Croissant

Croissant (pronounced krwah-sahn (French) or kruh-sahnt (barbarians))

A rich, buttery, often crescent-shaped, roll of leavened dough or puff paste.

1899:  From the French croissant (crescent), present participle of the verb croître (to increase, to grow), from the Middle French croistre, from the Old French creistre derived from the Classical Latin crēscēns & crēscentem, present active infinitive of crēscō (I augment), drawn from the Proto-Italic krēskō. The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European ḱreh (to grow, become bigger).  Correct pronunciation here.  

The Austrian Pastry

Like some other cultural artefacts thought quintessentially French (French fries invented in Belgium; Nicolas Sarkozy (b 1955; French president 2007-2012) from here and there; the Citroën DS (1955-1975) styled by an Italian) the croissant came from elsewhere, its origins Austrian, the Viennese kipferl a crescent-shaped sweet made plain, with nuts or other fillings.  It varies from the French classic in being denser and less flaky, made with softer dough.  First noted in the thirteenth century at which time, it was thought a “sweet” it was another three-hundred years before it came to be regarded as a morning pastry.  Tastes changed as new techniques of baking evolved and around the turn of the seventeenth century, recipes began to appear in Le Pâtissier François using Pâte feuilletée (puff pastry), these being the first recognisably modern croissants.

Culinary histories include a number of (likely apocryphal) tales of why the croissant adopted a crescent shape.  One suggests it was baked first in Buda to celebrate the defeat of the Ummayyad (the Umayyad Caliphate (661–750) was the second of the four major caliphates created after the death of the prophet Muhammad (circa 570-632)) forces by the Franks in the Battle of Tours (732), the shape representing the Islamic crescent moon although more famous is the notion it was designed after the battle of 1683 when the Ottomans were turned back from the gates of Vienna.  A baker, said to have heard the Turks tunneling under the walls of the city as he lit his ovens to bake the morning bread, sounded an alarm, and the defending forces collapsed the tunnel, saving the city.   To celebrate, bread was baked in the shape of the crescent moon of the Turkish flag.

Portrait of Marie Antoinette (1769) oil on canvas by Joseph Ducreux (1735-1802).

The official title of the portrait was Archduchess Maria Antonia of Austria and it was created as the era’s equivalent of a Tinder profile picture, the artist summoned in 1769 to Vienna to paint a pleasing rendering of the young lady the Hapsburg royal court planned to marry off to Louis, Dauphin of France (1754-1973) who would reign as Louis XVI (King of France 1774-1792)).  Tinder profile pictures can be misleading (some pounds and even more years sometimes vanishing) so the work must be considered in that context although she was barely fourteen when she sat so it may be true to the subject.  Ducreux’s portrait was the first glimpse the prince had of his intended bride and it must have been pleasing enough for him metaphorically to "swipe right" and the marriage lasted until the pair were executed with the blade of the guillotine.  As a reward, Ducreux was raised to the nobility as a seigneur de la baronnie (lord of the barony, the grade of of baron granted to roturiers (commoners)) and appointed premier peintre de la reine (First Painter to the Queen), outliving the royal couple.

A more romantic tale attributes the pastry to Marie Antoinette (1755–1793; Queen of France 1774-1792), who, as an Austrian, preferred the food of her homeland to that of the French court and, at state dinners, would sneak away to enjoy pastries and coffee.  There is no documentary evidence for her having re-christened the kipferl as the croissant but the story is she so missed what she knew as kipfel (German for crescent) that she commanded the royal baker to clone the treat.  More prosaic, but actually verified by historical evidence, is that August Zang (1807-1888), a retired Austrian artillery officer founded a Viennese Bakery in Paris in 1839 and most food historians agree he is the one most likely to have introduced the kipfel to France, a pastry that later inspired French bakers to create crescents of their own.  The first mention of the croissant in French is in French chemist Anselme Payen’s (1795-1871) Des Substances alimentaires (1853), published long after Marie-Antoinette’s time in court, the first known printed recipe, using the name, appearing in Swiss chef Joseph Favre’s (1849-1903) Dictionnaire universel de cuisine (1905) although even that was a more dense creation than the puffy thing known today.

Breakfast in Paris.

Although the famous shape is much admired, for purists, the choice is always the un-curved croissant au beurre, (butter croissant), the more eye-catching crescents being usually the ordinaires, made with margarine.  The taste in the English-speaking world for things like ham-and-cheese croissants is regarded by the French as proof of Anglo-Saxon barbarism although they will tolerate a sparse drizzle of chocolate if it’s for children and food critics reluctantly concede the almond croissant (with a frangipane filling, topped with slivered almonds and a dusting of powdered sugar) is “…enjoyed by younger women”.  Generally though, the French stick to the classics, eschewing even butter, a croissant being best enjoyed unadorned and taken with a strong black coffee and while some will insist this should be accompanied with a Gitanes, that is optional.

The cube croissant, an Instagram favorite.

Although much focused upon, the shape of a croissant of course becomes less relevant when eaten when the experience becomes one of taste and texture.  For that reason the pastry used has long attracted those chefs for whom food offers architectural possibilities and while for more than a century one-offs have been created for competition and special event, in recent years the phenomenon of social media has been a design stimulant, Instagram, TikTok et al fuelling a culinary arms race and patisseries have built (sometimes short-lived) product lines in response to viral videos.  Fillings have of course been a feature but it’s the shapes which have been most eye-catching (and by extension click-catching which is the point for the content providers). There have been “croissants” in the shape of spheres, discs, pyramids, spirals, wedges and cubes, the last among the more amusing with chefs referencing objects and concepts such as dice, cubist art and, of course, the Rubik’s Cube.  Many have been just a moment while some have for a while trended.

Dominique Ansel's Cronut, stacked and sliced.

Some have endured for longer such as the Cronut (the portmanteau’s construct being cro(issant) + (dough)nut) and so serious was New York based French pastry chef Dominique Ansel (b 1978) that in 2013 he trademarked his creation.  In the familiar shape of a doughnut, the composition was described as “a croissant-like pastry with a filling of flavored cream and fried in grapeseed oil.”  Interviewed by Murdoch tabloid the New York Post, the chef revealed it took “two months of R&D (research & development)” before the Cronut was perfected and the effort was clearly worthwhile because after being released in his eponymous bakery in Manhattan’s SoHo neighbourhood, the city’s food bloggers (a numerous and competitive population) responded and within days photographs circulated of dozens waiting for opening time, a reaction which prompted the application to the US Patent and Trademark Office.  In the way of such things, around the planet “clones”, “tributes”, “knock-offs”, “imitations”, “rip-offs” (the descriptions as varied as the slight changes in the recipes introduced presumably to fend off a C&D (cease and desist letter)) soon appeared.  Predictably, some were called “Doughssants” (the Germanic eszett a nice touch) although others were less derivative.

New York Post, August 16 2022.

Monsieur Ansel in 2015 released Dominique Ansel: The Secret Recipes, a cookbook which included the Cronut recipe and the thing in its authentic form was clearly for the obsessives, the instructions noting making one or a batch was a three-day process.  In its review of the year, Time magazine nominated the Cronut as one of the “best inventions of 2013”, prompting one cultural commentator (another species which proliferates in New York City) to observe the decadence of the West had reached the point the breakdown of society was close.  There may have been something in the idea the new “Visigoths at the Gates of Rome” were actually pastry chefs because in the wake of the Cronut the city was soon flooded with all sorts of novel sugary treats, mostly elaborations of croissants, doughnuts and, it being NYC, bagels.  By 2022 the New York Post was prepared to proclaim: “Move over cronuts! NYC's hot new baked good is the Suprême”, the defenestrator from Noho’s Lafayette Grand Café and revealed to be a “unique circular croissant filled with pastry crème and topped with ganache and crushed up cookies.”  Again of the Instagram & TikTok age, queues were reported even though at a unit cost of US$8.50 it was two dollars more expensive than a Cronut, the price of which had increased fairly modestly since 2013 when it debuted at US$5.00.

All the recent variations on the croissant are built on the theme chefs have for centuries understood is the easy path to popularity: FSS; add fat, salt & sugar, the substances mankind has for millennia sought.  Once it took much effort (and often some risk) to find these things but now they’re conveniently packaged and widely available at prices which, although subject to political and economic forces, remain by historic standards very cheap.  Often, we don’t even need to seek out the packages because so much of the preparation and distribution of food has been outsourced to specialists, mostly industrial concerns but the artisans persist in niches.  That’s certainly true of the croissant, few making their own whether basic or embellished and one of the latest of the croissant crazes is FSS writ large: the crookie.

Miss Sina's crookie (without added topping or powered sugar).

A crookie is a croissant stuffed with chocolate chip cookie dough and its very existence will be thought particularly shameful by some Parisian purists because it was first sold in December 2023 by the Boulangerie Louvard, located on Rue de Châteaudun in Paris’s 9^th arrondissement which, in an Instragram post announced the arrival: “Our pure butter croissant, awarded the seventh best croissant in the Île-de-France region in 2022, is made every morning with a 24-hour fermented milk sourdough and layered with Charente butter.  For our cookie dough, we use one of the best and purest chocolates in the world, from @xoco.gourmet.”  Offered originally in a test batch to test the market, the boulangerie soon announced “The concept was well received, so we're keeping it.  Available every day in-store!”

Unlike a Cronut which (at least in its pure form) demands three days to make, the charm of the crookie is its elegant simplicity and Instagrammers quickly deconstructed and posted the instructions:

(1) With a serrated knife, cut open a croissant lengthwise, leaving a “hinge” at the back.

(2) Add 2-3 tablespoons of your chocolate chip cookie dough (from a packet or home-made).

(3) Close the two sections of croissant wholly encasing the dough.

(4) When the dough is almost cooked (time will vary according to oven and the volume of dough but it takes only a few minutes), remove from oven.

(5) Add more cookie dough to the top of croissant and return to the oven for final bake.

(6) When the outside is crispy and the centre gooey, remove from oven and top with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Some crookie critics don't recommend either adding the second lashing of dough or the powered sugar because they tend to "overwhelm" the croissant and limit the surface area, thereby denying the dish some of the essential crispiness.  

The croissant in fashion

Louis Vuitton Loop (part number M81098).  Created by Nicolas Ghesquière (b 1971) for the Cruise 2022 Collection, the Loop is described as a "half-moon baguette" and was inspired by the earlier Croissant bag, the original a less fussy design.

Lindsay Lohan in T-shirt with croissant theme.

While a handbag lends itself well to the shape of a crescent, it does inherently limit the efficiency of space utilization but this aspect is often not a primary goal in the upper reaches of the market.  With garments however, although actually a common component because the shape makes all sorts of engineering possible such as the underwire of the bra or other constructions where any sort of cantilever effect is demanded, it’s usually just an element rather than a design motif.  As a playful touch, a distinctive crescent moon or croissant might appear on a T-shirt or scarf but it’s rare to see a whole garment pursue the theme although they have appeared on the catwalks where they attract the usual mix of admiration and derision.   

Sarah Jessica Parker in "croissant dress".

Sometimes though, such things escape the catwalk.  In 2022 the actor Sarah Jessica Parker (b 1965) appeared in HBO's And Just Like That, a spin-off (2021-2022) of the Sex and the City TV series (1998-2024), wearing an orange Valentino couture gown from the house’s spring/summer 2019 collection.  It recalled a large croissant, the piece chosen presumably because the scene was set in Paris although it must have been thought the viewers needed the verisimilitude laid on with a trowel because also prominent was a handbag in the shape of the Eifel Tower.  A gift to the meme-makers, admiration for the dress was restrained.

Sepia

Sepia (pronounced see-pee-uh)

(1) A dark brown pigment obtained from the ink-like secretion of various cuttlefish, often used with brush or pen in drawing.

(2) A drawing made with this pigment.

(3) A photograph or digital image in the tone recognized as “sepia”.

(4) A specific range of shades of brown, which tend to a reddish tincture.

(5) In photography, a print or photograph rendered within this color range, associated especially with early types such as calotype.  Now easily replicated in software, when using physical film stock it can be produced by first bleaching a print (after fixing), then immersing it for a short time in a solution of sodium sulphide or of alkaline thiourea.

(6) Any of several cuttlefish of the genus Sepia, producing a dark fluid used naturally for defense and, by humans, in various mixes of ink (mostly archaic but still used in technical literature).

1821: From the Italian seppia (cuttlefish), from the Latin sēpia, from the Ancient Greek σηπία (sēpía) (cuttlefish (and its secretion)), the origin of which is uncertain, the orthodox explanation being it was from the Ancient Greek σήπειν (sḗpein) (to make rotten) but there are etymologists who suggest while that’s “semantically possible” (on the basis of the “rotten:” smelling ink), it’s may be from a pre-Greek source.  The Greek sḗpein was related to σήψ (sḗps) (a kind of lizard; also a serpent, the bite of which was alleged to cause putrefaction”).  The Greek sēpía was akin to sepsis.  Sepia & sepian are nouns & adjectives and sepialike (also as sepia-like) is an adjectives; the noun plural is sepias.

The use of the word to describe the brown pigment extracted from the secretions of cuttlefish dates from the 1820s and the “brownish” meaning as applied to drawings was first recorded in English in 1863 (originally as “sepia drawing”); it was extended later to photography and film and it remains a motif in “retro” art and verisimilitude in film & television.  Reflecting the influence of Classical & Medieval Latin in the formation of zoological taxonomy, sepia had been used of the cuttlefish as early as the late-fourteenth century but today such use is rare.  The Latin was also the source of words in a number of languages including the Bulgarian се́пия (sépija), the Catalan sèpia, the Esperanto sepio, the Finnish seepia, the French sépia, the Galician sepia, the German Sepia, the Hungarian szépia, the Japanese: セピア色 (sepiairo), the Portuguese sépia, the Romanian sepia, the Russian се́пия (sépija), the Spanish sepia, the Swedish sepia, the Tagalog sepia and the Turkish sepia.  

The noun sepiolite (in mineralogy, a hydrated magnesium silicate, clay mineral used for carving into decorative articles and smoking pipes (known also as meerschaum), from the same etymological origin as sepia, picked up the name because of the resemblance to cuttlebone.  The -lite suffix (when used formally) was a representation of the Ancient Greek λίθος (líthos) (stone) and was appended to form the names of rocks and minerals.  In informal use (in commerce or humorously (and in politics often disparagingly)) it's a phonetic version of “light” in the sense of “smaller, lesser, reduced in weight”; it's used often for cut-down (sometimes free) versions of software, diet drinks etc.

Montage of Lindsay Lohan red-carpet stills, rendered in vintage calotype sepia.

As an adjective sepian (the comparative more sepian, the superlative most sepian) began life meaning (1) of or pertaining to the sepia (in the sense of the cuttlefish or its dark pigment) and (2) of the color (not of necessity produced with the derived ink).  In the post-war Unites States, sepia was adopted to refer to some of those with darker pigmentation of the skin, specifically applied to black Americans or African Americans.  The emergence was because in many parts of the US, use of most offensive of the N-words had become socially less acceptable in many circles and as this disapprobation trickled down the social spectrum, new slurs were created, sepian presumably attractive because of the history as a description of colors of paint, fabrics etc.  It was thus separated from ethnic identity and could thus be defended as wholly neutral in use.  As a term, it was neither sufficiently widely adopted nor endured in use for long enough for any pejorative association to become attached so it never became part of the linguistic treadmill.

Bridget Bardot (b 1934) in sepia, on set in Viva Maria! (1965).

As an artistic device, sepia is sometimes used in film.  In The Wizard of Oz (1939), one of the most famous uses was to contrast the bleak, sepia-toned scenes in Kansas with the vibrant (techni-) color in the Land of Oz.  A different effect was achieved in The Shape of Water (2017) (which is either a fantasy or science fiction (SF) film depending on who is writing the review), the sepia-toned sequences depicting the protagonist's memories and dreams.  Presumably, directors find sepia a useful device because black & white (the other obvious alternative) has through use become vested with connotations, gained not only from of the association with film noir.

Fasces

Fasces (pronounced fas-eez)

(1) In ancient Rome, one or more bundles of rods (historically wooden sticks) containing an axe with its blade protruding, borne before Roman magistrates as an emblem of official power.

(2) In modern Italy, a bundle of rods containing an axe with the blade projecting, used as the symbol of Fascism (sometimes used imitatively in other places).

1590–1600: From the Latin fasces (bundle of rods containing an axe with the blade projecting), the plural of fascis (bundle or pack of wood), from the Proto-Italic faski- (bundle) possibly from the primitive Indo-European bhasko- (band, bundle), (the source also of the Middle Irish basc (neckband), the Welsh baich (load, burden) and possibly the Old English bæst (inner bark of the linden tree)).  In Ancient Rome, the bundle (the “fascio littorio”) was carried by a functionary before a lictor (a senior Roman magistrate) as a symbol of the judiciary’s power over life and limb (the sticks symbolized the use of corporal punishment (by whipping or thrashing with sticks) while the axe-head represented capital jurisdiction (execution by beheading)).  From this specific symbolism, in Latin the word came to be used figuratively of “high office, supreme power”.  Fasces is a noun (usually used with a singular verb); the noun plural is fascis but fasces is used as both a singular & plural.  For this reason, some in the field of structural linguistics suggest fascis remains Latin while (and thus a foreign word) fasces has been borrowed by English (and is thus assimilated).

The Italian term fascismo (a fascist dictatorship; fascism) was from fascio (bundle of sticks) and ultimately from the Latin fasces.  The name was picked up by the political organizations in Italy known as fasci (originally created along the lines of guilds or syndicates, the structures surviving for some time even as some evolved into “conventional” political parties).  Benito Mussolini’s (1883-1945; Duce (leader) & prime-minister of Italy 1922-1943) recollections of events were not wholly reliable but there are contemporary documents which support his account that he co-founded Fasci d'Azione Rivoluzionaria (Fasces of Revolutionary Action), the organisation publishing the Fascio Rivoluzionario d'Azione Internazionalista (the Revolutionary Internationalist Action League) in October 1914.  As far as is known, the future Duce’s embryonic movement was the first use of the terminology the world would come to know as “fascism”, the organizational structure of the Partito Nazionale Fascista (National Fascist Party) first discussed in 1919 and codified in 1919 when the party was registered.

Surviving art from Ancient Rome confirms the fascio littorio was represented both  with the head of the axe protruding from the centre of the bundled rods of the fasces and through a gape in the sides (left) but in Fascist Italy (1922-1943), the official images issued by the state used almost exclusively the latter arrangement (right).   

The Fascists choose the ancient Roman fascio littorio (a bundle of rods tied around an axe) because (1) the literal suggestion of strength through unity; while a single rod (an individual) is easily broken, a bundle (the collective) is more resilient and resistant to force and (2) the symbolic value which dated from Antiquity of the strong state with the power of life & death over its inhabitants.  The evocation of the memories of the glories of Rome was important to Mussolini who wished to re-fashion Italian national consciousness along the lines of his own self-image: virile, martial and superior.  When he first formed his political movement, Italy had been a unified nation less little more than fifty years and Mussolini, his envious eye long cast at Empire builders like the British and Prussians, despaired that Italians seemed more impressed by the culture of the decadent French for whom “dress-making and cooking have been elevated to the level of art”.  The use by the Nazis of the swastika symbol was a similar attempt at linkage although less convincing; at least the history of the fasces was well documented.  The Nazis claimed the swastika as a symbol of the “Aryan People” which they quite erroneously claimed was a definable racial identity rather than a technical term used by linguistic anthropologists studying the evolution of European languages.  Although there was much overlap in style, racist ideology, fascist movements in different countries tended to localize their symbols and Falange in Spain was one of the few to integrate the fasces although the yoke & arrows of the Falange flags were actually an adoption of a design which had long appeared on the standards of the Spanish royal house.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945 was at least honest in private conversation when he admitted that of human beings that “scientifically, there is only one race” but the propaganda supporting his (ultimately genocidal) racist philosophy was concerned with effect, not facts.  Hitler too, had no wish to too deeply to dig into an inconvenient past.  It annoyed him that Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) went about commissioning archaeological excavations of prehistoric sites which could only “…call the whole world’s attention to the fact we have no past?  It isn’t enough that the Romans were erecting great buildings when our forefathers were still living in mud huts; now Himmler is starting to dig up those villages of mud huts and enthusing over every potsherd and stone axe he finds.  All we prove by that is that we were still throwing stone hatchets and crouching around open fires when Greece and Rome had already reached the highest stage of culture”.  Perhaps with the Duce in mind, he added “The present-day Romans must be having a laugh at these revelations”.

The fascist salute has become so associated with Hitler and Nazism that in recent years some jurisdictions have banned its use, emulating the prohibition which has existed in Germany (the sanction pre-dating unification in 1990) for decades.  Because the salute is the same gesture as that used for purposes ranging from waving to one's mother to hailing a taxi, prosecutions are expected to be initiated only in cases of blatant anti-Semitism or other offensive acts.  The "salute" is so widely used that photographs exist of just about every politician in the act and they're often published; usually it's just a cheap journalistic trick but if carefully juxtaposed with something, it can be effective.     

The Duce’s reverence for the Ancient Rome of popular imagination accounts at least in part also for the Fascist’s adoption of the Roman salute although Mussolini did also object to the shaking of hands on the basis it was “effete, un-Italian and un-hygienic” and as the reduced infection rates of just about everything during the “elbow-bumping” era of the COVID-19 social isolation illustrated, on that last point, he had a point.  Other fascist regimes and movements also adopted the salute, most infamously the Nazis although none were as devoted as Hitler who, quite plausibly, claimed to have spent hours a day for weeks using a spring-loaded “chest expander” he’d obtained by mail-order so he’d strengthen his shoulder muscles sufficiently to enable him to stand, sometimes for a hour or more with his right arm extended as parades of soldiers passed before him.

A much-published image of the Duce, raising his arm in the fascist salute next to the bronze statue of Nerva (Marcus Cocceius Nerva) (30–98; Roman emperor 96-98) in the Roman Forum.

However, historians maintain there’s simply no evidence anything like the fascist salute of the twentieth century was a part of the culture of Ancient Rome, either among the ruling class or any other part of the population.  Whether the adoption as a alleged emulation of Roman ways was an act of cynicism of self-delusion on the part of the Duce isn’t known although he may have been impressed by the presence of the gesture in neo-classical painting, something interesting because it wasn’t a motif in use prior to the eighteenth century.  This “manufacturing” of Antiquity wasn’t even then something new; the revival of interest in Greece and Rome during the Renaissance resulted in much of the material which in the last few hundred years has informed and defined in the popular imagination how the period looked and what life was like.  By the twentieth century, it was this art which was reflected in the props and sets used in the newly accessible medium of film and the salute, like the architecture, was part of the verisimilitude.  Mussolini enjoyed films and to be fair, there were in Italy a number of statutes from the epoch in which generals, emperors, senators and other worthies had a arm raised although historians can find no evidence which suggests the works were a representation of a cultural practice anything like a salute.  Indeed, an analysis of many statues revealed that rather than salutes, many of the raised arms were actually holding things and one of the best known was revealed to have been repaired after the spear once in the hand had been damaged.

Adolf Hitler showing the "long arm" & "short arm" variants of the fascist salute (left) and examples of the long arm & short arm penalty being awarded in rugby union (right).

In fascist use, what evolved was the “long-arm” salute used on formal occasions or for photo opportunities and a “short-arm” variation which was a gesture which referenced the formal salute which was little more than a bending of the elbow and involved the hand rising at a 45^o angle only to the level of the shoulder; in that the relationship of the short to the long can be thought symbiotic.  Amusingly and wholly unrelated to fascism, the concept was re-appropriated in the refereeing of rugby union where a “short-arm” penalty (officially a “free-kick”) is a penalty awarded for a minor infringement of the games many rules.  Whereas a “full-arm” penalty offers the team the choice of kicking for goal, kicking for touch or taking a tap to resume play, a “short-arm” penalty allows a kick at goal, a kick for touch or the option of setting a scrum instead of a lineout.  The referee signals a “short-arm” penalty by raising their arm at an angle of 45^o.

Sometimes, a wave is just a wave.

Probe

Probe (pronounced prohb)

(1) To search into or examine thoroughly; question closely; an investigation, especially by a legislative committee, of suspected illegal activity.

(2) To examine or explore with or as if with a probe; the act of probing.

(3) A slender surgical instrument for exploring the depth or direction of a wound, sinus, or the like.

(4) In aerospace, an unmanned exploration spacecraft.

(5) A projecting, pipe-like device on a receiving aircraft used to make connection with and receive fuel from a tanker aircraft during refuelling in flight.

(6) A device, attached by cord to an oven that can be inserted into food so the oven shuts off when the desired internal temperature of the food is reached.

(7) In biochemistry, any identifiable substance that is used to detect, isolate, or identify another substance, as a labelled strand of DNA that hybridizes with its complementary RNA or a monoclonal antibody that combines with a specific protein.

(8) In electronics, a lead connecting to or containing a measuring or monitoring circuit used for testing; a conductor inserted into a waveguide or cavity resonator to provide coupling to an external circuit

1555–1565: From the Medieval Latin proba (examination (“test” in Late Latin)), derivative of probāre (to test, examine, prove), from probus (good).  The Spanish tienta (a surgeon's probe) came from tentar (try, test).  The dual meanings in Latin ((1) instrument for exploring wounds etc and (2) an examination) persist in English.  The sense "act of probing" is from 1890, from the verb; the figurative sense of "penetrating investigation" is from 1903.  The use to describe a "small, unmanned exploratory spacecraft" is attested from 1953; unrelated to this is the curious popularity of aliens subjecting humans to examinations with anal probes in stories of alien abduction.  Probe is a noun & verb, probing & probed are verbs, probeable is an adjective and probingly is an adverb; the noun plural is probes.

The Voyager 1 space probe launched by NASA in 1977.

Originally (with companion probe Voyager 2) a twelve-year mission, it’s expected to remain a functional scientific instrument until 2025 and is now some 24 billion km (15 billion miles) away, the most distant human-made object from Earth (only our radio waves have travelled further).  There are some who claim the probes have already reached inter-stellar space while other astronomers  maintain the edge of our solar system extends much further than was once thought and they're travelling still through a sort of cosmic limbo.  The Voyager probes, even after they're long inert, may continue their journeys for thousands or millions of years because, although the universe is a violent, destructive swirl, there is vast distance between threatening stuff.

Of the many inconsistencies in English spelling, none must be seem more mystifying to anyone learning the language than those words affected by the “mute e rule”: the inflections and derivatives formed from words ending in a “silent e”.  The question always is: to e or not to e?  Deciding whether to retain or omit the last letter is easier than once it was because dictionaries seem now to be more consistent in their approach, presumably one of the benefits of their shift to becoming on-line resources although, for historic reasons, we seem stuck with what seem ancient, arbitrary decisions such as ageing and icing continuing in peaceful co-existence.  So, there are words where centuries of particular spellings have become entrenched that to suggest a change would be absurd and that means any rule would have both examples which conform and those which defy.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) acknowledged the impossibility of constructing a rule of absolute validity but as a guide offered (1) an indicative rule and (2) a guide to the exceptions.  The (1) rule was “when a suffix is added to a word ending in a mute e, the mute e should be dropped before a vowel but not before a consonant”.  The condition for (2) an exception was “the mute e should be kept even before a vowel if it is needed to indicate the soft sound of a preceding g or c or to distinguish a word from another with the same spelling”.  Probe is such an exception because if one has a probe, it’s helpful to know if something (or someone according to those who have been abducted by aliens) is probeable and that adjective can’t be spelled “probable” because that has another meaning.

The Mazda MX-6-based Ford Probe (1988-1997, left) and the car it was once mooted to replace, the long-serving “Fox” Mustang (1978-1993).

A competent, inoffensive coupé, the Ford Probe would probably have existed for a decade as a moderate success and then, having been discontinued without a direct replacement, been soon forgotten, had it not been for the furore which ensued when the idea surfaced it might be the company’s replacement for the Mustang.  In 1987, by means of a “controlled leak” the pro-Mustang faction (the beer drinkers) within the corporation let it be known Ford was planning to replace the Mustang with a modified version of a Mazda (championed by the chardonnay faction).  The reaction was vociferous & voluminous, Ford’s mailbox (and in 1987 mail came in envelopes with stamps attached) soon overflowing with complaints, the idea of a front-wheel-drive (FWD) Mustang anathematic, the absence of a V8 apparently beyond comprehension (although the Mustang II had suffered that fate in 1973-1975).  They also put their money where their poison pens were because the previously moribund sales of Mustangs suddenly spiked, the thought that this might be the last chance to buy a “proper” rear-wheel-drive (RWD), V8 powered Mustang enough to push the thing back up the sales chart.  The flow of letters and cash proved enough to persuade Ford and the platform was reprieved, the Mustang surviving to this day as a unique and highly profitable niche.  The Mazda co-project however was well advanced so the decision was taken to proceed and offer both and, badged as the Ford Probe, the modified Mazda lasted a decade-odd and it’s doubtful it cannibalized much of the Mustang’s market, its competition the other mid-sized, FWD Japanese coupés which had become popular.  A typical Japanese product, well engineered with a high build-quality, the Probe was a success (though it never realised Ford’s hopes in overseas markets) and when production ended, the only reason it wasn’t replaced was because the demographic buying the things had shifted to other segments, notably the sports utility vehicles (SUV) which would soon dominate.

1969 M-505 Adams Brothers Probe 16 (Durango 95)

The still controversial film A Clockwork Orange (1971) was based on the dystopian 1962 novel of the same name by Anthony Burgess (1917–1993).  At the time shocking in its depiction of violence, it's set some time in the future and as part of the verisimilitude the car used in the "driving scene" was a M-505 Adams Brothers Probe 16, one of three built.  Only 34 inches (864 mm) high (the prototype was 5 inches (125 mm) lower!), it emerged from the studios of the designers of the quirky Marcos sports cars which were idiosyncratic even by the standards of the cottage industry of low-volume sports cars which flourished in the UK until the early 1970s.  Although utterly impractical (passengers entered and exited through a sliding glass roof) it certainly looked futuristic but performance was disappointing because of the limited power. To create the mid-engined Probe, the designers used the engine and gearbox from the modest Austin 1800, moving the FWD package amidships, an approach later adopted by a number of manufacturers.  Had it been built using the mechanicals from the contemporary Cadillac Eldorado (which improbably had a 472 cubic inch (7.7 litre) V8 driving the front wheels through a chain-drive transaxle), assuming such a thing could be made to fit, it would have offered performance to match the promise of the looks.  In the film, the Probe was given the name “Durango 95” a name which seems to have chosen for no particular reason although the “95” may have been an allusion to 1995, decades away when the book was written.  Although A Clockwork Orange is perhaps not something with which manufacturers would like their products to be associated, many have since used the Durango name for a variety of purposes.

Newspaper headline writers like the word “probe”.  Within the industry, short, punchy words like “probe”, “jab”, “fix”, “bid” et al are part of a subset of English called “headline language”.

Driving scene in A Clockwork Orange (1971): 1969 M-505 Adams Brothers Probe 16 (Durango 95).

Verecund

Verecund (pronounced ver-i-kuhnd)

Bashful; shy modest, unassuming (rare).

1560–1570: A learned borrowing from the Latin verēcundus (shy, diffident, modest), the construct being verē(rī) (to fear or revere) + -cundus (the adjectival suffix).  The Latin verērī in the hands of medieval translators caused a minor theological dispute which lasted into the twentieth century.  In Latin verērī meant (1) “I have respect for, revere, stand in awe” & (2) “I am afraid, fear; dread”.  What entered ecclesiastical use and ultimately English translations of the Bible was the phrase “fear of God” which most modern scholars think was intended to covey the idea of being “in awe of” Almighty God but because of the way “fear” came to be understood, the other sense was generally assumed.  Of course, the idea of the “vengeful God” was popular among many clergy and theologians so there were those who would prefer their congregations to be afraid rather than merely reverential.  The equally rare adjective inverecund of course means “not modest” but in literary use (it’s doubtful if often appears elsewhere) it can be deployed to convey not only that but also something in the range of shameless to slutty; it’s surprising it’s so rare.  Verecund is an adjective and verecundity is a noun; the noun plural is verecundities.

Verecund entered the language about the same time as some others which have rather better sustained popularity including flare, gondola, monitor, parallel & vacuum but it was never common.  In the nineteenth century it seems to have enjoyed the odd spike but that was always from a low base although the Oxford English Dictionary’s (OED) entry in 1916 makes no mention of it being rare, or archaic, let alone obsolete.  It has thus never quite gone extinct but it’s not hard to suspect much of the use in the internet age is in lists of rare words confirming the rarity although it was in the script of the play Translations by Brian Friel (1929-2015), first performed in 1980.  That though was set in 1833 and part of the verisimilitude was that some members of the cast were well versed in the classics.

Verecund fashion is an amusing way of describing women’s clothing which displays rather less skin than much of which draws the eye of magazine editors deciding what to publish.  As something new "modest fashion" is almost wholly illusory because, by volume, most of the clothing sold around the word is, and has long been, of a modest cut which doesn’t reveal enough skin much to be noticed.  There are exceptions to that such as the somewhat misleadingly named burkini (the construct a portmanteau of bur(k)a + (bi)kini)) which was an ankle-to-hair-to-wrist swimsuit which while it showed little flesh was still sufficiently figure-hugging to be condemned by a number of mullahs and muftis.  The novelty is the publicity granted to "modest fashion" 

As a specific market segment however, modest fashion represents various industry players indentifying a way of applying their labels to quite unexceptional styles and marketing them to women with higher disposable income who for whatever reason wish to dress in a manner described usually as “conservative”.  The ideas of modesty can adhere to principles associated with religious belief and cultural practice or simply be personal preference.  There are suggestions modest fashion has introduced a higher level of style to a previously under-serviced market but it’s doubtful what has been displayed in recent shows differs greatly from what could have been found in catalogues in years gone by but as a high-priced range to be added to designer labels, it should deliver a solid profit especially in emerging markets where there are an increasing number of upper middle-class women anxious to spend disposable income and show the label.

In philosophy, the ad verecundiam fallacy deals with aspects of appeals to authority or expertise.  Essentially, the fallacy describes the acceptance as evidence for a proposition the pronouncement of someone taken to be an authority actually lacks the required expertise or position.  This typically happens when someone offers an opinion on a matter in which they have no particular competence and is not restricted to pop culture celebrities because more than one Nobel laureate has noted the absurdity of them being invited to comment on subjects about which they know no more than any intelligent layman. The phrase was a clipping of the Latin expression argumentum ad verecundiam, which deconstructs as argumentum (argument) + ad ("to" or "at") + verecundiam, the accusative singular of verecundia (coyness, modesty; shame).  The idea has a similar manifestation in law where the question of “real or ostensible authority” is involved.  In many common law jurisdictions, there are circumstances where it can be a defense that an unlawful act was undertaken because a person who the defendant could reasonably believe to possess the requisite authority to give permission for the act to be performed did so.  If a defendant acting in reliance on the belief the permission was lawfully and correctly granted, it can be a defense.  In one Australian case, a member of a parliament (a senator) gave "permission" for a protestor to stand in a certain place within the environs of the parliament and after doing so the protester was duly charged with trespass.  The court found (1) the senator had no authority to grant permission for an act of trespass to be immune from prosecution and (2) it was unreasonable for the defendant to believe a senator possessed either real or ostensible authority in this matter.  It seems still a rather harsh ruling but the conviction stood.

Portrait of John Locke (1697), oil on canvas by Godfrey Kneller (1646–1723).

Although he wouldn’t have recognized the term “ad-fallacies”, it was the English philosopher and physician John Locke (1632-1704) who unintentionally laid the basis for the class of what are in philosophy now known as the “ad-arguments” or “ad-fallacies”. In his An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690), he identified three kinds of arguments, the ad verecundiam, ad ignorantiam, and ad hominem, each of which he contrasted with ad judicium arguments (those based on “the foundations of knowledge and probability” which are reliable routes to truth and knowledge).  Locke did not use the word “fallacies” but instead described the three as the kinds of arguments “that men, in their reasoning with others, do ordinarily make use of to prevail on their assent; or at least so to awe them as to silence their opposition.”

While the latter two have been embellished in application beyond Locke’s original thoughts, his characterization of the ad verecundiam is considered still the classic example of appeal-to-authority arguments.  When considered a fallacy, it’s either on the basis that the relevant authority is fallible or because an appeal to authority is an abdication of an individual’s responsibility to determine the veracity of knowledge.  Read literally of course, that would imply Locke was suggesting nobody should ever rely on the expertise of others but that seems improbable.  What is more likely is that he was contrasting the legitimate authority of knowledge with the illusory authority of social standing; the granting of respect and deference to others purely on the basis of their place in the social hierarchy, something even more pronounced in the seventeenth-century than today.  The language Locke used in connection with the ad verecundiam (“eminency”, “dignity”, “breach of modesty” & “having too much pride”) does hint what he had in mind was the kind of authority that demands respect merely for “being who they are” rather than for “what they know”, compelling someone to accept a conclusion because of their modesty or shame, rather than the quality of argument.  In deference to Locke therefore, it’s best to translate ad verecundiam literally, as “appeal to modesty.”

Pullman

Pullman (pronounced pool-muhn or pull-minn)

(1) A range of railroad sleeping cars produced by the Pullman Palace Car Company which operated in the US between 1867 and 1968.

(2) A generic term for up-market coaches and train carriages.

(3) A term used by certain automobile manufacturers to describe lengthened versions of their limousines; most associated with Humber in the UK and Daimler-Benz in Germany.

(4) A type of long, square bread developed to be baked in the small kitchens of rail cars.

(5) As Pullman case, a type of large suitcase.

(6) In architecture, a long, narrow room, a visual allusion to the interior of a railway carriage.

1867: From the name of Chicago-based US engineer and industrialist George Mortimer Pullman (1831–1897).  It was first applied to the luxury railway coaches the Pullman Palace Car Company introduced in 1867, first in Chicago, later used across the US.  The name became widely used in a number of countries, used to describe up-market coaches and train carriages.

Interiors of Pullman Train Carriages

Bristol Type 26 Pullman

The Bristol Pullman first flew in 1918, designated originally as the Type 24 Braemar Triplane, a four-engined heavy bomber.  Tests soon revealed performance deficiencies and, as the Type 25 Braemar II, a second prototype took to the air in 1919, now with four, more powerful straight-12 Liberty engines and though it proved satisfactory the end of hostilities meant the Air Ministry no longer required a long-range bomber so Bristol reconfigured the third prototype as the Type 26 Pullman, a fourteen-passenger transport.  The use of the Pullman name was an allusion to the luxury of trains although, weight of greater significance in airframes, the fittings were notably less extravagant.  Although exhibited to acclaim at the 1920 Olympia Air Show in 1920, the projected price was too high for the embryonic civilian airlines of the era and the Pullman never entered production, the sole prototype dismantled in 1921 but in a sense, it really was the first “modern” airliner.  The wildly ambitious Type 40 Pullman, an enlarged forty-passenger version, never advanced beyond the drawing board.  Whether the Type 25 it would have been an effective heavy bomber has been debated.  The top speed was claimed to be 122 mph (196 km/h) which was competitive with the fighters of the time and the service ceiling was said to 15,000 feet (4575 m), a height which even some of the early heavy bombers of World War II struggled to match but whether these numbers would have be matched when fully loaded, under combat conditions, isn’t known.

Mercedes-Benz 600 Pullman & Pullman Landaulet

A symbol of the post-war Wirtschaftswunder (economic miracle) in West Germany (Federal Republic of Germany (FRG), 1949-1990), Daimler-Benz first showed the Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100) in September 1963 at the Frankfurt Motor Show although deliveries didn’t begin until the following year.  Known as the Grosser (grand or greatest) Mercedes in the tradition of the 770K (W07; 1930-1938 & W150; 1938-1943)), it was what had by the 1960s become an automotive rarity, a genuinely new car with no carry-over components from previous vehicles and was a technological tour de force even eschewing (relatively) noisy electric motors for accessories like windows and sun roofs, instead controlling them via a swift and silent hydraulic system which extended even to automating the closing of doors and trunk (boot).  Powered by a 6.3 litre (386 cubic inch) single overhead camshaft (SOHC) V8, which powered it to a top speed of 128 mph (205 km/h) (124 (200) for the heavier Pullman), it rode on air suspension which, in addition to the expectedly cushion-like ride, permitted the 600 a competence in handling and roadholding exceeding many of the sports car of the era, some of which couldn’t match its straight-line speed.  Remarkably, this was achieved with the use of swing axles at the rear although years of refinement of the anti-squat, anti-dive geometry and a compensating device above the differential tamed the worst of the tendencies inherent in what was, even in the early sixties seen as an inherently flawed design.

600 SWB (left), 600 Pullman 4 door (centre) & 600 Pullman Landaulet with the "short" roof (right).  Although the factory would build the landaulets to the requested configuration, most of the 6 door cars used the "long" fabric roof which began above the front seats while on the 4 door cars, the metal roof extended mid-way into the rear-passenger compartment.  Although the long-roof cars are sometimes referred to as the "presidential", this was never an official designation.

With economies expanding on both sides of the Atlantic, Daimler-Benz had great expectations for the 600, predicting sales would soon exceed a thousand a year but, after an encouraging 345 were built in 1965 (the first full-year of production), demand waned and even that high-water mark was never again approached.  The increasingly onerous regulations being imposed in the United States meant that by 1972, the 600 had to be withdrawn from what had always been the most important market.  After that, although dictators in Africa and Asia remained fond of the things, there simply weren’t enough of them to sustain the line and the company concentrated on the UK, European and Middle Eastern markets and there were some encouraging signs until in something of an own goal, in 1972 Mercedes-Benz released the W116, the first model to be known as the “S Class” and, although in a different market segment to the grosser, it was so advanced and obviously modern that instantly it made the anyway rather baroque 600 look antiquated.  The final nail in the coffin was the first oil shock in 1973 and from then until the end of the line in 1981, production dwindled to a handful a year, availability maintained only because of the thing’s importance in the brand’s image and the lingering aura of having upon its release been lauded generally as “the best car in the world”, perhaps the last time about that there would be a consensus.

600 Pullman Landaulets: 4 doors with the short roof (left & centre) and 6 door with the long roof (right).  The factory built the Pullmans to order and there were many variations (one Pullman even built as a "family car" without the glass partition which normally separated the chauffeur from the passengers), most of the 4 door cars were fitted with "vis-a-vis" seating whereas the 6 door models usually had occasional "jump seats" which folded into the central partition.

The standard 600 was built on a wheelbase of 3200 mm (126”) while the Pullmans (and all but one of the landaulets) used a lengthened platform, extending this to 3900 mm (153 ½“).  Often (correctly but somewhat misleadingly) referred to as the SWB (short wheelbase), the standard car was 5540 mm (218 “) in length while the elongated Pullmans (LWB or long wheelbase) stretch this to 6240 mm (245¾”) and the weight varied, depending on configuration between 3000-3300 kg (6600-7275 lb).  Over the eighteen-odd years it was on the books, Mercedes built 2677 600s (including 45 “special protection” versions, a coupé and one SWB landaulet), the breakdown being:

6 door 600 Pullman Landaulet (left), 4 dr 600 Pullman Landaulet used by the FRG (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) for Queen Elizabeth II's 1965 state visit (centre) and 4 door 600 Pullman.

Few cars have ever so encapsulated an association with wealth and power which is why Pullmans continue to be sought be film directors looking for a prop which at a glance delivers the desired verisimilitude.  Additionally, being long and low-slung, unlike the traditional, upright Rolls-Royce Phantom limousines, the Pullmans always managed to convey something slightly sinister, thus the appearance in films of a certain kind although the use in The Exorcist probably was about money.  If the look alone isn’t enough, the ownership list included: King Khalid Bin Abdulaziz Al Saud of Saudi Arabia, Park Chung-hee, Josip Broz Tito, Nicolae Ceaușescu, Pol Pot, Enver Hoxha, Francois (Papa Doc) Duvalier, Jean-Bédel Bokassa, Emperor Hirohito, FW de Klerk, Leonid Brezhnev, Idi Amin, Fidel Castro, Robert Mugabe, Jomo Kenyatta, Daniel arap Moi, Ferdinand Marcos (who owned four, including a Landaulet and a “special protection”, Kim Il-sung (the Great Leader passing his two landaulets (along with the rest of the DPRK (North Korea) to Kim Jong-il (the Dear Leader) and Kim Jong-un (the Supreme Leader), Saddam Hussein, the last Shah of Iran who had several, Chairman Mao Zedong, Chen Yi, Deng Xiaoping (wife of Zhou Enlai), Deng Yingchao, Norodom Sihanouk, Léopold Sédar, Nicolae Ceauşescu, Idi Amin Dada, Enver Hoxha, Papa Doc Duvalier, Josip Broz Tito & Mobutu Sese Seko.

SCV 1, the 600 Pullman used as the papal car by the Holy See, 1965-1986.

The 600 Pullman landaulet presented to Pope Paul VI (1897–1978; pope 1963-1978) and used by the Holy See between 1965-1986 was the latest in a line of papal Mercedes-Benz which had included a 1930 Nürburg 460 (W08) and a 1960 300d Cabriolet D (W189), both fitted with the throne-like, single rear seat, the same configuration used in “popemobiles” to this day.  It was one of the 45 “special build” 600s, using the long wheelbase platform but with the rear doors 256 millimeters longer and directly adjoining the front doors.  The roof of the Pullman landaulet was raised by 70 millimeters to provide adequate headroom, something necessitated by the floor being level in the rear, the transmission tunnel concealed underneath.  The car since 1986 has been on display in the Mercedes-Benz Museum in Untertürkheim, complete with the registration SCV 1 (Stato della Città del Vaticano 1 (Vatican City State No 1), the number one identifying the pope’s official car at any given time, much as the US Air Force call-sign Air Force 1 moves with the president).

Lindsay Lohan with 600 Pullman during the filming of Liz & Dick (2012).

A most unfortunate conjunction of imagery: Adolf Hitler on Berlin's newly opened East-West Axis in his 770K Grosser Cabriolet F open tourer (W150; 1939-1943) in a parade marking his fiftieth birthday, opposite the Technical High School, 20 April 1939 (left) and David Bowie in his 600 Pullman Landaulet, Victoria Station, London, 2 May 1976 (right).

The pop star David Bowie (1947-2016) understood he was an influential figure in music but on more than one occasion explained to interviewers: “I am not an original thinker”.  Trawling pop-culture for inspiration nevertheless served him well but he later came to regret dabbling with history slightly less recent.  Not impressed with the state of British society and its economy in the troubled mid-1970s, he was quoted variously as suggesting the country would benefit for “an ultra right-wing government” or “a fascist leader”.  Although he would later claim he was captivated more by the fashions than the policies of the Third Reich, the most celebrated event of this period came in 1976 in what remains known as the "Victoria Station incident".  Bowie staged a media event, arriving standing in an open 600 Pullman Landaulet, recalling for many the way in which Hitler so often appeared in his 770K.  Unfortunately, a photographer captured a shot in what the singer later claimed was “mid wave” and it certainly resembled as Nazi salute.  He later attributed all that happened during this stage of his career to too many hard drugs which had caused his interest in the aesthetics of inter-war Berlin to turn into an obsession with politics of the period.  All was however quickly forgiven and his audience awaited the next album which is an interesting contrast to the cancel culture created by the shark-feeding dynamic of the social media era.  Now, were a pop star to tell interviewers: “Britain could benefit from a fascist leader” and “I believe very strongly in fascism … Adolf Hitler was one of the first rock stars”, their future career prospects might be "nasty, solitary, brutish and short".