Tuesday, June 11, 2024

Ultracrepidarian

Ultracrepidarian (pronounced uhl-truh-krep-i-dair-ee-uhn)

Of or pertaining to a person who criticizes, judges, or gives advice outside their area of expertise

1819: An English adaptation of the historic words sūtor, ne ultra crepidam, uttered by the Greek artist Apelles and reported by the Pliny the Elder.  Translating literally as “let the shoemaker venture no further” and sometimes cited as ne supra crepidam sūtor judicare, the translation something like “a cobbler should stick to shoes”.  From the Latin, ultra is beyond, sūtor is cobbler and crepidam is accusative singular of crepida (from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís)) and means sandal or sole of a shoe.  Ultracrepidarian is a noun & verb and ultracrepidarianism is a noun; the noun plural is ultracrepidarians.  For humorous purposes, forms such as ultracrepidarist, ultracrepidarianish, ultracrepidarianize & ultracrepidarianesque have been coined; all are non-standard.

Ultracrepidarianism describes the tendency among some to offer opinions and advice on matters beyond their competence.  The word entered English in 1819 when used by English literary critic and self-described “good hater”, William Hazlitt (1778–1830), in an open letter to William Gifford (1756–1826), editor of the Quarterly Review, a letter described by one critic as “one of the finest works of invective in the language” although another suggested it was "one of his more moderate castigations" a hint that though now neglected, for students of especially waspish invective, he can be entertaining.  The odd quote from him would certainly lend a varnish of erudition to trolling.  Ultracrepidarian comes from a classical allusion, Pliny the Elder (circa 24-79) recording the habit of the famous Greek painter Apelles (a fourth century BC contemporary of Alexander the Great (Alexander III of Macedon, 356-323 BC)), to display his work in public view, then conceal himself close by to listen to the comments of those passing.  One day, a cobbler paused and picked fault with Apelles’ rendering of shoes and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the sandal’s errant straps.  Encouraged, the amateur critic then let his eye wander above the ankle and suggested how the leg might be improved but this Apelles rejected, telling him to speak only of shoes and otherwise maintain a deferential silence.  Pliny hinted the artist's words of dismissal may not have been polite.

So critics should comment only on that about which they know.  The phrase in English is usually “cobbler, stick to your last” (a last a shoemaker’s pattern, ultimately from a Germanic root meaning “to follow a track'' hence footstep) and exists in many European languages: zapatero a tus zapatos is the Spanish, schoenmaker, blijf bij je leest the Dutch, skomager, bliv ved din læst the Danish and schuster, bleib bei deinen leisten, the German.  Pliny’s actual words were ne supra crepidam judicaret, (crepidam a sandal or the sole of a shoe), but the idea is conveyed is in several ways in Latin tags, such as Ne sutor ultra crepidam (sutor means “cobbler”, a word which survives in Scotland in the spelling souter).  The best-known version is the abbreviated tag ultra crepidam (beyond the sole), and it’s that which Hazlitt used to construct ultracrepidarian.  Crepidam is from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpísand has no link with words like decrepit or crepitation (which are from the Classical Latin crepare (to creak, rattle, or make a noise)) or crepuscular (from the Latin word for twilight); crepidarian is an adjective rare perhaps to the point of extinction meaning “pertaining to a shoemaker”.

The related terms are "Nobel disease" & "Nobel syndrome" which are used to describe some of the opinions offered by Nobel laureates on subjects beyond their specialization.  In some cases this is "demand" rather than "supply" driven because, once a prize winner is added to a media outlet's "list of those who comment on X", they are sometimes asked questions about matters of which they know little.  This happens because some laureates in the three "hard" prizes (physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine) operate in esoteric corners of their discipline; asking a particle physicist something about plasma physics on the basis of their having won the physics prize may not elicit useful information.  Of course those who have won the economics or one of what are now the DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) prizes (peace & literature) may be assumed to have helpful opinions on everything.

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

In 1973, when a million dollars was a still lot of money, the National Gallery of Australia, a little controversially, paid Aus$1.3 million for Jackson Pollock’s (1912-1956) Number 11, 1952, popularly known as Blue Poles since it was first exhibited in 1954, the new name reputedly chosen by the artist.  It was some years ago said to be valued at up to US$100 million but, given the increase in the money supply (among the rich who trade this stuff) over the last two decades odd, that estimate may now be conservative and some have suggested as much as US$400 million might be at least the ambit claim.

Number 11 (Blue poles, 1952), Oil, enamel and aluminum paint with glass on canvas.

Blue Poles emerged during Pollock’s "drip period" (1947-1950), a method which involved techniques such throwing paint at a canvas spread across the floor.  The art industry liked these (often preferring the more evocative term "action painting") and they remain his most popular works, although at this point, he abandoned the dripping and moved to his “black porings phase” a darker, simpler style which didn’t attract the same commercial interest.  He later returned to more colorful ways but his madness and alcoholism worsened; he died in a drink-driving accident.

Alchemy (1947), Oil, aluminum, alkyd enamel paint with sand, pebbles, fibers, and broken wooden sticks on canvas.

Although the general public remained uninterested (except by the price tags) or sceptical, there were critics, always drawn to a “troubled genius”, who praised Pollock’s work and the industry approves of any artist who (1) had the decency to die young and (2) produced stuff which can sell for millions.  US historian of art, curator & author Helen A Harrison (b 1943; director (1990-2024) of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, the former home and studio of the Abstract Expressionist artists Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in East Hampton, New York) is an admirer, noting the “pioneering drip technique…” which “…introduced the notion of action painting", where the canvas became the space with which the artist actively would engage”.  As a thumbnail sketch she offered:

Number 14: Gray (1948), Enamel over gesso on paper.

Reminiscent of the Surrealist notions of the subconscious and automatic painting, Pollock's abstract works cemented his reputation as the most critically championed proponent of Abstract Expressionism. His visceral engagement with emotions, thoughts and other intangibles gives his abstract imagery extraordinary immediacy, while his skillful use of fluid pigment, applied with dance-like movements and sweeping gestures that seldom actually touched the surface, broke decisively with tradition. At first sight, Pollock's vigorous method appears to create chaotic labyrinths, but upon close inspection his strong rhythmic structures become evident, revealing a fascinating complexity and deeper significance.  Far from being calculated to shock, Pollock's liquid medium was crucial to his pictorial aims.  It proved the ideal vehicle for the mercurial content that he sought to communicate 'energy and motion made visible - memories arrested in space'.”

Number 13A: Arabesque (1948), Oil and enamel on canvas.

Critics either less visionary or more fastidious seemed often as appalled by Pollock’s violence of technique as they were by the finished work (or “products” as some labelled the drip paintings), questioning whether any artistic skill or vision even existed, one finding them “…mere unorganized explosions of random energy, and therefore meaningless.”  The detractors used the language of academic criticism but meant the same thing as the frequent phrase of an unimpressed public: “That’s not art, anyone could do that.”

Number 1, 1949 (1949), Enamel and metallic paint on canvas. 

There have been famous responses to that but Ms Harrison's was practical, offering people the opportunity to try.  To the view that “…people thought it was arbitrary, that anyone can fling paint around”, Ms Harrison conceded it was true anybody could “fling paint around” but that was her point, anybody could, but having flung, they wouldn’t “…necessarily come up with anything.”  In 2010, she released The Jackson Pollock Box, a kit which, in addition to an introductory text, included paint brushes, drip bottles and canvases so people could do their own flinging and compare the result against a Pollock.  After that, they may agree with collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) that Pollock was “...the greatest painter since Picasso” or remain unrepentant ultracrepidarians.  Of course, many who thought their own eye for art quite well-trained didn't agree with Ms Guggenheim.  In 1945, just after the war, Duff Cooper (1890–1954), then serving as Britain's ambassador to France, came across Pablo Picasso (1881–1973) leaving an exhibition of paintings by English children aged 5-10 and in his diary noted the great cubist saying he "had been much impressed".  "No wonder" added the ambassador, "the pictures are just as good as his".   

Helen A Harrison, The Jackson Pollock Box (Cider Mill Press, 96pp, ISBN-10:1604331860, ISBN-13:978-1604331868).

Dresses & drips: Three photographs by Cecil Beaton (1904-1980), shot for a three-page feature in Vogue (March 1951) titled American Fashion: The New Soft Look which juxtaposed Pollock’s paintings hung in New York’s Betty Parsons Gallery with the season’s haute couture by Irene (1872-1951) & Henri Bendel (1868-1936).

Beaton choose the combinations of fashion and painting and probably pairing Lavender Mist (1950, left) with a short black ball gown of silk paper taffeta with large pink bow at one shoulder and an asymmetrical hooped skirt by Bendel best illustrates the value of his trained eye.  Critics and social commentators have always liked these three pages, relishing the opportunity to comment on the interplay of so many of the clashing forces of modernity: the avant-garde and fashion, production and consumption, abstraction and representation, painting and photography, autonomy and decoration, masculinity and femininity, art and commerce.  Historians of art note it too because it was the abstract expressionism of the 1940s which was both uniquely an American movement and the one which in the post-war years saw the New York supplant Paris as the centre of Western art.  There have been interesting discussions about when last it could be said Western art had a "centre".

Eye of the beholder: Portrait of Lindsay Lohan in the style of Claude Monet at craiyon.com and available at US$26 on an organic cotton T-shirt made in a factory powered by renewable energy.

Whether the arguments about what deserves to be called “art” began among prehistoric “artists” and their critics in caves long ago isn’t known but it’s certainly a dispute with a long history.  In the sense it’s a subjective judgment the matter was doubtless often resolved by a potential buyer declining to purchase but during the twentieth century it became a contested topic and there were celebrated exhibits and squabbles which for decades played out before, in the post modern age, the final answer appeared to be something was art if variously (1) the creator said it was or (2) an art critic said it was or (3) it was in an art gallery or (4) the price tag was sufficiently impressive.

So what constitutes “art” is a construct of time, place & context which evolves, shaped by historical, cultural, social, economic, political & personal influences, factors which in recent years have had to be cognizant of the rise of cultural equivalency, the recognition that Western concepts such as the distinction between “high” (or “fine”) art and “folk” (or “popular”) art can’t be applied to work from other traditions where cultural objects are not classified by a graduated hierarchy.  In other words, everybody’s definition is equally valid.  That doesn’t mean there are no longer gatekeepers because the curators in institutions such as museums, galleries & academies all discriminate and thus play a significant role in deciding what gets exhibited, studied & promoted, even though few would now dare to suggest what is art and what is not: that would be cultural imperialism.

In the twentieth century it seemed to depend on artistic intent, something which transcended a traditional measure such as aesthetic value but as the graphic art in advertising and that with a political purpose such as agitprop became bigger, brighter and more intrusive, such forms also came to be regarded as art or at least worth of being studied or exhibited on the same basis, in the same spaces as oil on canvas portraits & landscapes.  Once though, an unfamiliar object in such places could shock as French painter & sculptor Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) managed in 1917 when he submitted a porcelain urinal as his piece for an exhibition in New York, his rationale being “…everyday objects raised to the dignity of a work of art by the artist's act of choice.”  Even then it wasn’t a wholly original approach but the art establishment has never quite recovered and from that urinal to Dadaism, to soup cans to unmade beds, it became accepted that “anything goes” and people should be left to make of it what they will.  Probably the last remaining reliable guide to what really is "art" remains the price tag.

1948 Cisitalia 202 GT (left; 1947-1952) and 1962 Jaguar E-Type (1961-1974; right), Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York City.

Urinals tend not to be admired for their aesthetic qualities but there are those who find beauty in things as diverse as mathematical equations and battleships.  Certain cars have long been objects which can exert an emotional pull on those with a feeling for such things and if the lines are sufficiently pleasing, many flaws in engineering are often overlooked.  New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) acknowledged in 1972 that such creations can be treated as works of art when they added a 1948 Cisitalia 202 GT finished in “Cisitalia Red” (MoMA object number 409.1972) to their collection, the press release noting it was “…the first time that an art museum in the U.S. put a car into its collection.”  Others appeared from time-to-time and while the 1953 Willys-Overland Jeep M-38A1 Utility Truck (MoMA object number 261.2002) perhaps is not conventionally beautiful, its brutish functionalism has a certain simplicity of form and in the exhibition notes MoMA clarified somewhat by describing it as a “rolling sculpture”, presumably in the spirit of a urinal being a “static sculpture”, both to be admired as pieces of design perfectly suited to their intended purpose, something of an art in itself.  Of the 1962 Jaguar E-Type (XKE) open two seater (OTS, better known as a roadster and acquired as MoMA object number 113.996), there was no need to explain because it’s one of the most seductive shapes ever rendered in metal.  Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) attended the 1961 Geneva Motor Show (now defunct) when the Jaguar staged its stunning debut and part of E-Type folklore is he called it “the most beautiful car in the world”.  Whether those words ever passed his lips isn’t certain because the sources vary slightly in detail and il Commendatore apparently never confirmed or denied the sentiment but it’s easy to believe and many to this day agree just looking at the thing can be a visceral experience.  The MoMA car is finished in "Opalescent Dark Blue" with a grey interior and blue soft-top; there are those who think the exhibit would be improved if it was in BRG (British Racing Green) over tan leather but anyone who finds a bad line on a Series 1 E-Type OTS is truly an ultracrepidarian.   

Monday, June 10, 2024

Inkhorn

Inkhorn (pronounced ingk-hawrn)

A small container of horn or other material (the early version would literally have been hollowed-out horns from animals), formerly used to hold writing ink.

1350-1400: From the Middle English ynkhorn & inkehorn (small portable vessel, originally made of horn, used to hold ink), the construct being ink +‎ horn.  It displaced the Old English blæchorn, which had the same literal meaning but used the native term for “ink”.  It was used attributively from the 1540s as an adjective for things (especially vocabulary) supposed to be beloved by scribblers, pedants, bookworms and the “excessively educated”).  Inkhorn, inkhornery & inkhornism are nouns, inkhornish & inkhornesque are adjectives and inkhornize is a verb; the noun plural is inkhorns.

Ink was from the Middle English ynke, from the Old French enque, from the Latin encaustum (purple ink used by Roman emperors to sign documents), from the Ancient Greek ἔγκαυστον (énkauston) (burned-in”), the construct being ἐν (en) (in) + καίω (kaíō) (burn). In this sense, the word displaced the native Old English blæc (ink (literally “black” because while not all inks were black, most tended to be).  Ink came ultimately from a Greek form meaning “branding iron”, one of the devices which should make us grateful for modern medicine.  Because, in addition to using the kauterion to cauterize (seal wounds with heat), essentially the same process was used to seal fast the colors used in paintings.  Then, the standard method was to use wax colors fixed with heat (encauston (burned in)) and in Latin this became encaustum which came to be used to describe the purple ink with which Roman emperors would sign official documents.  In the Old French, encaustum became enque which English picked up as enke & inke which via ynk & ynke, became the modern “ink”.  Horn was from the Middle English horn & horne, from the Old English horn, from the Proto-West Germanic horn, from the Proto-Germanic hurną; it was related to the West Frisian hoarn, the Dutch hoorn, the Low German Hoorn, horn, the German, Danish & Swedish horn and the Gothic haurn.  It was ultimately from the primitive Indo-European r̥h-nó-m, from erh- (head, horn) and should be compared with the Breton kern (horn), the Latin cornū, the Ancient Greek κέρας (kéras), the Proto-Slavic sьrna, the Old Church Slavonic сьрна (sĭrna) (roedeer), the Hittite surna (horn), the Persian سر (sar) and the Sanskrit शृङ्ग (śṛṅga) (horn

Inkhorn terms & inkhorn words

The phrase “inkhorn term” days from the 1530s and was used to criticize the use of language in an obscure or way difficult for most to understand, usually by an affected or ostentatiously erudite borrowing from another language, especially Latin or Greek.  The companion term “inkhorn word” was used of such individual words and in modern linguistics the whole field is covered by such phrases as “lexiphanic term”, “pedantic term” & “scholarly term”, all presumably necessary now inkhorns are rarely seen.  Etymologists are divided on the original idea behind the meaning of “inkhorn term” & “inkhorn word”.  One faction holds that because the offending words tended to be long or at least multi-syllabic, a scribe would need more than once to dip their nib into the horn in order completely write things down while the alternative view is that because the inkhorn users were, by definition, literate, they were viewed sometimes with scepticism, one suspicion they used obscure or foreign words to confuse or deceive the less educated.  The derived forms are among the more delightful in English and include inkhornism, inkhornish, inkhornery inkhornesque & inkhornize.  The companion word is sesquipedalianism (a marginal propensity to use humongous words).

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

Inkhorn words were in the fourteenth & fifteenth centuries known also as “gallipot words”, derived from the use of such words on apothecaries' jars, the construct being galli(s) + pot.  Gallis was from the Latin gallus (rooster or cock (male chicken)), from the Proto-Italic galsos, an enlargement of gl̥s-o-, zero-grade of the primitive Indo-European gols-o-, from gelh- (to call); it can be compared with the Proto-Balto-Slavic galsas (voice), the Proto-Germanic kalzōną (to call), the Albanian gjuhë (tongue; language), and (although this is contested) the Welsh galw (call).  Appearing usually in the plural a gallipot word was something long, hard to pronounce, obscure or otherwise mysterious, the implication being it was being deployed gratuitously to convey the impression of being learned.  The companion insult was “you talk like an apothecary” and “apothecary's Latin” was a version of the tongue spoken badly or brutishly (synonymous with “bog Latin” or “dog Latin” but different from “schoolboy Latin” & “barracks Latin”, the latter two being humorous constructions, the creators proud of their deliberate errors).  The curious route which led to “gallipot” referencing big words was via the rooster being the symbol used by apothecaries in medieval and Renaissance Europe, appearing on their shop signs, jars & pots.  That was adopted by the profession because the rooster symbolized vigilance, crowing (hopefully) at dawn, signaling the beginning of the day and thus the need for attentiveness and care.  Apothecaries, responsible for preparing and dispensing medicinal remedies, were expected to be vigilant and attentive to detail in their work to ensure the health and well-being of their patients who relied on their skill to provided them the potions to “get them up every morning” in sound health.  Not all historians are impressing by the tale and say a more convincing link is that in Greek mythology, the rooster was sacred to Asclepius (Aesdulapius in the Latin), the god of medicine, and was often depicted in association with him.  In some tales, Asclepius had what was, even by the standards of the myths of Antiquity, a difficult birth and troubled childhood.

The quest for the use of “plain English” is not new.  The English diplomat and judge Thomas Wilson (1524–1581) wrote The Arte of Rhetorique (1553), remembered as the “the first complete works on logic and rhetoric in English” and in it he observed the first lesson to be learned was never to affect “any straunge ynkhorne termes, but to speak as is commonly received.  Wring a decade earlier, the English bishop John Bale (1495–1563) had already lent an ecclesiastical imprimatur to the task, condemning one needlessly elaborate text with: “Soche are your Ynkehorne termes” and that may be the first appearance of the term in writing.  A religious reformer of some note, he was nicknamed “bilious Bale”, a moniker which politicians must since have been tempted to apply to many reverend & right-reverend gentlemen.  A half millennium on, the goal of persuading all to use “plain English” is not yet achieved and a fine practitioner of the art was Dr Kevin Rudd (b 1957; Australian prime-minister 2007-2010 & 2013): from no one else would one be likely to hear the phrase detailed programmatic specificity” and to really impress he made sure he spoke it to an audience largely of those for whom English was not a first language.

An inkhorn attributed to Qes Felege, a scribe and craftsman.

Animal horns were for millennia re-purposed for all sorts of uses including as drinking vessels, gunpowder stores & loaders, musical instruments and military decoration and in that last role they’ve evolved into a political fashion statement, Jacob Chansley (b 1988; the “QAnon Shaman”) remembered for the horned headdress worn during the attack on the United States Capitol building in Washington DC on 6 January 2021.  Inkhorns tended variously to be made from the horns of sheep or oxen, storing the ink when not as use and ideal as a receptacle into which the nib of a quill or pen could be dipped.  Given the impurities likely then to exist a small stick or nail was left in the horn to stir away any surface film which might disrupts a nib’s ability to take in free-flowing ink, most of which were not pre-packaged products by mixed by the user from a small solid “cake” of the base substance in the desired color, put into the horn with a measure starchy water and left overnight to dissolve.  The sharp point of a horn allowed it to be driven into the ground because the many scribes were not desk-bound and actually travelled from place to place to do their writing, quill and inkhorn their tools of trade.

A mid-Victorian (1837-1901) silver plated three-vat inkwell by George Richards Elkington (1801–1865) of Birmingham, England.

The cast frame is of a rounded rectangular form with outset corners, leaf and cabuchons, leaf scroll handle and conforming pen rest.  The dealer offering this piece described the vats as being of "Vaseline" glass with fruit cast lids and in the Elkington factory archives, this is registered, 8 Victoria Chap 17. No. 899, 1 November 1841.  “Vaseline glass” is a term describing certain glasses in a transparent yellow to yellow-green color attained by virtue of a uranium content.  It's an often used descriptor in the antique business because some find the word “uranium” off-putting although inherently the substance is safe, the only danger coming from being scratched by a broken shard.  Also, some of the most vivid shades of green are achieved by the addition of a colorant (usually iron) and these the cognoscenti insist should be styled “Depression Glass” a term which has little appeal to antique dealers.  The term “Vaseline glass” wasn’t used prior to the 1950s (after the detonation of the first A-bombs in 1945, there emerged an aversion to being close to uranium) and what's used in this inkwell may actually be custard glass or Burmese glass which is opaque whereas Vaseline glass is transparent.  Canary glass was first used in the 1840s as the trade name for Vaseline glass, a term which would have been unknown to George Richards Elkington.

English silver plate horn and dolphin inkwell (circa 1909) with bell, double inkwell on wood base with plaque dated 1909.  This is an inkwell made using horns; it is not an inkhorn.

So inkhorns were for those on the move while those which sat on desks were called “ink wells” or “ink pots” and these could range from simple “pots” to elaborate constructions in silver or gold.  There are many ink wells which use horns as part of their construction but they are not inkhorns, the dead animal parts there just as decorative forms of structure.

Dr Rudolf Steiner’s biodynamic cow horn fertilizer.

Horns are also a part of the “biodynamic” approach to agriculture founded by the Austrian occultist & mystic Rudolf Steiner (1861-1925), an interesting figure regarded variously as a “visionary”, a “nutcase” and much between.  The technique involves filling cow horns with cow manure which are buried during the six coldest months so the mixture will ferment; upon being dug up, it will be a sort of humus which has lost the foul smell of the manure and taken on a scent of undergrowth.  It may then be used to increase the yield generated from the soil.  It’s used by being diluted with water and sprayed over the ground.  Dr Steiner believed the forces penetrating the digestive organ of cows through the horn influence the composition of their manure and when returned to the environment, it is enriched with spiritual forces that make the soil more fertile and positively affect it.  As he explained: “The cow has horns to send within itself the etheric-astral productive forces, which, by pressing inward, have the purpose of penetrating directly into the digestive organ. It is precisely through the radiation from horns and hooves that a lot of work develops within the digestive organ itself.  So in the horns, we have something well-adapted, by its nature, to radiate the vital and astral properties in the inner life.”  Now we know.

Sunday, June 9, 2024

Vantage

Vantage (pronounced van-tij or vahn-tij)

(1) A position, condition, or place affording some advantage or a commanding view, expressed usually as "vantage point".

(2) An advantage or superiority (almost obsolete except when used by Aston-Martin).

(3) In lawn tennis, short for advantage, a "vantage game" the first game played after the set is deuce (40-40) (now thought rare as deliberate use but "advantage" is often heard that way although some umpires may well prefer the clipping).

1250-1300: From the Middle English, from the Anglo-French, by apheresis from the Old French avantage (advantage or profit).  The English advantage was from the early fourteenth century Middle English avantage & avauntage (position of being in advance of another), from the twelfth century Old French avantage (advantage, profit; superiority), from avant (before), either via an unrecorded Late or Medieval Latin abantaticum or from the Latin abante (in front; before), from the primitive Indo-European root ant (front, forehead).  The spelling with a "d" was one of those mistakes which endured to become "correct English", the “a-”, being supposed to be from the Latin ad-(from the preposition ad (to, towards), from the Proto-Italic ad, from the primitive Indo-European héd (near, at).  The meaning “any condition favorable to success, a favoring circumstance” (ie the opposite of “a disadvantage”) emerged in the late fifteenth century while the use in the scoring in tennis is documented from the 1640s.  The familiar modern phrase take advantage of was in used by the late fourteenth century in the sense of (“avail oneself of” & “impose oneself upon” while the meaning “to have the advantage of (someone) (ie have superiority over) dates from the 1560s.  The phrase "vantage point" was first noted in 1865, a variation of the earlier "vantage ground" which was in military & hunting use by the early seventeenth century.  The early English alternative vauntage, soon faded from use and the derived forms, vantages (third-person singular simple present) vantaging (present participle) and vantaged (simple past and past participle) are now wholly obsolete. Vantahe is a noun & verb; the noun plural is vantages.

The phrase “coigne of vantage” (a good position for observation, judgment, criticism, action etc) was from Act 1, Scene 6 in William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) Macbeth (circa 1605) in which King Duncan and his cohort ride up to Macbeth's castle.

DUNCAN

This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

BANQUO

This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath
Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle.
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
The air is delicate.

Coigne was a variant of quoin, from coin and has been used variously to mean (1) a projecting corner or angle; a cornerstone, (2) the keystone of an arch, (3) a wedge used in typesetting, (4) in crystallography, a corner of a crystal formed by the intersection of three or more faces at a point and (5) in geology, an original angular elevation of land around which continental growth has taken place.

Vantage points: Traditionally, the best way to secure a vantage point is to seek a degree of elevation to achieve the desired "line of sight" (Lindsay Lohan (photo shoot for Vogue (Spanish edition) August 2009, left) but the functionality of just about any spot can usually be enhanced by the use of a telescope, binoculars, opera glasses of any appropriate form of magnification (Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011, right).

DB2 Vantage DHC

The word Vantage was first used by Aston Martin in 1950 on the DB2.  The title indicated an uprated engine specification: a pair of larger carburetors and a higher compression ratio which added 20bhp to the standard DB2’s 105.  Almost 250 were built with both saloon (AM’s term for a two door coupé) and drophead coupé (DHC, the term then often used by English manufacturers to refer to "formal convertibles (which some call cabriolets)" (as opposed to the more performance-oriented roadsters)) coachwork.

DB4 Vantage Saloon

Strangely, although the Vantage moniker caught on with aficionados, it wouldn’t be again used by the factory for almost a decade.  The DB4 Vantage was released with the Series IV cars in 1961, now with triple carburetors and a higher compression ratio, the cylinder head was also revised with bigger valves, the package yielding 266bhp, some ten per cent more than a standard DB4.  The Vantage this time was visibly distinct as well as technically upgraded, gaining the faired-in headlights and bright aluminum trim from the earlier DB4 GT.

DB5 Vantage Saloon

While mechanically almost identical to the Series IV, the more spacious Series V Vantage of 1962, the last in the DB4 line, was stylistically different, being essentially a prototype for the upcoming DB5.  The two are virtually indistinguishable; indeed one Series V DB4 Vantage was used alongside a DB5 in the filming of the James Bond film Goldfinger (1964).  Of the 141 built, the rarest and most desirable were the half-dozen with the optional DB4 GT engine.

DB5 Vantage DHC

The Vantage option remained on the books when the DB5 was released in 1965.  Now with triple Weber carburetors, the factory rated the Vantage at 325bhp, a jump of 40 over the standard engine and only 68 of the 887 saloons were built to the Vantage specification.  More rare still was the DB5 Vantage convertible, a mere eight of the 123 built although, over the decades, a great many of both have be upgraded to the Vantage standard.

DB6 Vantage Saloon

Introduced in 1965 and made in two series, the now Kham-tailed DB6 remained in production until 1970.  The DB6 Vantage was mechanically identical to its predecessor but there were detail changes.  Retained was the Vantage badge introduced with the DB5, but the nomenclature was now added as a discreet script on the side strakes and much attention was devoted to improving passenger comfort.  At this point, while coupés continued to be labelled saloons, convertibles were now styled Volantes (a derivation of the Italian word for "flying").  Spread between two series, out of a total DB6 production of 1739, 405 Saloons and 42 Vantage Volantes were built.

DBS Vantage Saloon

By the mid 1960s, the market in which Aston Martin competed, although larger, was more contested than even a decade earlier.  As early as 1961, Jaguar’s E-Type had, at a fraction of the cost, matched the DBs in style and performance, if not quality and their V12 project was known to be well-advanced.  The Italian thoroughbreds, Ferrari, Maserati and Lamboghini, all with eight and twelve cylinder engines, were setting new standards and there was now an array of trans-Atlantic hybrids which combined exquisite European coachwork with cheap, effortless and reliableAmerican V8 power.  Aston Martin’s six cylinder engine, Vantage tweaked or not, was starting to look technologically bankrupt.  Accordingly, the factory developed both a new car, the DBS, and their own V8.  For a variety of reasons, the V8 wasn’t ready by the time the DBS, a typical Aston Martin mix of traditional and modern, was released in 1967 so the familiar six, again available in Standard or Vantage form was carried over from the DB6 although, to counter increased weight, the Vantage version boasted revised camshafts.

Vantage Saloon

The DBS and DB6 were produced in parallel until 1970, the last few DB6s built after the DBS V8’s release the previous year.  The last of the six cylinder DBSs came in a run of seventy named simply Vantage, all with the revised twin-headlight coachwork introduced in 1972 which would serve the line essentially unchanged until 1989.  Historically, the final seventy were then a unique anomaly, the first time a Vantage was not the most but the company's least potent offering.  After the last was built in 1973, there would not for twenty years be another six-cylinder Aston Martin.

V8 Vantage Volante

That historical quirk was certainly rectified after the Vantage’s half-decade hiatus, during which the first oil crisis of the early 1970s had transformed the market.  Most of the trans-Atlantic hybrids had been driven extinct, Jaguar had moved in a different direction, Mercedes-Benz had chosen not to compete, Lamborghini, Aston Martin and Maserati all had their own brushes with bankruptcy, Porsche were moving up-market to become a competitor and governments were imposing more and more regulations.  The 1977 Aston Martin Vantage took a different approach to the mid-engined Italian or turbo-charged German opposition.  Although there was much attention to aerodynamics and chassis dynamics, mostly it was about simple brute force, the additional power over the standard V8 gained by the traditional methods used in Vantages past and it proved effective, able to run with the Lamborghini Countach, the Ferrari BB and even the Porsche 911 Turbo of the time.  This time, the factory didn’t release a claimed power output, describing it instead as “adequate”.  Introduced in 1969, by the time production ended in 1989, the V8 range was regarded as "a glorious anachronism".

V8 Vantage Zagato Saloon

The Vantage, as both saloon and volante, remained in production until 1989 and served as the basis of the shorter, radical, and very rare, V8 Vantage Zagato coupé & convertible (presumably in deference to the Italian contribution, the tags "saloon" & "volante" were never used).  Zagato's coachwork during the 1950s had been sometimes quirky (the double-bubble roof a signature) but they tended to the orthodoxy of the era, exemplified by the DB4 GT Zagato coupé, twenty of which were built between 1960-1963.  As the century unfolded however, Zagato's lines became increasingly rectilinear and "interestingly unique" were sometimes described as "not conventionally beautiful" and the Vantage Zagato (1986-1990) was one of the less confronting.  Still, Zatago survives to this day while many European coachbuilders did not and the business has been in continuous operation since 1919, some half-dozen years after the formation of Aston Martin.

Virage Vantage V550 Saloon

High-priced brute force remained a gap in the market and Aston Martin continued its commitment with a Virage-based supercharged Vantage in 1993 which, by 1998, was running twin superchargers, its 600bhp making it then the most powerful production powerplant in the world, making the Vantage capable of close to 200 mph (320 km/h) and for those who wanted even more power there was a run of forty V8 Vantage Le Mans" versions, built to mark the fortieth anniversary of the victory in the 24 hour endurance classic of Carroll Shelby (1923–2012) & Roy Salvadori (1922–2012) in an Aston Martin DBR1/300; Shelby would go on to found Shelby American and produce the AC Cobra, the mid century's benchmark in brute force.  Virage production ended in 2000 and for a platform which started life in 1969 it endured remarkably well.  By the year 2000, some of the competition were objectively "better cars" but there was nothing else like the big Aston Martins left and its retirement was regretted by many.

DB7 Vantage Saloon

The DB7, first shown at the now defunct Geneva Motor Show in 1993, was the first six-cylinder Aston Martin in twenty years.  It was conservatively styled but the lines were greeted with acclaim and it proved an immediate success.  In 1999, a Vantage version was released and with the company now under the Ford corporate umbrella, it used a 5.9 litre (362 cubic inch) V12 engine developed in co-operation with Cosworth Technology.  It was the first time a Vantage wasn’t a development of the standard engine, the straight six in the DB7 being a different configuration and remarkably, by historic standards, the DB7 Vantage verged on mass-production: over four-thousand built were built over a four and a half year run which ended in 2003.

VH V8 Vantage Coupé

Ford were pleased by the sales and in 2003, again at the Geneva Motor Show, unveiled on the VH platform the AMV8 Vantage Concept, so well-received the order books were bulging by the time the production version was released in 2005.  It proved to be the most successful car in Aston Martin’s history and this time it really was mass-produced, necessitating construction of a second production line; eventually more than fifteen thousand would leave the factory.  Less brute force than before, the new V8 Vantage relied on technology to exceed the performance of most of its predecessors.  For those attracted by more performance or more exclusivity, in 2009, Aston Martin unveiled the V12 Vantage, weighing little more than its V8 sibling but boasting an additional hundred-odd horsepower and able to reach 190 mph (305 km/h).  In 2012, the V12 Vantage Zagato was added to the books.

V12 Vantage S

However, after the GFC (Global Financial Crisis), the expansion of the money supply (essentially governments giving cash to the rich) at the upper end of the market meant there was increasing taste for conspicuous consumption.  Like other manufacturers anxious to meet demand with supply, Aston Martin responded with a bespoke programme, offering degrees of customisation to the point of one-off creations but also, new product lines, hence the 2013 V12 Vantage S.  It joined the new generation of machines now able routinely to attain the 200mph (320 km/h) speeds first promised by the Italians in the early 1970s but not realised because of the means available at the time to defeat the formidable opposition of physics.  At a tested 205mph (330 km/h), the terminal velocity of the V12 Vantage S made it the fastest Aston Martin ever and, in a nicely nostalgic touch, in 2016, even a manual gearbox was offered.

Vantage Roadster

The times were changing and there was an end-of-an-era feel when the new Vantage was released in 2018.  Fitted with a Mercedes-Benz-AMG four litre V8 (with fuel consumption and emissions generation numbers which even half a decade earlier would have been thought unfeasibly low), it didn't quite match the top-end performance of the V12 but was judged by reviewers to be a more practical day-to-day proposition to own while being less environmentally thuggish.  There was some regret that things were not quite the way things used to be done but to the surprise of many, the factory late in 2021 announced there would be one, last V12 Vantage and it was released the following March, 333 of the 700 horsepower machines produced, a convertible version announced some months later in a run limited to 249.  For 2024 and beyond, the 4.0 litre V8 Vantage will continue and advances in electronics and aerodynamics now guarantee each will top 200 mph.  The commendable reductions in emissions notwithstanding, Aston Martin will not have been struck from any of Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) lists so those who can are advised to enjoy a V8 or V12 Vantage while they can.

Aston Martin Vantage Production Numbers

DB2 Vantage: 248 saloon and DHC

DB4 Vantage: 135 (plus 6 DB4 GT Vantages)

DB5 Vantage: 68 saloon (plus 8 DHCs)

DB6 Vantage: 335 saloon (plus 29 Volantes)

DB6 Vantage MkII: 70 saloon (plus 13 Volantes)

DBS Vantage:290 saloons

Vantage 70 saloons

V8 Vantage: 372 saloon (plus 194 Volantes)

V8 Vantage Zagato: 52 coupés (plus 37 convertibles)

Vantage/V8 Vantage: 273 saloon (plus 40 specials)

DB7 V12 Vantage: 2,086 coupe (plus 2,056 Volantes)

V8 Vantage (VH): 15,458 coupe (plus 6,231 Roadsters)

V12 Vantage: 2,957 (all types including V12 Vantage S)

V12 Vantage (2021-2022) (333 coupés plus 249 convertibles)

Saturday, June 8, 2024

Vile

Vile (pronounced vahyl)

(1) Wretchedly bad.

(2) Highly offensive, unpleasant, or objectionable.

(3) Repulsive or disgusting, as to the senses or feelings; repellent.

(4) Morally debased, depraved, or despicable; vulgar, obscene.

(5) Foul; filthy.

(6) Poor; wretched.

(7) Of mean or low condition; menial; lowly.

(8) Degraded; ignominious.

(9) Of little value or account; paltry

(10) Vicious, evil iniquitous.

(11) Unpleasant or bad weather.

1250–1300: From the Middle English vil, from the Anglo-French ville, from the Old French vil (shameful, dishonorable; low-born; cheap; ugly, hideous), from the Latin vīlis (cheap, worthless, base, common), possibly from the primitive Indo-European wes-li, a deverbal adjective with passive meaning (which can be bought), from the root of venus (sale).  It was cognate with the Latin vīlis, the Ancient Greek νος (ônos) & νέομαι (ōnéomai) (to buy), the Sanskrit वस्नयति (vasnayati) (to haggle) and वस्न (vasna) (price).  Related forms are the adjectives viler and vilest, the adverb vilely and the noun vileness (the thirteenth century vilety appears to be extinct).  Handy synonyms include repugnant, horrid, contemptible, depraved, noxious, vulgar, humiliating, vicious, disgusting, sleazy, ugly, despicable, repulsive, revolting, miserable, nasty, appalling, immoral, shocking and disgraceful.  The verb revile was from the late fourteenth century revilen (debase, degrade (a sense now obsolete)) and by the mid-fourteenth century meant "insult, taunt, vilify, assail with abusive language".  It was from the Old French reviler (consider vile, despise, scorn).  The mid-fifteenth century vilify (to lower in worth or value) was from the Late Latin vilificare (to make cheap or base; to esteem of little value) is from the Latin vilis (cheap, worthless, base, common).  The meaning "to slander, speak evil of" dates from the 1590s.  Vile, viler (the comparative) & vilest (the superlative) are adjectives and forms like vilish & vilishness are non-standard, usually used humorously.  

Lindsay Lohan pouring from modern civilization's most ubiquitous phial (or vial), PepsiCo Pilk promotion, December 2022.  

The aluminium can used to contribute much to litter, both as thoughtlessly they were discarded when empty and because the sealing tabs were detachable, beaches & parks in the 1970s notorious for being strewn with the things.  The problems substantially were solved by (1) making a fee payable when the cans were handed in to a recycling centre and (2) changing the tab's design so the whole mechanism remains attached.  Aluminium does consume large amounts of electricity during the production process but if "green energy" can be used it's one of the less environmentally destructive metals and, (1) being light it reduces the fuel load required during transportation & storage and (2) being non-ferrous it doesn't rust.  It is one of the best and most economical efficient metals to recycle.

Phial is a doublet of vial.  In technical use (in science), some institutions have drawn distinctions between the two: (1) phials being larger than vials and (2) vials are for liquids related to medicine and phials for other fluids but in general use they remain interchangeable (although consistency within documents is obviously recommended) although phial is now rare.  In the US, early in the twentieth century, phial became close to extinct after hundreds of years of being nearly as common as vial while elsewhere in the English-speaking world, vial emerged as the preferred form during the post-war years and, except in laboratories, phial seems now a romantic form restricted to fiction, historical and spiritual writing.

Crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013), probably deleting something.

But for the judgment of the Trump election campaign team, she might now be remembered as "vile Hillary Clinton".  Like phial, vial must never be confused with its homophone vile, another example of an aspect of English which must annoy those learning the finer nuances of the language,  So a vial (or phial) is a noun describing a vessel in which liquids are kept while vile is an adjective, applied most often to morally dubious or otherwise unpleasant and objectional characters.  Donald Trump's (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) use of monikers for political opponents (and others) had been a little noticed feature of his conversation before becoming one of the features of the 2016 presidential election ("low energy Jeb" (Bush), "lying Ted" (Cruz), "little Marco" (Rubio), "crazy Bernie" (Sanders) et al but by far the most effective was "crooked Hillary" (Clinton) which is being recycled as "crooked Joe Biden" for the 2024 contest.  Mr Trump's team apparently puts some effort into finding the best (ie most appropriately insulting) although it seems a beltway myth that focus groups were assembled for testing to determine some sort of metric of effectiveness.  Bridget Jones in Helen Fielding's (b 1958) Bridget Jones's Diary (1996) liked "vile" and "vile Richard" was so evocative for readers, the word for some reason genuinely a pleasure to say the word, the meaning emphasized by lengthening the sound.  "Vile Hillary" works well.