Grief

Grief (pronounced greef)

(1) Acute mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret; deep or intense sorrow or distress, associated especially with the death of someone.

(2) A cause or occasion of keen distress or sorrow.

(3) In online use (especially in gaming and dating from the late 1990s), to behave in an un-sportsmanlike way or take pleasure in antagonizing other players (used as “to grief”, “griefing” or “be griefed” etc (and vaguely similar to the verb sense of troll)); to exploit a glitch or execute an online prank that diminishes or ruins a website or other online experience for other users.

(4) In idiomatic use, as “come to grief”, to suffer disappointment, misfortune, or other trouble; to fail:

(5) In idiomatic use as “good grief”, an exclamation of dismay, surprise or relief which can be used also to convey approval or disapproval, depending on context, verbal & non-verbal.

(6) In idiomatic use, as “giving me grief”, an expression of (usually mild) annoyance.

1175-1225: From the Middle English greef & gref (hardship, suffering, pain, bodily affliction), from the Anglo-French gref, from the verb grever (afflict, burden, oppress), from the Old French grief (grave, heavy, grievous, sad), from the Vulgar Latin grevis & gravare (make heavy; cause grief), from the Latin gravis (weighty, heavy, grievous, sad) (later influenced by its antonym levis) and ultimately from primitive Indo-European gréhus, gwere & gwerə- (heavy).  The general sense of “suffering or hardship” (Emotional pain, generally arising from misfortune, significant personal loss, bereavement, misconduct of oneself or others, etc.; sorrow; sadness) evolved between the early thirteenth and fourteenth centuries; a doublet of grave.  The alternative forms were greefe & griefe, both long obsolete.  The expression “good grief” appears to date only from 1912 but has been used in historical fiction which long pre-dates the twentieth century.

The circa 1300 adjective grievous was from the Anglo-French grevous, from the Old French grevos (heavy, large, weighty; hard, difficult, toilsome) and was formed directly from grief.  The term grievous bodily harm (the famous GBH) was first used in English criminal law in 1803.  The circa 1300 noun grievance (state of being aggrieved) was from the Old French grevance (harm, injury, misfortune; trouble, suffering, agony, sorrow) from grever (to harm, to burden, be harmful to) and was first used in reference to a cause of such a condition from the late fifteenth century.  The verb is now most commonly found in the gerund-participle griefing and the derived noun griefer; the past participle is griefed and the noun plural griefs.  The related terms include grievance, grieve & grievous and grief is sometimes used as a modifier (grief-striken, grief-tourism et al).  Words which often overlap with grief include agony, anguish, bereavement, despair, discomfort, gloom, heartache, heartbreak, melancholy, misery, moroseness, mourning, pain, regret, remorse, sadness, sorrow, trouble, unhappiness, woe & worry.

The DSM-5-TR, ICD codes and Prolonged Grief Disorder (PGD)

In March 2022, the American Psychiatric Association (APA) released a revision to the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5 (2013)).  DSM-5-TR (text revision) includes some updated text and new references, clarifications to diagnostic criteria and updates to the ICD-10-CM (International Classification of Diseases, Tenth Revision, Clinical Modification) codes which have changed since the DSM-5 was published in 2013.  A text revision to an edition of the DSM is released when a number of changes to the text that accompanies the description of disorders and their criteria are warranted by new evidence or the need for more clarity.  The text of the DSM-5 had since 2013 received some minor corrections but DSM-5-TR is a systematic text revision based on a review of the literature of the last decade (and some re-evaluation of some earlier material).  By contrast, a new edition of the DSM is released when there are thought to have been sufficient advances in the field to support the creation, substantive revisions, and elimination of multiple diagnostic criteria sets or disorders.  There has within the profession been some discussion of the implications of this and some have suggested there’s no indication of support for the need for a DSM-6, some speculation the APA might adopt the conventions of the software industry and work instead towards a version 5.1, the first number indicating a major release, the second the agglomeration of minor revisions, a format well suited to digital editions.

New ICD-10-CM codes have been added to flag and monitor suicidal behavior and non-suicidal self-injury and these can be used without the requirement of another diagnosis and in total there are over 50 coding updates for substance intoxication, withdrawal and other disorders.  The innovation in the use of the ICD-10-CM codes relation to suicidal behavior is interesting.  It’s long been understood suicidal behavior can be a useful tracking mechanism or flag for clinical attention and these codes are now available to all clinicians without the need for a mental disorder diagnosis.  The suicidal behavior codes can be applied to individuals who have engaged in potentially self-injurious behavior with at least some intent to die as a result of the act and the evidence of intent can be explicit or inferred from the behavior or circumstances.  Many suicide attempts don’t result self-injury and the changes reflect the analysis of the statistical data which indicated the previous focus on self-harm and injury meant the extent of the disorder was in many ways underestimated.  It should mean the always interesting phenomenon of “suicide attempts” undertaken in the in absence of suicidal intent becomes better understood or at least quantified.

The new diagnosis of Prolonged Grief Disorder (PGD) has been added to the trauma- and stressor-related disorders chapter.  Noted for centuries, much recent research and clinical experience has indicated there are those who experience a persistent inability to overcome their grief for the loss of a loved one for at least a year or more, with intense yearning or preoccupation with thoughts or memories of the deceased person almost every day since the death (and it’s noted that in children and adolescents, this preoccupation may focus on the circumstances of the death), symptoms severe enough to impair day-to-day functioning.  As part of the diagnosis, the duration and severity of the bereavement reaction must clearly exceed what is expected based on standards related to the individual’s social, cultural, or religious background. This does not imply people feeling grief periodically one year or more after the loss of a loved one have the disorder but those with intense and impairing grief after one year may be considered for the diagnosis.  Prior to the fifth edition, the DSM did not distinguish between “normal” and prolonged grief but PGD may be considered an evolution given the DSM-5 did include a category of persistent complex bereavement disorder (known also as traumatic grief (TG) & complicated grief (CG)) as a “condition for further study” and the first draft of a proposal was in 2018 submitted to the DSM Steering Committee and the Review Committee on Internalizing Disorders, a white paper circulated for discussion before being approved by the Board of Trustees.

The DSM editors clearly were sensitive to suggestions the creation of prolonged grief disorder might have the effect of pathologizing grief and there has long be the criticism that psychiatry increasingly has attempted to list as disorders much that has for centuries been considered part of the “normal” human condition.  To clarity things, the editors note the diagnosis is not a medicalization of grief and the diagnosis is intended only for those individuals who meet the criteria: something dramatically different from the grief normally experienced by anyone who loses a loved one; a grief intractable and disabling in a way that typical grieving is not.  Grief continues to be thought of as something healthy but not if ongoing.

One internally significant technical change is also noted: there are now no unique DSM codes.  The codes that appear in DSM-5-TR are the ICD codes that are equivalent to the DSM diagnoses given the version of the manual and only ICD-10-CM codes are used because this is the version of ICD that is in effect in the United States.  Although based on the World Health Organization’s (WHO) ICD-10 codes, ICD-10-CM codes in DSM-5 (and thus DSM-5-TR) have been modified from ICD-10 for clinical use by the US Centers for Disease Control (CDC) and Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics (NCHS) and provide the only permissible diagnostic codes for mental disorders for clinical use in the United States. In the United States, the use of ICD-10-CM codes for disorders in DSM-5-TR has been mandated by the Health Care Financing Administration (HCFA) for purposes of reimbursement under the Medicare system. Although it sounds nerdy, it’s an important advance in standardization which should improve record keeping, data collection, retrieval, and compilation of statistical information.

One change which was expected was the update to the terminology to describe gender dysphoria based on updated and more culturally sensitive language.  (1) desired gender is now experienced gender, (2) cross-sex medical procedure is now gender-affirming medical procedure” and (4)  the companion terms natal male / natal female are now individual assigned male / female at birth.  Whether these changes prove to be final remains to be seen; the whole area is one of shifting linguistic sand but what’s in DSM-5-TR reflects current thinking and the entire text of the Gender Dysphoria chapter has also been updated based on a review of the literature.

Also expected was the restructuring (again) of the diagnostic criteria of Autism, reflecting the view that Autism seems to be over diagnosed, a problem inherent in spectrum conditions.  Less anticipated was the creation of Unspecified Mood Disorder (UMD) which, ominously, does sound like the criminal charge of “unspecified offences” used in the justice systems of places like the DPRK (North Korea) but which seems to have been coined to permit clinicians some flexibility so that patients presenting with irritability, agitation and sadness (and for whom some diagnosis is clearly appropriate), don’t have to be labeled as “bipolar unspecified” or “depressive disorder unspecified’, both stigmatizing conditions, the presence of which in a medical record may have implications which last a lifetime.  It’s thus a legitimate diagnosis (which really is important to patients) to be applied until a more specific disorder is found but does raise two interesting technical points: (1) can any emo not be diagnosed UMD and (2) should all emos be diagnosed UMD?

Plangent

Plangent (pronounced plan-juhnt)

(1) Resounding loudly with an expressively plaintive sound (associated especially with the chiming of bells).

(2) Any loud, reverberating sound (now rare and probably obsolete).

(3) Mournful music (regardless of volume).

(4) By extension, in literature and poetry, text which is plaintive, mournful, a lament etc (now used loosely).

(5) By extension, in casual use, a state of mind somewhat short of melancholy.

(6) Beating, dashing, as in the action of breaking waves (obsolete except (rarely) as a literary or poetic device).

1822: From the Latin verb plangent- (stem of plangēns), the present participle of plangere (to beat (in sorrow more than anger)) and third-person plural future active indicative of plangō (I beat (my breast); I lament), from the primitive Indo-European root plak- (to strike).  The origin of the idea was in the “breast-beating” a demonstrable form of grief noted by anthropologists in cultures far removed from European contact so apparently something which evolved independently and possibly inherited from our more distant ancestor species.  Plangent is an adjective, plangency is a noun and plangently is an adverb; the noun plural is plagencies.

Plangent was adopted in English to mean “a loud sound which echoes and is suggestive of a quality of mournfulness”.  It was originally most associated with the bells sounded during funerals or memorial ceremonies.  By the mid-late nineteenth century additional layers of meaning had been absorbed, notably (1) sorrowful or somber music and, (2) prose or poetic verse evocative of such feelings.  So it was linguistic mission creep rather than a meaning shift that saw “plangent” a word to use of sad songs and maudlin poetry.  In the technical sense, the original meaning still resonates; the “haunting peal of a church bell” can be called plangent and a poem which as text on the page may seem emotionless can be rendered startlingly plangent, if spoken in a certain tone and with a feeling for the pause.  In the jargon of some military bands, “the plangent” remains the instruction for the use of percussion to produce the slow, continuous and atonal beat used for funeral marches or somber commemorative ceremonies and this recalls the original use in English: “beating with a loud sound”, from the Latin plangere, (to strike or beat), the idea in antiquity an allusion to the “beating of the breast” associated with grief.  From this developed the general sense of “lament” which has survived and flourished.  The adjectival sense of anything “loud and resounding” is probably obsolete.

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

Suffering ranging from mild displeasure to dark despair being clearly an inescapable part of the human condition, the synonyms of plangent are legion, the choice dictated by the precise nuance one wishes to capture, the forms including: aching, agonized, anguished, bemoaning, bewailing, bitter, deploring, doleful, dolorous, funereal, grieving, heartbroken, lamentable, longing, lugubrious, mournful, plaintive, regretful, rueful, sorrowful, sorry, wailing, weeping & woeful.  Take your pick.

Long Distance II by Tony Harrison (b 1937)

 Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.
 
You couldn't just drop in.  You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.
 
He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.
 
I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.

Shortly before he died, the poet Stephen Spender (1909–1995) wrote that Tony Harrison’s series of elegies for his parents “...was the sort of poetry for which I've been waiting my whole life.”

Compunction

Compunction (pronounced kuhm-puhngk-shuhn)

(1) A feeling of uneasiness or anxiety of the conscience caused by regret for doing wrong or causing pain; contrition; remorse; sorrow.

(2) Any uneasiness or hesitation about the rightness of an action.

1350–1400: From the Middle English compunccion, from the Old French compunction (from which in the twelfth century Modern French gained compunction), from the Late Latin compunctionem (a pricking) & compūnctiōn- (stem of the Ecclesiastical Latin compunctiō) (remorse; a stinging or pricking (of one’s guilty conscience)), the construct being the Classical Latin compūnct(us) (past participle of compungere (to sting; severely to prick), the construct of which was (com- (used as an intensive prefix) + pungere (to prick; to puncture) (from a suffixed form of the primitive Indo-European root peuk- (to prick)) + -iōn- (stem of –iō and a suffix forming nouns, used especially on past participle stems).  The origin of the meaning in Latin (transferred from the element pungere (to prick; to puncture)) was the idea of “a pricking of one’s guilty conscience” which could induce some feeling of regret although, like many injuries cause by pin-pricks, recovery was often rapid.  The adjective compunctious (causing compunction, pricking the conscience) dates from the late sixteenth century.  Compunction & compunctiousness are nouns, compunctious & compunctionless are adjectives and compunctiously is an adverb; the noun plural is compunctions.

The Ecclesiastical Latin compunctiō (and compunction in other forms) appears frequently in the texts of the early Church, used in a figurative sense originally to convey a more intense sense of “contrition” or “remorse” than that familiar in modern use.  Contrition and remorse were of course a thing vital for the Church to foster, indeed to demand of the congregation.  The very structure of Christianity was built upon the idea that all were born in a state of guilt because the very act of conception depending upon an original sin and this was what made Jesus unique: the virgin birth meant Christ was born without sin although centuries of theological squabbles would ensue as the debate swirled about his nature as (1) man, (2) the son of God and (3) God.  That was too abstract for most which was fine with the priests who preferred to focus on the guilt of their flock and their own importance as the intermediaries between God and sinner, there to arrange forgiveness, something which turned out to be a commodity and commodities are there to be sold.  Forgiveness was really the first futures market and compunction was one of the currencies although gold and other mediums of exchange would also figure.

Sorry (Regretful or apologetic for one's actions) was from the From Middle English sory, from the Old English sāriġ (feeling or expressing grief, sorry, grieved, sorrowful, sad, mournful, bitter), from the Proto-West Germanic sairag, from the Proto-Germanic sairagaz (sad), from the primitive Indo-European seh₂yro (hard, rough, painful).  It was cognate with the Scots sairie (sad, grieved), the Saterland Frisian seerich (sore, inflamed), the West Frisian searich (sad, sorry), the Low German serig (sick, scabby), the German dialectal sehrig (sore, sad, painful) and the Swedish sårig.  Remarkably, despite the similarities in spelling and meaning, “sorry” is etymologically unrelated to “sorrow”.  Sorrow (a state of woe; unhappiness) was from the Middle English sorow, sorwe, sorghe & sorȝe, from the Old English sorg & sorh (care, anxiety, sorrow, grief), from the Proto-West Germanic sorgu, from the Proto-Germanic surgō (which may be compared with the West Frisian soarch, the Dutch zorg, the German Sorge, and the Danish, Swedish and Norwegian sorg), from the primitive Indo-European swergh (watch over, worry; be ill, suffer) (which may be compared with the Old Irish serg (sickness), the Tocharian B sark (sickness), the Lithuanian sirgti (be sick) and the Sanskrit सूर्क्षति (sū́rkṣati) (worry).

Johnny Depp & Amber Heard saying sorry in Australia and Johnny Depp deconstructing sorry in London.

Sorry indicates (1) one is regretful or apologetic for one’s thoughts or actions but it can also mean (2) one is grieved or saddened (especially by the loss of something or someone), (3) someone or something is in a sad or regrettable state or (4) someone or something is hopelessly inadequate for their intended role or purpose.  Such is human nature that expressions of sorry in the sense of an apology are among the more common exchanges and one suspects something like the 80/20 rule applies: 80% of apologies are offered by (or extracted from) 20% of the population.  So frequent are they that an art has evolved to produce phrases by which an apology can be delivered in which sorry is somehow said without actually saying sorry.  This is the compunction one fells when one is not feeling compunctious and a classic example was provided when the once (perhaps then happily) married actors Johnny Depp (b 1963) & Amber Heard (b 1986) were in 2015 caught bringing two pet dogs into Australia in violation of the country’s strict biosecurity laws.  Ms Heard pleaded guilty to falsifying quarantine documents, stating in mitigation her mistake was induced by “sleep deprivation”.  No conviction was recorded (the maximum sentence available being ten years in jail) and she was placed on a Aus$1,000 one-month good behavior bond, the couple ordered to make a “public apology” and that they did, a short video provided, the script unexceptional but the performances something like a Monty Python sketch.  However, whatever the brief performance lacked in sincerity, as free advertising for the biosecurity regime, it was invaluable.  Mr Depp later returned to the subject when promoting a film in London.

The synonyms for “sorry” (as in an apology) include regret, apologize, compunctious, contrite, penitent, regretful, remorseful & repentant (which is more a subsequent act).  Practiced in the art of the “non-apologetic” apology are politicians (some of whom have honed it to the point where it’s more a science) who have a number of ways of nuancing things.  Sometimes the excuse is that simply to say “sorry” might subsequent legal proceedings be construed as an admission of liability, thus exposing the exchequer and there was some basis for that concept which has prompted some jurisdictions explicitly to write into legislation that in traffic accidents and such, simply to say “sorry” cannot be construed as such an admission.  That of course has had no apparent effect on the behaviour of politicians.  Even when there is no possibly of exposing the state to some sort of claim, politicians are still averse to anything like the word “sorry” because it’s seen as a “loss of face” and a victory for one’s opponents.

There are exceptions.  Some politicians, especially during periods of high popularity, worked out that such was the novelty, saying sorry could work quite well, especially if delivered in a manner which seemed sincere (and the right subject, in the right hands, can learn such tricks) although some who found it worked did overdo it, the repetition making it clear it was just another cynical tactic.  An example was Peter Beattie (b 1952; Premier of Queensland 1998-2007) who found the electorate responded well to a leader saying sorry but such was the low quality of the government he headed that there was often something for which to apologize and having set the precedent, he felt compelled to carry on until the sheer repetitive volume of the compunctiousness began merely to draw attention to all the incompetence.

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

The other exception is the set-piece event.  This is where a politician apologizes on behalf of someone else (a previous government, hopefully the opposition or something a vague as the nation in some dim, distant past) while making it clear that personally it’s nothing to do with them personally.  There has been a spate of these in recent decades, many apologizing for egregiously appalling acts by white men against ethnic minorities, indigenous populations, the disabled or other powerless groups.  Again, some of the apologies have been in the form of “personally sorry it happened”, thereby ticking the box without costing anything; people like and indigenous population apparently deserving words but not compensation.  For the rest of us, ranging from the genuinely sincere to the cynically opportunistic nihilistic psychopaths, the most obvious tool is the adverb: to say “I am so sorry” can be more effective than “I’m sorry” provided the tone of voice, inflections and the non-verbal clues are all in accord.  Sorry is recommend by many because it so easily can be made to sound sincere with a ease that’s challenging with compunctious, contrite, penitent, regretful, and remorseful, the longer words ideal for one politician “apologizing” to another in a form which is linguistically correct while being quite contemptuous.

Lament

Lament (pronounced luh-ment)

(1) To feel or express sorrow or regret for.

(2) To mourn for or over.

(3) An expression of grief or sorrow.

(4) A formal expression of sorrow or mourning, especially in verse or song; an elegy or dirge.

1520-1530: Ultimately, the noun was from the Latin lāmentum (plaint) and the verb from the Latin lāmentārī (to wail, moan, weep, lament), a derivative of lāmentum (a wailing, moaning, weeping).  In English, lament was a backformation from lamentation or else from the fourteenth century Middle French lamenter (to moan, to bewail" or directly from the Latin lāmentārī (from lāmentum).  The other formation in Latin was lāmentor (I wail, I weep”), from lāmenta (wailings, laments, moanings), the construct being la- (thought likely imitative) + the formative –mentum in the sense of “to project”.  

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

The adjective lamented in the sense of "mourned for" is from 1610 and the use as a form of mourning or lyric poetry dates from the 1690s.  Given the nature of man, the adjective unlamented, attested since the 1590s, is often used.  Lament & lamenting are nouns & verbs, lamentations & lamenter are nouns, lamentable and (the unpleasingly rare) lamentful are adjectives, lamentingly is an adverb and lamented is a verb & adjective; the common forms of the noun plural are is laments & lamentations.

Destruction of Temple of Jerusalem (1867) by Francesco Hayez (1791-1882).

The Old Testament’s Book of Lamentations (from אֵיכָה‎, (‘Êykhôh) (how) in the Hebrew), written probably during the sixth century BC, commemorates in five poems the destruction in 586-587 BC of Jerusalem by the neo-Babylonians.  By this time, the language of lament already enjoyed a rich tradition in the writings of the Israelite religion, borrowing from a genre known in ancient Mesopotamian practices and continuing to late biblical times.  Lamentations is a bleak work which documents undeserved suffering and focuses on the dead and those who mourn their loss.  It seems clear that for those forsaken by God, hopes of redemption are scant although, despite it all, it’s clear that even if God has tired of Israel, the Israelites must keep the faith and hope one day for His grace.  There’s an exploration too of guilt, the Book of Lamentations drawing from ancient texts the teaching that the destruction of the holy city was God’s retribution for the sin and wickedness of the inhabitants.

The biblical message thus is: (1) There are consequences for sin and if repentance is refused even if offered time and again, God will deliver the appropriate judgment.  (2) Lamentation is the way to express grief and one good for the soul for in life there must be sadness. (3) Beyond despair there is always hope.  Although the people of Judah had defied God, committed idolatry, been adulterous and performed abominations and thereby deserved their just punishment, even in his judgment, God offers hope with the dawning of each new day.

Charlotte Brontë (1816–1855).

Some anthologies include Charlotte Brontë’s poem Life (1846) among the laments but that may be the lingering effect of Elizabeth Gaskell's (1810–1865) 1857 biography, a very Victorian work which managed to portray the author of the deliciously depraved Jane Eyre (1847) as the doomed, saint-like victim of the circumstances which crushed her and the consumption which stalked her.  Gaskell’s crafted miserabilia of course created a legend of its own, a kind of death cult for those for whom victimhood isn’t quite enough so she’s long been on the emo reading list.  She deserves better.  Life is a poem which notes why one might lament the vicissitudes of existence but doesn’t long dwell on it and one suspects Charlotte Brontë found life on Earth enchanting.  As one might gather from Jane Eyre, she thought it better to better to lust for life than long lament losses.

Life (1846) by Charlotte Brontë

Life, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.

Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall?

Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly!

What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway?

Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.

Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair!

Damocles

Damocles (pronounced dam-uh-kleez)

As Sword of Damocles, any situation threatening imminent harm or disaster.

Circa 300 BC: From the Ancient Greek name Δαμοκλῆς (Damoklês).  The most commonly used derived form is the adjectival Damoclean.  There is a school of thought no initial capital is demanded except when referring to Damocles himself.

In mythology

In Classical mythology, Damocles was a sycophantic courtier at the court of King Dionysius II of Syracuse.  Damocles was heard to say Dionysius must be very happy  living the life of a king and on hearing of this, the ruler offered to let him live like that for a day.  Delighted, Damocles accepted and was placed on a throne, attended by servants serving him the finest wines at a most lavish banquet.  Hours into the feast, Damocles chanced to look up and saw, just above his head, a razor-sharp dangling sword, suspended by a single strand from the tail of a horse.  Shocked at the risk to his life, Damocles asked the king why the blade was there.  Dionysius explained it was so Damocles might fully experience the life of a king, including the constant sense of danger powerful people must endure.  Damocles asked to be excused from the feast and be allowed to return to his humble station; the king granting his request.  The original meaning from Antiquity, the sword symbolizing the constant threats powerful people face, has changed over time, now referring to any looming threat, not just those afflicting the rich and powerful.

Long thought apocryphal, legend has it the story was in a lost history of of Sicily by Timaeus of Tauromenium (circa 356–260 BC) and it’s speculated Cicero may have read it in the works of the (1^st century BC) Greek historian Diodorus Siculus for he included it in his Tusculanae Disputationes (Tusculan Thoughts (45 BC)), a five-part treatise of Greek philosophy discussing: the contempt of death; pain; grief; emotional disturbances; and whether virtue alone is sufficient for a happy life).  It was from here the phrase entered classical languages, Horace exploring the theme in the Third Book of Odes (23 BC), noting none could be happy "above whose impious head hangs a drawn sword (destrictus ensis)."  It became part of modern European languages after the myths of antiquity were widely published after the Renaissance.  William Shakespeare (1564–1616) explored the theme in Henry IV, Part 1 (circa 1596), Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) used the phrase in The Canterbury Tales (1386-1400) and sixteenth & seventeenth century works sometimes explained the story using the words metus est plenus tyrannis (a tyrant is always fearful).  During the Cold War, both John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; US president 1961-1963) and comrade Khrushchev (1894–1971; Soviet leader 1953-1964) described nuclear weapons as Damoclean although JFK was lamenting the threat they posed to humanity whereas comrade Khrushchev was more bullish, telling the West the USSR’s newly tested fifty-plus megaton hydrogen bomb would "hang like the sword of Damocles over the imperialists' heads".

Comrade Khrushchev's Damoclean sword: A depiction of 30 October 1961 test of Soviet AN-602 hydrogen bomb (Царь-бомба (Tsar Bomba, known also by the Soviet code names Ivan or Vanya (the Pentagon preferred Tsar Bomb)).  The most powerful nuclear weapon ever detonated, the design was technically capable of being able to be produced in a form which would have yielded some 100 megatons but the Soviets built it in smaller form (1) to reduce fall-out and (2) the bomber would have time to escape from the critical blast zone.  For a long time the US estimated the yield at 54 megatons and the Russians at 58 but after the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, it was confirmed the true yield was 50-51 megatons.

Bohemian

Bohemian (pronounced boh-hee-mee-uhn)

(1) A native or inhabitant of Bohemia.

(2) A person, as an artist or writer, who lives and acts free of regard for conventional rules and practices (technically should be lowercase but rule often not observed.)

(3) The Czech language, especially as spoken in Bohemia.

(4) Slang term sometime applied to Gypsies (Roma or Travelers), especially in central and eastern Europe.

(5) Of or relating to Bohemia, its people, or their language, especially the old kingdom of Bohemia; a Czech.

(6) Pertaining to or characteristic of the unconventional life of a bohemian (again, should be lowercase).

(7) Living a wandering or vagabond life.

1570-1580:  The construct was Bohemi(a) + -an (the adjectival suffix).  The modern meaning "a gypsy of society" dates from 1848, drawn from the fifteenth century French bohemién, from the country name.  Meaning is thus associative, from the prevailing French view that gypsies (Roma or Travelers) came from Bohemia (and technically, their first appearance in Western Europe may have been directly from Bohemia).  An alternative view is it’s from association with fifteenth century Bohemian Hussite heretics who had been driven from their country about that time; most etymologists prefer the former.

A bohemian was thus something of “a gypsy of society; a person (especially a painter, poet etc) who lives a free and somewhat dissipated life, rejecting the conventionalities of life and having little regard for social standards”.  The transferred sense, in reference to unconventional living, is attested in French by 1834 and was popularized by Henri Murger's (1822-1861) stories from the late 1840s, later collected as Scenes de la Vie de Boheme (which formed the basis of Puccini's La Bohème).  It appears in English in that sense in William Makepeace Thackeray's (1811–1863) Vanity Fair (1848); the Middle English word for "a resident or native of Bohemia" was Bemener.

1934 German 40 Pf postage stamp.  President von Hindenburg once vowed never to appoint Hitler Chancellor (head of government), saying the highest office he's grant would be as a postmaster where "he could lick the stamps with my head on them."

As a descriptor of lifestyle, in the West, bohemian sometimes has a romantic association with freedom but it can also be a put-down.  In translation it can also be misunderstood.  Paul von Hindenburg (1847–1934; Field Marshal and German head of state 1925-1934) dismissively called Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Nazi head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) a Böhmischer Gefreiter which is usually translated in English as “bohemian corporal”, leading many to conclude it was a reference to his famously erratic routine and self-described (and promoted) artistic temperament.  Actually Hindenburg was speaking literally.  In the Austro-Prussian War of 1866, he’d served as an officer in the Prussian Army, at one point passing through the Bohemian village named Broumov (Braunau in German and now located in the Czech Republic) and knowing Hitler had been born in Braunau, assumed the future Führer had been born a Bohemian.  Hitler however was actually born in the Austrian town of Braunau in Austria although the Field Marshal was right about him being a Gefreiter (an enlisted rank in the military equating with a lance corporal or private first class (PFC)), that being Hitler’s role in the First World War (1914-1918)).  If vague on geography, one would expect Hindenburg to get the military terminology correct; he once claimed the only books he ever read were the Bible and the army manual.

Either way, the president’s slight was a deliberate, class-based put-down, the army’s often aristocratic (and predominately Prussian) officer corps regarding a corporal from somewhere south as definitely not “one of us” and one didn’t even have to come from as far south as Austria to earn Prussian disapprobation; Otto von Bismarck (1815–1898; Chancellor of the German Empire 1871-1890) once described Bavarians as “halfway between an Austrian and a human being”.  Even a Bavarian officer however could think himself superior to an Austrian corporal and Ernst Röhm (1887-1934; the most famous victim of the 1937 Nacht der langen Messer (Night of the Long Knives (Unternehmen Kolbri (Operation Hummingbird)) and referred to by the Nazis as the Röhm Putsch) more than once dismissed Hitler as a lächerlicher Gefreiter (ridiculous corporal).  Hindenburg’s phrase was well-known among the officer corps and generals were known to repeat it when among friends.  Most famously it was reprised by Field Marshal Friedrich Paulus (1890–1957) who is now remembered only for commanding the doomed Sixth Army, surrendering the remnants to Soviet forces in February 1943.  Hitler promoted him to Field Marshal just before the city fell, explaining that he wanted to give him “this last satisfaction”, the sub-text being that no German Field Marshal had ever been captured and that Paulus should draw his own conclusions and commit suicide.  Paulus however decline to shoot himself for that “Böhmischer Gefreiter”.

La Bohème (1896) by Giacomo Puccini

In 1830s Paris, some bohemian youths are living in squalid flats in the Latin Quarter.  Two of them, the writer Rodolfo and the frail Mimi, meet by chance when Mimi knocks on her neighbor Rodolfo’s door because her solitary candle has blown out.  He lights it for her and they fall in love.  These days, they'd be thought a couple of emos.

They have their ups and downs, as Puccini’s lovers do, and Rodolfo, though finding Mimi a bit highly-strung, really loves her but fears her staying with him and living in such poverty will damage her fragile health.  Worried she may die, he decides to leave.  Hearing this, Mimi is overcome with feelings of love and they make a pact to stay together until spring, after which they can separate.

In early spring, in Rodolfo arms, Mimi falls gravely ill and the bohemians rush off to sell their meager possessions so they can buy her medicine.  Together the two lovers recall how they met and talk of their poor, happy days together.  She takes medicine but her condition worsens and she dies, leaving Rodolfo in inconsolable grief.

Maria Callas (1923-1977) was as improbable a Mimi as she was a Madam Butterfly and never performed the role on-stage.  However, in 1956, under Antonino Votto (1896-1985) in Milan, she, with Giuseppe di Stefano (1921-2008) as Rodolfo, recorded the Opera for Decca and it’s one of the great Callas performances.  To this day, it's the most dramatic La Bohème available on disc.

A generation later, under Herbert von Karajan (1908-1989), Mirella Freni (1935-2020) and Luciano Pavarotti (1935-2007) recorded it for Decca.  Karajan, better known for conducting Wagner with hushed intensity, produced a lush and romantic interpretation.

Lindsay Lohan in a bohemian phase, New York, 2014.

In fashion, the bohemian look (boho or boho chic for short) is sometimes said to be not precisely defined but that’s really not true because the style is well-understood and, done properly, can’t be mistaken for anything else.  Although the trick to the look is in the layering of the elements, the style is characterized by long flowing or tiered skirts and dresses, peasant blouses, clichéd touches like tunics or wood jewelry, embroidery or embellishment with beading, fringed handbags, and jeweled or embellished flat sandals (or flat ankle boots).  Boho dresses owe much to the pre-Raphaelite women of the late nineteenth century although in the popular imagination there’s more of an association with the hippies of the 1960s (and those of the 1970s who didn’t realize the moment had passed).  The terms bohemian & boho obviously long pre-dated the hippie era but as fashion terms boho & boho-chic didn’t come into widespread use until early in the twenty-first century.

Ambrosia

Ambrosia (pronouced am-bro-zia)

(1) In classical mythology, the food (sometimes called nectar) of the gods and said to bestow immortality.

(2) Something especially delicious to taste or smell.

(3) A fruit dish made of oranges and shredded coconut.  Sometimes includes pineapple.

(4) Alternative name for beebread.

(5) Any of various herbaceous plants constituting the genus Ambrosia, mostly native to America but widely naturalized: family Asteraceae (composites).  The genus includes the ragweeds.

1545-1555.  From the Middle English, from the Old French ambroise, from the Latin ambrosia (favored food or drink of the gods) from the Ancient Greek ambrosia (food of the gods), noun use of the feminine of ambrosious (thought to mean literally "of the imortals") from ambrotos (immoratlity; immortal, imperishable).  The construct was a- (not) + mbrotos (related to mortos (mortal), from the primitive Indo-European root mer- (to rub away, to harm (also "to die" and used widely when forming words referring to death and to beings subject to death).  Writers in Antiquity woud use the word when speaking of theit favorite herbs and it's been used in English to describe delectable foods (though originally of fruit drinks) since the 1680s and came to be used figuratively for anything delightful by the 1730s.  Applied to certain herbs by Pliny and Dioscorides; used of various foods for mortals since 1680s (originally of fruit drinks); used figuratively for "anything delightful" by 1731.  The adjective ambrosial dates from the 1590s in the sense of "immortal, divine, of the quality of ambrosia", the sense of "fragrant, delicious" developed by the 1660s.  The other adjectival forms were ambrosiac (circa 1600) & ambrosian (1630s).

Ambrose was the masculine proper name, from the Latin Ambrosius, from the Ancient Greek ambrosios (immortal, belonging to the immortals),  The Biblioteca Ambrosian (Ambrosian Library) in Milan (1609), established by Cardinal Federico Borromeo (1564–1631), is named for Saint Ambrose of Milan (circa 339–397) Bishop of Milan 374-397.

Cupid, Psyche and the Nectar of the Gods

In Greek mythology, Psyche was the youngest and loveliest of a king’s three daughters.  So haunting was Psyche’s beauty that people travelled from afar to pay homage, neglecting the worship of Venus (Aphrodite), the goddess of love and beauty, instead venerating the nymph.  Venus became enraged at finding her altars deserted, men instead turning their devotions to the young virgin, watching as she passed, singing her praises and strewing her way with chaplets and flowers.

Indignant at the exaltation of a mortal, Venus began her righteous rant.  "Am I then to be eclipsed in my honors by a mere mortal girl?  In vain then did that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by Jove himself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, Pallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty."  Venus summoned her winged son, the mischievous Cupid and telling him of Psyche, ordered her revenge.  "My dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give your mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation and triumph."

Obediently, Cupid set to his task.  In the garden of Venus lay two fountains, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter.  Cupid filled two amber phials, one from each fountain and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, finding her asleep.  He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips and although though the sight of her moved him almost to pity, touched her side with the point of his arrow.  At the touch she awoke and her eyes gazed upon the invisible Cupid which so enchanted him he became confused and pricked himself with his own arrow.  Helplessly in love, his only thought now was to repair the mischief he had done and he poured the balmy drops of joy over all her silken blonde ringlets.

Psyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, gained no benefit from her charms.  While all cast covetous eyes upon her and all spoke her praises, not prince, plebeian or peasant ever asked for her hand in marriage.  Her two sisters had become betrothed to princes but Psyche sat in solitude, feeling cursed by the beauty which had failed to awaken love.  The king and queen, thinking they had incurred the wrath of the gods turned for guidance to the oracle of Apollo who answered: “The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. Her future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist."

Her parents, distraught, abandoned themselves to grief but Psyche was fatalistic, saying "Why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? You should rather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a Venus. I now perceive I am victim to that name.  I submit.  Lead me to that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me."  Accordingly, amid the lamentations of all, she was taken to the peak of the mountain and there left alone.  When the tearful girl stood at the summit, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the earth and carried her on the breeze, bringing her to rest in a flowery dale where she laid down to sleep.  When she awoke, refreshed, she looked around and beheld nearby a grove of tall and stately trees.  Entering the forest, she discovered in its midst a fountain from which bubbled crystal-clear waters and nearby, a splendid palace, so magnificent she knew it the work not of mortal hands, but the retreat of some god.  Drawn by admiration and wonder, she ventured to enter the door.  Amazed at what she saw, she walked along a marble floor so polished it shimmered, golden pillars supported a vaulted roof, walls were enriched with carvings and paintings of fantastic beasts.  Everything upon which her eye fell delighted her.

Soon, although she saw no one, she heard a voice.  "Sovereign lady, all that you see is yours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your commands with utmost care.  Retire, should you please, to your chamber, recline upon your bed of down and when you see fit, repair to the bath.  Your supper awaits in the alcove”.  Psyche took her bath and seated herself in the alcove, whereupon a table appeared laden with extraordinary delicacies of food and nectarous wines.   While she ate, she heard the playing of lute and harp and the harmony of song.

That night she met he husband but he came only in the darkness, fleeing before the dawn, but his words and caresses were of love and inspired in her a like passion.  Often she would beg him to stay so she might behold him in the light but he refused, telling her never to attempt to see him, for no good would come of it and that he would rather have her love him as a man than adore him as a god.  This, Psyche accepted but the days grew long and lonely and she began to feel she was living in a gilded cage.  One night, when her husband came, she told him of her distress, her charms enough to coax from him his unwilling acquiescence that her sisters could visit.  Delighted, she summoned the obedient Zephyr who brought them to the mountain and in happiness, they embraced.

The splendor and celestial delights of Psyche’s palace astonished her sisters but also aroused their envy and they began to pepper her with questions about her husband and she told them he was a beautiful youth who spent his days hunting in the mountains.  Unconvinced, the soon drew from her that she had never seen him and they began to fill her mind with dark suspicions, recalling the Pythian oracle had declared her doomed to marry a direful and tremendous monster.  Psyche protested but they told her the folk living in the valley say the husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, amusing himself while nourishing her with dainties that he may by and by devour her.  They told to one night to take with her a lamp and sharp blade so that when he slept she might light the lamp and see his true form.  If truly he is a monster they told her, "hesitate not and cut off its head".

Psyche tried to resist her sisters’ persuasions but knew she was curious and that night she took to bed a lamp and a long, sharp knife.  When he had fallen to sleep, silently she arose and lit her lamp, beholding but the most beautiful of the gods, his golden ringlets falling over his snowy neck, two dewy wings on his shoulders whiter than snow, with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring.  Entranced, as she moved her lamp better to see his face, a drop of hot oil fell on the shoulder of the god and startled, he opened his eyes and fixed them upon her.  They both were frozen for a few seconds, then suddenly and without a word, he spread his wings and flew out of the window.  Psyche, crying in despair, in vain endeavored to follow but fell from the window to the ground below.

Hearing her fall, Cupid for a moment paused in his flight and turned to her saying, "Oh faithless Psyche, is it thus you repay my love? After I disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and would cut off my head?  Go, return to your sisters, who you trust more than me.  I punish you no more than to forever leave you for love cannot dwell with suspicion."  With those words, he flew off, leaving poor Psyche crying into the earth.  For hours she sobbed and then looked around, but her palace and gardens had vanished and she found herself in a field in the city where her sisters dwelt.  She repaired thither and told them her story at which, though pretending to grieve with her, the two evil sisters inwardly rejoiced for both thought as one: that Cupid might now choose one of them.  Both the next morning silently arose and snuck secretly to the mountain where each called upon Zephyr to bear them to his lord but leaping up, there was no Zephyr to carry them on the breeze and each fell down the precipice to their deaths.

The devastated Psyche meanwhile wandered.  Day and night, without food or rest, she searched for her husband and one evening saw in the distance a magnificent temple atop a lofty mountain and she felt her heart beat, wondering if perhaps there was Cupid.  She walked to the temple and there saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in sheaves, mingled with ears of barley.  Scattered about, lay sickles and rakes, the instruments of harvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly from the weary reapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day.  This unseemly confusion disturbed the neat and tidy Psyche and she put herself to work, separating and sorting everything and putting all in its proper place, believing she ought to neglect none of the gods, but prove by her piety to prove she was worthy of their help.  The holy Ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus spoke to her, "Oh Psyche, truly your are worthy of our pity, though I cannot shield you from the frowns of Venus, I can teach you how best to allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender yourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband you have lost."  Filled with both fear and hope, Psyche made her way to the temple of Venus.

Venus met her with anger.  "Most undutiful and faithless of servants," said she, "do you at last remember you have a mistress or have you come to see your sick husband, the one injured by the wound given him by his worthless wife?  You are so ill favored you can be worthy of your lover only by showing industry and diligence.  I shall put you to work".  She led Psyche to temple’s storehouse in which sat vast piles of wheat, barley, vetches, beans and lentils, the food for her birds.  “Separate these grains, put them all in sacks and have it done by night” she commanded, leaving her to the task.  Shocked, Psyche sat silent, moving not a finger.  While she despaired, Cupid ordered an ant, a native of the fields, to bring all ants from the anthill and they gathered on the piles.  Quickly and with the efficiency of their breed, they took grain by grain, making perfect parcels of each and when done, vanished from sight.  As twilight fell, Venus returned from a banquet of the gods and seeing the sacks neatly stacked, became enraged.  "This is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed."  So saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and stormed off.

Next morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her, "Behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water.  There you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces on their backs.  Go now, fetch me some of that precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces."  Standing on the riverbank, wondering at the difficulty of her task, Psyche was about to cross but river god made the reeds speak, telling her "Oh maiden, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among those rams for as long as the sun shines, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth.  But when the noontide sun has driven them to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees."  Psyche did as they said and returned with her arms full of the golden fleece but Venus was not pleased.  "Well I know it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded I do not believe you are of use but I have another task for you.  Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to Proserpine and say, 'my mistress Venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own'.  Be not too long on your errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear this evening at the circle of the gods."

Psyche now believed her own destruction was at hand and, with no wish to delay what was not to be avoided, dashed to the top of a high tower, preparing to cast herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the shades below.  But then, a voice from the tower said to her, "Why, poor unlucky girl, do you design to put an end to your days in so dreadful a manner? And what cowardice makes you sink under this last danger when you have been so miraculously supported in all your former?"  Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the three-headed dog, and prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river and bring her back again. But the voice also cautioned, "When Proserpine has given you the box filled with her beauty, you must never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses."

Encouraged, Psyche obeyed the advice and travelled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. Admitted to the palace of Proserpine, she delivered her message from Venus and soon, she was handed the box, shut and filled with the precious commodity. Then she returned the way she came, glad once more to be in the light of day.  But as she walked along the path, a longing desire overcame her, an urge to look into the box for, as she imagined, a touch of the divine beauty would make her more desired by Cupid so, delicately, she opened the box.  But in there was nothing of beauty but only an infernal and truly Stygian sleep which, being set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell in the road where she stood, plunged into a deep sleep, lying there without sense or motion.

But Cupid was now recovered and could no longer bear the absence of his beloved Psyche and slipping through a crack in the window, he flew to where Psyche lay.  He gathered up the sleep from her and closed it again in the box, waking her with the gentlest touch of one of his arrows. "Again," said he, "have you almost perished by the same curiosity.  But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest."  Then Cupid, as swift as lightning, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication.  Jupiter was impressed and so earnestly did he plead the cause of the lovers that he won the consent of Venus and on hearing this, sent Mercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, he handed her a goblet ambrosia saying, "Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual."  Thus Psyche became at last united to Cupid, and in time, born to them was a daughter whose name was Pleasure.

Wedding Banquet of Cupid and Psyche (circa 1517) by Raphael (1483–1520).

The story of Cupid and the OCD Psyche is told by the Roman writer Apuleius (circa 124-circa 170) in three chapters in his rather risqué picaresque novel, The Metamorphoses of Apuleius (which Saint Augustine dubbed Asinus aureus (The Golden Ass (by which it’s today known)).  The Golden Ass is notable as the only full-length work of fiction in Classical Latin to have survived in its entirety and is a work with aspects which would be regarded as novel centuries later, including fantastical imagery, passages like fairy tales and elements which would now be called magic realism.  Like many modern fairy tales, there is a moral to the story and for Apuleius it was that it is love which makes to soul immortal and there was no need for subtlety, Cupid the son of the goddess of desire and Psyche's name originally meant soul.

With the re-discovery (and some re-invention) of much of antiquity during the Renaissance, the story gained much popularity and attracted the interest of artists and from Raphael’s (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, 1483–1520) studio came the best known evocation.  One of the scenes is the wedding feast, painted in the form of a hanging tapestry.  Psyche’s guest list was a roll-call of the gods, Ganymede, Apollo, Bacchus and Jupiter are all at the table, the Graces and the Hours in attendance.  The artists (for some the work was executed by professional painters under Raphael’s guidance) do have some fun, very much in the spirit of Apuleius for above the flying Mercury sits, artfully arranged, a suggestive conjunction of certain vegetables and fruits.

The Wedding Feast of Cupid and Psyche (1532) by Giulio Romano.

The romance of Cupid and Psyche drew other artists including the Italian Giulio Romano (Giulio Pippi, circa 1499-1546), a student of Raphael whose influence permeates.  While not highly regarded by critics and better remembered as an architect, Romano is of note because he was among the earliest of the artists whose work can be called Mannerist and certainly his wedding feast painting includes the mythological, a staged and theatrical setting, eroticism and an unusual sense of perspective; all characteristic of Mannerist art although he remained entirely naturalistic in the callipygian rendering of Psyche’s buttocks.

In Shakespeare's late drama The Winter's Tale there’s an allusion to Romano as “that rare Italian master” but despite the bard’s apparent admiration, historians of art treat him as little more than a footnote; the shadow Raphael cast was long.  Some critics seem determined to devalue his work, the Catholic Encyclopaedia (1913) noting it was “prolific and workmanlike, always competent…” but with “…no originality; as a painter, he is merely a temperament, a prodigious worker. His manual dexterity is unaccompanied by any greatness of conception or high moral principle.  His lively but superficial fancy, incapable of deep emotion, of religious feeling, or even of observation, attracted him to neutral subjects, to mythological paintings, and imaginary scenes from the world of fable. Therein under the cloak of humanism, he gave expression to a sensualism rather libertine than poetical, an epicureanism unredeemed by any elevated or noble quality.  It is this which wins for Giulio his distinctive place in art.  His conception of form was never quite original; it was always a clever and bookish compromise between Raphael and Michelangelo.  His sense of color grows ever louder and uglier, his ideas are void of finesse, whatever brilliancy they show is second-hand. His single distinctive characteristic is the doubtful ease with which he played with the commonplaces of pagandom.  In this respect at least, paintings like those of the Hall of Psyche (1532) are historical landmarks.  It is the first time that an appeal is made to the senses with all the brutal frankness of a modern work”. 

Damning with faint praise perhaps.  Grudgingly, the editors did concede that despite being “…distinguished by such characteristics and marked by such defects, Romano occupies nevertheless an important place in the history of art. More than any other, he aided in propagating the pseudo-classical, half-pagan style of art so fashionable during the seventeenth century. It’s mainly through his influence that after the year 1600 we find so few religious painters in Europe”.

One could hardly expect The Catholic Encyclopedia (sub-titled An International work of reference on the constitution, doctrine, discipline and history of the Catholic Church), to find much worthy in a mannerist (or perhaps anything modern).  Mannerism, novel in some ways as it was, was rarely original in form or content.  It was a reaction against the perceived perfection of the neo-classicism of the High Renaissance and artists from Romano on were drawn to Greek mythology, characters like Psyche and Echo able simply and unambiguously to represent the psychological problems muddied by Christian theology.