Kamikaze

Kamikaze (pronounced kah-mi-kah-zee or kah-muh-kah-zee)

(1) A member of a World War II era special corps in the Japanese air force charged with the suicidal mission of crashing an aircraft laden with explosives into an enemy target, especially Allied Naval vessels.

(2) In later use, one of the (adapted or specifically built) airplanes used for this purpose.

(3) By extension, a person or thing that behaves in a wildly reckless or destructive manner; as a modifier, something extremely foolhardy and possibly self-defeating.

(4) Of, pertaining to, undertaken by, or characteristic of a kamikaze; a kamikaze pilot; a kamikaze attack.

(5) A cocktail made with equal parts vodka, triple sec and lime juice.

(6) In slang, disastrously to fail.

(7) In surfing, a deliberate wipeout.

1945: From the Japanese 神風 (かみかぜ) (kamikaze) (suicide flyer), the construct being kami(y) (god (the earlier form was kamui)) + kaze (wind (the earlier form was kanzai)), usually translated as “divine wind” (“spirit wind” appearing in some early translations), a reference to the winds which, according to Japanese folklore, destroying Kublai Khan's Mongol invasionfleet in 1281.  In Japanase military parlance, the official designation was 神風特別攻撃隊 (Shinpū Tokubetsu Kōgekitai (Divine Wind Special Attack Unit)).  Kamikaze is a noun, verb & adjective and kamikazeing & kamikazed are verbs; the noun plural is kamikazes.  When used in the original sense, an initial capital is used. 

HESA Shahed 136 UAV.

The use of kamikaze to describe the Iranian delta-winged UAV (unmanned aerial vehicle, popularly known as “drones”) being used by Russia against Ukraine reflects the use of the word which developed almost as soon as the existence of Japan’s wartime suicide bomber programme became known.  Kamikaze was the name of the aviators and their units but it was soon also applied to the aircraft used, some re-purposed from existing stocks and some rocket powered units designed for the purpose.  In 1944-1945 they were too little, too late but they proved the effectiveness of precision targeting although not all military cultures would accept the loss-rate the Kamikaze sustained.  In the war in Ukraine, the Iranian HESA Shahed 136 (شاهد ۱۳۶ (literally "Witness-136" and designated Geran-2 (Герань-2 (literally "Geranium-2") by the Russians) the kamikaze drone have proved extraordinarily effective being cheap enough to deploy en masse and capable of precision targeting.  They’re thus a realization of the century-old dream of the strategic bombing theorists to hit “panacea targets” at low cost while sustaining no casualties.  Early in World War II, the notion of panacea targets had been dismissed, not because as a strategy it was wrong but because the means of finding and bombing such targets didn’t exist, thus “carpet bombing” (bombing for several square miles around any target) was adopted because it was at the time the best option.  Later in the war, as techniques improved and air superiority was gained, panacea targets returned to the mission lists but the method was merely to reduce the size of the carpet.  The kamikaze drones however can be pre-programmed or remotely directed to hit a target within the tight parameters of a GPS signal.  The Russians know what to target because so many blueprints of Ukrainian infrastructure sit in Moscow’s archives and the success rate is high because, deployed in swarms because they’re so cheap, the old phrase from the 1930s can be updated for the UAV age: “The drone will always get through”.

Imperial Japan’s Kamikazes

By 1944, it was understood by the Japanese high command that the strategic gamble simultaneously to attack the US Pacific Fleet at anchor in Pearl Harbor and the Asian territories of the European powers.  Such was the wealth and industrial might of the US that within three years of the Pearl Harbor raid, the preponderance of Allied warships and military aircraft in the Pacific was overwhelming and Japan’s defeat was a matter only of time.  That couldn’t be avoided but within the high command it was thought that if the Americans understood how high would be the causality rate if they attempted an invasion of the Japanese home islands, that and the specter of occupation might be avoided and some sort of "negotiated settlement" might be possible, the notion of the demanded "unconditional surrender" unthinkable.

HMS Sussex hit by Kamikaze (Mitsubishi Ki-51 (Sonia)), 26 July 1945 (left) and USS New Mexico (BB-40) hit by Kamikaze off Okinawa, 12 May 1945 (right).

Although on paper, late in the war, Japan had over 15,000 aircraft available for service, a lack of development meant most were at least obsolescent and shortages of fuel increasingly limited the extent to which they could be used in conventional operations.  From this analysis came the estimate that if used as “piloted bombs” on suicide missions, it might be possible to sink as many as 900 enemy warships and inflict perhaps 22,000 causalities and in the event of an invasion, when used at shorter range against landing craft or beachheads, it was thought an invading force would sustain over 50,000 casualties by suicide attacks alone.  Although the Kamikaze attacks didn't achieve their strategic objective, they managed to sink dozens of ships and kill some 5000 allied personnel.  All the ships lost were smaller vessels (the largest an escort carrier) but significant damage was done to fleet carriers and cruisers and, like the (also often dismissed as strategically insignificant) German V1 & V2 attacks in Europe, resources had to be diverted from the battle plan to be re-tasked to strike the Kamikaze air-fields.  Most importantly however, so vast by 1944 was the US military machine that it was able easily to repair or replace as required.  Brought up in a different tradition, US Navy personnel the target of the Kamikaze dubbed the attacking pilots Baka (Japanese for “Idiot”).

A captured Japanese Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka (Model 11), Yontan Airfield, April 1945.

Although it’s uncertain, the first Kamikaze mission may have been an attack on the carrier USS Frankin by Rear Admiral Arima (1895-1944) flying a Yokosuka D4Y Suisei (Allied codename Judy) and the early flights were undertaken using whatever airframes were available and regarded, like the pilots, as expendable.  Best remembered however, although only 850-odd were built, were the rockets designed for the purpose.  The Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka (櫻花, (Ōka), (cherry blossom)) was a purpose-built, rocket-powered attack aircraft which was essentially a powered bomb with wings, conceptually similar to a modern “smart bomb” except that instead of the guidance being provided by on board computers and associated electronics which were sacrificed in the attack, there was a similarly expendable human pilot.  Shockingly single-purpose in its design parameters, the version most produced could attain 406 mph (648 km/h) in level flight at relatively low altitude and 526 mph (927 km/h) while in an attack dive but the greatest operational limitation was the range was limited to 23 miles (37 km), forcing the Japanese military to use lumbering Mitsubishi G4N (Betty) bombers as “carriers” (the Ohka the so-called "parasite aircraft") with the rockets released from under-slung assemblies when within range.  As the Ohka was originally conceived (with a range of 80 miles (130 km)), as a delivery system that may have worked but such was the demand on the designers to provide the highest explosive payload, the fuel load was reduced, restricting the maximum speed to 276 mph (445 km/h), making the barely maneuverable little rockets easy prey for fighters and even surface fire.

Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka.

During the war, Japan produced more Mitsubishi G4Ms than any other bomber and its then remarkable range (3130 miles (5037 km)) made it a highly effective weapon early in the conflict but as the US carriers and fighters were deployed in large numbers, its vulnerabilities were exposed: the performance was no match for fighters and it was completely un-armored without even self-sealing fuel tanks, hence the nick-name “flying lighter” gained from flight crews.  However, by 1945 Japan had no more suitable aircraft available for the purpose so the G4M was used as a carrier and the losses were considerable, an inevitable consequence of having to come within twenty-odd miles of the US battle-fleets protected by swarms of fighters.  It had been planned to develop a variant of the much more capable Yokosuka P1Y (Ginga) (as the P1Y3) to perform the carrier role but late in the war, Japan’s industrial and technical resources were stretched and P1Y development was switched to night-fighter production, desperately needed to repel the US bombers attacking the home islands.  Thus the G4M (specifically the G4M2e-24J) continued to be used.

Watched by Luftwaffe chief Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945), Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) presents test pilot Hanna Reitsch (1912-1979) with the Iron Cross (2nd class), Berlin, March, 1941 (left); she was later (uniquely for a woman), awarded the 1st-class distinction.  Conceptual sketch of the modified V1 flying bomb (single cockpit version, right).

The idea of suicide missions also appealed to some Nazis, predictably most popular among those never likely to find themselves at the controls, non-combatants often among the most blood-thirsty of politicians.  The idea had been discussed earlier as a means of destroying the electricity power-plants clustered around Moscow but early in 1944, the intrepid test pilot Hanna Reitsch suggested to Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; German head of government 1933-1945 & of state 1934-1945) a suicide programme as the most likely means of hitting strategic targets.  Ultimately, she settled on using a V1 flying bomb (the Fieseler Fi 103R, an early cruise missile) to which a cockpit had been added, test-flying it herself and even mastering the landing, a reasonable feat given the high landing speed.  As a weapon, assuming a sufficient supply of barely-trained pilots, it would probably have been effective but Hitler declined to proceed, feeling things were not yet sufficiently desperate.  The historic moment passed although in the skies above Germany, in 1945 there were dozens of what appeared to be "suicide attacks" by fighter pilots ramming their aircraft into US bombers.  The Luftwaffe was by this time so short of fuel that training had been cut to the point new recruits were being sent into combat with only a few hours of solo flying experience so it's believed some incidents may have been "work accidents" but the ad-hoc Kamikaze phenomenon was real.

According to statics compiled by the WHO (World Health Organization) in 2021, globally, there were an estimated 727,000 suicides and within the total: (1) among 15–29-year-olds, suicide was the third leading cause of death (2) for 15–19-year-olds, it was the fourth leading and (3) for girls aged 15–19, suicide ranked the third leading.  What was striking was that in middle & high income nations, suicide is the leading cause of death in the young (typically defined as those aged 15-29 or 15-34.  Because such nations are less affected by infectious disease, armed conflicts and accident mortality that in lower income countries, it appeared there was a “mental health crisis”, one manifestation of which was the clustering of self-harm and attempted suicides, a significant number of the latter successful.  As a result of the interplay of the economic and social factors reducing mortality from other causes, intentional self-harm stands out statistically, even though suicide rates usually are not, in absolute terms, “extremely” high.  Examples quoted by the WHO included:

Republic of Korea (ROK; South Korea): Among people aged 10–39, suicide is consistently the leading cause of death and that’s one of the highest youth suicide rates in the OECD (Organization of Economic Cooperation & Development, sometimes called the “rich countries club” although changes in patterns of development have compressed relativities and that tag is not as appropriate as once it was.

Japan (no longer styled the “Empire of Japan although the head of state remain an emperor): Suicide is the leading cause of death among those aged 15-39 and while there was a marked decline in the total numbers after the government in the mid 1990s initiated a public health campaign the numbers did increase in the post-COVID pandemic period.  Japan is an interesting example to study because its history has meant cultural attitudes to suicide differ from those in the West.

New Zealand (Aotearoa): New Zealand has one of the highest youth suicide rates in the developed world, especially among Māori youth and although the numbers can bounce around, for those aged 15–24, suicide is often the leading or second leading cause of death.

Finland:  For those aged 15-24, suicide is always among leading causes of mortality and in some reporting periods the leading one.  Because in Finland there are there are extended times when the hours of darkness are long and the temperatures low, there have been theories these conditions may contribute to the high suicide rate (building on research into rates of depression) but the studies have been inconclusive.

Australia: Suicide is the leading cause of death for those in the cohorts 15–24 and 25–44 and a particular concern is the disproportionately high rate among indigenous youth, the incidents sometimes happening while they’re in custody.  In recent years, suicide has road accidents and cancer as the leading cause in these age groups.

Norway & Sweden: In these countries, suicide is often one of the top three causes of death among young adults and in years when mortality from disease and injury are especially low it typically will rise to the top.

Kamikaze Energy Cans in all six flavors (left) and potential Kakikaze Energy Can customer Lindsay Lohan (right).

Ms Lohan was pictured here with a broken wrist (fractured in two places in an unfortunate fall at Milk Studios during New York Fashion Week) and 355 ml (12 fluid oz) can of Rehab energy drink, Los Angeles, September 2006.  Some recovering from injuries find energy drinks a helpful addition to the diet.  The car is a 2005 Mercedes-Benz SL 65 (R230; 2004-2011) which earlier had featured in the tabloids after a low-speed crash.  The R230 range (2001-2011) was unusual because of the quirk of the SL 550 (2006-2011), a designation used exclusively in the North American market, the RoW (rest of the world) cars retaining the SL 500 badge even though both used the 5.5 litre (333 cubic inch) V8 (M273).

Given the concerns about suicide among the young, attention has in the West been devoted the way the topic is handled on social media and the rise in the use of novel applications for AI (artificial intelligence) has flagged new problems, one of the “AI companions” now wildly popular among youth (the group most prone to attempting suicide) recently in recommending their creator take his own life.  That would have been an unintended consequence of (1) the instructions given to the bot and (2) the bot’s own “learning process”, the latter something which the software developers would have neither anticipated nor expected.  Given the sensitivities to the way suicide is handled in the media, on the internet or in popular culture, it’s perhaps surprising there’s an “energy drink” called “Kamikaze”.  Like AI companions, the prime target for the energy drink suppliers is males aged 15-39 which happens to be the group most at risk of suicide thoughts and most likely to attempt suicide.  Despite that, the product’s name seems not to have attracted much criticism and the manufacturer promises: “With your Kamikaze Energy Can, you'll enjoy a two-hour energy surge with no crash.”  Presumably the word “crash” was chosen with some care although, given the decline in the teaching of history at school & university level, it may be a sizeable number of youth have no idea about the origin of “Kamikaze”.  Anyway, containing “200mg L-Citrulline, 160mg Caffeine Energy, 1000mg Beta Alanine, vitamin B3, B6 & B12, zero carbohydrates and zero sugar, the cans are available in six flavours: Apple Fizz, Blue Raspberry, Creamy Soda, Hawaiian Splice, Mango Slushy & Rainbow Gummy.

Rune

Rune (pronounced roon)

(1) Any of the characters of certain ancient Germanic alphabets (derived from the Roman alphabet), as of a script used for writing the Germanic languages, especially of Scandinavia and Britain, circa 200-1200 AD, or a script used for inscriptions in a Turkic language between the sixth and eighth centuries from the area near the Orkhon River in Mongolia.  Each character was ascribed some magical significance.

(2) Something written or inscribed in such characters.

(3) An aphorism, poem, or saying with mystical meaning or for use in casting a spell; any obscure piece of writing using mysterious symbols; a spell or incantation.

(4) In literary use, a poem, song, or verse.

(5) A Finnish or Scandinavian epic poem, or a division of one, especially a division of the Kalevala.

(6) A roun (secret or mystery) (obsolete).

(7) In computing, in the Go programming language, a Unicode code point.

1675–1685: From the Old Norse rūn & rún (a secret, writing, runic character), cognate with the Old English rūn, the Middle English rune, the obsolete English roun and the Finnish runo (poem, canto).  All were related to the Old Saxon, Old High German and Gothic runa which, like the Old Norse rūn & rún is from the Proto-Germanic rūnō (letter, literature, secret), which is borrowed from either the Proto-Celtic rūnā or from its source.  Rune, runecraft, runology, runographer, runographic, runography, runologist, runester, runesong, runestaff, runmaster, runemistress, runecarver, runecast, runecaster, runecasting, runestone, runesmith & runework are nouns, runic, runed, runeless, runelike & runish are adjectives and runically is an adverb; the noun plural is runes.

Of the Runic

Runologists squabble over details of the historical origins of runic writing but there’s a general consensus runes were derived from one of the many Old Italic alphabets in use among the Mediterranean peoples of the first century AD, those who lived to the south of the Germanic tribes.  Earlier Germanic sacred symbols, such as those preserved in northern European rock carvings, also may have influenced the development of the script.  The transmission of writing from southern to northern Europe appears to have been spread by Germanic military formations which would have encountered Italic writing during campaigns amongst their southerly neighbours.  This hypothesis is supported by the association runes have always had with the god Odin, who, in the Proto-Germanic period (under his original name Woðanaz), was the divine model of the warrior leader. The Roman historian Tacitus noted Odin (Mercury in the interpretatio romana) was already established as the dominant god in the pantheons of many Germanic tribes by the first century AD although whether the runes and the cult of Odin arose together or one predated the other remains in dispute.  In Norse mythology however, the runes came from nothing as mundane as an old alphabet.  The runes were never invented or a product of evolution but are eternal, pre-existent forces Odin himself discovered by undergoing a tremendous ordeal.

The Hávamál

The Hávamál (Sayings of Hár, Sayings of the high one) is one of the poems of the Poetic Edda.  A kind of survival guide to for those seeking to live a good life, the form of verse varies, the most notable being where the text shifts to discuss how Odin (Odhins) gained the secret of the magical runes and came to learn the spells.  A work thus both pragmatic and philosophical, the poem’s only known source the Codex Regius, thought to date from circa 800.

The Rúnatal (Rúnatáls-tháttr-Odhins or Odins Rune Song) contains the stanzas in which Odin reveals the secret of the Runes.

I know that I hung on a windy tree

nine long nights,

Wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,

myself to myself,

on that tree of which no man knows

from where its roots run.

No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn,

downwards I peered;

I took up the runes, screaming I took them,

then I fell back from there.

The Hávamál concludes with the mystical Ljóðatal, which dwells on knowledge and the knowing of the Odinic mysteries.  A kind of dictionary which lists and provides a legend creating keys to a sequenced number of runic charms, there are linkages with the Sigrdrífumál (known often as Brynhildarljóð, a section of the Poetic Edda text in Codex Regius) in which the valkyrie Sigrdrífa details a number of the runes at her command.  In stanza 151, there’s an allusion to the sending of a tree root carved with runes, a noted motif in Norse mythology and the cause of death of Grettir the Strong.

I know a sixth one if a man wounds me

with the roots of the sap-filled wood:

and that man who conjured to harm me,

the evil consumes him, not me.

The runic-themed imagery used for the cover art of Lindsay Lohan's A Little More Personal (Raw) (2005).

Historians and archivists have devoted much attention to the Codex Regius, reconstructing its timeline from the many fragmentary sources.  The earliest writings appear to have been collections of proverbs, sayings and advice attributed to Othin, probably in the manner so much in the Bible is said to have been the words of Solomon; other dubious claims of connection exist in the texts of the Buddha, Confucius, the Prophet Muhammad and others where the documentary record can never be conclusive.  The collection was thus, probably from its earliest times, elastic in content though always known as "The High One's Words", others taking advantage of the authority Othin’s imprimatur conferred to add such poems or other sayings of wisdom they thought appropriate.  In the nature of such things, the style of writing displays a consistency, important when seeking to imply that the speaker was Othin, a process which is something of a gray area in the history of literary forgery, the later authors perhaps assured what they were adding was what Othin might have said or with which he would anyway have concurred.  So, a catalogue of runes, or charms, was later bolted-on, along with new sets of proverbs, differing in content but not in style from those in the original document.  There are some stylistic variations in form in that some verses verge upon the narrative but the structure of the whole is loose, accommodating the odd innovation without jarring effect.  It’s agreed that structurally the text exists in five parts:

(1) The Hovamol proper (stanzas 1-80): The sayings and proverbs to guide the living of life, a kind of early self-help manual.

(2) The Loddfafnismol (stanzas 111-138): Another collection similar to the first, but these more a discourse on ethics and morality and addressed specifically to a young man known as Loddfafnir.

(3) The Ljothatal (stanzas 147-165): A listing of charms.

(4) The love-story of Othin and Billing's daughter (stanzas 96-102): The love story is something of a cautionary tale, beginning as it does with a dissertation on the faithlessness and general unreliability of women (stanzas 81-95).  Scholars suggest the warning words were the first written with the rest of the poem created as an apt illustration.

(5) This is the story of how Othin got the mead of poetry, the draft document which delivered to him the gift of tongues, an indulgence from the maiden Gunnloth (stanzas 103-110).  Added to this (and obviously later) is the brief passage (stanzas 139 146) recounting Othin’s winning of the runes.  Structurally, the poem needs this section as an introduction to the Ljothatal and any good editor would have insisted on its inclusion.

Of the authorship or even the dates of the accretions, nothing can for sure be known.  All than can be said is that some is very old and some more recent which isn’t a great deal of help but anything else is merely speculative.  The text instead needs to be read as it is: a gnomic collection of the wisdom a violent race living in a brutish world written to help people survive in an unforgiving time when, days when wherever one went, one would be ill-advised to assume one was among friends.  Tellingly, women are not mentioned in the non-narrative sections of the poem, not even a nod to the advantage of having someone to cook and clean for this is very much a work about the world of men on earth, the threats and their consequences.  There’s no discussion of heaven and hell or any after-life, no judgement beyond that of one's fellow men.

Bibliosmia

Bibliosmia (pronounced bib-lee-oz-mee-ah)

(1) The pleasant aroma issuing from (usually older) books.

(2) The smell of books, pleasing or not (contested).

2014: A compound word, the construct being biblio- + -osmia, bibliosmia was a neologism coined by English academic Dr Oliver Tearle and released into the wild in a (since deleted) tweet on X (then called Twitter) on 24 February 2014; the original definition was “the act of smelling books”.  Biblio was (via an uncertain path) from the Ancient Greek βιβλίον (biblíon) (small book) which originally was a diminutive of βίβλος (bíblos) (book), from βύβλος (búblos) (papyrus) (the name from the ancient Phoenician city of Byblos, which manufactured and exported papyrus to be used as writing material).  In Esperanto (the most widely used of the IALs (international auxiliary language), construction of which began late in the nineteenth century) Biblio meant “Bible” and thus was always capitalized.  The constructed suffix –(o)smia was from the Latin osmia, nominative, accusative & vocative plural of osmium, from the Ancient Greek ὀσμή (osmḗ), (stench, stink), referring to the smell of its tetroxides (any oxide containing four oxygen atoms in each molecule).  Deconstructed, bibliosmia translates as “booksmell” which sounds less than compelling and is an indication why Dr Tearle turned to Ancient Greek for a veneer of linguistic respectability.  He risked the wrath of the purists who don’t approve of mixing Greek with Latin when forming neologisms but doubtless would note the constructed suffix came ultimately from the Greek.  Bibliosmia is a noun.  Because it remains a neologism not yet acknowledged even by descriptive dictionaries (ie those which document language as it’s used rather than listing “standard words”), there are no derive forms but plausibly some could be constructed as needed including:

Bibliosmiaphile: One who loves the smell of old books (or all books if one accepts the more recent, wider definition of bibliosmia).

Bibliosmiaphilia: The love of the smell of books.

Bibliosmiaphobia: An aversion to the smell of books which really would be a thing because many have heightened sensitivity to odors; theis neen not have anything to do with a dislike of books.

Bibliosmic: The adjectival form.

Bibliosmatous: Another adjectival form.

Bibliosmiac: A noun which could be used of those with the predilection (or re-purposed as an adjective).

Dr Tearle is a lecturer in English at Loughborough University in the English county of Leicestershire and curates the blog Interesting Literature: A Library of Literary Interestingness.  His neologism bibliosmia has (to a small but appreciative audience) proved a popular addition to the tongue but bibliophiles are a tough crowd to please and there has been only restrained enthusiasm for his offering colygraphia (writer's block).  The construct of colygraphia was coly- +. graphia.  Coly- (which is used also as “cœly-”) was not a standard Greek prefix; it was a phonetic constructed from the Ancient Greek κολύω (kolýō) (I hinder, prevent, obstruct, forbid) which was related to κόλυσις (kólysis) (hindrance, prevention).  The suffix -graphia (which Latin picked up as –graphia) was from the Ancient Greek –γραφία, from the noun γραφή (graphḗ) (writing, drawing, description, or representation) from the root verb γράφω (gráphō) (to write, to draw, to inscribe).

Noted bibliosmiaphile Lindsay Lohan with books.

The different fates of bibliosmia (which has been embraced) and colygraphia (which has been ignored except by sites listing it as a word which has been ignored) illustrate how words are little different from memes or pop songs: some catch on and some don’t.  Bibliosmia had the advantage of being a word which evoked in many a fond memory and when defined, probably summoned in the senses a memory of such a smell (even one imagined) and smell is a powerful trigger.  By contrast, for most, “writer’s block” wouldn’t have a positive association.  The book fiends might have been impressed more by a construct like laudagraphia or porlocgraphia (allusions to Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s (1772-1834) now discounted excuse for bouts of writer’s block) and while neither exactly stick to the conventions of word construction, the respectability of the literary connection will be compensation.

Aroma Retail explains the chemistry of the smell of books, old & new.

It’s the interaction of chemical processes over time which lends old books the characteristic smell so many seem genuinely to enjoy.  Because there are regional and historic variations in the ways books have been produced, the fragrances which waft from the leaves can vary and this is something subject also to the environment in which the volumes are stored (temperature, light, air quality, humidity etc).  Because books contain a mix (which as technology evolved became more complex) of VOCs (volatile organic compounds), as materials (paper, ink, binding adhesives) fragment and degrade, tiny particles of solids are separated and microscopic volumes of gas are trapped; when a book is opened, some of these fragments some of the gas is released, propelled into the surrounding atmosphere by the pressure created by the movement of the pages.  Mildew or mold (found especially where storage conditions are less than ideal (especially regarding exposure to moisture)) can contribute their own musty or earthy odor but mostly it’s a product of slow chemical decomposition and can be thought a kind of olfactory record of time, materials, and conditions.  The mechanical processes which produce the scent includes:

(1) Lignin breakdown. Lignin is a natural polymer in wood pulp and was once commonly used in the production of paper; as it degrades, it produces vanillin (the same compound that gives vanilla its smell), along with phenols and other aromatic compounds.  Among the most significant of the compounds contributing to the palette of “old book smells” are toluene which produces sweet aromas & furfural which adds almond and coffee overtones.  Combined with the vanilla-like emanations from vanillin, what emerges is a sweet aroma and this is part of the appeal, our fondness for the sweet pre-dating even the emergence of the human species and related to our eternal quest for fat, salt & sugar.

(2) Cellulose degradation: Paper is composed largely of cellulose and this breaks down into compounds like furfural and acetaldehyde (both of which contribute to sweet, almond-like or grassy smells).

(3) Acetic and other acids: These give off a slightly vinegar-like tang, something exacerbated by being stored in places with high humidity.

(4) Binding glues and leather: Before the development of modern, mass-produced synthetics, most glues were animal-based (the origin of the nickname “glue factory” for the knackeries where “slow racehorses” were sent for “processing”) and these typically, over time (and again influenced by environmental conditions) released a musty or slightly sweet odor.  Leather bindings contribute aldehydes and other organic compounds, each with a distinctive scent.

Bibliosmia (n.) The smell and aroma of old or good books (2022) by Kendaric Imahso & Mirana Imahso.  A journal of 110 pages, it's described as a Reading Log, Bookworm Journal, Book Review, Book Lovers Organizer & Bibliophile’s Logbook Paperback.

This is the stuff which people smell and what aficionados call bibliosmia.  As a technical point, although there’s doubtlessly much overlap, not all bibliophiles are bibliosmists.  A bibliophile can be either (1) one who loves books or (2) one who collects books and among the latter, there are many who are interested not at all in the content, focused instead on things rarity, condition (dust jackets a fetish), publication date (first editions much sought), the presence of the author’s signature, perhaps with an inscription (dedicated ideally to someone famous or infamous) and details of construction (hardback; leather bound etc).  While there are collectors who cherish both the object and the text within, many are essentially just traders for whom the value of a book lies in the profits to be made.  Almost all probably notice the odours (there is “new book smell” and “old book smell”) but only some truly relish the experience.

Amorphous Antique Book Perfume Oil. 

Conceptually, oils and sprays which provide an "old book" or "book shop" fragrance are similar to the "leather smell" sprays now available for those with cars with vinyl upholstery.  The best of the modern vinyls are now visually indistinguishable from leather but some still long for the incomparable olfactory experience.  Those with fond memories of hours among the stacks in libraries or browsing through bookshops can at home burn Antique Book Perfume Oil in their oil burners, enhancing the reading experience. 

That experience is a construct and one valued not because of the intrinsic characteristics of the aroma(s) but because of the memories which can be triggered.  Researchers long ago determined smell is a uniquely powerful trigger of memories because of the way the brain processes olfactory information through direct and primal pathways deeply tied (hard-wired the popular if somewhat misleading term) to emotion and memory.  What the neurology community discovered was that uniquely among the five senses, smell was the only one to bypass the thalamus (the brain’s sensory “relay station”), going directly to the olfactory bulb which has intimate connections to (1) the amygdala (governing emotions) and (2) the hippocampus (memory formation).  As an evolutionary advantage, what the arrangement meant was information from a critical sensor of danger (smell) was almost immediately available to the brain’s decision-making process to (1) act upon and (2) store for future reference.  Ultimately, it meant scents can trigger emotional and autobiographical memories immediately and vividly, often before an individual identifies or describes the smell.  Many smell associations are formed in early childhood, a critical period for emotional and sensory development and the memory links remain strong because they were encoded so early in life and it’s believed much of this strength comes from smell being fully-formed long before language, meaning there early recollections remain eternally raw and unfiltered. 

Mural

Mural (pronounced myoor-uhl)

(1) A large picture painted or affixed directly on a wall or ceiling.

(2) A greatly enlarged photograph attached directly to a wall.

(3) A wallpaper pattern representing a landscape or the like, often with very widely spaced repeats so as to produce the effect of a mural painting on a wall of average size; sometimes created as a trompe l'oeil (“deceives the eye”).

(4) Of, relating to, or resembling a wall.

(5) Executed on or affixed to a wall.

(6) In early astronomy, pertaining to any of several astronomical instruments that were affixed to a wall aligned on the plane of a meridian; formerly used to measure the altitude of celestial bodies.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English mural, from the Latin mūrālis (of or pertaining to a wall), the construct being mūr(us) (wall) + ālis (the Latin suffix added to a noun or numeral to form an adjective of relationship; alternative forms were āris, ēlis, īlis & ūlis).  The Latin mūrālis was from the Old Latin moiros & moerus, from the primitive Indo-European root mei (to fix; to build fences or fortifications) from which Old English picked-up mære (boundary, border, landmark) and Old Norse gained mæri (boundary, border-land).  In the historic record, the most familiar Latin form was probably munire (to fortify, protect).  The sense of "a painting on a wall" seems to have emerged as late as 1915 as a clipping of "mural-painting" (a painting executed upon the wall of a building), a term in use since at least 1850 and derived from mural in its adjectival form.

The adjective intermural (between walls) dates from the 1650s, from the Latin intermuralis (situated between walls), the construct being from inter- (between) + muralis (pertaining to a wall) from mūrus (wall).  The adjective intramural (within the walls (of a city, building etc)) dates from 1846, the construct being intra- (within) + muralis (pertaining to a wall) from mūrus (wall); it was equivalent to Late Latin intramuranus and in English, was used originally in reference to burials of the dead.  It came first to be used in relation to university matters by Columbia in 1871.  Mural is a noun, verb & adjective; muraled is a verb & adjective, muralist & muralism are nouns and muraling is a verb; the noun plural is murals.  The adjectives murallike, muralish & muralesque are non-standard and the adverb murally is unrelated, murally a term from heraldry meaning “with a mural crown” and used mostly in the technical terms “murally crowned” & “murally gorged”.  A mural crown was a crown or headpiece representing city walls or towers and was used as a military decoration in Ancient Rome and later as a symbol in European heraldry; its most common representation was as a shape recalling the alternating merlons (raised structures extending the wall) atop a castle’s turret which provided defensive positions through which archers could fire.  The style remains familiar in some of the turrets which sometimes on the more extravagant McMansions and in the chess piece properly called the rook but also referred to as a castle.

Lindsay Lohan murals in the style of street art (graffiti): In hijab (al-amira) with kebab roll by an unknown street artist, Melbourne, Australia (left), the photograph the artist took as a template (centre) and in a green theme in Welcome to Venice mural by UK-born Californian street artist Jules Muck (b 1978) (right).  While a resident of Venice Beach, Ms Lohan lived next door to former special friend, DJ Samantha Ronson (b 1977).

In multi-cultural Australia, the kebab roll has become a fixture in the fast-food scene with variations extending from vegan to pure meat, the term “kebab” something of a generic term meaning what the vendor decides it means.  Cross-culturally the kebab roll also fills a niche as the standard 3 am snack enjoyed by those leaving night clubs, a place and time at which appetites are heightened.  After midnight, many kebab rolls are sold by street vendors from mobile carts and those in the Middle East will not be surprised to learn barbaric Australians sometimes add pineapple to their roll.  The photograph of Ms Lohan in hijab was taken during a “doorstop” (an informal press conference) after her visit in October 2016 to Gaziantep (known to locals as Antep), a city in the Republic of Türkiye’s south-eastern Anatolia Region.  The purpose of the visit was to meet with Syrian refugees being housed in Gaziantep’s Nizip district and the floral hijab was a gift from one of the residents who presumably assisted with the placement because there’s an art to a well-worn al-amira.  Ms Muck’s work was a gesture to welcome Ms Lohan moving from Hollywood to Venice Beach and the use of green is a theme in many of her works.  Unfortunately, Ms Lohan’s time in Venice Beach was brief because she was compelled to return to New York City after being stalked by the Freemasons.

Mural montage: Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) osculating with Mr Putin (Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin; b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999), Benjamin Netanyahu (b 1949; Israeli prime minister 1996-1999, 2009-2021 and since 2022), Boris Johnson (b 1964; UK prime-minister 2019-2022), Francis (1936-2025; pope 2013-2025) and “Lyin’ Ted” Cruz (b 1970; US senator (Republican-Texas) since 2013).

Probably not long after the charcoal and ochre of the first cave paintings was seen by someone other than the artist, there emerged the calling of “art critic” and while the most common fork of that well-populated profession focuses on the aesthetic, art has also long been political.  The mural of course has much scope to be controversial because they tend to be (1) big and (2) installed in public spaces, both aspects making the things highly visible.  Unlike a conventionally sized painting which, even if large, a curator can hang in some obscure spot or put into storage, the mural is just where it is and often part of the built environment; there it will be seen.  In art history, few murals have more intriguing tales than Michelangelo’s (Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni; 1475–1564) ceiling and frescos (1508-1512) in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel but although there were at the time of the commissioning and completion few theological or political squabbles, there were the Vatican’s usual personal and institutional tensions, cardinals and bishops with their own agendas (some financial) peeking and poking into why Julius II (1443–1513; pope 1503-1513) had handed the juicy contract to someone thought primarily a sculptor rather than a painter.

Sistine Chapel, The Vatican, Rome.

The political stoush came later.  At the time, the nudity had been noted and while some voices were raised in opposition, there was no attempt to censor the work because during the High Renaissance, depictions of nudity (on canvas, in marble etc) were all around including in the Vatican but decades later, during the sittings of the Council of Trent (1545–1563), critiques of “nakedness” in art became more vocal.  That was especially the case after the Counter-Reformation (circa 1550–circa 1670) produced a more severe Church, a development with many repercussions, one of which was the “fig-leaf campaign” in which an artist was commissioned to paint over (especially male) genitalia, the traditional “fig leaf” the preferred device.  Perhaps curiously, despite the early appearance of the motif in the art of Christendom, for centuries the fig leaf wasn’t “obligatory” although they appear often enough that at times they must have been at least “desirable” and in other periods and places clearly “essential”.  The later infamous “Fig Leaf Campaign” was initiated by Pope Paul IV (1476–1559; pope 1555-1559) and continued by his successors although it was most associated with the ruling against “lasciviousness” in religious art made in 1563 by the Council of Trent.  It was something very much in the spirit of the Counter-Reformation and it was Pius IV (1499–1565; pope 1559-1565) who commissioned artist Daniele da Volterra (circa 1509–1566) to paint over the genitalia Michelangelo had depicted on his ceiling, extending his repertoire from strategically positioned leaves to artfully placed draperies or loincloths; Romans to his dying day nicknamed Volterra “Il Braghettone” (the breeches maker).  As late as the nineteenth century Greco-Roman statues from antiquity were still having their genitals covered with fig leaves (sometimes detachable, a trick the British Museum later adopted to protect Victoria’s (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) delicate sensibilities during her infrequent visits).  Another example of practical criticism was the edict by Pius IX (1792–1878; pope 1846-1878) that extant male genitalia on some of the classical statues adorning the Vatican should be “modified” and that involved stonemasons, sculptors and other artisans receiving commissions to “modify or cover” as required, some fig leaves at the time added.  It is however a myth popes sometimes would be seen atop a ladder, chisel in hand, hammering away for not only did they hire "the trades" to do their dirty work, what was done was almost always concealment rather than vandalism.

Then a work in progress, this is one of the few known photographs of Diego Rivera's mural in New York City's Rockefeller Center.  According to the Workers Age of 15 June, 1933, the image was "...taken surreptitiously by one of Rivera's aides..."  

Still, no pope ever ordered Michelangelo’s creation painted over but not all artists were so fortunate.  On 9 May 1933 (by coincidence a day when the Nazis publicly were burning books), New York’s very rich Rockefeller family ordered Mexican artist Diego Rivera (1886-1957) to cease work on his mural depicting "human intelligence in control of the forces of nature", then being painted in the great hall of the 70-storey Rockefeller Center in New York City.  Taking photographs of the mural was also prohibited.  What incurred the family’s wrath was the artist's addition of a depiction of Bolshevik revolutionary comrade Vladimir Lenin (1870–1924; head of government of Russia or Soviet Union 1917-1924) against a background of crowds of unemployed workers.  Comrade Lenin had not appeared in the conceptual sketch (entitled Man at the Crossroads Looking with Hope and High Vision to the Choosing of a New and Better Future) the artist had provided prior to the commission being granted.  Nelson Rockefeller (1908–1979; US vice president 1974-1977 and who earned immortality by having "died on the job") genuinely was a modern art fan-boy and attempted to negotiate a compromise but it was the nadir of the Great Depression, marked by plummeting industrial production, bank failures and an unemployment rate approaching 25%; other family members, knowing there was in the air talk of revolution (the Rockefeller family had much to lose), didn’t want unemployed getting ideas.  To them, Lenin was close to being the devil incarnate and "the devil makes work for idle hands".  The mural was covered by a canvas drape until February 1934 when, under cover of darkness, it was broken up and carted off to be dumped, the family dutifully having paid the artist his US$21,000 fee.