Statesman

Statesman (pronounced steyts-muhn)

(1) Certain politicians with a favorable reputation (a rare breed), especially those associated with international relations.

(2) A person (not of necessity an elected politician) experienced in the art & science of government or versed in the administration of government affairs, especially those involved in diplomacy.

(3) A product name used variously of such things as cars, ships and (especially) newspapers and periodicals.

1585–1595: A construct was state + s + -man, modeled on steersman (in nautical use, one who steers a ship or other vessel (the helmsman)).  State was from the early thirteen century Middle English noun stat, from both the Old French estat and the Latin status (manner of standing, attitude, position, carriage, manner, dress, apparel; and other senses), from stare (to stand); a doublet of estate and status.  The idea of “the polity” which evolved ultimately into the construct of the modern nation-state began to develop in fourteenth century Europe, notably the multi-entity Holy Roman Empire.  In other European languages, the comparable words were the French être, the Greek στέω (stéo), the Italian stare, the Portuguese estar, the Romanian sta, and the Spanish estar.  

The suffix –man developed from the noun and was applied describe (1) someone (the original implication obviously implied male) who is an expert in an area or who takes part in an activity, (2) someone employed or holds a position in an area, (3) someone possessing particular characteristics relating to a topic or area, (4) someone (in this case explicitly male) of a certain nationality or sub-national geographical identity (not a universal use which varied according to the structure of the root word (other suffixes including –an, -ian etc) or (5) in Admiralty jargon, a ship which has special characteristics relating to a trade or area (‎merchantman, ‎Greenlandman etc) which produced the amusing linguistic paradox of forms such as “she’s a merchantman” because of the convention ships were always referred to in the feminine.  Man was from the Middle English man, from the Old English mann (human being, person, man), from the Proto-West Germanic mann, from the Proto-Germanic mann-, from the primitive Indo-European mon- (human being, man”).

The derived form statesmanship described an idealized conception of how a politician should behave.  It's now less common, probably less so because the standard of politicians has so obviously declined than a reluctance to use a word thought gender-loaded; to say "statesmanship" might now be thought a micro-aggression.  The suffix -ship was from the Middle English -schipe & -shippe, from the Old English -sċiepe, from the Proto-West Germanic -skapi, from the Proto-Germanic -skapiz.  The equivalent forms in other languages included the Scots -schip, the West Frisian -skip, the Dutch -schap, the German -schaft, the Swedish -skap and the Icelandic -skapur.  It was appended to nouns to form a new noun denoting a property or state of being, time spent in a role, or a specialized union, a popular use being the way a set of social duties associated with a particular role shape or develop one's character (fellowship, ownership et al).  Other suffixes used for similar purposes (property or state of being) include -ness, -hood, -itude, -th, -ity & -dom.

Meeting a statesman: Lindsay Lohan meeting with Recep Tayyip Erdoğan (b 1954; prime-minister or president of the Republic of Türkiye since 2003), Ankara, 27 January 2017.

The informal noun superstatesman is used to refer to someone especially successful (especially in international relations) while to say of someone or their actions that they possess the quality of being unstatesmanlike, it’s a criticism which implies they have not reached the expected standard (ie they’re acting more like a politician).  The term "elder statesman" generally is used either of (1) a respected political leader (not of necessity all that elderly but usually retired or at least withdrawn from the controversies of front-line politics) or (2), by extension, a prominent and respected person in any field who usually is retired or inactive with their involvement restricted to commentaries.  Statesman & statesmanship are nouns and statesmanlike & statesmanly are adjectives; the noun plural is statesmen (except in commercial use when Statesman is used as a product name in which case the plural should be Statesmans (although Statesmen seems not uncommon)).  The feminine noun stateswoman and the gender-neutral statesperson are more recent creations (both with the same derived adjectives on the model of those from statesman) and notably used less frequently.

The usually told joke is that a statesman is a “dead politician” and there’s some element of truth in that because the reputation of politicians certainly seems often to improve once they’ve had the decency to drop dead.  Unfairly or not, politicians often are characterized those dedicated to the pursuit of power, advancing their own interests or those of their party and making decisions that cater to short-term political gains (although they also have a great interest in accumulating money and many taxpayers would be surprised to learn just how much of their money ends up each year in the bank accounts of politicians; such is the array of “allowances & entitlements” (often opaque and sometimes secret) that the total is some distance from their notional annual salary).  Anyway, because the focus of a politician is on winning elections and pursuing the agendas of whomever is funding them (or offering to in their post-political life), the term “politician” usually carries negative connotations, implying opportunism, manipulation and a lack of concern for anything except self-interest.  Old Jack Lang (1876–1975; Premier of New South Wales 1925-1927 & 1930-1932) used to tell the young seeking a career in politics his best advice was "...in any race, always back the horse called self-interest; it'll be the only one having a go."

Two statesmen meeting to discuss matters of common interest: Dr Henry Kissinger (b 1923; US national security advisor 1969-1975 & secretary of state 1937-1977, left) and General Augusto Pinochet (1915-2006; dictator of Chile 1973-1990, right), Santiago, Chile, 1976. 

The term statesman carries usually positive connotations and is associated with someone in public life who has demonstrated wisdom, integrity and a vision which includes the interest of the public and this rare breed is characterized by their commitment to serving the greater good, often transcending narrow partisan interests in favor of broader national or societal goals.  It’s probably easier for a politician to be thought statesmanlike if they come into office having already established an illustrious reputation through pervious public service, such as Dwight Eisenhower (1890-1969; US president 1953-1961) who, before he entered the White House, was one of the nation’s most respected soldiers.  Actually, in the US where appointments to the cabinet don’t require election, it’s more likely one can be thought a statesman because one need never dirty one’s hands with the nasty business of electoral politics.  Serving as secretary of state for a scant twelve months between 1950-1951, General George Marshall (1880–1959; US Army chief of staff 1939-1945) is remembered as a “great statesman” because he looked the part and the Marshall Plan (the post-war re-financing of Europe with US dollars) bore his name although it was something he neither conceived, designed or administered.  Another of America’s chief diplomats, Dr Henry Kissinger, is still described by some as a “great statesman” (although many others prefer “war criminal”).  Certainly, politicians good and evil are aware that how they’re remembered is based on who gets to write the histories.  Late in World War II (1939-1945), when things really weren’t going well for the Nazis, Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945), well aware of the enormity of the crimes the regime (of which he was a prominent part) had committed and one of the few realists among a generally deluded lot, was said to have commented: “Either we are going to go down in history as the greatest statesmen of all time, or as the greatest criminals.”  Although that phrase has for decades been attributed to him, it’s not certain he used quite those words but his diary entries and collaborated contemporary testimony from others leave little doubt that was what was on his mind.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) had no doubt what qualities defined statesmanship.  In the prison diary assembled from the huge volume of fragments he had smuggled out of Spandau prison while serving the twenty year sentence he was lucky to receive for war crimes & crimes against humanity (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau, the Secret Diaries), pp 451 William Collins Inc, 1976), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) recounted one of the Führer's not infrequent monologues, a small part of which mentioned the matter:

“Whoever succeeds me must be sure to have an opening for a new war.  We never want a static situation where that sort of thing hangs in doubt In future peace treaties we must therefore always leave open a few questions that will provide a pretext.  Think of Rome and Carthage, for instance. A new war was always built right into every peace treaty. That's Rome for you! That's statesmanship.” 

The Holden Statesman

1971 Ford ZD Fairlane 500.  The industry legend was the development budget for the original ZA Fairlane in 1967 was "three quarters of four-fifths of fuck all".  Like the basic vehicle, the styling updates were borrowed from earlier US Fords so the effort required was about as minimal as the budget. 

Holden was the General Motors (GM) outpost in Australia and in the 1950s and 1960s, for a variety of reasons (not wholly related to the dynamic qualities of the cars they sold), the operation had been highly successful, for many years enjoying a market share as high as 50% odd.  By the early 1970s, increased competition had eroded Holden’s dominance although it remained the market leader in most sectors it contested with one exception: the executive sedan.  Ford in 1967 had effectively re-defined this market by conjuring up a long-wheelbase version of the mass-market Falcon which overnight rendered obsolete some of the antiquated British competition and provided an attractively less expensive alternative to the bigger Fords, Chevrolets, Pontiacs and Dodges, imported via Canada to take advantage of the lower tariffs imposed on products from the Commonwealth (the successor regime to the old imperial preference scheme).  Although well-suited to Australian conditions, the US cars were becoming increasingly expensive because of movements in the exchange rate (the Bretton-Woods system (1944) of “fixed” currency rates was more an interacting series of “managed floats”).  So, developed very cheaply with only detail changes and some (what now seems modest) bling, the elongated Falcon was in 1967 released under the Fairlane name (used earlier in Australia for both a full-sized and intermediate North American import) and it proved an instant success, selling not only in large numbers but with a profit margin unmatched in the local industry.  Of course, one victim of this success was Ford’s own imported Galaxie, sales of which slowed to a trickle, demand now restricted mostly to governments which admired the "statesmanlike" presence the big machines lent the politicians being chauffeured around.  The Galaxies would remain available in Australia until 1973.

1968 HK Holden Brougham.

Holden couldn’t let such an obvious market be ignored but their first response seems bizarre and was treated as such at the time.  Instead of following Ford’s lead and stretching their platform to create a long wheelbase alternative, Holden took their previous top-of-the-line Premier and extended the trunk (boot) by eight inches (200 mm), increasing luggage capacity and presumably pleasing those carrying stuff like bags of golf clubs but that really answered a question nobody had been asking.  Named the Brougham (a name with a tradition dating back to horseless carriages but rapidly becoming popular with US manufacturers), ascetically, the long-tail really didn’t work because it rendered the shape fundamentally unbalanced and the market response was muted, Brougham sales never making a dent in the Fairlane’s dominance.  Time has been kinder and the Brougham now has a cult following among collectors, especially the early versions which used a 307 cubic inch Chevrolet V8 because Holden's own 308 hadn't reached production.  Ironically, the mildly-tuned 307 isn't one of the more highly regarded iterations of the small-block Chevrolet V8 but the allure of the name remains strong.  In the early 1980s, when the things were unwanted and could be bought for a few hundred dollars, one enterprising customizer built a two-door version and while some of the detailing was lacking, the basic lines worked surprisingly well but as Chrysler and Ford discovered in the 1970s, although the market for such things in the US was huge (the segment was called "the personal coupe"), in Australia it was was small and shrinking so it's as well Holden didn't try their own.

1971 Holden Statesman De Ville.

In 1971, Holden did respond with a long wheelbase executive sedan, this time called the Statesman.  Apparently, there had previously been only one short-lived car called a Statesman (joining a governmental-themed roll-call manufacturers had previously used including Senator, Diplomat, President, Ambassador, Envoy and even Dictator).  This time, the styling was outstanding and, especially if buyers could resist the lure of the then inexplicably popular vinyl roof, the Statesman was an elegant execution, details such as the split egg-crate grill especially admired.  The frontal treatment was also a clever design because the whole HQ range used a “nose-cone” making face-lifts much cheaper and the same approach applied to the tail, the tail-lamps used on the commercial range and the station wagons re-purposed.  Holden had learned well from Ford’s example.  Structurally, the Statesman following the Fairlane’s price points, the basic car aimed at the hire-car market and available with a six cylinder engine and bench seats to make it a genuine six-seater while the Statesman De Ville featured a higher level of trim and used either Holden’s 308 cubic inch (5.0 litre) or the imported Chevrolet 350 (5.7).  Just to emphasize how special the Statesman was, the Holden name didn’t appear either on the car or its advertising, the local operation instead seeking, and receiving, GM’s permission to used Cadillac’s famous wreath on the badge.  All the publicity material said "Statesman by General Motors" but few were fooled and eventually the trickery was abandoned.

The misstep Ford got away with: The 1972 ZF Fairlane (left) was criticized because it looked little different from the basic Falcon; the 1976 ZH (right) rectified that, an eight-year old US design this time providing the template.

The Statesman sold better than the Brougham but didn’t threaten the Fairlane’s dominant position in the sector, even though Ford in 1972 made the fundamental mistake when releasing its new version of not ensuring there was sufficient product differentiation; the new ZF Fairlane looked like a somewhat bloated XA Falcon but such was the inertia of the name and the solid reputation for reliability and resale value that fleet-managers and private buyers remained loyal and it wouldn’t be until 1976 that the problem of the Fairlane’s comparative anonymity was rectified and that by bolting on the styling from the 1968 Mercury; that’s how things were done then.  However, Ford in 1973 scored its other big hit by stretching the Falcon still further to create the LTD, a capable but gaudy machine which so appealed to governments and corporations that it for decades dominated those fleets.  Like the Fairlane, the LTD was a highly profitable package developed at low cost and noted for its bling such as the aviation style controls for the air-conditioning.  With the coming of the LTD, the imported Galaxie was withdrawn from the Australian market.

1976 Holden HJ Statesman Caprice: The increasingly baroque touches added during the face-lifts ("heavy-handed" the phrase used at the time) meant the later versions lacked the purity of the HQ, the delicate lines of which were the high-water mark of Holden's styling.     

Holden made no attempt to match the LTD, leaving the lucrative segment to Ford while the Statesman soldiered on although, matching the Fairlane, the slow-selling base model was dropped when the range was revised in 1974, along with the Chevrolet 350 V8 which had been fitted only to around 600 Statesmans (some of which were exported to New Zealand and South Africa with some unpleasing detail changes).  The structure of the range changed with the De Ville now the base car and a new model, the Caprice, sitting atop, the differences between the two all in bling, the mechanical specification identical, both using the Holden 308 V8 and the now more reliable Trimatic automatic transmission.  Through two face-lifts (HJ & HX), the Statesman was relatively unchanged during the troubled and difficult mid 1970s, most attention devoted to devising plumbing to lower emissions, something which worked but at the cost also of decreasing power and drivability; all that increased was the fuel consumption and the price.

1979 Holden Statesman SL/E.

However, in 1979, Holden surprised the market by splicing a new Statesman between the De Ville & Caprice: the Statesman SL/E.  Although mechanically unchanged from the rest of the range, the SL/E was advertised as the “sporty” Statesman, something made vaguely plausible by the huge improvement in handling rendered when the HZ cars were released in 1978 with what Holden called “radial tuned suspension” (RTS).  Unfortunately, the market found the idea of a “sporty Statesman” about as improbable as the conjunction sounds and the car was not a success, presumably because it was neither one thing or the other, the De Ville fundamentally the same only cheaper and the Caprice better equipped and more prestigious.  Whether the SL/E might have been better received had there been a genuine attempt to improve performance can't be known but power without an increase in emissions was hard to find in 1979 and Holden had the misfortune within a couple of months of the launch, the “second oil-shock” hit and V8 engines were suddenly again unfashionable.  Fortunately for Holden, the SL/E had not been an expensive programme, the wheels, badges and much of the bling borrowed from models already in production.

1982 Holden Caprice.

Still, the price of petrol not withstanding, by then, the next model Statesman was locked in for release in 1980.  The WB Statesman De Ville & Caprice existed because, cognizant of the uncertainty around the stability of the world oil market, Holden had replaced their mainstream range with the Commodore, a smaller (critically, narrower) car based on a European platform developed by Opel, GM’s German outpost.  The smaller machine was not suitable as the base for a Fairlane competitor so the decision was taken to update the HZ, even though the platform dated back to 1971.  What was achieved was commendable given the budget although the designers were disappointed that with the release of the new Fairlane & LTD in 1979, Ford had staged a pre-emptive hit with the six-window roof-line Holden had planned as their exclusive.  One genuine difference though was the Caprice’s hand-assembled grill, made from metal in an age when extruded plastic assemblies had long become industry practice but although much admired, it wasn’t enough to save the dated platform and the last Statesmans left the factory in 1985.  Holden did though flirt with a stay of execution because by 1982 it was clear the world would soon be awash with oil (what would come to be called the "oil glut"; the CIA's infamous 1975 prediction the world would "...by 1983 run out of oil" clearly wrong) and there were thoughts of a "low cost" version of the WB Statesman, resurrecting a proposal which seriously had been contemplated during the previous decade.  That was a response to the booming sales Ford was enjoying for it's bigger, wider Falcon range but the decision was taken to focus efforts instead on a bigger, wider Commodore, a vehicle released in 1988 which enjoyed great success.     

Publicity shot for 1983 Holden Statesman De Ville Magnum.

One quirk of the WB’s life however was that Peter Brock (1945–2006), a racing car driver who had created a successful business selling modified, high-performance Commodores, decided to resurrect the Statesman SL/E but this time make it genuinely “sporty”.  Labeled the Statesman Magnum, the car could be based on either the De Ville or Caprice according the buyer’s taste & budget and because Brock’s record-keeping was at the time a little haphazard, it’s not clear how many were built and it may not even have reached three figures.  Unlike the SL/E, the Magnum's 308 V8 benefited from the addition of the improved components Brock used on the Commodores: the cylinder heads, inlet manifold, air cleaner and exhaust system combining to produce a significant lift in output (power increasing from 170 to 250 hp (126 to 188kW) while, perhaps more relevantly for the target market, torque rose from 265 to 315 lb/ft (361 to 428Nm)).  Nor was the chassis neglected, Bilstein gas shock absorbers added all round while the front suspension geometry was revised and up-rated springs were fitted, the anti-roll bars thicker & stiffer.  Externally, most striking were the 16 x 8-inch Momo Polaris aluminium wheels while a variety of color schemes were offered, including the toning down of the chrome fittings to something darker and more menacing.  The press response was favorable, the already fine dynamics the platform had possessed since the debut of RTS now able better to be exploited with the additional power the Magnum provided, more than matching even the Chevrolet 350 fitted to some HQ Statesmans which had been offered only in a mild state of tune.  However, as the American industry had discovered in the 1960s, those who want high-performance vehicles prefer usually that they be in smaller packages and, as Ford two decades would re-discover when the Fairlane G220 was greeted with a polite yawn, those who wanted big luxury and those who wanted something smaller and “sporty” were two different populations, at least at certain stages in their lives.  In a sense though, Holden had the last laugh, the Statesman and Caprice later revived when the Commodore became larger and better suited to a wheelbase stretch and together they first out-sold and then outlived the Fairlane & LTD.

Wraith

Wraith (pronounced reyth)

(1) The apparition of a person living (or thought to be alive), said to appear as a portent of impending death.

(2) A visible spirit; a ghost or any apparition.

(3) In art or graphic design, a a deliberately insubstantial (sometimes even translucent) copy or representation of something.

(4) Something pale, thin and lacking in substance (a column of smoke; swirling mist etc).

1510s: A word of uncertain etymology.  Some trace it back to an Old English from the Old Norse reith or reidh (twisted or angry) and in Old English it evolved into wrethe (used generally to refer to “anger, fury or vengeance”).  As Middle English emerged it shifted to wraith which came to be associated with “a ghost or spirit, especially one thought to be the spirit of one dead or about to die”.  The link between the earlier meanings of anger and the later association with spirits may reflect the origins of the modern idea of “a restless or vengeful spirit”.  Most however prefer a connection with early sixteenth century Middle Scots, some suggesting it was from a translation of the Aeneid (29-19 BC), the epic poem written by the Roman poet Virgil (Publius Vergilius Maro (70–19 BC)) which recounts the legend of Aeneas, a Trojan who fled the fall of Troy to travelled to Italy, where he became the ancestor of the Romans.  That view has limited support although many etymologist do seem to agree it was in Middle Scots the form was first popularized, probably as warth, word meaning something like or related to “ghost”, the word perhaps from the Old Norse vorðr (“watcher or guardian” (in the sense of “guardian angel”), source of the Icelandic vörður (guard) and which may also have been an influence on the Gaelic & Irish arrach (specter, apparition)."  Wraith & wrathfulness are nouns, wraithlike, wraithesque, wraithful & wraithish are adjectives and wrathfully is an adverb; the noun plural is wraiths.

A wraith-like Lindsay Lohan, Las Angeles, 2008.  In art or graphic design, a wraith is a deliberately insubstantial (sometimes even translucent) copy or representation of something.  It’s used also of something or someone pale and thin, especially in reaction to sudden or considerable weight-loss.

More speculative is the idea of any link with the Middle English wray or bewray and few are convinced any exist despite the similarity in form (something anyway hardly unusual in English).  Even the origin of wray is contested although the orthodox history contends it was from the Middle English wrayen, wraien & wreien (to show, make known, accuse), from the Old English wrēġan (to urge, incite, stir up, accuse, impeach), from the Proto-Germanic wrōgijaną (to tell; tell on; announce; accuse), from the primitive Indo-European were- or wrē- (to tell; speak; shout).  It was said to be akin to the Dutch wroegen (to blame), the German rügen (to reprove) and the Swedish röja (to betray; reveal; expose).  Beray was from the Middle English bewraien, bewreyen & biwreyen, from the Old English bewrēġan, from the Proto-Germanic biwrōgijaną (to speak about; tell on; inform of), the construct being be- +‎ wray.  It was cognate with the Old Frisian biwrōgja (to disclose, reveal), the Dutch bewroegen (to blame; accuse), the Middle Low German bewrȫgen (to accuse; complain about; punish), the Old High German biruogen (to disclose, reveal) and the Modern German berügen (to defraud).  The attraction of the idea of a relationship between wray or beray and wraith is the use of wraith to mean a “vengeful” spirit.

JRR Tolkien (1892–1973), a philologist (is the study of language in oral and written historical sources) of some note, favored a link with writhe on the basis of the sense of “writhing; bodily distorted” (as in a ghost or apparition).  Writhe was from the Middle English writhen, from the Old English wrīþan, from the Proto-West Germanic wrīþan, from the Proto-Germanic wrīþaną (to weave, twist, turn), from the primitive Indo-European wreyt- (to twist, writhe).  It was cognate with the Middle Dutch writen (to turn, twist), the dialectal German reiden (to turn; twist around), the Danish vride (to twist), the Swedish vrida (to turn, twist, wind) and the French rider (to wrinkle, furrow, ruffle).

Not quite what she meant: Gretchen Wieners (Lacey Chabert (b 1982)) in Mean Girls (2004).

In late eighteenth century English, the noun “fetch” could mean “apparition of a living person, specter, a double”, from fetch-life (a deity, spirit, etc who guides the soul of a dead person to the afterlife (a psychopomp)) the source an English dialect word of unknown origin but which may have been from the Old English fæcce (evil spirit formerly thought to sit on the chest of a sleeping person; a mare) and may have been related to or even from the Old Irish fáith (seer, soothsayer).  The (now archaic) "fetch candle" was a mysterious light, which, when seen at night, was believed to foretell a person's death.  The Irish idea of the fetch and the fetch light describes the apparition associated with impending death (commonly in English now called a wraith).  The fetch or wraith was a doppelganger (double) of the dying who appeared when the time was approaching for them to need their spirit to guide them to the afterworld (ie act as a psychopomp).  The poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822) and the writer Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1749–1832) are among those who described seeing their own wraiths although most are said to have been visible only to those surrounding the dying.

1952 Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith with touring limousine coachwork by Park Ward.

Rolls-Royce has for almost a century used model names which summon imagery of the silently ethereal including Ghost, Phantom, Seraph, Shadow, Spirit, Spectre & Wraith.  The first Wraiths were introduced in 1938 and although World War II (1939-1945) interrupted things, almost 500 chassis left the factory between then and 1946.  The name was revived in 1946 when the company introduced their first post-war model as the Silver Wraith and although stylistically there would be nothing like the imaginative lines of the new US cars, the underpinnings were significantly modernized and the model would remain in the catalogue until 1958 with almost 2000 chassis produced.  Unlike the smaller Silver Dawn (1949-1955), the factory would only ever supply the Wraith rolling chassis to coachbuilders who would fabricate the bodies in accordance with customer preference although, the (slightly) higher-performance Bentley version was available with what came to be known as the “standard steel body”.

1971 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow long-wheelbase (LWB) saloon with central division (top) and 1979 Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith (bottom).

Within two years of the introduction of the Silver Shadow (1965-1980), a long-wheelbase (“LWB” which gained an additional 4 inches (100 mm) odd of rear-seat leg room) version had been produced and this configuration was introduced as a factory option in most markets between 1969-1971.  Built sometimes with an electrically operated glass division (the associated hardware absorbing most of the gained rear legroom) production continued on a small scale until 1976 when the Silver Shadow II was released at which point the LWB was re-branded as the Sliver Wraith II, incorporating not only the Shadow’s worthwhile mechanical improvements (which was good) but also carrying-over the vinyl roof (which was bad).  Rolls-Royce always used a brand of high-quality vinyl called “Everflex” and never used the word “vinyl”.  The re-naming followed the practice adopted in 1971 when the Silver Shadow two-door saloon (1966-1971) and convertible (1967-1971 and then known as a Drophead Coupé (DHC)) was renamed Corniche which, in convertible form would last until 1995, the saloon retired in 1980.

2015 Rolls-Royce Wraith.  The “Starlight headliner” was fabricated by weaving some 1300 strands of fibre-optic cable into the ceiling’s leather lining.  In the US market the option listed at US$14,700, a cost which reflected the high labor component in the production process and it should be compared with the bespoke audio system option which cost US$8,625 (the bulk of the input costs of the audio system was in mass-produced solid-state components).  Rolls-Royce has confirmed the 2023 Wraiths will be their last V12 coupés, the replacement (electric) Spectre going on sale in 2024. 

When introduced in 2013, it was the first time since 1946 the word “Wraith” had been used by the factory as a stand-alone model name.  Only ever available as a two door hardtop (no central pillar) coupé, the Wraith used the highly regarded 6.6 litre (402 cubic inch), twin-turbocharged BMW V12 used in their flagship 7 Series (G11 2015-2022) in happier times.  As is the modern practice at Rolls-Royce, a number of limited production runs of special models were available in the decade the Wraith was made but the platform also attracted the tuners, some emphasizing addition power, some additional stuff, all with high-price tags.

Mansory’s original version of the Rolls-Royce Wraith (top) was almost restrained, something later abandoned when the “Palm Edition 999” (bottom) was released.

German-based Mansory modifies high-priced cars, boosting both power and bling.  A particular specialty is carbon-fibre fabrication, the standard of their work acknowledged as world class and their approach to engineering is also sound, something not always achieved by those who make already highly tuned engines more powerful still.  The appearance (inside & out) of the machinery they modify doesn’t suit all tastes but their success proves a market exists for such things and their sales in markets like the Middle East and India proves that east of Suez there’s a receptive (and rich) audience.  Things from Rolls-Royce, Ferrari et al are anyway expensive but for Mansory (an others) the target market is not millionaires but billionaires, some of the latter needing accessories to prove they’re not merely one of the former.  Just to make sure the message was getting through however, when Rolls-Royce released their SUV (sports utility vehicle), Mansory badged their take as the Rolls-Royce Cullinan Mansory Billionaire (the project a co-development with the German fashion house Billionaire).  Disappointingly perhaps, it was advertised with a list price well under US$1 million.  In the long-running cartoon show The Simpsons, nuclear power-plant co-owner C Montgomery Burns used the phrase “price taggery” in one sense but it's applied also when discussing Veblen goods produced for the "conspicuous consumption" market; there, the purpose of the product is to advertise one's disposable income and a well-publicized (high) price-tag is essential.  

The electric Rolls-Royce Spectre.  Instead of an internal combustion engine, the Spectre is powered by two electric motors producing a combined net 577 horsepower and 664 pound-feet of torque.  There was a time when Rolls-Royce would never have painted their cars purple but the catchment of those with the resources to buy or lease (rent) such things has expanded to include many whose tastes come from different traditions.  It's not the difference between good and bad taste; it's just a difference.

Rolls-Royce has announced its intention by 2030 to offer a range of vehicles powered exclusively by electric propulsion.  For Rolls-Royce, the engineering and financial challenges aside, the obstacles are few because, unlike an operation like Ferrari which for decades has based part of its mystique on the noise its engines make at full-cry, it has always put a premium of silence and smoothness.  Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) said it was the howl of the V12 Packard engines (which he dubbed “the song of 12”) he heard on the race tracks which convinced him to make the V12 the signature configuration for the cars which would bear his name but for Charles Rolls (1877–1910), the co-founder of Rolls-Royce, the most influential sound was its absence.  In 1904, he had the opportunity to ride in Columbia Electric car and, knowing what so many of his customers craved, was most impressed, noting: “The electric car is perfectly noiseless and clean. There is no smell or vibration. They should become very useful when fixed charging stations can be arranged.”  So, in 120-odd years not much has changed.  Ferrari are doubtlessly hoping the hydrogen re-fueling infrastructure develops at a similarly helpful rate, the exhaust note from exploding hydrogen able to be as intoxicating as that of burning hydrocarbons.

Loafer

Loafer (pronounced loh-fer)

(1) A person who loafs about; a lazy idler; a lay-about.

(2) A name for a moccasin-like, laceless, slip-on shoe, worn by both men and women.

(3) In some south-western US dialects, a wolf, especially a grey or timber wolf (often in the compound form “loafer wolf).

1830: The construct was loaf + -er.  Loaf was from the From Middle English lof & laf, from the Old English hlāf (bread, loaf of bread), from the Proto-West Germanic hlaib, from the Proto-Germanic hlaibaz (bread, loaf), of uncertain origin but which may be related to the Old English hlifian (to stand out prominently, tower up). It was cognate with the Scots laif (loaf), the German Laib (loaf), the Swedish lev (loaf), the Russian хлеб (xleb) (bread, loaf) and the Polish chleb (bread).  It was used to mean (1) a block of bread after baking, (2) any solid block of food, such as meat or sugar, (3) a solid block of soap, from which standard bar (or cake) of soap is cut or (4) in cellular automata, a particular still life configuration with seven living cells.  The origin of “use your loaf” meaning “think about it” in Cockney rhyming slang was as a shortened form of “loaf of bread” (ie “use your head”).  The –er suffix was from the Middle English –er & -ere, from the Old English -ere, from the Proto-Germanic -ārijaz, thought most likely to have been borrowed from the Latin –ārius where, as a suffix, it was used to form adjectives from nouns or numerals.  In English, the –er suffix, when added to a verb, created an agent noun: the person or thing that doing the action indicated by the root verb.   The use in English was reinforced by the synonymous but unrelated Old French –or & -eor (the Anglo-Norman variant -our), from the Latin -ātor & -tor, from the primitive Indo-European -tōr.  When appended to a noun, it created the noun denoting an occupation or describing the person whose occupation is the noun.  Loafer & loafing are nouns & verbs, loafed, loafering & loafered are verbs and loaferish is an adjective; the noun plural is loafers.

The use to describe “a lazy idler” was first documented in 1830 as an Americanism which may have been short for landloafer (vagabond), similar (though not necessarily related) to the obsolete nineteenth century German Landläufer (vagabond) or the Dutch landloper.  Etymologists suggest landloafer may have been a partial translation of a circa 1995 loan-translation of the German Landläufer as “land loper” (and may be compared with the dialectal German loofen (to run) and the English landlouper) but this has little support and most regard a more likely connection being the Middle English love, loove, loffinge & looffinge (a remnant, the rest, that which remains or lingers), from Old English lāf (remainder, residue, what is left), which was akin to Scots lave (the rest, remainder), the Old English lǣfan (to let remain, leave behind).  One amusing coincidence was that in Old English hlaf-aeta (household servant) translated literally as “loaf-eater” (ie, one who eats the bread of his master, suggesting the Anglo-Saxons might still have felt the etymological sense of their lord & master as the “loaf-guard”.  The expression "one mustn't despair because one slice has been cut from the loaf" describes a pragmatic reaction to learning one's unmarried daughter has been de-flowered and is said to be of Yiddish origin but no source has ever been cited.  In modern idomatic use, the derived phrases "a slice off a cut loaf is never missed" and "you never miss a slice from a cut loaf" refer to having enjoyed sexual intercourse with someone who is not a virgin, the idea being that once the end of a loaf (the crust) has been removed, it's not immediately obvious how many slices have been cut. 

The loafer is a style, a slip-on shoe which is essentially a slipper designed as an all-weather shoe for outdoor use.  They’re available in a wide range of styles from many manufacturers and this image is just a few of the dozens recently offered by Gucci.  In the old Soviet Union (the USSR; 1922-1991), there were usually two (when available): one for men and one for women, both (sometimes) available in black or brown.

The verb loaf was first documented in 1835 in US English, apparently a back-formation from the earlier loafer and loafed & loafing soon emerged.  The noun in the sense of “an act of loafing” was in use by 1855.  What constitutes loafing is very much something subjective; a student underachieving in Latin might be thought a loafer by a professor of classics but the “hard working, much published” don who in his whole career never lifted anything much heavier than a book would probably be dismissed as “a loafer” by the laborer digging the trench beneath his study.  A “tavern loafer” was one who spent his hours drinking in bars while a “street loafer” was a synonym for a “delinquent who hung about on street corners”.  Loafer as a description of footwear dates from 1937 and it was used of lace-less, slip-on shoes worn on less formal occasions (essentially slippers designed for outdoor use, a popular early version of which was the “penny loafer”, so named because it featured an ornamental slotted leather band across the upper where a coin was often mounted.  The use in some south-western dialects as “loafer” or “loafer wolf” to describe a grey or timber wolf is based on the American Spanish lobo (wolf), reinterpreted as or conflated with loafer (idler).

Rowan Williams (b 1950; Archbishop of Canterbury 2002-2012) admiring Benedict XVI’s (1927–2022; pope 2005-2013, pope emeritus 2013-2022) red loafers, Lambeth Palace, September 2010.

When in 2013 announced he was resigning the papacy, there was much discussion of what might be the doctrinal or political implications but a few fashionistas also bid farewell to the best-dressed pontiff for probably a century and the one Esquire magazine had named “accessorizer of the year”.  In recent memory, the world had become accustomed to the white-robed John Paul II (1920–2005; pope 1978-2005) who would don colorful garments for ceremonial occasions but never wore them with great élan and eschewed the use of the more elaborate, perhaps influenced by Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) whose reign was marked by a gradual sartorial simplification and he was the last pope to wear the triple tiara which had since the early Middle Ages been a symbol of papal authority; briefly it sat on his head on the day of his coronation before, in an “act of humility”, it was placed on the alter where, symbolically, it has since remained.

The pope and the archbishop discuss the practicalities of cobbling.

Benedict’s pontificate however was eight stylish years, the immaculately tailored white caped cassock (the simar) his core piece of such monochromatic simplicity that it drew attention to the many adornments and accessories he used which included billowing scarlet satin chasubles trimmed with crimson velvet and delicate gold piping and others woven in emerald-green watered silk with a pattern of golden stars.  Much admired also was the mozzetta, a waist-length cape, and the camauro, a red velvet cap with a white fur border that around the world people compared with the usual dress of Santa Claus, X (then known as twitter) quickly fleshing out the history of the Coca-Cola Corporation’s role in creating the “uniform” although there was some exaggeration, the Santa-suit and hat familiar by at least the 1870s although Coca-Cola’s use in advertizing did seem to drive out all colors except red.  On popes however, the red velvet and white fur trim had been around for centuries though it fell from fashion after the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II; 1962-1965) and was thus a novelty when Benedict revived the style.

The pope farewells the archbishop.

Not all (including some cardinals) appreciated the papal bling but what attracted most attention were his bright red loafers, a style of shoe which popes have been depicted wearing since Roman times and the Holy See was forced to issue a statement denying they were hand-crafted by the high-end Italian fashion house Prada.  In their press release, the Vatican’s Press Office reminded the world the red symbolizes martyrdom and the Passion of Christ, the shoes there to signify the pope following in the footsteps of Christ.  Rather than a fashion house, the papal loafers were the work of two Italian artisan cobblers: Adriano Stefanelli and Antonio Arellano and Signor Stefanelli’s connections with the Vatican began when he offered to make shoes for John Paul II after noticing his obvious discomfort during a television broadcast.  Signor Arellano had a longer link with Benedict’s feet, having been his cobbler when, as Joseph Ratzinger, he was the cardinal heading the Inquisition (now called the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF)) and as soon as Benedict’s surprise elevation was announced, he went immediately to his last and made a pair of red loafers for him (he’s an Italian size 42 (a UK 8 & a US 9)).  Upon his resignation, as pope emeritus, he retired the red loafers in favor of three pairs (two burgundy, one brown) which were a gift from a Mexican cobbler: Armando Martin Dueñas.  Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013) has reverted to the austere ways of Vatican II and wears black shoes.

Channeling Benedict: Lindsay Lohan in red loafers, September 2016.

Kitsch

Kitsch (pronounced kich)

(1) Something though tawdry in design or appearance; an object created to appeal to popular sentiment or undiscriminating tastes, especially if cheap (and thus thought a vulgarity).

(2) Art, decorative objects and other forms of representation of dubious artistic or aesthetic value (many consider this definition too wide).

1926: From the German kitsch (literally “gaudy, trash”), from the dialectal kitschen (to coat; to smear) which in the nineteenth century was used (as a German word) in English in art criticism describe a work as “something thrown together”.  Among “progressive” critics, there was a revival in the 1930s to contrast anything thought conservative or derivative with the avant garde.  The adjective kitchy was first noted in 1965 though it may earlier have been in oral use; the noun kitchiness soon followed. Camp is sometimes used as a synonym and the two can be interchangeable but the core point of camp is that it attributes seriousness to the trivial and trivializes the serious.  Technically, the comparative is kitscher and the superlative kitschest but the more general kitschy is much more common.  The alternative spelling kitch is simply a mistake and was originally 1920s slang for “kitchen” the colloquial shortening dating from 1919.  Kitsch & kitchiness are nouns, kitschify, kitschifying & kitschified are verbs and kitschy is an adjective; the noun plural is kitsch (especially collectively) or kitsches.  Kitschesque is non-standard.

Kitsch can become ironic.  Lava lamps were in the 1970s briefly fashionable as symbols of the modern but were soon re-classified kitsch.  In the twenty-first century, such was the demand that re-creations of the originals became available, bought because they were so kitsch.

For something that lacks and exact definition, kitsch is probably surprisingly well-understood as a concept although not all would agree on what objects are kitsch and what are not.  Nor does is there always a sense about it of a self-imposed exclusionary rule; there are many who cherish objects they happily acknowledge are kitsch.  As a general principle, kitsch is used to describe art, objects or designs thought to be in poor taste or overly sentimental.  Objects condemned as kitsch are often mass-produced, clichéd, gaudy (the term “bling” might have been invented for the kitsch) or cheap imitations of something.  It can take some skill to adopt the approach but other items which can compliments such a thing include rotary dial phones and three ceramic ducks flying up the wall (although when lava lamps were in vogue, lava lamp buyers probably already thought the kitsch.

Lindsay Lohan: Prom Queen scene in Mean Girls (2004).  If rendered in precious metal and studded with diamonds a tiara is not kitsch but something which is the same design but made with anodized plastic and acrylic Rhinestones certainly is.

Führer kitsch: A painting attributed to Adolf Hitler.

The Nazi regime devoted much attention to spectacle and representational architecture and art was a particular interest of Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945).  Hitler in his early adulthood had been a working artist, earning a modest living from his brush while living in Vienna in the years before World War I (1914-1918) and his landscapes and buildings were, if lifeless and uninspired, competent enough to attract buyers.  He was rejected by the academy because he could never master a depiction of the human form, his faces especially lacking, something which has always intrigued psychoanalysts, professional and amateur.  Still, while his mind was completely closed to any art of which he didn’t approve, he was genuinely knowledgeable about many schools of art and better than many he knew what was kitsch.  However, the nature of the “Führer state” meant he had to see much of it because the personality cult built around him encouraged a deluge of Hitler themed pictures, statuettes, lampshades, bedspreads, cigarette lighters and dozens of other items.  A non-smoker, he ordered a crackdown on things like ashtrays but generally the flow of kitsch continued unabated until the demands of the wartime economy prevailed.  In the Berghof, his alpine headquarters on the Bavarian Obersalzberg near Berchtesgaden, there were constant deliveries of things likes cushions embroidered with swastikas in which would now be called designer colors and more than one of his contemporaries in their memoirs recorded that the gifs sometimes would be accompanied by suggestive photographs and offers of marriage.  Truly that was “working towards the Führer”.

Führer kitsch: A painting attributed to Adolf Hitler.

Hitler dutifully acknowledged the many paintings which were little more than regime propaganda although the only works for which he showed any real enthusiasm were those which truly he found beautiful.  However, he knew there was a place for the kitsch… for others.  In July 1939, while being shown around an exhibition staged in Munich called the “Day of German Art”, he complained to the curator that some German artist were not on display and after being told they were “in the cellar”, demanded to know why.  The only one with sufficient strength of character to answer was Frau Gerhardine "Gerdy" Troost (1904–2003), the widow of the Nazi’s first court architect Paul Troost (1878–1934) and one of a handful of women with whom Hitler was prepared to discuss anything substantive.  “Because it’s kitsch” she answered.  Hitler sacked the curatorial committee and appointed his photographer to supervise the exhibition and the depictions of farm-workers in the field and heroic nude warriors returned.

Kitsch: One knows it when one sees it.

What is kitsch will be obvious to some while others will remain oblivious and the disagreements will happen not only at the margins.  Although there will be sensitive souls appalled at the notion, it really is something wholly subjective and the only useful guide is probably to borrow and adapt the threshold test for obscenity coined by Justice Potter Stewart (1915–1985; associate justice of the US Supreme Court 1958-1981) in Jacobellis v Ohio (1964):

I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it…

Kitsch also has a history also of becoming something else.  As recently as the 1970s, tea-towels, placemats, oven mitts, serving trays and plenty else was available in the West adorned with depictions of indigenous peoples, often as racist tropes or featuring the appropriation of culturally sensitive symbols.  These are now regarded as kitsch only historically and have been re-classified as examples variously (depending on the content) of cultural insensitivity or blatant racism.