Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Engagement. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Engagement. Sort by date Show all posts

Tuesday, November 30, 2021

Engagement

Engagement (pronounced en-geyj-muhnt)

(1) The act of engaging or the state of being engaged.

(2) A mutual pledge of marriage, betrothal.

(3) An appointment or arrangement.

(4) A pledge, obligation, agreement or other condition that binds.

(5) Employment, or a period or post of employment, especially in the performing arts.

(6) An encounter, conflict, or battle.

(7) In mechanics, the act or state of interlocking.

(8) In contract law, a promise (archaic).

(9) In economics (usually plural), financial obligations (archaic).

(10) In obstetrics, the entrance of the foetal head or presenting part into the upper opening of the maternal pelvis.

1615: The construct was engage + ment.  Engagier was Middle English from the Old French engagier (under pledge), through Frankish from Proto-Germanic wadiare (pledge).  Word widely spread in European languages; the Frankish anwadjōn (to pledge), from Proto-Germanic wadjōną (to pledge, secure), wadją (pledge, guarantee).  Cognate with Old English anwedd (pledge, security), Old English weddian (to engage, covenant, undertake), German wetten (to bet, wager) and the Icelandic veðja (to wager).  Engage illustrates the general, common evolution of Germanic to French (eg Guillaume from Wilhelm).  The meaning "attract the attention of" is from 1640s; that of "employ" is from 1640s, derived from "binding as by a pledge."  Specific sense of "promise to marry" is variously cited as dating from between 1610 and 1742 and the military meaning emerged in 1664.  Related forms are the nouns non-engagement and re-engagement, now almost always hyphenated.

A long tradition

The western concept of engagement is derived from the Jewish law (Torah), codified in the last Talmudic tractate of the Nashim (Women) order in which the marriage process is defined in two parts, the erusin (or kiddushin), a betrothal ceremony of sanctification and the nissu'in (or chupah), the formal act of marriage.  This is wholly analogous with the modern tradition of (1) the engagement which reflects a change of relationship between the couple and (2) the marriage which changes their legal status under either, or both, state and church law.  In antiquity, both Hellenic Greece and Rome borrowed and adapted the Hebrew practice with little change.

In the West, canon lawyers proved more exacting, secular lawyers more avaricious and engagements assumed an increasingly contractual form.  While either party could break a betrothal, it was once possible for the spurned partner to sue the other for breach of promise, which, in some jurisdictions, was called heart-balm.  In Australia, these actions were rendered obsolete when attorney-general Lionel Murphy’s Family Law Act (1975) replaced the old Matrimonial Causes Act, a matter of some regret to bishops, Liberal Party lawyers and other moralists.  Also affected were publications like Melbourne’s now sadly defunct Truth which, in its divorce reports, published not only salacious details of infidelity but also the photographs produced as evidence, shots taken typically through the windows of St Kilda hotel rooms.

In Australia, in the narrow technical sense, engagements are compulsory in that one month must elapse between the submission of the Notice of Intended Marriage form and the marriage proper although a prescribed authority may approve a shorter notice time in some limited circumstances (such as when former Governor-General Sir John Kerr (1914-1991) wished rapidly to marry his second wife Anne (aka Nancy (née Taggart, previously Robson)).  Engagements in Australia thus, generally, have a statutory minimum duration of one month.  There’s no maximum, but there’s no record of one matching the longest known engagement, a sixty-seven year arrangement between a Mexican couple; there may have been commitment issues.

On Sunday 28 November 2021, Lindsay Lohan announced her engagement to her boyfriend of two years, Bader Shammas, a Dubai-based fund manager employed by Credit Suisse.  The announcement was made in the twenty-first century way: Instagram.

Friday, October 28, 2022

Ultracrepidarian

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

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

1819: An English adaptation of the historic words sūtor, ne ultra crepidam, uttered by the Greek artist Apelles and reported by the Pliny the Elder.  Translating literally as “let the shoemaker venture no further” and sometimes cited as ne supra crepidam sūtor judicare, the translation is something like “a cobbler should stick to shoes”.  From the Latin, ultra is beyond, sūtor is cobbler and crepidam is accusative singular of crepida (from the Ancient Greek κρηπίς (krēpís)) and means sandal or sole of a shoe.

Ultracrepidarianism describes the tendency among some to offer opinions and advice on matters beyond their competence.  The word entered English in 1819 when used by English literary critic and self-described “good hater”, William Hazlitt (1778–1830), in an open letter to William Gifford (1756–1826), editor of the Quarterly Review, a letter described by one critic as “one of the finest works of invective in the language” although another suggested it was "one of his more moderate castigations" a hint that though now neglected, for students of especially waspish invective, he can be entertaining.  The odd quote from him would certainly lend a varnish of erudition to trolling. 

Ultracrepidarian comes from a classical allusion, Pliny the Elder (circa 24-79) recording the habit of the famous Greek painter Apelles (a fourth century BC contemporary of Alexander the Great (Alexander III of Macedon, 356-323 BC), to display his work in public view, then conceal himself close by to listen to the comments of those passing.  One day, a cobbler paused and picked fault with Apelles’ rendering of shoes and the artist immediately took his brushes and pallet and touched-up the errant sandal’s straps.  Encouraged, the amateur critic then let his eye wander above the ankle and suggested how the leg might be improved but this Apelles rejected, telling him to speak only of shoes and otherwise maintain a deferential silence.  Pliny hinted the artist's words of dismissal may not have been polite.

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

Jackson Pollock (1912-1956): Blue Poles

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

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

Blue Poles emerged during Pollock’s "drip period" (1947-1950), a method which involved techniques such throwing paint at a canvas placed on the floor.  The art industry liked these (often preferring the more evocative term "action painting") and they remain his most popular works, although at this point, he abandoned the dripping and moved to his “black porings phase” a darker, simpler style which didn’t attract the same commercial interest.  He later returned to more colorful ways but his madness and alcoholism worsened.  Pollock (1912-1956) died in a drink-driving accident.

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

Although the general public remained uninterested or sceptical, there were critics, always drawn to a “troubled genius”, who praised Pollock’s work and the industry approves of any artist who (1) had the decency to die young and (2) produced stuff which can sell for millions.  New York art historian and curator Helen A Harrison (now director of the Pollock-Krasner House and Study Centre) is an admirer, noting the “pioneering drip technique…” which “…introduced the notion of action painting", where the canvas became the space with which the artist actively would engage”.  As a thumbnail sketch she offered:

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

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

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

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

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

There have been famous responses to that but Ms Harrison's was practical, offering people the opportunity to try.  To the view that “…people thought it was arbitrary, that anyone can fling paint around”, Ms Harrison conceded it was true anybody could “fling paint around” but that was her point, anybody could, but having flung, they wouldn’t “…necessarily come up with anything.”  In 2010, she released The Jackson Pollock Box, a kit which, in addition to an introductory text, included paint brushes, drip bottles and canvases so people could do their own flinging and compare the result against a Pollock.  After that, they may agree with collector Peggy Guggenheim (1898-1979) that Pollock was “...the greatest painter since Picasso” or remain unrepentant ultracrepidarians.

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

Three photographs by Cecil Beaton (1904-1980), shot for a three-page feature in Vogue (March 1951) titled American Fashion: The New Soft Look which juxtaposed Pollock’s paintings hung in New York’s Betty Parsons Gallery with the season’s haute couture by Irene and Henri Bendel.  Beaton choose the combinations of fashion and painting and probably pairing Lavender Mist (1950, left) with a short black ball gown of silk paper taffeta with large pink bow at one shoulder and an asymmetrical hooped skirt by Bendel best illustrates the value of his trained eye.

Critics and social commentators have always liked these three pages, relishing the opportunity to comment on the interplay of so many of the clashing forces of modernity: the avant-garde and fashion, production and consumption, abstraction and representation, painting and photography, autonomy and decoration, masculinity and femininity, art and commerce.  Historians of art note it too because it was the abstract expressionism of the 1940s which was both uniquely an American movement and the one which in the post-war years saw the New York supplant Paris as the centre of Western art.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Indefatigable

Indefatigable (pronounced in-di-fat-i-guh-buhl)

Incapable of being tired out; not yielding to fatigue; untiring.

1580-1590: From the French indefatigable derived from the Latin indēfatīgābilis (untiring; that which cannot be wearied). Construct was in (not) + defatigare (to tire out) from de (utterly, down, away) + fatigare (to weary).  A dictionary of 1656 has an entry for defatigable which does seem to have been used in the seventeenth century before going extinct; a revival in 1948 was a jocular back-formation from indefatigable and one which never caught on.  Related forms are indefatigability & indefatigableness (nouns) and indefatigably (adverb).

HMS Indefatigable was a Royal Navy battlecruiser launched in 1909 and sunk while part of Vice-Admiral Sir David Beatty's battlecruiser fleet in the 1916 Battle of Jutland.

Battlecruisers were essentially battleships with less armor, therefore gaining speed at the cost of greater vulnerability.  The theory was they would have the firepower to out-gun all but the battleships and those they could out-run with their greater speed.  The concept seemed sound and in December 1914, at the Battle of the Falkland Islands, two Royal Navy battlecruisers vindicated the theory when they chased and destroyed the German East Asia Squadron. 

However, in 1916, the performance of the battlecruisers in the Jutland engagement forced the Admiralty to re-consider.  Jutland was the closest thing to the great battle of the fleets which had been anticipated for decades but proved anti-climatic, both sides ultimately choosing to avoid the decisive encounter which offered the chance of victory or defeat.  What it did prove was that the naval theorists had been right; the battlecruiser could not fight the battleship and if their paths threatened to cross, the less-armored vessel should retreat and rely on greater speed to make good her escape.  There were technical deficiencies in the British ships, without which perhaps three of their battlecruisers wouldn’t have been lost, but what happened at Jutland made it clear to the admirals that uneven contests between the big capital ships were to be avoided.

For naval architects, warship design was a three-way tussle between speed, firepower and armor; to add to one was to detract from at least one of the others.  That was difficult enough when constrained only by physics and economics but after the First World War, international agreements limited the maximum tonnage of the big ships so the choice became either to compromise the design or cheat.  Some countries did the former, some the latter but all seemed to agree the battlecruiser was extinct and indeed, after Jutland, no battlecruiser was laid down for over sixty years.  The pocket-battleships of the 1930s, although similar, were a different breed.

It was thus a surprise when the Soviet navy announced the commissioning of five Kirov class battlecruisers, four of which were built, launched during the 1980s and 1990s.  Although the official Russian designation of the ship-type is heavy nuclear-powered guided missile cruiser (тяжёлый атомный ракетный крейсер), but admiralties in the West, still nostalgic about the big ships, choose to revive the old name "battlecruisers".

Before the fall: Soviet nuclear-battlecruiser Kirov at anchor, with a Soviet Krivak I-class guided-missile frigate in the background, December, 1989.  Later re-named the Admiral Ushakov, she and the Admiral Lazarev (ex-Frunze) are now in the throes of being scrapped.

They’re the largest conventional warships launched since World War II; only aircraft carriers and amphibious assault ships have been of greater displacement.  Expensive to operate, only the Pyotr Velikiy (ex-Yuriy Andropov) remains in operational service and according to recent NATO bulletins has been at see as part of a fleet exercise as recently as mid-2021.  Although the Admiral Nakhimov (ex-Kalinin) is currently undergoing a refit and is now scheduled to re-enter service in 2023, the re-commissioning date has shifted many times and NATO sources remain sceptical she will ever return to the active list.

Monday, August 7, 2023

Squint

Squint (pronounced skwint)

(1) To look with the eyes partly closed; partially to close the eyelids.

(2) In ophthalmology, to be afflicted strabismus (a condition of the eye consisting in non-coincidence of the optic axes); to be cross-eyed.

(3) To look or glance obliquely or sidewise; to look askance.

(4) To make or have an indirect reference to or bearing on; tend or incline toward (usually followed by toward, at etc).

(5) To be not quite straight, off-centred; to deviate from a true line; to run obliquely; askew, not level (as an intransitive verb in Scots English).

(6) In radio transmission, the angle by which the transmission-signal is offset from the normal of a phased array antenna.

(7) To cause to squint; cause to look obliquely.

(8) An act or instance of squinting.

(9) In informal use, a quick glance.

(10) An indirect reference; an inclination or tendency, especially an oblique or perverse one.

(11) In church architecture, a narrow oblique opening in a wall or pillar of a church to permit a view of the main altar from a side aisle or transept (also known as a hagioscope).

1350-1400: A variant of the earlier Middle English asquint, it was used first as an adverb in the sense of “with a squint; askant, the adjectival sense emerging in the 1570s and applied to the eyes, meaning “looking different ways; looking obliquely”.  The familiar modern meaning “looking indirectly, looking askance” dates from the 1610s.  The noun use (non-coincidence of the optic axes, permanent tendency to look obliquely) was a development from the adjective and came into use in the 1650s while the idea of a “sidelong glance” appeared a decade later.  Squint is a noun & verb, squinter & squintingness are nouns, squinty & squintless are adjectives, squinting is a noun & verb, squinted & squintest are verbs and squintingly is an adverb; the noun plural is squints.

Squint was not found in Middle English and the Middle English asquint has been traced to the early thirteenth century where it was used to mean “obliquely, with a sidelong glance” and is of uncertain origin although etymologists seem certain it was derived from some word related to or meaning “slope, slant, acute angle” although there are no surviving texts in which instances of use have survived.  This was also the French équinter (cut to a point) and the French dialectal esquintar & squintar (cast a glance, look furtively) and there may be a relationship but again, no documents exist to establish a link.  The Australian slang verb squiz was in use by at least 1916 (apparently with a civilian rather than military origin) and meant “to look at” (without any suggestion of it being “a quick look” and it may have been a portmanteau word, a blend of squi(nt) and (qui)z although the “quiz” part has never been explained and it may have the “z” was used just for the attractiveness of the sound.

Joe Biden with Ray-Ban Aviators (left) and without, squinting.

Joe Biden (b 1942; US president since 2021) is often photographed wearing a pair of Ray-Ban, gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses and they’ve become one of his signature accessories.  In less unhappy times he presented a custom pair of aviators to Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin (b 1952; president or prime minister of Russia since 1999) along with a crystal sculpture of an American bison, the US national mammal.  Gift giving between heads of governments is a centuries-old tradition and it’s not known what the US gave Imran Khan (b 1952; prime minister of Pakistan 2018-2022); those interested should probably check eBay.  When Mr Biden isn’t wearing his Ray-Bans, he’s often pictured squinting and there has been speculation about the reason for this: (1) his eyes could be highly sensitive to light, (2) he may suffer from a mild case of strabismus (an imbalance in the muscles controlling eye movement) or (3) he may have difficulty focusing on the teleprompter he needs to use because his cognitive decline has reached the point where he can no longer remember what he needs to say and he’s too old to learn how to sync his speech with the prompting his staff could provide through an earpiece.  His decline may accelerate and, if re-elected in 2024, he’ll be 86 when his term ends so there’s plenty of time for him to deteriorate to the point a clinician would pronounce senility.  Over the centuries, the world has had a few heads of state or government who variously have been (1) a bit vague, (2) senile or (3) barking mad but few of them have had their own nuclear arsenal.

Heads of state squinting: Kim Jong-un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK (North Korea) since 2011, left) & Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021, right).

A squint (the partial closing of the eyelids) differs from a stare which is fixedly to look at something or someone.  A less common use (probably obsolete except in literary or poetic use) was to vest something with being “very conspicuous on account of size, prominence, colour, or brilliancy; to stand out; to project; to bristle”.  One can squint while staring but stares can be anything from a squint to something wide-eyed.  Stare was from the From Middle English staren, from the Old English starian (to stare), from the Proto-West Germanic starēn, from the Proto-Germanic starjaną & starāną (to be fixed, be rigid), from the primitive Indo-European ster-.  It was cognate with the Dutch staren (to stare), the German starren (to stare) and the German starr (stiff).  The verb was from the Old English starian (to gaze steadily with the eyes wide open, look fixedly at, be wide-eyed (with madness, awe etc)”, from the Proto-Germanic staren (be rigid (the source also of the Old Norse stara, the Middle Low German & Middle Dutch staren, the Old High German staren  & starren (to stare at), the German starren (to stiffen) & starr (stiff), the Old Norse storr (proud), the Old High German storren (to stand out, project) and the Gothic and staurran (to be obstinate), from the primitive Indo-European root ster- (stiff).  In English, use of the word originally did not imply rudeness.  The phrase “to stare [someone] down dates from 1848 and the first known reference to a “staring contest” is from 1895.  In his memoir (Inside the Third Reich (1969), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) claimed that during a communal meal, he once won an informal “staring contest” with Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945), something which presumably be felt compelled to mention because so many of his contemporaries had in their memoirs and interviews commented on “Hitler’s hypnotic gaze”.

If looks could kill: Greta Thunberg (in pink) death-staring Donald Trump.

A frequently seen version of the stare is the so-called “death stare”, the idea being that one is looking at another with a hatred of such intensity it’s suspected one wishes them to die.  The idea of being able to “subject (someone) to the intimidating power of a stare" date from the 1670s and in popular culture, books have been written and films produced with a plotline involving someone able to doom another with nothing more than a stare.  Noted weather forecaster Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) famous death stare directed at Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) during the United Nations (UN) climate change summit, New York, September 2019.  Those needing an illustration for a school project about the use of the phrase “If looks could kill” need look no further.  In response, Mr Trump tweeted: “She seems like a very happy young girl looking forward to a bright and wonderful future. So nice to see!  Ms Thunberg trumped Trump’s mockery by adding to her X (the app formerly known as Twitter) profile: “A very happy young girl looking forward to a bright and wonderful future.”

Crooked Hillary Clinton had many reasons to stare at her husband and quite a few were caught on camera.  Analysts suggest that while it's hard to judge, her stares may at times have verged on being "death stares".

Stare is etymologically unrelated to stair (one of or a series of steps; a staircase) which was from the Middle English steire, staire, stayre, stayer, steir, steyre & steyer, from the Old English stǣġer (stair, staircase), from the Proto-Germanic staigriz (stairs, scaffolding), from the primitive Indo-European steyg- (to walk, proceed, march, climb”).  It was cognate with the Dutch steiger (a stair, step, wharf, pier, scaffolding), the Middle Low German steiger & steir (scaffolding) and the German Low German Steiger (a scaffold; trestle).  It was related to the Old English āstǣġan (to ascend, go up, embark), the Old English stīġan (to go, move, reach; ascend, mount, go up, spring up, rise; scale) and the German Stiege (a flight of stairs).  Stairs are used by the Spanish to illustrate the meaning of the word “enigma”: “A fellow who, were one to meet him of the stairs, one couldn’t be sure if he was coming up or going down”.

A sideways glance from Lindsay Lohan, opening night of Club Lohan, Athens, Greene, October 2016.

In the context of human vision, it means briefly to look at something or someone and it has additional senses including (1) To cause light to gleam or sparkle and (2) literally and figuratively to induce something to move obliquely, the idea picked up in cricket to describe the stroke in which the batsman hits the ball with the bat held at a slant (the classic version being the “leg glance”).  The figurative use can extend from the use of the eyes to communicate feelings to making an incidental or passing reflection, often unfavourably, on a topic.  The significance of a glance is its briefness.  The verb was from the Late Middle English glenchen (of a blow: to strike obliquely, glance; of a person: to turn quickly aside, dodge), from the Old French glacier, glachier & glaichier (to slide; to slip (from which Middle English also gained glacen (of a blow: to strike obliquely, glance; to glide)), from glace (frozen water, ice), from the Vulgar Latin glacia, from the Latin glaciēs (ice), from the primitive Indo-European gel- (to be cold; to freeze).  The noun was derived from the verb and emerged circa 1500, used initially in the sense of “a sudden movement producing a flash” and the familiar modern meaning “a brief or hurried look” dates from the 1580s and this was probably influenced by the Middle English glenten (look askance).  The sideways glance is one effected “from the corner of the eyes”.  For evolutionary reasons, we signal meaning with a variety of non-verbal clues (the so-called “body language”) and usually, when looking at someone, one turns one head in their direction and so one’s glance will be straight ahead.  If one wishing to convey one is especially interested, one turns one’s whole body to face them.  A sideways glance differs in that it’s an indirect mode of engagement, the most negative form of which is said to be “looking sideways” at someone but most sideways glances are more indicative of being merely uninterested.

Thursday, November 16, 2023

Hegemony

Hegemony (pronounced hi-jem-uh-nee or hej-uh-moh-nee)

(1) Leadership or predominant influence exercised by one nation over others, as in a confederation.

(2) Aggression or expansionism by large nations in an effort to achieve world domination (especially among smaller nations).

(3) As cultural hegemony, ascendancy or domination of one (class, ethnic, linguistic etc) group over others.

1560–1570: From the Ancient Greek γεμονία (hēgemonía) (leadership, authority, supremacy), the construct being γεμών (hēgemon-) (stem of hēgemn) (leader) + -ia (the suffix forming abstract nouns of feminine gender, from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin -ia and the Ancient Greek -ία (-ía) & -εια (-eia)); the rarer form was γέομαι (hēgeisthai) (to lead).  The root of hēgeisthai is unknown but a link has been suggested to "to track down," from the primitive Indo-European sag-eyo- from the root sag- (to seek out, track down, trace).  The forms antihegemonic & counterhegemonic were creations in political science to describe the tactics and strategies adopted to oppose a hegemon.  Hegemony, hegemon, hegemonization & hegemonist are nouns, hegemonized, hegemonizing & hegemonize are verbs, hegemonic is an adjective and hegemonically is an adverb; the noun plural is hegemonies.

The noun hegemonism dates from 1965 and refers to a policy of political domination, based to some extent on the model of imperialism.  The noun hegemonist was first used in 1898 in a discussion of the particular role of Prussia in the German (con)federation (the joke of the time being that while there were many states with an army, Prussia was an army with a state).  The noun hegemon had been used a year earlier, describing the unique position of Great Britain in the world as a maritime power with a far-flung world-wide empire, quite distinct historically from the models of the previous two millennia which had tended to be continental or at least contiguous.  The adjective hegemonic had emerged as early as the 1650s and was older still, noted in oral use in the 1610s.

Gramsci's legacy

Hegemons at lunch.

Mean Girls (2004) has been analysed as a series of case-studies deconstructing the ways an individual or group can asset a cultural hegemony but it's also been subject to the critique that as a piece of cinema, it's emblematic of the way the industry reinforces white supremacy and white privilege.  The original sense of hegemony, dating from the 1560s, was in reference to the predominance of one city state over another in Ancient Greece and was used also to mean the literal authority or sovereignty of one city-state over a number of others, as Athens in Attica or Thebes in Boeotia and generally to the Hellenic League (338 BC), a federation of Greek city–states created by Philip II of Macedon (382–336 BC; king (basileus) of Macedonia 359-336) to facilitate his access to and use of Greek armies against the Persian empire.  It was first used in a modern sense in geo-politics during the 1850s to describe the position of Prussia in relation to other German states and came to be applied, sometime misleadingly, to the European colonialism imposed upon the Americas, Africa, Asia, and Australasia.  In the twentieth century, political scientists (not only those from the left although the idea was most developed by neo-Marxists) extended the denotation of hegemony to include cultural imperialism, the domination, by a ruling class (or culture), in a socially stratified society.  The core of the theory was that by manipulating cultural values and mores, thereby constructing a dominant ideology, the ruling class intellectually can dominate the other classes by imposing a worldview (Weltanschauung) that, ideologically and structurally, justifies the social, political, and economic status quo to the point where it’s viewed as normal, inevitable and perpetual, with no possible alternative.

Antonio Gramsci

It was Italian politician and Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci’s (1891–1937) discussions in the 1920s of the nature of hegemony which provided the framework upon which others built their theories.  Gramsci was interested in the survival, indeed the flourishing of the capitalist state in the most advanced Western countries, despite the social and economic convulsions which earlier theorists had suggested should have threatened the system’s survival.  Gramsci understood the supremacy of a class and that the reproduction of its associated mode of production could be obtained by brute domination or coercion but his key observation was that in advanced capitalist societies, the perpetuation of class rule was achieved largely through consensual means.  A hegemonic class is thus one able to attain the consent of other social forces, and the retention of this consent is an ongoing project.  His work continues to underpin most critical analysis of apparently disparate systems such as The People’s Republic of China (PRC) and the US, systems in which tiny ruling classes (the Communist Party (CCP) in the former and the (somewhat misleadingly named) one percent in the latter), maintain and enhance a system entirely in their own interest with support from the masses ranging mostly from resigned acquiescence to actual enthusiasm.  In the CCP, this manifests as most of the population supporting the suppression of their political rights; in the US, they’re convinced to act against their own economic interests.  Under capitalism (ie the system used by both PRC and the US), Gramsci observed the relentless contribution of the institutions of civil society to the shaping of mass cognitions.

Gramsci wasn’t a theorist only of structures but was interested also in revolutionary strategy.  He noted the acquisition of consent prior to gaining power as an obvious implication but this he refined by offering a distinction a war of manoeuvre (the full frontal assault on the bourgeois state) and one of position (engagement with and subversion of the mechanisms of bourgeois ideological domination).  Others were taken with the concept, notably German-American political theorist Herbert Marcuse (1898–1979) of the Frankfurt School of critical theory and German Marxist sociologist Rudi Dutschke (1940–1979), best remembered for the idea, inspired by Gramsci, of a “long march through the institutions”.  The strategy was inspired, the tactics flawed.  The institutions through which the revolutionaries were allowed (some say encouraged) to march turned out to be art galleries, theatre trusts and other structures on the margins.  The institutions which controlled the economy and the security of the state remained under the control of the hegemon.

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Listicle

Listicle (pronounced lis-ti-kuhl)

A published article (print or on-line) which differs from a simple list in that the entries are augmented with some additional content (text, links or images).

2000–2005: A portmanteau word, a blend of list + (art)icle.  List (in this context) was from the Middle English lī̆st & lī̆ste (band, stripe; hem, selvage; border, edge, rim; list, specification; barriers enclosing area for jousting, etc), from the Old English līste (hem, edge, strip) or the Old French liste & listre (border; band; strip of paper; list) or the Medieval Latin lista, all from the Proto-West Germanic līstā, from the Proto-Germanic līstǭ (band, strip; hem, selvage; border, edge) which may have been from the primitive Indo-European leys- (to trace, track). It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Lieste (margin, strip, list), the Dutch lijst (picture frame, list), the German Low German Liest (edging, border), the German Leiste (strip, rail, ledge; (heraldry) bar), the Swedish lista (list), the Icelandic lista & listi (list), the Italian lista (list; strip), the Portuguese lista (list), the Spanish lista (list, roll; stripe), the Galician lista (band, strip; list) and the Finnish lista ((informal) list; batten).  Article was from the Middle English article, from the Old French article, from the Latin articulus (a joint, limb, member, part, division, the article in grammar, a point of time), from the Classical Latin artus, from the primitive Indo-European hértus (that which is fit together; juncture, ordering), from the root huer- (to join, fit (together)).  The adoption to describe “pieces of written text” was based on the “joining” function in grammar.  Listicle is a noun; the noun plural is listicles.

That a listicle can be all or substantially made up of text, links or images in any mix is a familiar concept but if the piece is either exclusively or substantially focused on charts (usually in the statistical rather than admiralty sense although an "informational graphic" counts as a “chart” for this purpose), then it can be referred to with the companion term "charticle" (plural charticles), another portmanteau word, a blend of chart + (art)icle.  Charticle is fun but seems an unnecessary word and a needless layer of differentiation; like many modern coinings, it ends up in lists (which can sometimes be listicles) of unusual or rare words with little evidence of actual use; were it not for the on-line world, charticle would likely have died a quick death.

Listicle is really less a description than a slur, an encapsulated critique of “pseudo-journalism”, the accusation being that the structure of a piece is provided by a “paint-by-numbers” approach and is fundamentally a PowerPoint slide (sometimes even the bullet points are included) with annotations (usually images or text) added as desired.  Sometimes, the criticism implies the whole thing is a “cut & paste” job.  It can be a valid objection if the format is inappropriate for the content but not every article needs to be anything like one of Susan Sontag’s (1933—2004) essays and a well-written listicle can present information in a concise and easily digestible format; indeed in many longer form pieces (including academic papers), summary-type appendices (abstracts or executive summaries) often are in the form of a listicle and thire brevity is much appreciated.

Illustrative examples of the three basic types include (1) Harper’s Bazaar's “Eleven of Lindsay Lohan’s Best Style Moments” (just a summary paragraph and captioned photographs), (2) People’s “Lindsay Lohan’s Most Iconic Early Looks” (a summary paragraph and annotated photographs) and (3) The Guardian’s “Ranking of US Presidents” (text only and a listicle disguised as an article, the content of which was so predictable it would have delighted their devoted readers).

So the form of the listicle can be useful.  The objection to them seems to focus on (1) the (allegedly increasingly accelerating) proliferation of the things, (2) that many are “fake journalism” in that they are merely a “padded list”, a PowerPoint slide disguised as prose and (3) many are little more than click-bait used but build the nominal engagement count and drive website traffic.  In some cases, the more strident criticism is of journalism which at first glance seems to be an “article” (in the accepted sense of the word) but if subject to structural analysis (a popular thing to do in media studies classes), it can be reduced to a listicle, even to the point of it being obvious where the bullet points should appear.  This is good sport as a form of attack on newspaper columnists who espouse the “wrong” politics but in cases where word limits are imposed, it’s likely the format is used for utilitarian reasons: it’s just an efficient way to order and impart information.

It’s no longer necessary to read Machiavelli’s (Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli, 1469–1527) Il Principe (The Prince; (1532)) because everything is now explained in in listicles.  There are free quotes.

The occasionally discussed matter of whether listicles are “real” journalism is something subjective and really depends on how one defines journalism (another significantly pointless exercise in this context, however vital it may be in a court of law).  The listicle is just another format and a well-written, information-dense listicle will contain journalistic elements, such as research and analysis and can be a more valuable thing than a piece, however conventional which is poorly-written, repetitive, or says very little.  All content should be judged on its merit rather than dismissed because of the form in which it's presented and it’s hard to escape the feeling they arouse such antagonism because they’re so often associated with entertainment and other parts of pop-culture.  There’s also the way listicles disproportionately populate the blogosphere and this one is probably as illustrative as any of the cynical way the format can be used for content creation.

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

Adamantine

Adamantine (pronounced ad-uh-man-teen, ad-uh-man-tin or ad-uh-man-tahyn)

(1) Made of adamant, or having the qualities of adamant; incapable of being broken, dissolved, or penetrated.

(2) Utterly unyielding or firm in attitude or opinion.

(3) In informal use, too hard to cut, break or pierce.

(4) Having the luster of a diamond.

1200-1250: From the Middle English adamantine (made of adamant; having the qualities of adamant (hard, unyielding, unbreakable, inflexible)), the vocative masculine singular of adamantinus, from the Ancient Greek adamántinos (hard as adamant), from δάμας (adamas), (genitive δάμαντος (adamantos)) (unbreakable, inflexible and literally “unconquerable, untameable”).  The modern English diamond is from adamas, via the Late Latin diamas and the Old French diamant.  The noun form was used to mean “the hardest material” (a synonym of adamantium).  The most obvious derivative in modern English is adamant.  In classical mythology, adamant was the word used to describe diamond and the meaning was aligned with “metal” to indicate the quality of extreme hardness and, over time, emerged the notion of adamant being used figuratively to allude to attitudes or opinions which were “hard”, the synonyms varying according whether the wish was to convey admiration or disapproval and they included: inflexible, intransigent, uncompromising, inexorable. unbending, firm, unyielding stubborn, obdurate.  Adamantine is a noun & adjective and adamantinely is an adverb; the noun plural is adamantines.

The cuts from the Cullinan Diamond: Cullinan 1 was the largest of the nine stones cut from the rough diamond.  The largest gem-quality rough diamond ever found, the Cullinan Diamond was found on 26 January 1905 in South Africa’s Cullinan mine.  The stone weighed 3,106.75 carats (21.91725 oz, 621.35 g).  The Cullinan was cut into nine smaller diamonds, the largest of which is named Cullinan I or Great Star of Africa which, at 530.4 carats (18.7 oz, 106.0 g) is the largest clear cut diamond in the world.

Lindsay Lohan’s engagement ring: The piece was described as a 6-carat cushion-cut diamond set on a classic diamond-accented platinum band.

Monday, September 18, 2023

Unrequited

Unrequited (pronounced uhn-ri-kwahy-tid)

(1) Of love, not returned or reciprocated.

(2) Not avenged or retaliated.

(3) Not repaid or satisfied.

1535–1545: The construct was un- + the past participle of requit (ie +-ed).  The un- prefix was from the Middle English un-, from the Old English un-, from the Proto-West Germanic un-, from the Proto-Germanic un-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥-.  It was cognate with the Scots un- & on-, the North Frisian ün-, the Saterland Frisian uun-, the West Frisian ûn- &  on-, the Dutch on-, the Low German un- & on-, the German un-, the Danish u-, the Swedish o-, the Norwegian u- and the Icelandic ó-.  It was (distantly) related to the Latin in- and the Ancient Greek - (a-), source of the English a-, the Modern Greek α- (a-) and the Sanskrit - (a-).  The verb requite dates from circa 1400 in the sense of "repay" (for good or ill), the construct being re- (back) + the Middle English quite (clear, pay up), an early variant of the verb quit preserved in this word.  The –ed suffix was from the Middle English –ede & -eden, from the Old English –ode & -odon (weak past ending), from the Proto-Germanic -ōd- & -ōdēdun.  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian -ede (-ed) (first person singular past indicative ending), the Swedish -ade (-ed) and the Icelandic -aði.  The suffix was used to form past tenses of (regular) verbs. In linguistics, it remains used for the base form of any past form.  Unrequited is an adjective.  In English, from the 1540s, the earliest reference of the Middle English requiten (to repay), from Old French requiter, is to love affairs.

Probably few were as suited to the calling of suffering as Sylvia Plath (1932-1963) so in taking Ted Hughes (1930–1998; Poet Laureate 1984-2008) as a husband, she made a good career move.

When you give someone your whole heart and he doesn't want it, you cannot take it back. It's gone forever.  Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (1963).

Path's only novel, The Bell Jar was first published in the UK under the pen-name "Victoria Lucas" and is usually described as "semi-autobiographical", names of people & places changed to protect the innocent and the guilty, a literary genre known as a Roman à clef (from the French and literally "novel with a key"), the notion of the "key" being that certain knowledge allows a reader to "unlock" the truth, a instance of "reading between the lines" and the technique has widely been used for reasons both personal and legal.  Within a month of publication, Plath would take her own life and it wasn't until 1967 The Bell Jar was re-released under her name.  Dr Heather Clark's (b 1974) recent biography of Plath (Red Comet (2021)) was outstanding.

Emily Brontë (1818–1848) receives insufficient credit for inventing the modern emo and there are more strands of her in them than there are of the brooding German romantics who tend to be more acknowledged.  Were they here today, Cathy and Heathcliff would be in their darkened bedrooms, on their phones, friending and un-friending each other.

You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right-answer me-for the poor fancy you felt for Linton?  Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.  Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (1847).

Her only novel, Wuthering Heights was first published under the ambiguous pen name "Ellis Bell", a hint at the attitudes of many in the literary establishment (and not a few publishers) towards women writers.  Tellingly, critics at the time were often not kind and while the power of the text was noted, for most it seems to have been too raw to be thought "respectable" fiction and it's latter day reputation as one of the classics of English literature evolved only in the twentieth century under the influence of modernist writing and proto-feminism.  Wuthering Heights is one of those books best read when young because if too long delayed, the historic moment may have passed.  That said, there have probably been some young ladies who read it while at their most impressionable and never quite recovered.

There are many portraits of William Shakespeare (1564–1616) but all are of at least dubious provenance and although there is a contemporary reference to a painting or drawing existing during his lifetime, it's thought all known images were probably created after his death.

If asked to distil from Shakespeare’s works the two most frequent themes, one might suggest "low skulduggery" and "unrequited love" though that’s something which might be said of many literary traditions.  In unrequited love Shakespeare saw comedic potential as well as tragedy because it’s as present in Much Ado About Nothing (1598) & All’s Well that Ends Well (1602) as it is in Romeo & Juliet (1594) where youthful agonies are laid bare.  Sometimes there’s overlap between the tragic and the comic: Malvolio’s desire for the affections Olivia in Twelfth Night (1602) are played for laughs although there’s something cruel about the way things end.  In Cymbeline (1609), it’s a tangle with a flavour of a modern TV talk show, Cloten besotted with Imogen, his mother’s husband’s daughter (ie his step-sister).  Queen Katharine (Catherine of Aragon) in Henry VIII (1613) was the first of the king’s many wives and was both abandoned and bewildered why her love was unrequited but Henry had his own agenda and was in some was perhaps closer to Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor (1597) where it’s really an unrequited lust.  Low skulduggery and unrequited love are both explored in Othello (1603), Roderigo’s longing for Desdemona rendering him vulnerable to manipulation by the evil Iago who harbours his own desires.  In Measure for Measure (1603) there’s a reward for Mariana enduring “five years” of unrequited love for “thou cruel Angelo” who cancelled their engagement because he dowery wasn’t enough: “Her promised proportions / Came short of composition”.  Angelo however is outwitted and Mariana gets her man.  In that case, for her at least, all was well that ends well.  So in Shakespeare there is plenty of unrequited love but he seems to have found the Norse and other Germanic myths emotionally over-wrought and was more pragmatic:

Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
William Shakespeare,
 Romeo and Juliet (1594)


The Roman Poet Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso; 43 BC–17 AD) in the 814 line Remedia Amoris ("Love's Remedy", circa 2 AD) offered a cure for pining youth suffering the pangs of unrequited love.  His solutions included travel, teetotalism, gardening and, without any apparent sense of irony, the avoidance of love poets.

Lindsay Lohan, Something That I Never Had from Speak (2004).

Do you see me?
Do you feel me like I feel you?
Call your number
I cannot get through
You don't hear me
And I don't understand
When I reach out
Well, I don't find your hand
 
Were they wasted words?
And did they mean a thing
And all that precious time
But I still feel so in-between
 
Someday, I just keep pretending
That you'll stay
Dreaming of a different ending
I wanna hold on
But it hurts so bad
And I can't keep something that I never had
 
Well, I keep tellin' myself
Things can turn around with time
And if I wait it out
You could always change your mind
Like a fairytale
Where it works out in the end
Can I close my eyes?
Have you lying here again

Lindsay Lohan's Something That I Never Had was a tale of the agony of unrequited love.  She should have read from Part XIII of Ovid's Remedia Amoris:

Remembering reopens love, the wound’s newly re-opened:
trifling errors damage the weak-minded.
Consider how, if you touch ashes that are almost dead
with sulphur, they revive, and a tall flame comes from nothing.
So, if you don’t avoid whatever reawakens love,
the flames will light again that once were quenched.