, 1979.  This was the pre-digital era and photographers used physical film stock although the highly flammable celluloid had by then been replaced by acetate-based “safety film”.

The model in the photo shoot (a substitute after the original had second thoughts upon seeing the scantiness of the outfit) was Candy Moore (who later appeared in the movie Lunch Wagon (1981)) but the name was a coincidence, the album’s title (and sixth track on side one of the original release) locked in long before the shoot.  As is usually the case with photo-shoots, many images were taken and one of the determining factors in the choice was its compositional suitability for use on the 12.375 inch (314.3 mm) square format of album art, the one selected among the last on the roll.  Mr Vargas, being a cheesecake artist, of course used a little licence in his interpretation and (with all due respect to the lovely Ms Moore) few would claim his enhancements don’t add to the appeal.  The other coincidence attached to the model’s name is she’s often confused with the actress Candace Lee Klaasen (b 1947) who worked under the stage name Candy Moore, appearing in well-known television series including Leave It to Beaver, and The Lucy Show.  Surprisingly, even the usually accurate IMDb (Internet Movie Database) gets the two mixed-up.