Harbinger

Harbinger (pronounced hahr-bin-jer)

(1)  A person who goes ahead and makes known the approach of another; a herald (obsolete).

(2) An inn-keeper (obsolete)

(3) A person sent in advance of troops, a royal train, etc to provide or secure lodgings and other accommodations (obsolete).

(4) Anything that foreshadows a future event; omen; sign.

1125–1175: From the late Middle English herbenger, a nasalized variant of the Middle English herbegere, a dissimilated variant of Old French herberg(i)ere (host; lodging), the more common variant of which was herberg(ier) (to shelter).  In English, the late fifteenth century meaning and spelling was herbengar (one sent ahead to arrange lodgings (for a monarch, an army etc)), an alteration of the late twelfth century Middle English herberger (provider of shelter, innkeeper), from the Old French herbergeor (one who offers lodging, innkeeper) from herbergier (provide lodging), from herber (lodging, shelter), from the Frankish heriberga (lodging, inn (literally “army shelter”))from the Germanic compound harja-bergaz (shelter, lodgings), related was the Old Saxon and Old High German heriberga (army shelter) from heri (army) + berga (shelter) which is the root also of the modern harbor.  Origin of the Frankish heriberga was the Proto-Germanic harjaz (army) + bergô (protection).  Related were the German herberge, the Italian albergo, and the Dutch herberg.  The sense of "forerunner; that which precedes and gives notice of the coming of another" developed in the mid-sixteenth century while the intrusive (and wholly unetymological) -n- is from the fifteenth century.  Use as a verb began in the 1640s; to harbinge (to lodge) was first noted in the late fifteenth century.

Harbinger of Autumn (1922) by Paul Klee (1879-1940), watercolor and pencil on paper bordered with watercolor and pen, mounted on card, Yale University Art Gallery.

Death and Destruction

The original, late medieval, meaning of harbinger was “lodging-house keeper”, one who harbors people for the night, the word derived from harbourer or, as it was then spelled herberer or herberger.  Herberer derives from the French word for inn (auberge) and “Ye herbergers…” are referred to as the hotel managers of their day in the Old English text The Lambeth Homilies, circa 1175.  By the thirteenth century, harbinger had shifted meaning, referring now to a scout who went ahead of a military formation or royal court to book lodgings and meals for the oncoming horde.  This is the source of the modern meaning of “an advance messenger” that we understand now, Geoffrey Chaucer (circa 1344-1400) apparently the first to adopt the form in The Man of Law's Tale (circa 1386):

The fame anon thurgh toun is born

How Alla kyng shal comen on pilgrymage,

By herbergeours that wenten hym biforn

A modern translation of which is:

The news through all the town was carried,

How King Alla would come on pilgrimage,

By harbingers that went before him

In Modern English, harbinger exists only in a metaphorical sense meaning forerunner or announcer.  In the narrow technical sense, almost anything can be harbingered; a warm day in late winter can be a harbinger of spring but popular use, in this gloomy age, is now almost exclusively of harbingers of pain, suffering, doom, death and destruction.

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings

Were bearing me - a Ganymede -

Away from earth; distress was growing

Like wings - to spread, to hold, to lead.

 

I grew. The veil of woven sunsets

At dusk would cling to me and swell.

With wine in glasses we would gather

To celebrate a sad farewell,

 

And yet the eagle's clasp already

Refreshes forearms' heated strain.

The days have gone, when, love, you floated

Above me, harbinger of pain.

 

Do we not share the sky, the flying?

Now, like a swan, his death-song done,

Rejoice! In triumph, with the eagle

Shoulder to shoulder, we are one.

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings… by Boris Pasternak (1890-1960).

The phrase “a crypto-fascist...harbinger of Doom” isn’t a quote from one of Gore Vidal’s (1925–2012) many thoughts on William F Buckley (1925–2008) but comes from a review by Rachel Handler (a senior editor at Vulture and New York) of Lindsay Lohan’s Netflix film Irish Wish (2024).  While it’s not unknown for reviewers to take movies seriously, it’s unlikely many rom-coms have ever been thought to demand deconstruction to reveal they’re part of a “…larger sociopolitical plot to maintain the status quo, quell dissent, replace much of the workforce with AI, install a permanent Christian theocratic dictator, and make Ireland look weird for some reason.”

The piece is an imposing 3½ thousand-odd words and should be read by students of language because, of its type, it’s an outstanding example but for those who consume rom-coms without a background in critical theory it may be wise first to watch the film because the review includes the plot-line.  If having watched and (sort of) enjoyed the film, one should then read the review and hopefully begin faintly to understand why one was wrong.  Ms Handler really didn’t like the thing and having already damned Ms Lohan’s first Netfix production (Falling for Christmas (2022)) as “a Dante’s Inferno-esque allegory”, she’s unlikely much to be looking forward to the promised third.  All should however hope she writes a review.

Aberrant & Aberration

Aberrant (pronounced uh-ber-uhnt or ab-er-uhnt)

(1) Departing from the normal or usual course.

(2) In zoology & botany, deviating from the ordinary, natural type; an exceptional or abnormal example (which can be applied to an individual specimen or an entire species, in the case of the latter the aberrant point producing a new normative type).

(3) As a moral judgement, straying from the right way; deviating from morality or truth.

1560-1610: From the Latin aberrant (stem of aberrāns), present participle of aberrāre (to deviate), present active participle of aberrō (go astray; err), the construct being ab- (from) + errō (to wander).  The word was rare prior to the mid-nineteenth century when it became widely used in botany and zoology to describe any example deviating from the ordinary or natural type in the sense of producing something exceptional or abnormal and the seminal text in this context is of course Charles Darwin’s (1809-1882) On the Origin of Species (1859) although he and others had previously published work in this vein: “The more aberrant any form is, the greater must have been the number of connecting forms which, on my theory, have been exterminated.”  Despite the origins of the construct in Latin seeming to suggest something associated with “error”, and that does appear to have been the flavor of the original sixteenth century sense, it was always possible for the word to be used as a neutral descriptor (something differing from the norm).  Certainly, in zoology & botany, something aberrant was merely something different and of necessity there was no notion of good or bad although that certainly could be ascribed.

It was by the mid-eighteenth century that the notion of the “aberrant” became so associated with “aberrant sexual conduct” (especially homosexuality), lending the word a loading which it carries to this day and as an expression of disapprobation based on moral or religious constructs, the synonym most often appropriate in this is “deviant” (from that defined as normative) and it’s often used in conjunction with “abhorrent” or “abomination” which carries some Old Testament baggage.  Essentially, when borrowed by the moralists from the scientists, it came to mean “deviating from morality or truth”, that somewhat removed from a shrub known for its red flowers beginning to yield purple.  In some uses it is definitely neutral such as astronomy where it describes behaviour which is novel, unexpected or unique.  The synonyms (and these vary in utility according to context) historically included strange, abnormal, atypical exceptional, bizarre, different, odd, unusual, and later devious, errant, immoral, psycho, weird, deviant, flaky, mental, peculiar & queer (in senses both ancient & modern).  Aberrant is a noun & adjective, aberrance & aberrancy are adjectives and aberrantly is an adverb; the noun plural is aberrant.

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

Aberration (pronounced ab-uh-rey-shun)

(1) The act of departing from the right, normal, or usual course.

(2) The act of deviating from the ordinary, usual, or normal type.

(3) Mental irregularity or disorder, especially of a minor or temporary nature; lapse from a sound mental state.  Most often associated in the literature with wandering; deviation and divergence.

(4) In astronomy, the apparent displacement of a celestial body due to the (5) finite speed of light and the motion of the observer with the earth.

(6) In optics, any disturbance of the rays of a pencil of light such that they can no longer be brought to sharp focus or form clear images.

(7) In photography, a defect in a camera lens or lens system, due to flaws in design, material, or construction, that can distort the image.  These are usually classified into spherical and chromatic aberrations.

1585-1595; From Late Latin aberrātiōn (stem of aberrātiō) from the Classical Latin aberrationem (nominative aberratio) and equivalent to aberrātus, noun of action from past-participle stem of aberrāre.  The meaning in Latin appears never to have shifted from a literal “wandering or straying or losing one’s way”, no figurative flourishes ever found in surviving texts.  The modern meaning in English (deviation from normative types) was in use by at least 1846.  Aberration is a noun; the verb aberrate is rare to the point of being almost unused.  Aberration & aberrationality are nouns, aberrate & aberrating are verbs, aberrational is an adjective, aberrated is an adjective & verb and aberrationally is an adverb; the noun plural is aberrations.  Except in scientific use, the verbs aberrate & aberrating are rare while abberated remains in occasional use

Until the release Broken English (1979), Marianne Faithfull’s discography had been a predictable pastiche of any number of “girl” singers of the 1960s, the music rarely original, usually melodic and pleasing but never with an arrangement which could suggest her voice could be called “interpretative”.  Faithless (1978, a repackaged re-release of Dreamin' My Dreams (1976)) was representative of her output, being inoffensive and unmemorable but Broken English was so startlingly different that some reviewers assumed it was a kind of aberration.  Subsequent material however confirmed there had been a change of direction, her troubled years resulting in a voice which was described usually as “gin soaked” and the repertoire selected to suit.  Thought aberrant at the time, Broken English proved no aberration. 

Sir Billy Snedden (1926–1987) who, at 61, breathed his last in a Travelodge at Sydney's Rushcutters Bay, in the company of a somewhat younger woman who was his son’s ex-girlfriend, an event recorded on what was perhaps the Melbourne Truth's most memorable front page.  Remarkably, despite decades of speculation, her identity has never publicly been confirmed but it's thought Sir Billy's last liaison was something habitual rather than a temporary aberration.

Politicians like the word aberration because it’s an abstract way of suggesting something “really didn’t happen” and if it did it was someone else’s fault.  When the Labor Party won the 1972 Australian general election after having spent 23 years in opposition, one of the head-kickers from the ousted Liberal Party suggested it was “a temporary aberration” and once this unfortunate filing error was fixed, things would get back to normal.  That theory needed some nuancing when the Liberals, although making some gains, failed to win the next election in 1974, the revised opinion now it was “a temporary aberration by the voters in Sydney & Melbourne”.  That comment attracted some wry comment about “politicians in denial” but the Liberals seemed to have a point when, in 1975, the two big cities also realised their mistake, the Labor administration swept from office in a landslide, an election in which, uniquely, every seat swung against the government.  There were special circumstances surrounding the 1975 election, just as there had been an unusual conjunction of electoral conditions between 1949-1972 when Labor endured their long stint in opposition.  However, the comment which attracted the most derision in the second “aberration” election was that of the Liberal leader Sir Billy Snedden who, after pondering the results, announced: “We didn’t lose the election; we just didn’t get enough seats to win”.  There was much laughter at that but actually, up to a point, Snedden had a point because there have been a number of elections where the losers gained more votes that the winners including the UK in 1951, Australia in 1961 and of course, Crooked Hillary Clinton in 2016.

Stationary & Stationery

Stationery (pronounced stey-shuh-ner-ee)

(1) Writing paper.

(2) Writing materials, as pens, pencils, paper, and envelopes.

(3) Any office related hardware (staplers, pencil sharpeners et al) or consumables (staples etc), a use technically incorrect by historic standards but widely used and understood in commerce. 

1727: From the Medieval Latin statiōnārius (station), used to describe a bookseller who had a fixed station (especially at universities) as distinct from the then more prevalent form of commerce which was peripatetic.  The construct of stationery was not station + ery but stationer (one who sell paper, pens, books etc from a fixed location) + -y.  Stationery is a noun & adjective & stationer is a noun; the noun plural is stationeries but stationers is more commonly used.

Reader's Digest Kids Letter Writer Book & Stationary Set, one of Lindsay Lohan’s early (in 1994, then aged seven) modelling jobs.    The original form (circa 1675) was "stationery wares", describing the books, pens, ink and such sold by a "stationer" who was someone with "a station" (as opposed to the them common itinerant vendor)) and, over time, popular usage saw stationery gain and retain its modern association.  So there's a reason why two words with slightly different spellings share the same pronunciation yet have meanings which at first glance appear to be unrelated.  Such linguistic quirks are not unique to English but the language does seem to have many which, even when explained, must seen strange to those learning the tongue.

The suffixes –ary, -ery and –y

The suffix –ary was a back-formation from unary and similar, from the Latin adjective suffixes -aris and –arius.  It created the adjectival sense “of or pertaining to” when applied to various words, often nouns, and was used most frequently with words of Latin origin but it’s long been more broadly applied.  In mathematics, it’s used to refer to results having the specified -arity (the maximum number of child nodes that any node in a given tree (data structure) may have).-ate

The suffix -ery was from the Middle English -erie, from the Anglo-Norman and Old French -erie, which is inherited from the Latin -arius and Latin –ator (a suffix forming abstract nouns).  The suffix first appeared  in loan words from the Old French into Middle English, but became productive within English by the sixteenth century, in some instances properly a combination of -er with -y as in stationery, bakery & brewery, but also as a single suffix in words like slavery & machinery.  Added to nouns, it could form other nouns meaning "art, craft, or practice of"; added to verbs it could form nouns meaning "place of an art, craft, or practice”; added to nouns it could form other nouns meaning "a class, group, or collection of"; added to nouns it could form other nouns meaning "behaviour characteristic of."

The suffix -y was from the Middle English –y & -i, from the Old English -iġ (the –y & -ic suffixes), from the Proto-Germanic -īgaz (-y, -ic), from the primitive Indo-European -kos, -ikos, & -iḱos (-y, -ic).  It was cognate with the Scots -ie (-y), the West Frisian -ich (-y), the Dutch -ig (-y), the Low German -ig (-y), the German -ig (-y), the Swedish -ig (-y), the Latin -icus (-y, -ic) and the Ancient Greek -ικός (-ikós); doublet of -ic.  It was added to nouns and adjectives to form adjectives meaning “having the quality of” and to verbs to form adjectives meaning "inclined to”; “tending towards".  The suffix remains productive in English and can be added to just about any word.  If the result is something perceived not to be a real word, a hyphen should be used to indicate it’s a deliberate attempt to convey a meaning rather than a spelling mistake.  A few long-established words ending with this suffix have distinctive spellings, such as wintry and fiery, which are often misspelled as wintery and firey although these mistakes are now so frequent that they’re likely to gain acceptance and there are special cases: "firey" is now widely used in slang as a noun to describe fire fighters.

Stationary (pronounced stey-shuh-ner-ee)

(1) Standing still; not moving.

(2) Having a fixed position; not movable.

(3) Established in one place; not itinerant or migratory.

(4) Remaining in the same condition or state; not changing.

1400–1450: From the late Middle English from the Latin word statiōnārius (surface analysis station) from statiō (a standing, post, job, position) ultimately from stō (to stand). Stō was a word-forming element used in making names of devices for stabilizing or regulating (eg thermostat), from the Ancient Greek statos (standing, stationary) from the primitive Indo-European ste-to-, a suffixed form of root sta- (to stand, make or be firm)  It was first used in heliostat (an instrument for causing the sun to appear stationary (1742)).  The late fourteenth century sense of "having no apparent motion" was in reference to planets and was derived from the Middle French stationnaire (motionless) also from the Latin statiōnārius; the meaning "unmovable" is from 1620s.  Not unusually, the meanings in later English and European languages evolved beyond the original; in Classical Latin, statiōnārius is recorded only in the sense "of a military station, the word for "stationary, steady" being statarius.  Stationary is a noun & adjective, stationariness is a noun and stationarily is an adverb; the noun plural is stationaries.  The most common appearance of stationary as a noun is probably as a misspelling stationary but it can be use (1) as a clipping of the description of a static version of something (stationary engine et al) or (2) of any person or object which is not moving (usually in the context of a contrast with surrounding people or objects which are moving) and (3) in historic astronomy, a planet or other heavenly body which apparently has neither progressive nor retrograde motion (now obsolete).  In the aerospace community, it may be that "geostationary" (of satellites) are sometimes casually referred to as "stationaries") but it seems not documented.

Stationary Engines

Engineers insist a “stationary engine” is one bolted or cemented in place, to remain there until (1) it blows up, (2) it’s scrapped or (3) it’s uprooted and moved to a new location where it can again function.  Stationary engines provided much of the horsepower (a calculation devised to define engine power) for the first industrial revolution in the eighteenth century, used to drive anything from generators & pumps to cranks moving parts of machines.  The classic example were the big reciprocating devices (steam or internal combustion) whereas the large scale electric plants or turbines tended (once reaching a certain size) to be classified as “plant”.  The development of the infrastructure to distribute electricity from regional hubs meant the used of stationary engines declined but they remain widely used and are a common sight in rural areas where they both pump water from a variety of sources and distribute it to irrigation systems.  There are also engines which technically are portable (some small enough to be carried by hand while others are mounted on trailers, trucks or even boats) but which often function as stationary devices and engineers regards such things always as “portable”, even if stationary for years.

A Chrysler Air Raid Siren being delivered (1953, left) and permanently installed (1960, right), atop the Rob Storms Rochester Fire Department maintenance building, Rochester, Monroe County, New York.  This was a stationary engine even while on the truck which it remained after being taken up to the roof and bolted down.  Had it remained on the truck (even if bolted to the chassis) and been driven from place to be run, it would have been classified a “portable engine”.

According to Guinness World Records, the loudest sirens ever were the 350-odd built by Chrysler for the US government in the early 1950s and installed around the country to warn of an impending nuclear attack by the Soviet Union.  The maximum volume the devices generated was recorded (at a distance of 100 feet (30.5 m)) as 138 decibels (dB), a level which meant a human would be deafened if within 200 feet (61 m) during their operation.  Guinness noted the compressor discharge throughput at peak volume was 74 m³ (2,610 cubic feet at 7 lb per square inch) of air per second and the physics of fluid dynamics (air a fluid in this context) was such that this would have caused a sheet of paper in the path spontaneously to ignite.  By comparison the now retired supersonic airline Concorde at take-off produced noise levels between 112-114 dB at a distance of 100 feet and even the after-burner equipped military jets (F-16, F-35 et al) haven’t been recorded as generating levels as high as 138 dB.  Although there were ebbs in the tensions, the “High Cold War” is regarded as the time between the early 1950s and mid 1960s, the public perception of which was dominated by the fear of nuclear war. The US government made many preparations for such an event, notably building vast underground facilities where essential personnel (members of the administration, the Congress and their families and servants) could live until it was safe to emerge into the post- apocalypse world).  The tax-payers who paid for these facilities were of course rather less protected but the government in 1952 did install warning sirens in cities; people might still be vaporized by comrade Stalin’s (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) H-Bombs but they would know it was coming so there was that.

The early version was co-developed by Chrysler and Bell Labs and named the Chrysler Bell Victory Siren which sounds optimistic but although the acoustic properties met the specification, the drawback was the devices were manually controlled and required someone physically to be there to start the thing and, being directional, rotate it so the sound would be broadcast 360^o.  The obvious flaw was that were there to be a nuclear attack in the area, the job-description was self-sacrificial, something comrade Stalin would doubtless have thought just the part of the cost of war with the unfortunate soul posthumously to be awarded the coveted Герой Советского Союза (Hero of the Soviet Union) decoration.  However, neither the White House or the Pentagon liked the optics of that and revised specifications were issued.  Chrysler responded with a more elaborate device which was automated and remotely administrated, the Chrysler Air Raid Siren introduced in 1952.  It was powered by the corporation’s new 331 cubic inch (5.4 litre) Hemi-head V8, rated at what was then a stellar 180 HP (134 kW), a three-stage compressor added to increase output.  Instead of demanding a potentially doomed operator, there was a control panel connected (with nothing more than the two-pair copper cables which became familiar as Cat3) to dedicated phone lines so it could be activated either by local civil defense authorities or the military.  The big V8 provided sufficient power to both increase the dB and the geographical coverage, the siren able to be heard over an area of some 15.8 square miles (41 km³), an impressive number given the electric sirens used today for tornado and tsunami warnings have an effective footprint of only some 3.9 square miles (10 km³).

Chrysler FirePower 392 cubic inch V8 in 1957 Chrysler 300C Convertible.

In 1952, there was no engine better suited to the task than Chrysler’s new “FirePower” V8.  Applying their wartime experience building a number of high-output, multi-cylinder engines (the most remarkable a V16 aero-engine rendered obsolete by jet technology before it could be used), the FirePower featured hemispherical combustion chambers and was the corporation’s first use of overhead-valves.  Both designs had been around for decades but in time, Chrysler would make a (trade-marked) fetish of “Hemi”, continuing cheerfully to use the name for a range of V8s introduced in 2003 even though they were no longer a true hemi-head, the design unable to be adapted to meet modern exhaust emission laws.  The so-called “third generation” Hemi remains available still although how long it will last will be a matter of the interplay of politics and demand.  Doubtless, it was Greta Thunberg’s (b 2003) hit-list and that she and the engine debuted in the same year would have impressed her not at all.  

Apothaneintheloish

Apothaneintheloish (pronounced uh-poth-un-inn-th-loe-ish)

An expression of a wish to die.

1968: The construct was apo + thanein + thelo + ish.  The Ancient Greek prefix ἀπό- (apó-) was from the preposition ἀπό (apó) (from, away from), from the primitive Indo-European hepo (off, away), the ultimate source also of the English words "off" & "of" and of (ab- came via Latin).  The English –ish was appended to create the adjectival form.  The -ish suffix was from the Middle English -ish & -isch, from the Old English -isċ (-ish (the suffix)), from the Proto-West Germanic -isk, from the Proto-Germanic -iskaz (-ish), from the primitive Indo-European -iskos.  It was cognate with the Dutch -s, the German -isch (from which Dutch would gain -isch), the Norwegian, Danish & Swedish -isk or -sk, the Lithuanian -iškas, the Russian -ский (-skij) and the Ancient Greek diminutive suffix -ίσκος (-ískos).  It was used to create adjectives (standard and (in the modern era) increasingly non-standard, even in slang as the stand-alone "ish" indicating “sort of”, “kind of”, “tending towards” etc).  In colloquial use it became a popular way to create both adjectives & nouns with a diminutive or derogatory implication.  The word was coined by the author Anthony Burgess (1917–1993).  Apothaneintheloish is an adjective.

A black-figure pottery vase (circa 500 BC) showing Thanatos (Death) and Hypnos (Sleep) carrying the dead body of the hero Sarpedon; discovered in Attica, Greece and now on display in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

In Greek mythology, Thantos was the god of death and the significance of Burgess's choice was that Thantos was associated specifically with a “graceful, peaceful departure from life”.  So, a vision of Thantos was a tap on the shoulder, a notice to quit the world and something known in English as "the visitation of the Angel of Death" and, except for those few wishing to go out in a “blaze of glory”, as one's death goes, a visit from Thantos was about as good as it got.   Thantos appears sometimes in commentaries by Freudians & neo-Freudians but Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) never used the word.  He used Todestrieb (death drive), the construct being Tod (death) +‎ -es- (in German a genitival interfix used to link elements in certain compounds) +‎ Trieb (sprout (but in the technical jargon of psychoanalysis specifically “drive” (in the sense of “desire, urge, impulse”)).  Freud in his famous Jenseits des Lustprinzips (Beyond the Pleasure Principle (1920)) borrowed the word (which he used more often in the plural (Todestriebe) (death drives) from Russian psychiatrist Sabina Spielrein (1885-1942 and a student and lover of Carl Jung (1875–1961)) who in 1912 had published the essay Die Destruktion als Ursache des Werdens (Destruction as the Cause of Coming Into Being).  The relationship between Freud & Spielrein was both convivial and entirely professional.  Thanatos came into popular use in psychoanalysis after it appeared in a paper by Austrian-American psychologist Paul Federn (1871–1950 and, like Freud, trained in Vienna).  Federn used Thanatos as a dichotomous contrast with eros (from the Ancient Greek ἔρως (érōs) (love, desire”) which in psychiatry) is used to describe the human “life drive” (the collective instincts for self-preservation).  In the profession it's used also of the libido and it's not only among the Freudians the link between the two uses is thought so fundamental.

The Greek phrase Apothanein thelo (I want to die) concludes the epigraph of TS Eliot’s (1888–1965) The Waste Land: “Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidiin ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: Σίβνλλα τί ϴέλεις; respondebat illa: άπο ϴανεΐν ϴέλω.”  The text was from the satirical novel Satyricon, presumed written by the Roman courtier Petronius (Gaius Petronius Arbiter, circa 27–66), Eliot’s translation being: “I saw with my own eyes the Sibyl at Cumae hanging in a cage, and when the boys said to her: ‘Sibyl, what do you want?’ she answered: ‘I want to die.’”

Apollo and the Cumaean Sibyl (circa 1670), oil on canvas by Giovanni Domenico Cerrini, (1609-1681).  Sibyl is holding a handful of dust.

The Satyricon was a collection of tales, the misadventures of Trimalchio, a one-time gladiator in the Roman Empire of the first century AD and the passage is one of the few fragments of the text still extant.  Sibyl of Cumae was one of the great beauties of the age and Apollo, wanting her for his own, offered to grant her any wish.  Without a moment’s thought she asked to “live for as many years as there were grains in a handful of dust.”  Apollo granted her wish, but she anyway refused his affections and she came to regret things, over the centuries growing older and more decrepit but unable to die.  What she had wanted was an eternal youth but instead decayed into a figure tiny, frail and confined to her bed.  When Trimalchio speaks of her in the Satyricon, he describes her as a tourist attraction, a withered, ancient relic, longing to die.  As recounted by the Roman Poet Ovid (Publius Ovidius Naso; 43 BC–17 AD) in his Metamorphoses, Sibyl lived a thousand years and as she shrunk and shrivelled, eventually she was kept in an ampulla (jar); in her final years, only the faint echo of her voice remained.  She might have said, as the 99 year old Archbishop Daniel Mannix (1864–1963; Archbishop of Melbourne 1917-1963) grew fond of saying: “I have lived too long, but that is not my fault”.  That would have been half correct but, given Sibyl’s calling of prophesy, she had only herself to blame.

Apothaneintheloish appeared first in 1968 in an essay written by Anthony Burgess and published in The Listener:

“Waking crapulous and apothaneintheloish, as I do most mornings these days, I find a little loud British gramophone music over the bloody mary helps me adjust to the daily damnation of writing.”  It can be translated as: “Suffering from taking too much strong drink and feeling I want to die.”

Burgess had an extraordinary knowledge of words so probably felt entitled to kick language around a bit and it’s likely he’d not much have been concerned at any pedant drawing a red circle around the appended –ish, content the linguistic sin of mixing an English suffix into a otherwise Greek formation was minor compared with the world gaining a new adjective.  Such was the skill of Burgess that in his writing the rare and unusual words slurred effortlessly into the text, avoiding the tiresome, jarring effect achieved by some who seem intent to flaunt what Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his austere A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) called the “pride of knowledge”; Henry Fowler knew sin when he saw it on the page.  Others can do it too: the historian Piers Brendon (1940) made the discovery of novel forms a pleasure and when reading Umberto Eco’s (1932–2016) Il pendolo di Foucault (Foucault's Pendulum (1988)), some can’t resist keeping pencil & paper at hand, just to note down the most memorable.

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

Burgess though probably made the trick most fun and without Burgess, would it have become known even slightly that vaccine can be an adjective?  It means “cow-like” so is a word for those who find bovine too repetitive or a bit common.  He also included gems like myrmidon (a faithful follower of someone or some institution who follows orders without demur), oneiric (of, suggestive of or pertaining to dreams), proleptic (the act of anticipation) and exiguity which should baffle most used to anything similar; it means “a tiny quantity” and was from the Latin exiguus (scanty), the antonym for which was the Pythonesque sounding adaequatus, the perfect passive participle of adaequō, the construct being ad- (near, at; towards, to) +‎ aequō (make equal, level or smooth).

Apothaneintheloish will of late have gained a new audience with the publication in January 2024 of The Devil Prefers Mozart, On Music and Musicians, 1962-1993, a compilation (Carcanet Press, edited by PaulPhillips (b 1956), an associate professor at Stanford University)) of Burgess’s (mostly) previously published pieces on the topic of music (something he grants and unexpectedly wide vista).  Although now remembered mostly as a novelist and literary critic, his attachment to music was life-long, reflected in the breadth of the 75 chapters of essays, reviews and letters plus the odd interview & transcription.  The book is divided into five parts (1) Musical Musings which ranges from thoughts on Shakespeare to the Beatlemania of the 1960s and the punk movement a decade later, (2) Composers and Their Music which is a list hardly less eclectic, including Monteverdi, Mozart, Wagner & Kurt Weill, (3) Burgess and His Music, a more personal assortment of material including some intriguing liner notes, (4) Performers and Performances which includes some interesting reflections on the less obvious aspects of affording a primacy to “the singer rather than the song” and (5) Of Opera, the West’s supreme art form.  Of particular interest to some will the focus on some of the now less than fashionable British composers, notably William Walton (1902–1983) and Edward Elgar (1857–1934).

Gerti Deutsch's (1908–1979) photograph of Hans Keller (1919-1855), London, 1961.  Keller was a noted Freudian and would these days be thought a suspected postmodernist.

It’s really not even necessary to have any great interest in music to be amused by this book because probably without the reader realizing it, what is so often being explored is the interplay between words and music, Burgess understanding “everything is text” even before the postmodernists made a cult of it.  It’s worth reading also for the waspish comments about the Austrian-born music journalist Hans Keller, best understood after listening to the composition Homage to Hans Keller (1982), written by Burgess in reaction to Keller’s review of his opera Blooms of Dublin (1982) based on James Joyce’s (1882–1941) Ulysses (1922).  Scored for four tubas (which should be a hint), the “homage” was very much in the spirit of Metal Machine Music which in 1975 Lou Reed (1942–2013) handed to his record company.  In that vein, an irony of his fame was that he became best known as the author of the novel A Clockwork Orange (1962) and that happened because of the notoriety achieved by the film version (1971), directed by Stanley Kubrick (1928–1999).

Cover of a first edition A Clockwork Orange (1962), signed by the author, (Aus$18,975.08 on eBay (left)) and a promotional poster for the film version (1971, right).  The film was based on the abridged US edition of the book which omitted the final chapter in which the protagonist undergoes something of a redemption.  That does change the moral effect but some critics thought the distinction slight, the film just too gratuitous in its depiction of sexual violence for the original's anyway ambiguous conclusion to be rendered much different. 

In Flame into Being (1985), his biography of DH Lawrence (1885–1930), Burgess would write: “The book I am best known for, or only known for, is a novel I am prepared to repudiate: written a quarter of a century ago, a jeu d’esprit (literally “game of the spirit” and used here to suggest something intended as a quick comment on an idea rather than anything substantial) knocked off for money in three weeks, it became known as the raw material for a film which seemed to glorify sex and violence. The film made it easy for readers of the book to misunderstand what it was about, and the misunderstanding will pursue me till I die. I should not have written the book because of this danger of misinterpretation, and the same may be said of Lawrence and Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1928).”  Scholars cataloguing his papers later found A Clockwork Orange was some two years in the making but that he didn’t deign even to mention the book by name was an indication of something and many suspect he’d have been not unhappy if remembered for the book and not the film which gained him a new audience, if not exactly the one he’d have preferred.  However, for those who like words, The Devil Prefers Mozart, On Music and Musicians contains enough expected Burgessian gems and like apothaneintheloish, there aren’t many other places to find multiguous, parthenogenetical, theodician, apodemoniosis, stichomythia or quinquennium.

Gore

Gore (pronounced gawr or gohr)

(1) Blood when shed, especially in volume or when coagulated.

(2) Murder, bloodshed, violence etc, often in the context of visual depictions (film, television etc) and frequently an element in the “pornography of violence”.

(3) Dirt; mud; filth (obsolete except in some regional dialects and obviously something of which to be aware when reading historic texts).

(4) In cartography, the curved surface that lies between two close lines of longitude on a globe (or the as represented in the segmented two-dimensional depiction in certain maps or charts.

(5) In nautical design, a triangular piece of material inserted in a sail to produce a greater surface areas or a desired shape.

(6) In apparel, one of the panels, usually tapering or triangular in shape, making up a garment (most often used with skirts) or for other purposes such as umbrellas, hot-air balloons etc.

(7) In a bra (sometimes (tautologically) as “centre gore”), the panel connecting the cups and houses centre ends of the underwires (if fitted).

(8) On cobbling, an elastic gusset for providing a snug fit in a shoe.

(9) A triangular tract of land, especially one lying between larger divisions; in the jargon of surveying, a small patch of land left unincorporated due to unresolved competing surveys or a surveying error (also know in the US as “neutral area” and in the UK as “ghost island”).

(10) In road-traffic management, a designated “no-go” area at a point where roads intersect.

(11) In heraldry, a charge delineated by two inwardly curved lines, meeting in the fess point and considered an abatement.

(12) To create, mark or cut (something) in a triangular shape.

(13) Of an animal, such as a bull, to pierce or stab (a person or another animal) with a horn or tusk.

(14) To pierce something or someone (with a spear or similar weapon), as if with a horn or tusk.

(15) To make or furnish with a gore or gores; to add a gore.

Pre 900: From the Middle English gorre & gore (filth, moral filth), from the Old English gor (dung, bull dung, filth, dirt), from the Proto-Germanic gurą (half-digested stomach contents; faeces; manure) and the ultimate source may have been the primitive Indo-European gher- (hot; warm).  It was cognate with the Dutch goor, the Old High German gor (filth), the Middle Low German göre and the Old Norse gor (cud; half-digested food).  The idea of gore being “clotted blood” dates from the 1560s and was applied especially on battlefields; the term gore-blood documents since the 1550s.

The noun gore in the sense “patch of land or cloth of triangular shape” dates also from before 900 and was from the Middle English gor, gore, gar & gare (triangular piece of land, triangular piece of cloth), from the Old English gāra (triangular piece of land, corner, point of land, cape, promontory) the ultimate source thought to be the Proto-Germanic gaizon- or gaizô.   It was cognate with the German Gehre (gusset) and akin to the Old English gār (spear).  The seemingly strange relationship between spears, pieces of fabric and patches of land is explained by the common sense of triangularity, the allusion being to the word gore used in the sense of “a projecting point”, the tip of a spear visualized as the acute angle at which two sides of a triangle meet.  From this developed in the mid-thirteenth century the use to describe the panel used the front of a skirt, extended by the early 1300s just about any “triangular piece of fabric”.

Al Gore (b 1948; US vice president 1993-2001) with crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013).  Al Gore used to be “the next President of the United States” and when this photo was taken at Miami Dade College, Florida during October 2016, crooked Hillary was also TNPOTUS.  They have much in common.

Gore entered the jargon of surveying in the 1640s, adopted in the New England region of the American colonies to describe “a strip of land left out of any property by an error when tracts are surveyed”.  Such errors and disputes were not uncommon (there and elsewhere), the most famous resolved by the Mason-Dixon Line, the official demarcation defining the boarders of what would become the US states of Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, and West Virginia (which was until 1863 attached to Virginia).  The line was determined by a survey undertaken between 1763-1767 by two English astronomers Charles Mason (1728–1786) & Jeremiah Dixon (1733–1779), commissioned because the original land grants issued by Charles I (1600–1649; King of England, Scotland & Ireland 1625-1649) and Charles II (1630–1685; King of Scotland 1649-1651, King of Scotland, England and Ireland 1660-1685) were contradictory, something not untypical given the often outdated and sometimes dubious maps then in use.  Later, "Mason-Dixon Line" would enter the popular imagination as the border between "the North" and "the South" (and thus "free" & "slave" states) because the line, west of Delaware, marked the northern limit of slavery in the United States.  Even though the later abolition of slavery in some areas rendered the line less of a strict delineation for this purpose, both phrase and implied meaning endured.

Arizona Department of Transport’s conceptual illustration of a gore used in traffic management.  The gore area is (almost always at least vaguely triangular) space at a point where roads in some way intersect and depending on the environment and available space, a gore may be simply a designated space (often painted with identifying lines of various colors) or a raised structure, sometime large and grassed.  The purpose of a gore is to ensue (1) the visibility of drivers is not restricted by other vehicles (most important with merging traffic) and (2) vehicle flow is in a safe direction and for this reason gores are designated “no go” areas through which vehicles should neither pass nor stop; something often enforced by statute.

The verb (in the sense of “to pierce, to stab”) emerged in the late fourteenth century (although use seems to have been spasmodic until the sixteenth) and was from the Middle English gorren & goren (to pierce, stab) which was derived from gōre (spear, javelin, dart), from the Old English gār (spear, shaft, arrow).  The adjective gory (covered with clotted blood) dates from the late fifteenth century and developed from the noun and the derived noun goriness is now a favorite measure by which produces in the horror movie genre are judged, some sites offering a “goriness index” or “goriness rating” for those who find such metrics helpful (the noun gorinessness is non-standard but horror movie buffs get the idea).  “To gore” also meant “add a gore (to a skirt, sail etc)” but surprisingly given the profligate ways of English degore or de-gore (removing a gore form a skirt, sail etc) seems never to have evolved.  Gore is a noun & verb, gory is an adjective, gored is a verb & adjective, goriness is a noun and goring is a verb; the noun plural is gores.

Shyaway’s diagram detailing how even mainstream bras can have as many as 16 separate components although more individual parts are used in the construction; some (obviously) at least duplicated.  Who knew?

The gore (sometimes (tautologically) as “centre gore”) fits in the space between breasts, the panel connecting the cups and providing locating points for the centre ends of the underwires (if fitted).  Because there are so many types of design, the height of gore varies greatly, one fitted to a full support bra rising higher than that used by a plunge bra but the general principle is the panel should lie flat between the breasts, aligned with the skin, the gore's purpose as a piece of structural engineering being to provide separation.

HerRoom's deconstruction of the art and science of the gore.

According to HerRoom.com, the significance of the gore sitting firmly against the sternum is it provides an indication of fit.  If a gap appears between skin and gore, that suggests the cups lack sufficient depth and the user should proceed up the alphabet until snugness is achieved.  Where the gap is especially obvious (some fitters recommending a standard HB pencil as a guide while others prefer fingers, the advantage with the pencil being that globally it's a uniform size), it may be necessary to both go up more than one cup letter and decrease the band-size although there are exceptions to the gore-sternum rule and that includes “minimizers” (which achieve their visual trick by a combination of reducing forward protection and redistributing mass laterally) and most “wireless” (or “wire-free”) units (except for the smaller sizes).  The design of the gore also helps in accommodating variations in the human shape; although almost all gores are triangular and the difference in their height is obvious (and as a general principle: the greater the height, the greater the support) a difference in width will make different garments suitable for different body-types.

Gory: Lindsay Lohan was photographed in 2011 & 2013 by Tyler Shields (b 1982) in sessions which involved knives and the depiction of blood.  The shoot attracted some attention and while the technical achievement was noted, it being quite challenging to work with blood (fake or real) and realize something realistic but it was also criticized as adding little to the discussion about the pornography of violence against women.