Elan

Elan (pronounced ay-lahn (U) or e-lan (non-U))

(1) Dash; impetuous ardor; a combination of style and vigour.

(2) In astronomy, as ELAN, the acronym of Enormous Lyman-Alpha Nebula (large gas cloud (nebula) larger than galaxies, found in intergalactic space).

1875–1880: From the Modern French, from the Middle French eslan (a dash, rush), noun derivative of éslancer to (dart).  Élan was thus a deverbal of élancer, the construct being é- (from the Old French es-, from Latin ex- & ē- (the prefix indicating away, moving away from) +‎ lan(cer) (from Old French lancier, from the Late Latin lanceāre, present active infinitive of lanceō, from the Latin lancea.  It was related to the Catalan llançar, the Italian lanciare, the Occitan and Portuguese lançar and the Spanish lanzar.  The sense is best understood by comparison with the French élancer (to throw forth) from the Classical Latin lancea (lance), the Roman auxiliaries' short javelin; a light spear or lance.  Ultimate root is thought to be Celtic/Celtiberian, possibly from the primitive Indo-European plehzk- (to hit) and connected also to the Ancient λόγχη (lónkhē).

Lindsay Lohan in hijab and halal make-up at the inaugural London Modest Fashion Week (LMFW), staged by London-based fashion house Haute Elan, February 2018.

Haute Elan is an interesting example of the novel corporate structures made possible by the distributed connectivity of the internet, acting as an umbrella organization for designers and distributers (output) and a kind of clearing house, offering a conduit for access and enquiries by media and customers (input).  For designers, the attraction is the association with a platform which can reduce the cost of promotional activities while allowing a brand to be built.  Pragmatically, it also reduces the cost of failure.

The companion word is the noun éclat (brilliant display or effect), also used by Lotus as a model name (Types 76 & 84; 1975-1982).  For elan, there’s really no exact single-word synonym in English, the closest including animation, ardor, dash, flair, impetus, life, oomph, panache, spirit, style, verve, vigor, vim, zest, zing, brio, esprit & impetuosity.  The usual spelling in English is elan and it’s often used with a modifier (eg “a certain elan”); the alternative spelling is the French élan.  The alternative spelling is the French élite and use of the French pronunciation the "U" ay-lahn rather than the "non-U" e-lan is one of the "class identifiers" on which readers of publications like Country Life focus when meeting folk.

The Lotus Elan

1962 Lotus Elan S1 DHC.

Lotus introduced the Elan in 1962, production continuing in four series until 1973, a companion four-seat (though really a 2+2) version made for a further two years.  Unlike the its predecessor, the exquisite Elite, the Elan would be offered as a convertible, the range adopting the English nomenclature of the time, the roadster a drop-head coupé (DHC, Type 26 (later 45)) and the closed version, introduced in 1966, a fixed-head coupé (FHC, Type 36).  

Lotus Elan chassis.

Abandoning the expensive and troublesome monocoque shell of the Elite, the Elan used a steel backbone chassis, the body this time a multi-piece affair, made again from fibreglass but using techniques which made it cheaper to manufacturer while maintaining quality; Lotus would use this method of construction for almost three decades.  Just as important was that for the first time, there would be imposed some rigor in standardization and production-line rationalization.  Profits flowed. 

Mrs Emma Peel (Diana Rigg (1938–2020)) in The Avengers (1965–1968).  1966 Lotus Elan S3 DHC. 

Overcoming the fragility of the Elite did come a cost and that was weight, the 1,500 lb (680 kg) Elan heavier by about 385 lb (175 kg) but by any other standard, the new car was still lithe and to compensate, there was more power.  One prototype Elite had been built the new 1.5 litre "Lotus Twin Cam" engine, based on the mundane but lively and tough Ford Kent four-cylinder unit, transformed by the addition of an in-house designed, aluminum double overhead camshaft (DOHC) head and this was adopted as the Elan’s power-plant.  In the Lotus community, some regard the two-dozen odd 1.5 litre cars built as something like prototypes, all subsequent Elans built with 1.6 litre engines although the specifications and power outputs would vary according to improvements made and detuning demanded by emission control laws in some markets.   Like the Kent itself, the DOHC would enjoy a long life in both Ford and Lotus vehicles.

1968 Lotus Elan S3 FHC.

Dynamically, the Elan was from the start acclaimed, even compared to more expensive machines, the performance, handling and economy were the best compromise of the era, the steering especially praised; indeed, that’s one aspect of the Elan which has rarely been matched.  The more professional approach to cost-control and production line efficiencies brought benefits beyond the quality of the cars, Lotus for the first time a genuinely profitable operation, the revenue generating funds not only new models but also the Formula One program of the 1960s which would be the company’s golden era, yielding multiple driver’s and constructor’s championships.  The corollary of being a successful road car however meant it had to be built to appeal to a wider market than the highly strung Elite which had been more at home on the track than the street.  Accordingly, Lotus never envisaged a racing career for the new car, its suspension tuned softly enough to cope with the bumps and undulations of the real world better than the dainty Elite which was at its best exploring its limits on the billiard table-like surface of a racetrack.

1965 Lotus Type 26R.

Owners were however convinced of its potential and around the world, in both standard and unmodified form, the Elan was soon a popular race-car and the factory began to receive requests for parts suitable for competition.  The customer being always right, Lotus responded, factory support soon forthcoming, culminating as early as 1964 in a racing version, the type 26R which featured lighter components, a strengthened drive-train, stiffer suspension, better brakes and more horsepower from a BRM-built engine.

1971 Lotus Elite Sprint DHC.

For the road cars, upgrades were frequent, a detachable hardtop soon offered and luxuries inconceivable in the Elite, such as lush carpeting, walnut trim and electric windows appeared at intervals.  Power increases over the years appear modest, the early versions rated at 105 bhp (78 kW) and the most potent at 126 bhp (94 kW) and there were variations as laws changed but the general trend was upwards.

1975 Lotus Elan +2S 130/5.

The Elan had been very much in the cottage-industry Lotus tradition, offered even in kit form for owners to assemble themselves, a practice which lasted until 1973 when changes to the UK’s value added tax (VAT, the UK’s consumption tax) rendered the practice unviable.  Very different and a harbinger of the Lotus of the 1970s was the Elan +2 (Type 50), introduced in 1967.  Available only as a FHC, although visually inspired by the Elan, the +2 was wider, built on a longer wheelbase and included two rear seats, although the legroom meant they were suitable only for young children.  That however was the target market: the young men (and increasingly, even then, women), for whom a newly arrived family would otherwise have compelled a purchase from another manufacturer after outgrowing their Elan.  Never a big seller, it filled the same niche as Jaguar’s 2+2 E-Type and was popular enough to remain on sale for two years after Elan production ended in 1973, the last versions the most desirable, fitted with the five-speed gearbox included on a handful of the final Elan Sprints.

Well made imitation, the 1989 Mazda Maita (MX-5).

The Elan name was revived for a run of sports cars produced between 1989-1995 which were said to be very good but, being front-wheel drive with all that implies, didn’t capture the imagination in the same way.  The Elan was also the template for Mazda’s very successful MX-5 (labelled in some markets variously as the Roadster or Miata), one of the more blatant pieces of far-east plagiarism, Mazda’s design centre known to have obtained at least two original Elans to study.  A typical Japanese product, the 1989 MX-5 corrected all the Elan’s faults and is probably as close to perfect as any car ever made.

Doughnut

Doughnut (pronounced doh-nuht)

(1) A small cake (of usually sweetened but sometimes unsweetened dough) deep-fried in fat, typically shaped like a ring or a ball and often filled with jam or cream and sometimes glazed.

(2) In engineering, a variety of objects using this shape ranging from transmission connectors to the reaction vessel of a thermonuclear reactor.

(3) As a descriptor, anything in the shape of a thick ring; an annular object; a toroid.

(4) In (informal) parliamentary jargon, to surround a speaker with other members during the filming of a speech to create the illusion the chamber is crowded and people are interested in what he is saying.

(5) In slang, the vulva and (by extension) a woman's virginity, a derived form being the “doughnut bumper” (a lesbian).

(6) In UK colloquial use, a foolish or stupid person (based on the idea of “nut” being used as slang for the head, filled with dough (a soft, inert substance); such a person said also to be “doughy”.

1809: The construct was dough + nut.  Dough was from the Middle English dow, dogh & dagh, from the Old English dāg, from the Proto-Germanic daigaz (dough), from the primitive Indo-European dheygh (to knead, form, mold).  It was cognate with the Scots daich, dauch & doach (dough), the West Frisian daai (dough), the Dutch deeg (dough), the Low German Deeg (dough), the German Teig (dough), the Norwegian Bokmål deig (dough), the Danish dej (dough), the Swedish deg (dough) and the Icelandic deig (dough).  Nut was from the Middle English nute & note, from the Old English hnutu, from the Proto-West Germanic hnut, from the Proto-Germanic hnuts (nut) (the form may be compared with the West Frisian nút, the Dutch noot, the German Nuss, the Danish nød, the Swedish nöt and the Norwegian nøtt), from the root knu-, seen also in the Proto-Celtic knūs (source of Irish cnó) and the Latin nux (nut).  There are etymologists who, noting the form of the nouns and the restriction of the root to Germanic, Celtic and Italic, argue it may be of non-Indo-European origin.  The adoption to mean “fastening device for a bolt” is conventionally traced to the Old English hnutu (hard-shelled fruit with a seed inside (acorn, chestnut etc), based upon (1) the appearance and (2) an analogy between the hard outer shell of a nut and the protective function of the metal nut in securing a bolt (ie a nut, like its botanical counterpart, encases and protects something (in this case, the threaded end of a bolt).  The use has been documented since the early-fifteenth century and has been used in mechanical and engineering contexts since.  The doughnut was so named because it resembles the shape of a nut.  The alternative spelling is donut, the standard form in North America and the form dough-nut is listed by most sources as archaic or extinct.  Doughnut is a noun & verb and doughnutting & doughnutted are verbs; the noun plural is doughnuts.

Box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

The doughnut in the sense of a “small, spongy cake made of dough and fried in lard” seems first to have been identified in 1809 although at that stage it was best described as “a lump” and it’s not clear when the holes became common, the first mention of them apparently in 1861 at which time one writer recorded that in New York City (the old New Amsterdam) they were known also as olycokes (from the Dutch oliekoek (oily cake) and some food guides of the era listed doughnuts and crullers as “types of olycoke”.  The spelling donut was typical of the sensible and pragmatic simplification of spelling in US English and emerged in the mid nineteenth century; the form donnut did not last, the duplicated “n” obviously redundant.  In engineering, the word is widely applied including (1) the reaction vessel of a thermonuclear reactor, (2) a circular life raft, (3) A toroidal vacuum chamber (used in experimental physics), (4) a circular life raft, (5) certain types of aircraft tyres, (6) a spare car tyre smaller than a full-sized tyre and intended only for temporary use.  In idiomatic use, the phrase “bet you a dollar to a donut” fell victim to inflation.  Dating from a time when a donut cost cents, it thus implied odds of something like 20-1.  As used to describe the behaviour in which a car is driven at low speed in circles with the drive wheels spinning, thus leaving a circular track of rubber on the road, the “donut” was first used circa 1981 in the US and it was picked up around the world by males aged 17-25, the donut specialists.

The great Krispy Kreme doughnut heist.

In November 2023, in Sydney, Australia, a Krispy Kreme delivery van loaded with 10,000 freshly fried donuts was stolen from a 7/11 gas station; police established a crime scene and launched an investigation into the incident.  Some two weeks later a 28 year old woman was charged with stealing after the Krispy Kreme van was found abandoned at a nearby car-park in Parramatta.  The donuts were “destroyed”, according to a police spokesman and the authorities later confirmed the suspect would be charged with taking a driving conveyance without the consent of the owner, driving a motor vehicle during a disqualification period and travelling or attempting to travel without a valid ticket.  The woman was refused bail.

A World War II Donut Dolly with rack of domuts.

The dough-boy was something which existed as early as the 1680s but it was something more like a pancake than a donut and doughboys were widely known; because the distinctive buttons on the uniforms worn by soldiers of the American expeditionary forces sent to Europe in 1971 to afforce the Allies in World War I (1914—1918) were the same shape, the soldiers were nicknamed “doughboys”.  Doughnuts were supplied to troops during World War I by a Christian organization, the Salvation Army, which recruited some 250 woman volunteers who settled on the fried items because they could be prepared quickly and cheaply with minimal equipment and required only ingredients which were readily available through most military supply depots.  The doughnuts were originally quite small but, responding to suggestions, the women had a blacksmith fashion a mold for the now now-iconic circular shape with a hole in the centre.  Production at scale soon followed and they were distributed also to civilians; it was at this point, for better and worse, that French society hungrily adopted the doughnut.  During World War II (1939—1945), the system was formalized with the Red Cross taking over the operation and although it was never an official term, the women were popularly known as “donut dollies”, recruited on the basis of (1) being aged 25-35, (2) having a high school diploma, (3) appropriate work experience, (4) good reference letters and (5) “healthy, physically hardy, sociable and attractive”.  By the time of the D-Day landings in Normandy in June 1944, the Red Cross had some hundred British Army buses operating with fully-equipped kitchens and donut-machines provided by the American Donut Company.  The Donuts were served with coffee and the donut dollies were able to supply also those staples of army life: chewing gum and cigarettes.

Rotoflex doughnuts

Totoflex "Doughnut" coupling.

Rotoflex couplings were often used in the 1960s to connect differential output shafts to the rear hubs.  Usually called “rubber doughnut”, they were popular in road cars such as the Triumph GT6 and racing machinery as varied as the Ford GT40 and Lotus 21 because, prior to the availability of suitable constant velocity (CV) joints, there was really no better alternative.  Although subject to wear, usually they worked well but Lotus also used them on the Elan, the rear suspension of which was exceptionally supple rear, providing for significant vertical wheel travel which resulted on the deformation of Rotoflex doughnuts, the phenomenon known as a “wind up”.  While readily detectable by experienced drivers who learned to adjust their clutching technique, it could be disconcerting to those unused to the Elan’s quirks.  In recent years many replacement Rotoflex doughnuts have been manufactured in the Far East and have been of sometimes dubious quality so except for those dedicated to maintaining originality, Many Elans have been converted to use half-shafts built with CV joints.  When in 1971 the Elan was updated with a more powerful engine, the company did experiment with other methods but it was clear the elasticity of the doughnuts was integral to the design and without them the famously precise handling characteristics suffered.  Now however, although they’re expensive, more rigid Rotoflex doughnuts are now available which preserve the precision although at the cost of adding an occasional harshness to the Elan’s exceptionally smooth ride.

Crab Doughnuts: Chiltern Firehouse, London

Chiltern Firehouse Crab Doughnuts Recipe

Ingredients (doughnuts)

540g strong white flour (plus extra to dust)
70g caster sugar
2 tsp Maldon sea salt (plus 1 tbsp to dust)
1 tsp instant yeast
140ml water (room temperature)
4 large free range eggs
Grated zest of 3 un-waxed lemons
130g unsalted butter (thinly sliced and chilled)
500ml sunflower oil (for deep frying, plus extra for greasing)
3 tbsp icing sugar (to dust)
1 tbsp ground cinnamon (to dust)

Ingredients (tomato juice)

10 beef tomatoes (or whatever is the largest variety available)
2 cloves garlic (green germ removed and cloves chopped)
1 shallot (chopped)
¼ red chilli (de-seeded and chopped)
1 tbsp sherry vinegar
1 tbsp fish sauce
Maldon sea salt (to taste)

Ingredients (crab filling)

200g picked white crab meat (from the claws)
2 tbsp tomato juice
2 tbsp crème fraiche
1 tbsp basil leaves (thinly sliced)
2½ tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
Maldon sea salt (to taste)

Instructions (doughnuts)

(1) Place flour, sugar, salt and yeast in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with dough hook attachment and mix at slow speed. In separate bowl, combine water, eggs and lemon zest.

(2) Slowly add liquid mixture to flour mixture (with mixer at slow speed) until it forms a dough. Increase the speed and knead for 10-12 minutes, until the dough comes away from sides of bowl and is smooth and elastic.

(3) Reduce speed to slow and add butter, a slice at a time. Once all butter has been incorporated, increase speed, kneading for a further 5-6 minutes (until sough is smooth).

(4) Cover bowl with clingfilm and place it in the fridge for at least 6 hours or overnight, allowing dough to rest and prove slowly. Next day, oil a baking sheet. Roll dough to a 2cm (¾ inch) thickness on a lightly floured work surface and cut out 80 x 30 mm (3 x 1 ¼ inch) circles. Roll each circle into a ball, placing them on oiled baking sheet. Cover and leave to prove for about 2-3 hours.

(5) Fill a deep saucepan or deep-fat fryer with the sunflower oil (it should be about half-full) and place over a medium heat until it reaches 175˚C. (350˚C).  Deep-fry doughnuts, four at a time, for 2-3 minutes, basting them constantly with the oil until golden brown.  To drain, transfer to a plate lined with kitchen paper.

Instructions (tomato juice)

Cut tomatoes in half and squeeze out seeds. Grate the flesh of the tomatoes on the side of a box grater over a bowl. Place grated tomato flesh in the bowl of a food processor with the remaining ingredients and blend until smooth. Transfer the mixture to a muslin cloth and hang cloth over a bowl for 2 hours.

Instructions (crab filling)

Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix well. Cover and chill until ready to assemble.

Instructions (final assembly)

Cut each doughnut in half and fill it with the chilled crab mixture. Mix the icing sugar in a bowl with the cinnamon and salt, dusting doughnuts with the mix. Serve immediately.  Left-over dough can be cut into 50-60 mm (2-2½ inch) circles and deep-fried until golden brown, then coated in sugar.  They make a quick and indulgent treat.

Parliamentary doughnutting

An improbable Cassandra:  Eric Abetz (b 1958, senator (Liberal Party) for Tasmania) 1994-2022) in the Australian Senate, Monday 26 November 2017, delivering an important speech opposing same-sex marriage, surrounded by his supporters.  This is an example of how "parliamentary doughnutting" would have created a good photo-opportunity.  The tactic is to assemble enough members to create the impression that what is being said (1) matters, (2) is interesting and (3) has some support.

Demi, Hemi & Semi

Demi- (pronounced dem-ee or dem-ahy)

Of less than full size, status, or rank.

Circa 1350s: From the Middle English demi (half, half-sized, partial), from the twelfth century Anglo-Norman demi (half), from the Vulgar Latin dimedius, from the Classical Latin dīmidius, the construct being dis- (apart; in two) + medius (middle).  The French demi which English borrowed was a combining form which existed as noun, adjective, and adverb.  It appears in loanwords from French meaning “half” (demilune), “lesser” (demitasse), or sometimes used with a pejorative sense (demimonde) and, on that model, is also prefixed to words of English origin (eg demigod).

Hemi- (pronounced hem-ee)

A combining form meaning “half,” used in the formation of compound words (eg hemispherical, hemimorphic, hemicardia et al).

Pre 900: From the Middle English hemi from the Ancient Greek prefix ἡμι- (hēmi-) (half), from ἥμισυς (hḗmisus) (half).  It was cognate with the Classical Latin sēmi- and, as a word -forming element meaning "half", was a Middle English borrowing from the Latin hemi- which was taken directly from the Greek hēmi- (half) from the primitive Indo-European semi-, source also of the Sanskrit सामि (sāmí), the Old High German sami- (half) the Old English sam- and others, all soon denoting a partial or imperfect condition as well as the classically correct “half”.

Semi- (pronounced sem-ee)

(1) Half (strictly speaking) as in “semicircle”.

(2) In informal use, a proportion of something less than the whole.

(3) In English, a combining form or prefix (sometimes hyphenated) appended to words of any origin, usually with the senses of “partially,” “incompletely” or “somewhat” (eg semi-final, semi-trailer, semiautomatic, semi-articulated, semi-detached et al).

1400s: From the Middle English semi, from the Latin sēmi- (half).  It was connected with the Old English sōm- & sām- (half) (and related to the modern dialectical sam-), the Old High German sāmi-, the Sanskrit सामि (sāmí) and the Ancient Greek hemi-.  Ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European sēmi.

The word-forming prefixes semi-, hemi-, and demi- all began life meaning “half” but have evolved to mean other things too and exist also not just as prefixes but as stand-alone forms.  As a prefix, there appears to be 951 words with a “semi-” prefix, around 215 with a “hemi-” while a “demi” is appended only to 172, and, although it’s never been a rule, because of the origins, “demi-” is probably best paired with words of French origin, whereas “semi-” is a more natural fit with words with a Latin root.

Semi- may refer to something happening more than once (usually twice) within a certain time and is probably most familiar as “semi-final” to describe the matches of a competition which will determine the finalists.  In English it was used first to mean “half but became soon attached to concepts impossible to quantify (eg semi-abstract; semi-permanent) and thus came to mean also “virtually” or “somewhat.”

Hemi- is often employed in the hard-sciences.  It’s less commonly used than semi-, the association with the technical language of fields such as physics, chemistry, mathematics, biology and anatomy tending to mean it’s applied with more exactitude but even here, practices of use have produced anomalies.  In general use, it’s perhaps best known as a descriptor of the shape of the combustion chamber of certain internal combustion chambers to the extent of “Hemi” the noun being a Stellantis (the holding company of which Chrysler is now a part) trademark, even though many of the engines the company now market as such use a different shape.

Lindsay Lohan in demi-cup bra, photoshoot by Terry Richardson (b 1965) for Love Magazine, 2012.

The demi-cup style is most associated with the “push-up” bra of which Playtex's Wonderbra is the best known.  As the name implies, a demi-cup bra is one where the fabric covers rather less than the mainstream “full cup” bra although not necessarily half, some more revealing than others and the demi-cup is designed better to display the cleavage but need not do so in the exaggerated manner of the push-up bra, almost all of which use a kind of demi-cup.   Many demi-cup bras don't use the push-up engineering though they typically include most of the familiar components (padding, underwires etc).  A variation of the demi style is also inherent to the “plunge bra”, designed to accommodate garments with a low cut but why the industry settled on demi-cup rather than semi-cup isn't known and the term isn't universal, some manufacturers preferring "half cup".  Still, it's definitely all about the cup and to be regarded as a demi bra, it should be constructed with partial cups which cover between 50-75% of the breast and coverage should be the same all across the bra (similar to a balconette bra) as opposed to Plunge or T-Shirt bras where there's a slight dip in the middle.  Additionally, most demis use an underwire in a slightly wider than usual U-shape, evenly arched.

Demi- is used suggest something of less than full-size or status although it doesn’t of necessity imply something inferior.  In English, it’s the rarest of the three forms and, in English, was first used in heraldry, where things like demi-angels, demi-lions, demi-horses were applied to escutcheons.  It also held sway in certain niches such as the military (demi-brigade) and fashion (demi-cap; demi-lustre; demi-worsted) and coach-building (demi-limousine).  Of late, it has absorbed the sense of “virtual” as well as “lesser” and is quirky too: A demigod, while certainly not quite the real thing can be applied with either negative or positive connotations.

1969 Ford Torino Talladega.

Although modest by comparison with Chrysler’s radial Daytona and Superbird, Ford’s aerodynamic enhancements to the Torino proved surprisingly effective.  Actually, so good was the Talladega that when the sleek-looking replacement was released, the racers found it was slower and kept their Talladegas in service as long as they were eligible.  Ford had produced enough of their Fairlane-based Torino Talladegas to run them on the NASCAR circuits but needed to sell five-hundred cars with their new BOSS 429 V8 engine to reach the homologation threshold.

A helpfully inserted quirk in the NASCAR rules allowed them to put the engine in the Mustang rather than the larger Torino which would actually be used for competition.  That was good because the BOSS 429 Mustang attracted great interest and Ford sold more than enough to comply, something few were confident of doing with the Torino.  Additionally, and again helpfully, any doubts about the eligibility of the new engine had been resolved when NASCAR nudged the displacement limit by a couple of cubes.  The capacity limit of 428 cubic inches (7014 cm³) had been imposed in 1963 after Ford, caught cheating using a specialized aerodynamic part called a Starlift roof, sent one of the now-banned cars, fitted with a 483 cubic inch (7.9 litre) engine, to the Bonneville salt flats and set a number of international speed records.  NASCAR was watching what had started out as a "stock car" racing series in which essentially amateur teams could on a good day compete with the professionals, turn into a place where to be competitive, what was required was a big-budget operation, supported by the factories making available exotic and expensive components which had no purpose except on a race track.  Knowing where that 483 would be heading, NASCAR cracked down.  There would be plenty of other squabbles about engines during the 1960s but by the time the BOSS 429 came along, all was forgiven, NASCAR raising the limit to  430 cubic inches (7046 cm³).

1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429.

That was also bad because the Boss 429 was a big lump designed to fit in the wide-bodied intermediates and such was the task to shoehorn it into the narrower Mustang that the job had to be out-sourced to a specialist contractor because inserting the labour-intensive programme into the highly-structured Ford production-lines would have been too disruptive.  Thus, cars were delivered to the contractor which also received the 429 engines in crates.  Destined originally to be fitted with the physically smaller 428 SCJ engines, it was no small task to make the 429 fit, the shock towers being moved outwards along with the upper and lower control arms and stiffer springs were fitted and, surprisingly, it actually worked out quite well.  Although the bulky heads made the 429 a wide piece of machinery, they were made of aluminum and the total package was barely heavier than the all-iron 428 and some even included a few magnesium components which were lighter still.  The changes made had the effect of moving the front wheels further apart and increasing their negative camber and this gave the Boss 429 the best handling and road manners of any big-block Mustang although, it was still a front-heavy thing and clumsy to drive at low speed.  Re-locating the battery to the boot helped weight-distribution a little but none of the changes were ever going to make it behave like a Lotus Elan.

1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429.

However, one implication of things being such a tight fit was that there wasn’t the space to fit a free-flowing exhaust system so in the Mustang it was never possible for the engine to breathe as deeply as it did in the big NASCAR stockers and knowing this, Ford made no attempt to configure the it for maximum output, the carburetor smaller than those used on the Boss 302 and Boss 351.  Nor were the internal components assembled in a specification consistently intended to maximize performance, some built (supposedly in error) with a valve train which limited engine speed and the project anyway was a homologation exercise designed to sell the requisite number of parts required to qualify them for competition although, despite the low production spread over only two years, there were three distinct variations.  The first few hundred (S-code) units used heavy connecting rods secured with ½ inch (13 mm) bolts whereas the rest of the 1969 run and most built in 1970 (T-code) were fitted with lighter pieces and ⅜ (9 mm) bolts and initially, the early T-code engines carried over the hydraulic lifters from the S-code but production soon switched to a solid lifters with a somewhat more lumpy camshaft, the magnesium valve covers at the same time replaced with units cast in aluminum.  Finally there was an edition (A-code) which appeared in the last few of those built in 1970 and it varied from the T-series specification only in in some changes to the plumbing associated with what was still a quite rudimentary anti-pollution system.  Whatever its variations, a Boss 429 Mustang was what it was.

The shotgun ports.

It was also what it was not.  Expectations were high and, on paper, not unreasonable because the notion of putting a genuine seven litre racing engine in something as (relatively) small as the Mustang did hint at something special but, with the strangled engine, although quick, it wasn’t a cataclysm on wheels and the opposition was quicker still.  One of the issues was the fundamental design of those exotic heads.  Nick-named shotgun because the intake and exhaust ports reminded many of the double-barrels of a 12-gauge (although each was large enough almost to swallow a tennis ball), they worked admirably in the Talladegas at high-speed where they were matched with a big carburetor and free-flowing exhaust system.  On the street however, the big shotgun ports rarely saw sustained high-speed running and their sheer size meant the fuel at low speed didn’t achieve the flow-rate necessary for the low-end response needed on the street or strip.

1969 Boss 429 on stand with open exhaust headers.

Prior to release there was talk of quarter-mile runs somewhere in the twelve second range but in reality, no stock Boss 429 ever went quicker than low fourteens, enough to put it in the upper echelon of the muscle car era but there were those who expected more.  More did come, as initially disillusioned engine builders began to understand what it responded to, it became for decades one of the dominant forces in drag-racing, the shotgun ports meaning it took to forced aspiration like few engines, twin-turbocharged Boss engines able to generate thousands of horsepower.

1970 Ford Mustang Boss 429.

So it was quite a legacy and the surviving Mustangs now sell for as much as US$250,000.  Although Ford was compelled to build only 500, 857-odd were sold in 1969 and 499 in 1970 so it’s a bit of an oddity, quite a rarity yet almost mass-produced compared with some of the limited production machines of the muscle car era and such is the allure that there are companies now producing reproductions of the famous heads, modified slightly to fit regular production blocks.  It’s never been known how much money Ford lost on each Mustang it sold but, fitted with the famous Holley Dominator 1150 CFM carburetor and open exhaust headers suited to an engine happiest running at full throttle, the BOSS 429 did its job on the circuits and the company seemed happy with the investment although its life as a flag-bearer would be short, motorsport soon to be neglected as a changing world and a onrush of legislation demanding compliance needing the resources the circuits soaked up.

The semi-hemi combustion chamber.

As well as being nick-named the shotgun, it was also called the semi-hemi.  The BOSS 429’s combustion chambers weren’t actually hemispherical but they tended towards the shape (and the ones used in the race cars sometimes were).  Although Ford apparently would have preferred to have them known as a "blue crescent", it didn't catch on and, there being no obvious word in use to describe what they looked like, they came to be known as semi-hemi.  Musicologists had already gone one better than Ford.  Noting that English had contrived to borrow three words from Antiquity in order to have three prefixes meaning “half”, they invented hemidemisemiquaver to describe a sixty-fourth of a note (ie a half of a half of a half of an eighth note), a coining from that year of semi-revolutions: 1848.

Fuselage

Fuselage pronounced fyoo-suh-lahzh, fyoo-suh-lij, fyoo-zuh-lahzh or fyoo-suh-lahzh)

(1) In aeronautical design, the complete central structure of an airplane, to which are attached the wings (or rotors), tail and other stabilizing fins or surfaces (engines sometimes also directly attached or enclosed).  It is inside the fuselage where the crew, passengers, cargo and most internals systems are located.

(2) In design, a style which borrows from or alludes to the elements used in aircraft fuselages.

(3) By extension, the main body of an aerospace vehicle

1909 (In English): From the French fuselage, the construct being fusel(é) (spindle-shaped), from fuseler (to shape like a spindle), from the Old French fus or fuseau (spindle), from the Latin fusus (spindle) + -age.  The French suffix -age was from the Middle & Old French -age, from the Latin -āticum, (greatly) extended from words like rivage and voyage.  It was used usually to form nouns with the sense of (1) "action or result of Xing" or (more rarely), "action related to X" or (2) "state of being (a or an) X".  A less common use was the formation of collective nouns.  Historically, there were many applications (family relationships, locations et al) but use has long tended to be restricted to the sense of "action of Xing".  Many older terms now have little to no connection with their most common modern uses, something particularly notable of those descended from actual Latin words (fromage, voyage et al).  In English, the suffix -age was from the Middle English -age, from the Old French -age, from the Latin -āticum.  Cognates include the French -age, the Italian -aggio, the Portuguese -agem, the Spanish -aje & Romanian -aj.  It was used to form nouns (1) with the sense of collection or appurtenance, (2) indicating a process, action, or a result, (3) of a state or relationship, (4) indicating a place, (5) indicating a charge, toll, or fee, (6) indicating a rate & (7) of a unit of measure.  Fuselage is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is fuselages.

Many languages also borrowed fuselage but there were sometimes variations in spelling including in Catalan (fuselatge), Portuguese (fuselagem), Spanish (fuselaje), Russian (fjuzeljáž (фюзеля́ж)), Kazakh (füzeläj (фюзеляж)) and Ukrainian (fjuzeljáž (фюзеля́ж)).  It’s not clear when “fuselage” was first used in English, the earliest known reference dating from 1909 but it’s not improbable the word had earlier been in oral use.  The alternative was presumably “hull” (the body or frame of shop, boat or other such vessel).  Hull was from the Middle English hul, hulle & holle (seed covering, hull of a ship), from the Old English hulu (seed covering), from the Proto-Germanic hul- (and related to the Dutch hul (hood) and the German Hülle & Hülse (cover, veil)), and may have been from either the primitive Indo-European forms ḱel- (to cover, hide) or kal- (hard).  Hull came into wide use in aircraft design when “flying boats” were developed.

Flying boats: Short S.25 Sunderland (1938-1946) (left) and Dornier Do X (1929-1932) (right). 

Most aeroplanes have fuselages; flying boats have hulls, a tribute to the nautical part of their hybrid origin.  Commercially, flying boats were widely used during the inter-war years because of their range and, needing only a suitable body of water (sea, lake, river), their ability to operate in regions without suitable aerodromes.  A vital military machine during World War II (1939-1945), the advances in aircraft design during that conflict, coupled with the proliferation of airstrip construction able to be re-purposed for civil use doomed them for all but some specialist uses.  Quickly they almost vanished from European and (most) North American skies and waterways, enduring in the Far East only until infrastructure there too was improved.

The fuselage can be optional: Dunne D.5 (1908) (left), Northrop YB-49 prototype (1947) (centre) and Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit (1989) (right).

In the early days of aviation, before even an airplane had flown the English Channel, designers had been intrigued when their slide-rule calculations suggested the optimal shape of a flying machine was a "flying wing" with no conventional fuselage and certainly no tail-plane apparatus.  Tests of scale models in primitive wind tunnels proved the math was substantially correct and proof of concept tests using an unpowered glider proved inconclusive, it being clear only a powered flight would demonstrate if such a design could achieve stable flight.  When tested, the designer admitted an early, under-powered, version was "more a hopper than a flyer" but when fitted with more powerful engines, the "flying wings" proved remarkably stable.  However, more conventional designs proved more suitable for military use and that, increasingly was where the source of funding was to be found.  Despite that, the idea continued to fascinate designers and a flying wing was one of the extraordinary range of experimental aircraft under development in Nazi Germany during World War II, most of which never made any contribution to the Luftwaffe's war effort.  In the US, Northrop built both propeller and jet-powered prototypes in the 1940s and after early difficulties, a stable platform emerged although, like most designs, it both offered advantages and imposed restrictions but the whole project was cancelled; ever since some have argued this was due to political influence while others claim the flaws in the concept were so fundamental they couldn't be fixed.  The Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit (in service with the US Air Force (USAF) until at least 2034) is a modified version of a flying wing in that its really a variation of a delta with an integrated fuselage.

Ascending the stairs: Lindsay Lohan entering a fuselage, Mykonos, Greece, August 2016.

In the early days of aviation during the twentieth century’s first decade, French engineers and inventors were the most innovative on the planet and this is reflected in the world-wide adoption of many French terms for some of the bits and pieces which continue to be used.  English, rarely inclined to create a new word if there was a manageable one in some other language which could be absorbed (“borrowed” still the term etymologists, strangely perhaps, prefer) and the French words which formed the basis of the early lexicon of aviation are a particular example of technological determinism in language.  Other orthodox terms in aviation include:

Aileron: A hinged flight-control surface usually attached to the trailing edge of each wing and used to change the roll (ie cause fuselage to begin rotation).  Although the word “flaps” is commonly used of ailerons, the flaps are usually positioned closer to the fuselage and are used to increase or reduce lift & drag.  The flap-like devices mounted on the trailing edges of the vertical stabilizers (somewhere in the tail-section) are properly called “elevators”.  Aileron was a diminutive of aile (wing) and before powered flight (flying machines) had been used in ornithology to refer to the extremities of a bird's wings used to control their flight.  There is an entry in a French-English dictionary dating from 1877 (with the lead meaning: “small wing”) and in the context of the language of aviation, the earliest known use in entry in French technical literature is from 1908.

Empennage: The tail assembly of an aircraft, including the horizontal and vertical stabilizers, elevators, and rudder. Empennage was from the French empenner (to feather an arrow).

Chassis: This was the original term used in English to describe the framework of an aircraft but soon was replaced by "frame, structure etc"), presumably because of the association with the heavy steel constructions used in cars and trucks, things far removed from the lightweight designs needed in the air.  Chassis was from the French chassis (frame, supporting structure), from châsse (reliquary; coffin), from the Latin capsa (case).

Concours d'Elegance: Not strictly an aviation term and most associated with affairs like those in Pebble Beach where rows of vintage Bentleys, Ferraris and such (the latter always in a much better state of finish than when they left the factory) are judged for their closeness to perfection.  Although not strictly a term from aviation, there are such events for old aircraft.  Concours d'Elegance was from the French concours d'élégance (competition of elegance).

Pilot: Pilot was from the Middle French pilot & pillot, from the Italian pilota & piloto, (pedotta, pedot & pedotto the older forms), the pil- element probably influenced by pileggiare (to sail, navigate), ultimately from the unattested Byzantine Greek *πηδώτης (pēdṓtēs) (helmsman), from the Ancient Greek πηδόν (pēdón) (blade of an oar, oar) (the the Ancient and Modern Greek πηδάλιον (pēdálion) (rudder).  Familiar from nautical use, pilot was a straight borrowing for the person fulfilling the same function in the air.  The construct of pilotage was pilot + -age.

Canard: A type of aircraft configuration where the tail-plane is ahead of the main lifting surfaces.  In aviation, a canard is either (1) a type of aircraft in which the primary horizontal control and stabilization surfaces are in front of the main wing or (2) a horizontal control and stabilization surface located in front of the main wing of an aircraft (a fore-plane).  In just about any form of engineering involving movement and fluid dynamics (air, plasma, water etc), a canard is a small, wing-like structure used usually as a stabilizing device.  Canard was from the French canard (duck, hoax) and in English as “a canard”, is still used in that sense to mean “a false or misleading report or story, especially if deliberately so”.

The Fuselage Chryslers, 1968-1973

1969 Imperial LeBaron, four-door hardtop.

The “fuselage” Chryslers were released late in 1968 for the 1969 model year and, as a class, remain the largest regular production cars ever made by the US industry.  In the catalogue between 1968-1973, by the end of their run the Imperial was built on a 127 inch (3226 mm) wheelbase, was 235 ½ (5981 mm) inches in length and almost 80 (2022 mm) inches in width.  Big cars from Detroit were not uncommon in the 1960s (Buick in 1959 even naming their top-of-the-range model the Electra 225, a tribute to its 225 inch (5715 mm) length) but even by those standards the fuselage cars not only were vast but the bulbous shape (source of the “fuselage” tag) made them appear more excessive still; it wasn’t only for the big Chryslers the derisive “land yacht” was coined but the line exemplified the idea.  In fairness, the trend generally was “longer, heavier & fatter”, even once compact (by US standards) and agile machines like Ford’s Mustang and Thunderbird bloating with each update although the manufacturers were aware there was considerable public demand for something smaller and by the late 1960s, those in the pipelines were well-advanced.  However, demand for the full-sized cars remained strong and Chrysler decided their lines should be more full-sized than ever, thus the fuselage design.  There was at the time a bit of an aeronautical influence about and that was nothing new, jet aircraft and space rockets during the previous two decades having contributed many of the motifs which appeared on US cars.  During the development cycle for the fuselage cars, Chrysler were well-acquainted with the appearance of the Boeing 747, sketches circulating for some three years before its first public appearance in September 1968, coincidently just days after the Chrysler’s debuted.  In its appearance, the bulging 747 was the same sort of departure from the earlier, slender 707 as the 1969 Chryslers were from their rectilinear predecessors.

1969 Chrysler 300 advertising.  In graphics & text, the "fuselage" motif was integral to the promotion; it was no mere nickname. 

In some ways the styling has aged surprisingly well because the basic lines are uncluttered and, particularly on the higher priced editions, there was some nice detailing but at the time, critics found the look peculiar and a deviance from the direction other manufacturers were travelling.  The sides were unusually deep and rounded (recalling, obviously, an airplane’s fuselage) with a beltline so high the glasshouse (the cabin area defined by the windows) was relatively shallow, something accentuated by the surrounding bulk.  The corporation’s full-sized platform (internally the “C-Body”), it was shared by the Plymouth, Dodge, Chrysler and Imperial lines, the latter a surprise to some because since 1955 when it had been established as a separate division, the Imperial had been built on a unique platform.  However, despite some encouraging results in the 1950s, Imperial never achieved the volume which would have justified another unique platform so the line was merged into mainstream development.

1969 Imperial LeBaron advertising.  The "messaging" in this advertisement remains obscure.

The debut season saw good sales for the fuselage cars (though still more than 10% down on the previous C-Body (1965-1968)) but demand dropped precipitously in the next three years although sales were in buoyant in 1973 when many manufacturers set records; it was the last good year for the “old” American economy and the swansong of the long post-war boom built on cheap, limitless energy and the uniquely advantageous position the country enjoyed after the war; something squandered by the mistakes of more than one administration.  It was certainly unfortunate timing for Chrysler that the first oil crisis should hit just weeks after they had replaced the fuselage cars with something mechanically similar but with clever styling tricks (even the engineers admitted it was “nips & tucks; smoke & mirrors”), something dimensionally similar appeared both smaller and more modern.  Underneath, as the fuselage line had been, was essentially a good product, Chrysler’s basic engineering always good and while the big machines would never behave like a Lotus Elan, on the road they were competent and in most aspects as good as or better than the competition.

The last of Harry S Truman's (1884–1972; US president 1945-1953) many cars was a 1972 Chrysler Newport, the entry-level model in Chrysler's Fuselage range (some Plymouth & Dodge models were cheaper still).  Purchased some six months before his death, the licence plate (5745) was a special request, a reference to 7 May, 1945 (VE Day (Victory in Europe).  Truman was in office on that day and the plate has since permanently been retired.

The first oil shock hit demand for the 1974 cars and the timing was bad for all points in the production and distribution chain.  Noting the favourable reviews, dealers had ordered large stocks to meet the expected demand but the Arab Oil Embargo meant sales of big cars collapsed and the Chryslers, with V8 engines between 318-440 cubic inches (5.2-7.2 litres) were as thirsty as any of their ilk and supplies of cars expected to be sold in days languished on dealer’s lots for months.  In response, Chrysler shut down two manufacturing plants while trying to increase production or imports of small, fuel-efficient vehicles.  Sales of the big cars in 1974 were barely half those of the previous year and the breakdown of those was a harbinger for the whole industry, the numbers disproportionately slanted towards the higher-priced lines, the entry-level models attracting interest mostly from fleet operators and law enforcement.  The days of the low-cost big sedans which appealed to those like Harry Truman who liked the virtues without the ostentation, were over.

1978 Chrysler New Yorker advertising.  Still obviously bulky, the 1974-1978 re-style toned down the fuselage look although the interiors in tufted leather or velor became increasingly baroque.  Publications like Road & Track (R&T) where the writers disapproved of anything so big (they thought everyone should drive a Lancia) sneered at the extravagant fit-out, dismissing it as "gingerbread" but it was a luxurious and isolating environment.  There were still many who liked that sort of thing, none of whom maintained subscriptions to R&T.

So the writing was on the wall and even by 1977 when the oil crisis faded from memory and it seemed buyers were ready again to buy big, Chrysler was left with its now 1974 range while press and public fawned over General Motors’ (GM) newly slimmed-down, taut looking, full-size cars, the style and dimensions of which were so obviously the future.  Tellingly, while radically reduced in weight and external measurements, on the inside, they were in most places as capacious as both their predecessors and the now antique Chryslers which were still just an update of the 1969 fuselage range.  With the coming of 1976, the corporation had accepted the inevitable and axed the Imperial brand, Chrysler's top-of-the-range New Yorker tarted-up with left-over Imperial trim to become the new flagship.  The end was close and in 1978 it came, that the last year of the big Chryslers released with such high expectations a decade before and when the line was retired, it took with it the once popular four-door hardtop body-style, other manufacturers having already retired their models.  Shockingly inefficient though they are, the few surviving land yachts have a small but devoted following who appreciate what remains a unique driving experience (one as enjoyable as a passenger) and it's unlikely anything like them will ever be built again.