Corinthian

Corinthian (kuh-rin-thee-uhn)

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

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

(3) Something ornate and elaborate

(4) In literacy criticism, an ornate style.

(5) Something luxurious or licentious.

(6) A native or inhabitant of Corinth.

(7) Someone given to living luxuriously; dissolute.

(8) An amateur sportsman (archaic).

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

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

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

The triangle tattoo Lindsay Lohan had inked in 2013 was inspired by 1 Corinthians 13:4-8.  In the King James Version (KJV; 1611) it read:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

United States Supreme Court, looking towards the West Pediment.

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

United States Supreme Court, East Pediment.

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

Publicity shot for Chrysler Corporation's 1974 Imperial LeBaron four-door hardtop in chestnut tufted.

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

1975 Imperial LeBaron four door hardtop.

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

1976 Chrysler Cordoba advertisement.  When released as a 1975 model, Chrysler heralded the Cordoba as "the new small Chrysler".  The word "small" is relative, the significance being the departure from the corporation's long-standing policy of the Chrysler brand not appearing on anything except "full-sized cars" but economic reality was biting the 1970s and the big cars were in this last days.  Then (as now), to most of the rest of the world, the Cordoba seemed pretty big. 

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

In the advertising, Mr Montalbán spoke of “the thickly-cushioned luxury of seats, available even in fine Corinthian leather” and although sometimes he’d call it  “soft” instead, all people seemed to remember was the leather was Corinthian.  So successful was the campaign that Chrysler decided to make the Corinthian label exclusive to the Cordoba and when Mr Montalbán was later assigned to advertise other Chryslers, in the same mellifluous tone, he commended only the “rich leather".  Later, when interviewed on late night television, cheerfully he admitted that the term meant nothing but that wasn't quite true: it meant whatever people who heard it wanted it to mean and that made it a perfect word for advertising.

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

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

The Rolls-Royce Camargue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boulevard

Boulevard (pronounced bool-uh-vahrd or boo-luh-vahrd)

(1) A broad avenue in a city, usually with areas at the sides or in the center planted with trees, grass, or flowers, often used as a promenade.

(2) A strip of lawn between a sidewalk (footpath) and the curb (a regionalism from the upper Midwest US & Canada, also called a boulevard strip).

(3) As loosely applied in street names in many cities, usually for wide thoroughfares.

(4) The centre strip of a road dividing traffic travelling in different directions (rare and sometimes applied also to the landscaped sides).

1769: From the French boulevard (broad street or promenade planted with rows of trees), from the Middle French boulevard, bollevart, boulevars, bolevers & bollewerc (promenade, avenue, rampart), either from the Middle High German bolewerc & bolwerc (which endures in modern German as Bollwerk) or the Middle Dutch bolwerc & bollewerc (“bulwark, bastion”), the latter from the Picard, Walloon in the sense of “rampart, avenue built on the site of a razed rampart”, so called because the structures were originally often built on the ruins of old ramparts.  The apparently strange transition from the Middle Dutch bolwerc (wall of a fortification) to the French boulevard, originally (top surface of a military rampart, used as a thoroughfare) is explained by the linguistic tangle of translation, the French language at the time having no “w”, hence the early attempts including boloart, boulever, boloirque & bollvercq.

Lindsay Lohan leaving Boulevard3 nightclub, Los Angeles, 2009.

Although there’s now usually no direct relationship, the idea of boulevards being wider than most streets and with associated landscaping dates from the early promenades being laid out atop demolished city walls, structures which were much wider than the usually narrow urban streets.  The word was adopted in English because there was a frank admiration of the layout of Paris and the Americans picked it up as an obvious differentiation for some of the widest streets of their newer cities although there was sometimes also an element of a wish to emulate European style.  The word is used in many countries with the same French spelling adopted in English although there are variants including the Spanish bulevar and the Turkish bulvar and in Italian the word is sometimes used in the otherwise archaic sense of embankment (a direct inheritance of the sense of “rampart”).  The noun boulevardier dates from 1856 and deconstructed literally means “one who frequents the boulevard”, the implication being ”man-about-town, a city dweller, part of café society”.  Boulevardier was later adopted (also as boulevard cruiser & boulevard car) to describe cars which ape the style of high-speed machines but sacrifice performance for comfort and ease of operation.  In urban cartography & town planning the most common abbreviation is blvd. but bd. & bl. are also used.  Boulevard is a noun and boulevardier is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is boulevards.

The Boulevardier cocktail

Erskine Gwynne (1898-1948) between 1927-1932 was the publisher of Paris Boulevardier, an English-language magazine in the vein of the New Yorker, its market the then quite large colony of Anglo-American expats living in Paris.  While in Paris, Gwynne created a cocktail called the Boulevardier which he suggested was the ideal drink for his readership but it was after it was included in Harry MacElhone’s (1890-1958) book Barflies and Cocktails (1927), that it became popular on both sides of the Atlantic.

Made with whiskey, sweet vermouth and Campari, the Boulevardier is a variation of the classic Negroni, renowned when properly mixed for its deft balance of bitter, boozy and sweet (although some anthologies of cocktails asterisk a proviso that women often prefer them with more vermouth and thus sweeter).  However, while the gin-based Negroni is crisp and refreshing, the whiskey-rich Boulevardier is rich and warming, very much a drink for dark evenings.  Traditionally, it was made with bourbon but there are recipes which use the spicier rye whiskey and, unlike a Negroini where classically the ingredients are in equal parts, a Boulevardier mixes the whiskey in a slightly higher proportion.  It’s served on ice, stirred and garnished with an orange twist.

Ingredients

1 ¼ ounces bourbon whiskey

1 oz Campari

1 oz sweet vermouth

Garnish: orange twist

Instructions

Add bourbon, Campari and sweet vermouth into a mixing glass with ice and stir until well-chilled.  Strain into a rocks glass over fresh ice.  Garnish with an orange twist.

Boulevard cars

1961 Chevrolet Impala SS.

The idea of the “boulevard car” was concocted to describe cars which ape the style of high-speed machines but sacrifice performance for comfort and ease of operation, usually at a lower price; for show rather than go as it were.  Chevrolet had actually institutionalized the concept with what became their popular SS (Super Sport) option pack, released in 1961 as a bundle available for Impalas with high-performance V8s.  It featured both suspension modifications and dress-up items including unique body and interior trim, power steering, power brakes with sintered metallic linings, full wheel covers with a three blade spinner, a passenger grab bar, a console for the floor shift, and a tachometer on the steering column.  In that year, Chevrolet built close to half a million Impalas but only 453 buyers opted for what was (at US$53.80) the bargain-priced SS package, an indication the marketing needed to be tweaked.  The problem was that Chevrolet had intended the 1961 SS live up to its name and it was available only with the 348 & 409 cubic inch (5.7 & 6.7 litre) V8s which could be quite raucous and were notably thirstier than many were prepared to tolerate.  The dealers noted how buyers were drawn to the style but were put off by the specification which demanded much more from the driver that the smaller-engined models which wafted effortlessly along, automatic transmissions by now the default choice for most Impala buyers.

1967 Chevrolet SS427.

So the sales barrier was the implication of the costs attached to the SS bundle rather than the attractiveness.  The headline number of US$53.80 actually included only the "spinner" wheel covers, SS badges, a shiny floor plate for the four-speed's shifter and a Corvette-style grab-bar for the glove-box (Ralph Nadar (b 1934) noted that one).  However, ticking the SS option box triggered a list of "mandatory options" (a seeming oxymoron Detroit came to adore) including wider tyres (with compulsory narrow-band whitewalls), PAS & PB, (power assisted steering & power brakes), LPO (Limited Production Option) 1108 (Police Handling Package, a bundle including HD (heavy-duty) suspension components and sintered metallic brake linings), a steering column mounted 7000 rpm tachometer and a padded dashboard (the last unlikely much to impress Mr Nader).  Having agreed to pay for all that, the buyer then had to decide whether to opt (at progressively increasing cost) for the 348 (with 305, 340 or 350 horsepower (HP)) or 409 (360 HP).  The Powerglide two-speed  automatic transmission was available only with the mildest of the 348s, further limiting the sales potential, the three or four-speed manual otherwise obligatory.  In 1961, it was much more expensive to buy a SS Chevrolet than the US$53.80 on the brochure suggested and however pleasing, it was a long way removed from Chevrolet's traditional place as the low-priced rung on the "Sloan ladder".  The decision was thus taken for 1962 to make the "show" available without the "go" and the SS became an "appearance package", available with even six-cylinder engines.  Sales skyrocketed and between 1962-1969 some 920,000 SS packages were sold for the full-sized line.

1973 Porsche 911T-Lux Targa (left) and 1973 Porsche 911S Targa (right).  The driving experiences were very different but visually, unless closely inspected, it took a well-trained eye to tell the difference. 

GM had noted the dress-up bits were just Chevrolet part-numbers which could be ordered by dealers, some of which received customer requests separately to fit the trim pieces so some 1961 Impalas did to some extent resemble the SS cars though without the high-performance equipment.  It was therefore clear there were more buyers who wanted their Impala to look like a a fast one than were able or prepared to pay for the experience and Chevrolet’s “SS appearance package” proved influential, the approach becoming a a template for the whole industry, spreading internationally, the Porsche 911T Lux (1972-1973) an example.  The entry level 911T was the least powerful of the range and lacked some of the luxury fittings of the more expensive and more powerful 911E & 911S but for those who wanted the fittings but had no desire for the horsepower, the 911T-Lux was created which combined the mechanical specification of the "T" with the trim of the "S", the factory doing exactly what so many of Chevrolet's SS customers settled on after 1962.

Chevrolet’s solution was to become a template for the whole industry which would spend the next decade making, advertising (and, in relatively small numbers, selling) the so-called "muscle cars" which would become so storied.  The muscle-car ecosystem of those years is better documented and more celebrated than any other phase through which Detroit passed yet the numbers of the genuine high performance machines produced was tiny compared to total production of the models upon which they were based.  The experience of 1961 convinced Chevrolet that what most people wanted was not a tyre-melting muscle car (which came with a thirsty, noisy and sometimes cantankerous engine along with what would become prohibitively expensive insurance rates) but one which looked like one.  Splitting the market between drag-strip monsters and boulevard cruisers which could be made to look much the same proved a great success.  For some reason though, late in the decade Chevrolet briefly offered the stand-alone SS 427 in an Impala body but without the Impala badge while, confusingly, the actual Impala could be ordered with both the SS package and the 427 cubic inch (7.0 litre) V8.  Thus there was the SS 427 and the Impala SS 427, the former rather more special and much sought after today so many clones of both have been concocted, leading to a small industry of specialists able to pick real from fake, the difference a matter (in the collector market) of tens of thousands of dollars.

1958 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Roadster. 

Manufacturers had been pursuing the concept even before Chevrolet formalized it in the marketing manual.  Even in the interwar years the coincidently named SS cars (which after 1945 become Jaguar) offered essentially the same racy looking machines in a variety of configurations, some of which delivered the performance the lines promised and some did not, the former thought of as genuine sports cars, the latter we would now call boulevard cruisers.  Jaguar considered pursuing the strategy in the early post-war years before deciding sports cars really should all be sporty and although their saloons would come with engines small and large, the roadsters and coupés would be about both show and go.  Mercedes-Benz understood the attraction the 300SL gullwing (W198) had for buyers but knew also it, and the planned roadster version which would be its replacement, were always going to be too expensive for most and that few of them anyway needed a car which could hit what was in the 1950s a most impressive 150 mph (240 km/h).  What they wanted was a stylish machine which recalled the 300 SL in which to cruise along wide boulevards.

1955 Mercedes Benz 190 SL.

Thus was crafted the 190 SL (W121; 1955-1963), built on the modest platform of the company’s small, four cylinder saloon rather than the exotic space-frame of the 300 SL.  Eschewed too were costly features like dry-sump lubrication and fuel-injection and the engine was barely more powerful than in the saloon but for a boulevard cruiser that was perfect and over an eight-year run, it out-sold the expensive 300 SL roadster a dozen-fold.  There were plans even for a 220 SL, using the 2.2 litre (134 cubic inch) six cylinder from the “pontoon” saloon and prototypes were built but the continuing success of the 190SL and capacity constraints first postponed and finally doomed the project.  Even this had been an attempt not to create a true sports car but instead make the little roadster cruise the boulevards more smoothly and, in the decades which followed, this indeed was the historic course subsequent generations of the SL would follow.  It would not be until the 1990s some SLs again became genuinely fast and in the twenty-first century the factory returned to making versions for which a racetrack would seem a native environment.

Hilt

Hilt (pronounced hilt)

(1) The handle of a sword or dagger.

(2) The handle of many weapons and tools.

(3) In anatomy, the base of the penis.

(4) To furnish with a hilt.

(5) As the idiom “to the hilt”, to the maximum extent or degree; completely; fully.

Pre 900:  From the Middle English hilt, from the Old English hilt & hilte (handle of a sword or dagger); cognate with the Middle Dutch hilt & hilte, the Old Norse hjalt, the Old Saxon helta (oar handle) and the Old High German helza (handle of a sword).  Source was the Proto-Germanic helt, heltą, heltǭ, heltō & hiltijō, probably from the primitive Indo-European kel- (to strike, cut).  One form of the idiom which died out was “up to the hilts”, the plural having exactly the same meaning as the still familiar singular; first noted in the 1670s, it was extinct by the mid-eighteenth century except in Scotland and the border regions of northern England where it survived another hundred-odd years.  The vivid imagery summoned by the expression “to the hilt” is of a dagger stabbed into someone’s heart, the blade buried all the way to the hilt.  The phrase is used to suggest one’s total commitment to something although those training British commandos in such things during World War II (1939-1945) did caution that a blade buried in a victim "to the hilt" could be "difficult to get it out", such were "the contractions of the sinews".  Hilt is a noun & verb, hilting is a verb, hilted is a verb & adjective and hiltless is an adjective; the noun plural is hilts.

Consisting of the pommel, grip & guard, hilt was a European swordsmith’s technical name for the handle of a knife, dagger, sword or bayonet; the once used terms haft and shaft have long been obsolete.  The pommel is the large fitting at the top of the handle, originally developed to prevent the weapon slipping from the grasp but during the late medieval period, swordsmiths began to add weight so they were sufficiently heavy to be a counterweight to the blade.  This had the effect of shifting the point of balance closer to the hilt, the physics of this assisting swordsmanship.  The pommel could also be used as a blunt instrument with which to strike an opponent, something from the German school of swordsmanship known as the Mordhau (or Mordstreich or Mordschlag (literally “murder-stroke” or “murder-strike” or “murder-blow”)) method, a half-sword technique of holding the sword inverted, with both hands gripping the blade while striking one's opponent with the pommel or cross-guard.  The technique essentially makes as sword function as a mace or hammer and in military training was envisaged for use in armoured combat although in the hands of a skilled exponent it could be deadly in close combat.  Some hilts were explicitly designed for this purpose.  Pommel was from the Middle English pommel (ornamental knob or ball, decorative boss), from the Old French pom (hilt of a sword) & pommel (knob) and the Medieval Latin pumellum & pōmellum (little apple), probably via the Vulgar Latin pomellum (ball, knob), diminutive of the Late Latin pōmum (apple).  The use in weaponry came first, the sense of "front peak of a saddle" dating from the mid 1400s and in fifteenth and sixteenth century poetry it also sometimes meant "a woman's breasts".  The gymnast's pommel horse (vaulting horse) is so called by 1908, named for the removable handles, which resemble pommels of a saddle, the use in saddlery noted first in 1887.

Grips still are made almost always of wood or metal and once were usually wrapped with shagreen (untanned tough leather or shark skin) but this proved less durable in climates with high-humidity and in these regions, rubber was increasingly used from the mid-nineteenth century.  Whatever the material, it’s almost always both glued to the grip and wrapped with wire in a helix.  The guard sits between grip and blade.  The guard was originally a simple stop (a straight crossbar perpendicular to the blade (later called a quillon)) to prevent the hand slipping up the blade but later evolved into an armoured gauntlet to protect the wielder's entire hand from an opponent’s sword.  By the sixteenth century, guards became elaborate, now often decorative as well as functional, the innovation of this time being a single curved piece alongside the fingers (parallel with the blade and perpendicular to any cross-guards); it became known as the knuckle-bow.

Lindsay Lohan with saw-tooth edged dagger held at the hilt; from a Tyler Shields (b 1982) photo session, 2013.

The “blood” in this photograph is believed to be “fake blood” of the type used in film & television production; it's a substance with an interesting history.  Before the introduction of color film, the liquid was not red but black or a deep blue because those were the hues which, when using monochrome (ie black & white) or sepia film stock, those were the shades which looked convincingly “red” while true red did not.  In the industry, the stuff variously is called “stage blood”, “theatrical blood”, “Prop blood”, “FX blood” or “SFX blood”.  “FX” is the general term for “effects” while “SFX” refers to “special effects” and there’s also “VFX” which, meaning “visual effects” doesn’t have a blood department.  Chemically, the mix is interesting stuff because there are a number of flavours including (1) edible blood which is safe (though not necessarily pleasant) to ingest (made from water, corn syrup & vegetable-based food coloring, etc), (2) non-edible blood used on clothing and props (it can include detergents, thickeners and even sand), (3) rapid-drying blood designed to simulate dried or clotted blood and (4) flowing blood which is used in scenes with active bleeding so realistic viscosity is needed, the mixes ranging from “squirting” to “flowing”.  Historically, each variety was tailored to the specific lighting conditions in use but with post-production digital editing of brightness, color saturation and such now routine, that’s now less critical.

Great moments in elaborately carved hilts: Ivory hilt for ceremonial sword carved in 1801-1802 by the London firm Rundell, Bridge and Rundell for George IV (1762–1830) King of the United Kingdom 1820-1830).

George IV’s ivory hilt (left) depicts the rescue of Andromeda by Perseus, who descended on his winged horse Pegasus to destroy the fierce dragon tormenting his captive.  The artisans were thought to have been influenced by the ivory carvings which emerged during the mid-seventeenth century from workshops in the Netherlands city of Maastricht when large volumes of ivory were being imported by the Dutch East India Company.  The hilt consists of four separate pieces: (1) pommel and grip (with Perseus and the chained Andromeda), (2) knuckle-guard (with the long neck and mouth of the dragon), (3) quillon-block and rear quillon (the dragon's back and tail) and (4) the (somewhat diminished) shells, carved with the dragon's wings and feet.  The wavy-edged blade was sometimes a feature of ceremonial swords.  In London, the most accomplished of the artisans who worked with ivory were members of the Worshipful Company of Cutlers.

Great moments in elaborately carved hilts: Ivory hilt for hunting sword carved circa 1740 and attributed to German artisan Joseph Deutschmann (1717-1787) for Maximilian III Joseph (1727–1777; Prince-elector of the Holy Roman Empire and Duke of Bavaria 1745-1777).

Prince Maximilian’s ivory hilt is a classic example of the Rococo ornamentation of the era (some were more extravagant) and is thought also to be a piece of unsubtle political messaging, the lion a top the grip holding a crescent moon in its claws, an allusion to recent European victories over the Ottoman Turks on the battlefields of Eastern Europe and, despite being crafted as a “hunting sword”, this blade almost certainly was reserved for ceremonial purposes.  Hunting swords were one-handed weapons which in the mid-twelfth century emerged in Europe as a distinct class.  They were characterized by a relatively short blade and were essentially a sidearm carried when hunting big (and sometimes dangerous) game, their size and weight making them a convenient weapon able quickly to be drawn and swung.  Many single-edged hunting swords featured a saw-like serrated pattern on the back edge; this was another convenience item as hunters utilized this for slicing or sectioning the catch.  The blade shape evolved over the centuries to become narrower on the first two-thirds of its length before at the end widening.  Hunting swords remained in general use well into the eighteenth century.