Hang

Hang (pronounced hang)

(1) To fasten or attach a thing so that it is supported only from above or at a point near its own top; to attach or suspend so as to allow free movement.

(2) To place in position or fasten so as to allow easy or ready movement.

(3) To put to death by suspending by the neck from a gallows, gibbet, yardarm, or the like; to suspend (oneself) by the neck until dead.

(4) To fasten to a cross; crucify.

(5) To furnish or decorate with something suspended.

(6) In fine art, to exhibit a painting or group of paintings.

(7) To attach or annex as an addition.

(8) In building, to attach (a door or the like) to its frame by means of hinges.

(9) To make an idea, form etc dependent on a situation, structure, concept, or the like, usually derived from another source.

(10) As hung jury, hung parliament etc, where deliberative body is unable to achieve a majority verdict in a vote.

(11) In informal use, to cause a nickname, epithet etc to become associated with a person

(12) In nautical use, to steady (a boat) in one place against a wind or current by thrusting a pole or the like into the bottom under the boat and allowing the wind or current to push the boat side-on against the pole.

(13) To incline downward, jut out, or lean over or forward.

(14) To linger, remain, or persist; to float or hover in the air.

(15) In informal use (to get the hang of), the precise manner of doing, using, etc, something; knack.

(16) In computing, as “to hang”, usually a synonym for “freeze”.  Nerds insist a hang refers only to a loss of control by manual input devices (mouse; keyboard etc) while the machine remains responsive to remote control whereas a freeze is a total lock-up.

(18) In chess (transitive) to cause a piece to become vulnerable to capture and (intransitive) to be vulnerable to capture.

(19) As “hang up”, to end a phone call, a use which has continued even though many phone handsets no longer physically “hang up”.

Pre 900:  A fusion of three verbs: (1) the Middle English and Old English hōn (to hang; be hanging) (transitive), cognate with the Gothic hāhan (originally haghan); (2) the Middle English hang(i)en & Old English hangian (to hang) (intransitive), cognate with the German hangen; and (3) the Middle English henge from the Old Norse hanga & hengja (suspend) (transitive), cognate with the German hängen & hangēn (to hang).  The ultimate source of all forms was the Proto-Germanic hanhaną (related to the Dutch hangen, the Low German hangen & hängen, the German hängen, the Norwegian Bokmål henge & Norwegian Nynorsk henga), root being the primitive Indo-European ḱenk- (to waver, be in suspense).  Etymologists compare the evolution with the Gothic hāhan, the Hittite gang- (to hang), the Sanskrit शङ्कते (śáṅkate) (is in doubt; hesitates), the Albanian çengë (a hook) and the Latin cunctari (to delay).  From the Latin cunctari, Modern English retains the very useful cunctator (a procrastinator; one who delays).

Past tense: hung and hanged

Hang has two forms for past tense and past participle, “hanged” and “hung”.  The older form hanged is now used exclusively in the sense of putting to death on the gallows by means of a lawful execution, sanctioned by the state.  Even in places where capital punishment is no longer used, it remains the correct word to use in its historical context.  There are two forms because the word “hang” came from two different verbs in Old English (with a relationship to one from Old Norse).  One of these Old English verbs was considered a regular verb and this gave rise to “hanged”; the other was irregular, and ended up as “hung”.  Hanged and hung were used interchangeably for hundreds of years but over time, hung became the more common.  Hanged retained its position when used to refer to death by hanging because it became fossilized in both statute and common law; it thus escaped the development of Modern English which tended increasingly to simplified forms.  Even the familiar phrase hung, drawn and quartered originally used “hanged”, a change reflecting popular use.  The only novel variation to emerge in recent years has been to use hanged to describe executions ordered by a state and hung when referring to suicides by hanging although this remains still a trend rather than an accepted convention of use.  Henry Fowler (1858–1933) in his A Dictionary of Modern English Usage (1926) held it wasn't necessarily erroneous to use "hung" in the case of executions but in standard English it was certainly less customary although most style guides acknowledge the distinction still exists while noting the use of hung is both widespread and tolerated.  The consensus seems to be it’s best to follow the old practice but not get too hung up about it.

Portraits: hung and not hung

Most politicians, usually by virtue of uninterest, leave the arts to others but there are exceptions and while Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) wasn't unique among politicians in regarding himself as “an artist” he was untypical and his credentials were reasonable because in pre-World War I (1914-1918) Vienna he’s earned a modest living as a painter of the streetscapes in which there’s now a somewhat controversial trade.  Critics seem prepared to concede Hitler was a competent artist when depicting buildings and even the natural environment but all concurred with the examiners who denied him entry to art school on the basis he had not enough talent to handle the human form, a judgment some historians, political scientists and amateur psychoanalysts have over the years mapped onto his political career.  With that he may even have agreed because the people in his paintings are almost always small, un-detailed blotches there merely to lend scale to the buildings which were his real love but, after taking power in 1933, he didn’t let that stop establishing himself as the Reich’s chief art critic and he’d judge portraiture as harshly as any landscape.  He certainly thought an “artistic temperament” was vital for a politician to achieve greatness, rejecting the idea of Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945) succeeding him as Führer because the head of the SS was “totally unartistic” and it was Hitler’s self-identification as “an artist” which in the first decade of his rule protected many painters, sculptors and others from persecution.  In his clandestine prison diary (Spandauer Tagebücher (Spandau: The Secret Diaries) (1975)) Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) noted that for Hitler their political views were “…a matter of supreme indifference…” because “…he regarded them one and all as politically feeble-minded.”  Speer recalled a lunch in 1938 at Hitler’s favorite Italian restaurant, Munich’s Osteria Bavaria, when a senior Nazi functionary brought to the Führer’s attention a Communist Party proclamation (pre-dating the regime) which had been signed by a large number of artists; the apparatchik wanted all these artists banned from any government work but Speer recoded how “Hitler replied disdainfully, ‘Oh, you know I don’t take any of that seriously. We should never judge artists by their political views.  The imagination they need for their work deprives them of the ability to think in realistic terms. Artists are simple-hearted souls. Today they sign this, tomorrow that; they don’t even look to see what it is, so long as it seems to them well-meaning.’”  It was an indulgence to freedom of expression Hitler granted few others and a contrast also with what would have been the likely reaction of comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) to revelations of dissent.  Comrade Stalin’s three preferred ways of dealing with such problems were (1) have them murdered, (2) have them sent to the Lubyanka (KGB headquarters on Moscow's Lubyanka Square) to be tortured to death or (3) have them sent to the Gulag to be worked to death.

Portrait of Oliver Cromwell (1650), oil on canvas by Samuel Cooper.

Even if it’s something ephemeral, politicians are often sensitive about representations of their image but concerns are heightened when it’s a portrait which, often somewhere hung on public view, will long outlive them.  Although in the modern age the proliferation and accessibility of the of the photographic record has meant portraits no longer enjoy an exclusivity in the depiction of history, there’s still something about a portrait which conveys, however misleadingly, a certain authority.  That’s not to suggest the classic representational portraits have always been wholly authentic, a good many of those of the good and great acknowledged to have been painted by “sympathetic” artists known for their subtleties in rendering their subjects variously more slender, youthful or hirsute as the raw material required.  Probably few were like Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658) who told Samuel Cooper (1609-1672) to paint him “warts and all”.  The artist obliged.

Although certain about the afterlife, Cromwell was a practical politician with few illusions about life on earth.  Once, when being driven in a coach through cheering crowds, his companion remarked that his popularity with the people must be pleasing.  The lord protector replied he had no doubt they’d be cheering just as loud were he being taken to the gallows to be hanged.

Exhibition of images of Lindsay Lohan by Richard Phillips (b 1962), hung in the Gagosian Gallery, 555 West 24th Street, New York, 11 September-20 October 2012.  Described by the artist as an installation, the exhibition was said to be "an example of the way Phillips uses collaborative forms of image production to reorder the relationship of Pop Art to its subjects, the staging and format of these lush, large-scale works said to render them realist portraits of the place-holders of their own mediated existence."

Bad Teddy and Good Theodore: Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903), oil on canvas by Théobald Chartran (left) and Portrait of Theodore Roosevelt (1903) oil on canvas by John Singer Sargent.

Nobel Peace Prize laureate Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919; US President 1901-1909), famous also for waging small wars and shooting big game, after being impressed by Théobald Chartran’s (1849–1907) portrait of his wife (Edith, 1861-1948), invited the French artist to paint him too.  So displeased was he with the result (which he thought made him look effete), he refused to hang the work.  Later, he would have it destroyed, turning turned instead to expatriate American artist John Singer Sargent (1856–1925).  The relationship didn’t start well as the two couldn’t agree on a setting and during one heated argument, the president suddenly, hand on hip, took on a defiant air while making a point and Sargent had his pose, imploring his subject not to move.  This one delighted Roosevelt and prominently it was hung in the White House.

Side by side: Portraits of Barak Obama (2011) and Donald Trump (2018), both oil on canvas by Sarah A Boardman, on permanent display, Gallery of Presidents, Third Floor, Rotunda, State Capitol Building, Denver, Colorado.

In March 2025 it was reported Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021 and since 2025) was not best pleased with a portrait of him hanging in Colorado’s State Capitol; he damned the work as “purposefully distorted” and demanded Governor Jared Polis (b 1975; governor (Democratic) of Colorado since 2019) immediately take it down.  In a post on his Truth Social platform, Mr Trump said: “Nobody likes a bad picture or painting of themselves, but the one in Colorado, in the State Capitol, put up by the Governor, along with all the other Presidents, was purposefully distorted to a level that even I, perhaps, have never seen before.  The artist also did President Obama and he looks wonderful, but the one on me is truly the worst. She must have lost her talent as she got older.  In any event, I would much prefer not having a picture than having this one, but many people from Colorado have called and written to complain. In fact, they are actually angry about it!  I am speaking on their behalf to the radical left Governor, Jared Polis, who is extremely weak on crime, in particular with respect to Tren de Aragua, which practically took over Aurora (Don’t worry, we saved it!), to take it down. Jared should be ashamed of himself!”

At the unveiling in 2019 it was well-received by the Republicans assembled.  If Fox News had an art critic (the Lord forbid), she would have approved but presumably that would now be withdrawn and denials issued it was ever conferred.  

Intriguingly, it was one of Mr Trump’s political fellow-travellers (Kevin Grantham (b 1970; state senator (Republican, Colorado) 2011-2019) who had in 2018 stated a GoFundMe page to raise the funds needed to commission the work, the US$10,000 pledged, it is claimed, within “a few hours”.  Ms Boardman’s painting mush have received the approval of the Colorado Senate Republicans because it was them who in 2019 hosted what was described as the “non-partisan unveiling event” when first the work was displayed hanging next to one of Mr Trump’s first presidential predecessor (Barack Obama (b 1961; US president 2009-2017), another of Ms Boardman’s commissions.  Whether or not it’s of relevance in the matter of now controversial portrait may be a matter for professional critics to ponder but on her website the artist notes she has “…always been passionate about painting portraits, being particularly intrigued by the depth and character found deeper in her subjects… believing the ultimate challenge is to capture the personality, character and soul of an individual in a two-dimensional format...”  Her preferred models “…are carefully chosen for their enigmatic personality and uniqueness...” and she admits some of her favorite subjects those “whose faces show the tracks of real life.”

Portrait of Winston Churchill (1954) by Graham Sutherland.

Another subject turned disappointed critic was Sir Winston Churchill.  In 1954, a committee, funded by the donation of a 1000 guineas from members of both houses of parliament, commissioned English artist Graham Sutherland (1903–1980) to paint a portrait of the prime minister to mark his 80^th birthday.  The two apparently got on well during the sittings, Churchill himself a prolific, if undistinguished, amateur painter (in 1948 he published the book Painting as a Pastime) and it’s said he enjoyed their discussions.  He was unimpressed though with the result, telling Sutherland that while he acknowledged his technical prowess, he found the work “not suitable”.  To his doctor he was less restrained, calling it "filthy" and "malignant".

Portrait of Laurence Olivier in the role of Richard III (1955) by Salvador Dalí.

It had been intended the painting would be hung in the House of Commons but Churchill had no intention of letting it be seen by anyone.  An unveiling ceremony had been arranged and Churchill demanded it not include the painting, relenting only when a compromise was arranged whereby both subject and artwork would appear together but rather than being hung in the Commons, it would instead be gifted to him to hang where he pleased.  Both sides appeased (if not pleased), the ceremony proceeded, Churchill making a brief speech of thanks during which he described his gift as “…a remarkable example of modern art..”, praise not even faint.  It was never hung, consigned unwrapped to the basement of the prime minister’s country house where it remained for about a year until Lady Churchill (Clementine, 1885–1977)), sharing her husband’s view of the thing, had a servant take it outside where it was tossed on a bonfire, an act of practical criticism Sutherland condemned as “vandalism”.  Not anxious to repeat the experience of his brush with modernism, Churchill declined the offer of a sitting before the Spanish surrealist Salvador Dalí (1904–1989), the result of which might have been interesting.  It's not known if Churchill ever saw Dali's interpretation of Laurence Olivier (1907-1989).

Two photographs of Winston Churchill (1941) by Yousuf Karsh.

Roosevelt’s pose is one favored by politicians but the expression adopted matters too.  The famous photograph taken in Ottawa in December 1941 by Armenian-Canadian Yousuf Karsh (1908-2002) was actually one of several but those where Churchill shows a more cheerful countenance are not remembered; they didn’t so well suit those troubled times.  The scowl, although immediately regarded as emblematic of British defiance of the Nazis, had a more prosaic origin, the photographer recalling his subject had appeared benign until it was insisted the ever-present Havana cigar be discarded lest it spoil the photograph.  That changed the mood but, the moment captured, he relented and permitted a couple more, including the now obscure ones with a smile.

Noose

Noose (pronounced noos)

(1) A loop with a running knot, as in a snare, lasso, or hangman's halter, that tightens as the rope is pulled; a device to restrain, bind, or trap.

(2) A tie or bond; snare.

(3) To secure by or as by a noose.

(4) To make a noose with or in (a rope or the like).

1400-1450: From the late Middle English nose (noose, loop), of unclear origin.  Etymologists have speculated it may be from the Old French nos or Old Occitan nous & nos (both forms known also in the descendent Provençal), the nominative singular or accusative plural of nou (knot), with the meaning shifting from the knot to the loop created by the knot, the French forms from the Latin nōdus (knot; node), from the primitive Indo-European root ned (to bind; to tie).  If that’s true, it was cognate with the French nœud (knot), the Portuguese nó (knot) and the Spanish nudo (knot).  The alternative etymology (which most authorities appear to find more convincing) is it was borrowed from Middle Low German nȫse (loop, noose, snare), also of obscure origin although it may have been derived from an incorrect division of ēn' ȫse (literally “a loop”), from the Middle Low German ȫse, from the Old Saxon ōsia, from the Proto-West Germanic ansiju (eyelet, loop).  It’s possible the Saterland Frisian Noose (loop, eyelet) & Oose (eyelet, loop) may have emerged from the same process.  In English, use of noose was rare prior to the early seventeenth century.  Although it’s a popular tale, it’s a myth a hangman’s noose always has 13 coils.  The old spelling nooze is long obsolete.  Noose is a noun & verb; nooser is a verb, nooselike & nooseless are adjectives and noosed & noosing are verbs; the noun plural is nooses.

The Nazis and the noose

Soviet cartoon Caricature of the defendants and the anticipated Nuremberg judgment (1946) by the Soviet artists known as the Kukryniksy: Porfiry Krylov (1902-1990), Mikhail Kupriyanov (1903-1991) & Nikolai Sokolov (1903-2000).  As the trial wore on, at least two of the defendants were recorded as requesting shirts with "larger collars" and one once removed his tie, explaining it was "suddenly feeling tight".

As a prelude to the main Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946) of the most notable or representative Nazis, the list of two-dozen-odd defendants was assembled to be indicted variously for (1) conspiracy to commit a crime against peace, (2) planning or waging wars of aggression, (3) war crimes and (4) crimes against humanity.  Even before the trial started it was known the International Military Tribunal (IMT) enjoyed capital jurisdiction (although in his opening remarks the president of the tribunal took care to explain the legal basis of their right to impose death sentences) and the court-appointed psychologist noted from his interviews with the accused that all expected the proceedings to be nothing more than a Stalinesque “show trial” with the death penalty inevitable for all, something the assurances of their (German) defense council seemed little to assuage.  As representatives from the world’s press (not yet called “the media”) began to arrive they were reported as mostly sharing the assumption and even as the trial unfolded and the defendants came to realize that for at least some of them there was the prospect of avoiding the noose or perhaps even securing an acquittal, the straw polls among the journalists still thought the death sentence likely for the majority.

Soviet cartoon The twelfth hour of the Hitlerites by Boris Efimov (1900-2008), from the series Fascist Menagerie, Izvestiia, 1 January 1946.

The prospect of imminent death is said “to focus the mind” and among the military defendants, all more than once expressed the opinion that as soldiers, they were entitled to execution by firing squad rather than by the hangman’s noose, the gallows too associated with the fate of common criminals (although one avoided that by having hanged himself (technically by act of strangulation) before the trial began.  In the end, of those present in the dock, 11 were sentenced to be hanged by the neck until dead, Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945 and Reichsmarschall 1940-1945) avoiding the indignity of the noose by committing suicide, poisoning himself on the eve of his scheduled execution in circumstances which have never been clear.  Another, Erich Raeder (1876–1960; head of the German Navy 1928-1943) lodged one of the more unusual appeals after being sentenced to life imprisonment, asking that he instead receive the death penalty, life in prison apparently a worse prospect than being hanged; his appeal was declined.  Many lurid stories about the botched nature of some of the hangings circulated in the post-war years but while some might not have caused instant death, it’s unlikely any took anything like the 17 minutes it was claimed some took to die.

Caricature of Rudolf Hess at Nuremberg (1946) by New Zealand-born UK cartoonist David Low (1891-1963).

The author Rebecca West (1892–1983) covered the trial as a journalist and wrote some vivid thumbnail sketches, noting: "Hess was noticeable because he was so plainly mad: so plainly mad that it seemed shameful that he should be tried.  His skin was ashen and he had that odd faculty, peculiar to lunatics, of falling into strained positions which no normal person could maintain for more than a few minutes, and staying fixed in contortion for hours. He had the classless air characteristic of asylum inmates; evidently his distracted personality had torn up all clues to his past.  He looked as if his mind had no surface, as if every part of it had been blasted away except the depth where the nightmares live."

The strangest case in so many ways was that of Rudolf Hess (1894–1987; Nazi Deputy Führer 1933-1941).  Before the proceedings formerly commenced, the tribunal had been considering discharging Hess because it seemed clear there was sufficient doubt his mental state was adequate to ensure a fair trial.  He went to trial only after making an extraordinary admission his display of amnesia had to that point been merely “tactical” and he was quite lucid and able to understand all that was going on; at the time, it was probably the trial's most sensational event.  He’d actually achieved the very thing sought by but denied to so many defendants yet he chose instead to be tried.  His conduct thereon was just as bizarre, declining to enter a plea (the court recorded “not guilty” as a formality), often preferring to read novels rather than follow the proceedings and when his sentence was announced, he claimed not to have listened, saying, apparently without much concern he assumed it was death.  Actually, he was sentenced to imprisonment for life and with six others entered Berlin’s Spandau Prison where he would remain until 1987 when, aged 93, he hanged himself, having fashioned a noose from a length of electrical cable.  For the last two decades, he was the sole inmate of the huge facility designed to accommodate hundreds and, having entered captivity in 1941 after his bizarre “peace mission” to Scotland, had by the time of his death been locked-up for 46 years.

Low’s take on the official German line explaining Hess deserting the German government as “madness”.  This cartoon does represent what was then the prevailing public perception of the typical behaviour expected of those in “lunatic asylums”.  Depicted (left to right) are:

Hermann Göring: Committed suicide by by crushing between his teeth an ampule of a potassium cyanide (KCN), smuggled into his cell in circumstances never confirmed, shortly before he was to be hanged after being convicted on all four counts ((1) Conspiracy to wage aggressive war; (2) Waging aggressive war; (3) War crimes and (4) crimes against humanity.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945): With his wife Eva Hitler (née Braun; 1912–1945) of a few hours, committed suicide (he by gunshot and KCN, she by KCN alone) with the tanks of the Red Army only a couple of blocks from the Berlin Führerbunker.

Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945): Committed suicide by hanging (by means of suffocation) himself in his cell in Nuremberg prior to the trial after for some years have made a reasonable attempt to drink himself to death.  He died with his underpants stuffed in his mouth.

Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945): Hanged at Nuremberg after being convicted on all four counts.

Dr Joseph Goebbels: With his wife (Magda Goebbels (née Ritschel; 1901-1945), committed suicide (by gunshot) in the courtyard above the Führerbunker, shortly after they’d murdered their six children.

Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945): Captured by the British while attempting to escape disguised as a soldier, he committed suicide using an ampule of (KCN) he’d concealed in his mouth.

Burberry’s hoodie with noose, 2019, (left) and Kylie Jenner wearing a Givenchy Noose Necklace, 2023.

Because of the association with suicide, slavery and the history of lynching in the century after the US Civil War (1861-1865), the noose can be a controversial thing if invoked in an insensitive way.  Controversy though is just another technique to be weaponized when there’s the need to generate publicity and in the fashion business, it’s no longer enough to just to design something elegant or otherwise pleasing to the eye because it will barely be noticed on the catwalk and probably won’t make the magazines or become clickbait.  Thus the temptation to try to shock which will guarantee the desired publicity, the added attraction being the certainty the will do its job then quickly subside.  The Givenchy Noose Necklace model Kylie Jenner (b 1997) wore in January 2023 at Paris Fashion Week had been see before, causing a bit of a stir on the catwalk in 2021 when it was used in the fashion house’s Spring/Summer 2022 show.  Then, on cue, The Guardian called it out as “blatantly offensive”, guaranteeing even wider coverage although Givenchy solved the short-term problem by responding to the paper’s request for a comment with an Élysée-like “The house does not have an official response on this”.  They may have learned that in such matters apologies probably make things worse from Burberry’s "We are deeply sorry for the distress caused by one of the products that featured in our Autumn/Winter 2019 collection”, issued after being condemned for showing a hoodie with a noose.

Mad

Mad (pronounced mad)

(1) Mentally disturbed; deranged; insane; demented.

(2) Enraged; greatly provoked or irritated; angry.

(3) As madman or (metaphorically) mad dog, a person abnormally furious; ferocious (and can be applied literally to animals (mad bull etc), especially dogs afflicted with rabies (a rabid dog).

(4) Extremely foolish or unwise; imprudent; irrational.

(5) Wildly excited or confused; frantic (often as “in mad haste”).

(6) Overcome by desire, eagerness, enthusiasm etc; excessively or uncontrollably fond of (usually) someone; infatuated; (often as “madly in love”).

(7) Wildly lively and merry; enjoyably hilarious.

(8) Of extremes in climatic conditions (of wind, storms, etc), furious in violence.

(9) An angry or ill-tempered period, mood, or spell.

(10) As MAD, the acronym for mutually assured destruction: a theory of nuclear warfare deterrence whereby each side in a conflict has the capacity to destroy the other in retaliation for a nuclear attack.

(11) The acronym for the Militärischer Abschirmdienst, a counterintelligence agency of the German military (essentially the successor to the old Abwehr (1920-1944)).

(12) The acronym, in admiralty administration, for the Maritime anomaly detection in Global Maritime Situational Awareness, for avoiding maritime collisions

(13) The acronym, in astronomy, for the Magnetic anomaly detector which detects variations in Earth's magnetic field.

(14) The acronym, in high-energy physics, for the Methodical Accelerator Design, a CERN scripting language used in particle acceleration.

Pre 900: From the Middle English mad (adjective) & madden (an intransitive verb, derived from the adjective), from the Old English gemǣd, past participle of gemǣdan (to make mad), akin to gemād (troubled in mind; demented, insane, foolish).  It was cognate with the Old Saxon gemēd, the Old Norse meitha (to hurt, damage) and the Old High German gimeit (foolish, silly, crazy).  In the Old English, gemǣded was the past participle of gemǣdan (to render insane).  As an adjective, the comparative is madder and the superlative maddest but the strangest adjectival form is probably the very English maddish, suggesting some state between displeased and actually mad.  The ultimate root of the Old English forms was the Germanic adjective gamaidaz (changed for the worse, abnormal), the element “maid” from the primitive Indo-European moi-, a variant of the root mei- & moi- (to change, exchange, go, move), extended with a dental suffix (-d in Germanic; -t elsewhere).  The same suffixed variant moit- appears in the Latin mūtāre (to change, exchange, give and receive in exchange), familiar in COVID-19-era English as mutate.  The Sicilian Greek (a fork by virtue of geography always most likely to be influenced by Latin) has the noun moîtos (thanks, favor, reward), presumably a borrowing from the Old Latin moitus.  Mad is an adjective, verb & adverb; madder & maddeningness are nouns, adjectives & verbs, maddest, maddish & maddening are adjectives, madly & maddeningly are adverbs and madden & maddens are verbs; the noun use of mad is non-standard.

The synonyms for mad exist in its four senses (1) lunatic, maniacal, psychotic, crazed, crazy, nuts, kooky, nutty, insane, (2) furious, exasperated, livid, raging, wrathful, irate, (3) ill-advised; unsafe, dangerous, perilous & (4) absurd, fantastic, delirious, wondrous.  There is much overlap in the synonyms, insane historically meant “not sane, mentally unstable” but is now popular with the Instagram generation as a general expression of approval and "bonkers", while still meaning “not sane, mentally unstable” also (except in the US) has come to be used in an entirely non-pejorative way to suggest something astonishing in the sense of something or someone verging on the irrational but in some way inspiring; absurd works in a similar way.

Bonkers: 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon 170.

Because it makes Greta Thunberg (b 2003) mad, the likes of the SRT Demon 170 won’t be seen again but an off-the-shelf machine which can generate 1,025 horsepower makes a fine swansong.  To make Ms Thunberg madder still, it’s noted the induction system is capable of providing more fuel flow per minute than the average US showerhead and in a nice touch the purchaser will receive a commemorative Demon 170 decanter set.  Thousand horsepower cars for the street have traditionally been the preserve of madmen but mad women should be encouraged to give one a try.   

The word appears often in idiomatic use including “mad as a March hare” which alluded to hares becoming especially active in spring their mating season; “mad as a meat axe”, an especially evocative piece of Australian slang which is self-explanatory to anyone who has seen an un-skilled operator use a meataxe on a carcass and “barking mad”, the origin of which is mysterious.  The best story links it with the existence of a medieval lunatic asylum in the grounds of the royal monastery Barking Abbey (located in what is now the London borough of Barking and Dagenham) but there’s no evidence of use before the early twentieth century and most etymologists have concluded there’s a link with the idea “mad dogs” incessantly bark.  The London slang use suggesting someone is “three stops past Barking” is thought to have be an opportunistic adoption referencing the “barking” and in the vein of something like “a picnic short of a sandwich” which suggests some degree of mental incapacity.  There was even “shorthand slang” based on this idea: were one to be called “daggers”, it meant one was “three stops past Barking”, Dagenham being three stations beyond Barking on the London Underground.

The original meaning of mad was “insane, demented, disturbed of mind”, a sense inherited with the word from the Germanic forms.  The progression in meaning seems to have begun circa 1300 when the senses (1) “mad dog” (dog afflicted with rabies (rabid)), (2) “foolish or unwise” and (3), “overcome by desire or eagerness” emerged; the meaning “enraged, angry” not recorded until circa 1400.  This sense of mad quickly became the usual colloquial term in the United States whereas “angry” long persisted as the popular form elsewhere in the English-speaking world although the increasing US cultural influence noted since the mid-twentieth century makes these distinctions probably less noticeable.  The sense “wildly lively, merry” is said to be an innovation of African-American English associated with jazz and dating from the 1940s.  For those learning English, “mad” must seem a strange word given the social difficulties engendered if one accidently mixes up being “mad about you” with “mad at you”.  So students should be given practical examples such as: "I am mad about him" (I would like to enjoy intimacy with him); "I am mad at him" (I am angry with him or I would like to kill him); "He is mad" (he appears mentally unstable).

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

Another thing for them to learn was that wad was one of those words listed as a class-identifier by Professor Alan Ross (1907-1980), Professor of Linguistics at the University of Birmingham who in 1954 coined "U" (upper-class) and "non-U" (non-Upper-Class) to describe the differences social class makes in their use of English.  While his article included differences in pronunciation and writing styles, it was his list of variations in vocabulary which attracted most interest.  One difference he noted was the upper-class call the obviously unstable “mad” whereas the lower classes tend to label them “mental”.  Professor Ross published his illustrative glossary "U" and "non-U", differentiating the speech patterns in English social classes, in a Finnish academic journal and used extracts from Nancy Mitford’s (1904–1973 and the oldest of the Mitford sisters, all but one of whom society's more conventional types were apt to label "mad") 1945 novel The Pursuit of Love to provide examples of the patterns of speech of the upper class.  This pleased Nancy Mitford who interpolated the professor’s work into an article about the English gentry she was writing for Stephen Spender's (1909-1995) literary magazine Encounter (1953-1990).  Although not best-pleased that her discussion of the Ross thesis was the only part of her piece to attract attention, more amusing was the subsequent re-publication in 1956 in her Noblesse Oblige: an Enquiry into the Identifiable Characteristics of the English Aristocracy which, augmented with contributions from John Betjeman (1906–1984) and Evelyn Waugh (1903–1966), meant that for decades she was the acknowledged authority on upper-class speech, manners and ways.  Her class-conscious readers had taken it all more seriously than she had intended.

been locked-up for 46 years.

Low’s take on the official German line explaining Hess deserting the German government as “madness”.  This cartoon does represent what was then the prevailing public perception of the typical behaviour expected of those in “lunatic asylums”.  Depicted (left to right) are:

Hermann Göring (1893–1946; leading Nazi 1922-1945, Hitler's designated successor & Reichsmarschall 1940-1945): Committed suicide by by crushing between his teeth an ampule of a potassium cyanide (KCN), smuggled into his cell in circumstances never confirmed, shortly before he was to be hanged after being convicted on all four counts ((1) Conspiracy to wage aggressive war; (2) Waging aggressive war; (3) War crimes and (4) crimes against humanity.

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945): With his wife Eva Hitler (née Braun; 1912–1945) of a few hours, committed suicide (he by gunshot and KCN, she by KCN alone) with the tanks of the Red Army only a couple of blocks from the Berlin Führerbunker.

Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945): Committed suicide by hanging (by means of suffocation) himself in his cell in Nuremberg prior to the trial after for some years have made a reasonable attempt to drink himself to death.  He died with his underpants stuffed in his mouth.

Joachim von Ribbentrop (1893–1946; Nazi foreign minister 1938-1945): Hanged at Nuremberg after being convicted on all four counts.

Dr Joseph Goebbels (1897-1975; Nazi propaganda minister 1933-1945): With his wife (Magda Goebbels (née Ritschel; 1901-1945), committed suicide (by gunshot) in the courtyard above the Führerbunker, shortly after they’d murdered their six children.

Heinrich Himmler (1900–1945; Reichsführer SS 1929-1945): Captured by the British while attempting to escape disguised as a soldier, he committed suicide using an ampule of (KCN) he’d concealed in his mouth.

On 10 May 1941, Hess, a skilled pilot, wholly on his own initiative, undertook a secret flight to Scotland where his plan was to negotiate an end to the hostilities between the UK and Germany.  This was only days before the German invasion of the Soviet Union (something of which Hess made no mention while being interrogated) and his motivation was to avoid what he (correctly) regarded as the major strategic mistake of confronting a two-front war.  The British government, interested only in the eradication of Nazism declined to negotiate and Hess was locked up, including for some two weeks enjoying the rare honor of being held in the tower of London.  News of Hess’s flight had sent shockwaves through the Nazi high command, then about to embark on the greatest invasion in history.

Rudolf Hess (left) and Adolf Hitler (right), Sturmabteilung (the SA (Storm Troopers, the Nazi Party's original paramilitary formation) parade, Nuremberg 11 September 1938; the car is a Mercedes-Benz 770K (W07, 1930–1938).

After for a while clinging to the hope his erstwhile deputy might have crashed into the ocean, Hitler, upon hearing the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) confirm the curious arrival on Scottish soil, made the sudden decision to issue a statement claiming Hess had gone mad, the consequence of injuries suffered during World War I (1914-1918) and falling under the influence of fortune tellers.  This was done without consulting the propaganda minister and Goebbels was aghast the regime had just admitted its deputy leader was a madman; he feared how the British would exploit the revelation, knowing what he’d do in their place.  However, aware through intelligence sources the invasion of Russia was nigh, the British had no wish to convey to Moscow the impression they were seeking to make peace with the Nazis and the bizarre business soon vanished from the news, coming to be known as a “nine day wonder”; the only one upon whom it appeared to leave a lasting impression was comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) who to his dying day remained suspicious elements in the UK were associated with the flight of the “motorized Parsifal”.

Hitler on a walk with Helga Goebbels (1932-1945), 1936.  She was Joseph Goebbels' oldest child.

The other immediate effect was the Nazis, in a typical reaction, organized a crackdown on the fortune tellers but in Berlin, the sardonic humor soon surfaced and a joke circulated in which Hess was taken to meet Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) who asked: “So you’re the madman?” to which he received the reply: “No, I’m only his deputy.”  Hess died by suicide in Spandau prison in 1987 after 46 years in captivity, outliving Göring (committed suicide in 1946 just before he was to be hanged for war crimes), Hitler (committed suicide in 1945 in the Berlin Führerbunker with the Red Army’s tanks only streets away), Ley (committed suicide in 1945 while under indictment as a war criminal), Himmler (committed suicide in 1945 after being arrested by the British), Goebbels (committed suicide in 1945 (with his wife) after they’d murdered their six children (aged between 4-12)) and von Ribbentrop (hanged in 1946 as a war criminal.

Until probably sometime in the nineteenth century, for all but a few specialists, the condition of madness was relatively simple: people were mad or sane and while it was noted one could become the other, once labeled as mad one was by most, probably always thought mad and the punchy succinctness of the word could produce a memorable phrase such as the one used by Lady Caroline Lamb (1785–1828) to describe her lover, Lord Byron (George Gordon Byron 1788–1824): "Mad, bad, and dangerous to know".  The only widely observed nuances were behavioral and that was because madness was an observational diagnosis; there were those who were mad, slightly mad, quite mad and barking mad, hardly clinically exact descriptors but it’s doubtful many misunderstood what was being conveyed.  Modernity’s advances in neurology and pharmacology allowed the creation of psychiatry which began to gain a grudging acknowledged respectability in the medical profession around the turn of the century and it been a growth industry since.  The American Psychiatric Association’s (APA) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), when first published (DSM-I, 1952) was a slim volume of 130 pages which listed 106 mental disorders but by the time the fifth edition (DSM-5, 2013) was released it had grown to 947 pages although interestingly, the number of specific diagnoses was reduced from 172 in DSM-IV (1987) to 157, something of an achievement given 15 new mental illnesses were added.  It is though bit of a definitional minefield and there are those who suggest that once deconstructed, there are really over 300 identifiable conditions, some of the official 157 categories better thought of as groups or clusters.  However the count is done, nobody is expecting DSM-6 to contain fewer pages, whatever method is used to define the conditions so it seems there must been more to madness than once convenient mad-sane binary.

How much the proliferation of diagnosed madness is mission-creep and how much better understanding is a debate, mostly outside the profession.  Some of it is certainly an attempt to secure market-share for the psychiatrists, some “conditions” once thought normal as part of the spectrum of the human condition now listed as a disorder to be referred for treatment and in some cases this is doubtlessly a good thing although quite how reassuring a diagnosis of “generalized anxiety disorder” (GAD) is for a patient may be questionable.  GAD may also be overkill, the psychoanalyst having long supplanted the priest for those who can afford the hourly-rate, market share seems well secured.

Some of Louis Wain's drawings of cats, all reputed to date from his time of incarceration in a mental hospital during the 1930s.

The English artist Louis Wain (1860–1939) was a noted painter of cats, sometimes naturalistic, sometimes stylized and often anthropomorphic.  In his sixties he was diagnosed with schizophrenia and confined to a series of mental institutions, settling eventually in Napsbury Hospital, north of London.  By the standards of the time it was a convivial place with a park and a colony of cats and while his condition worsened, the frequency of his psychotic episodes decreased but drawings of cats he continued to produce became increasingly abstract, intricate and bizarre.  After 1930, he would never again leave Napsbury and there, in 1939, he died aged 78.  For a long time his paintings of cats have been used to illustrate an artist's descent into madness, a theme popular in those circles in which the notion of the "disturbed genius" is a cult.  However, the thesis has been questioned, notably on the technical ground of chronology; being undated, it can't be guaranteed the sequence of drawings as they're usually assembled are an accurate lineal progression of his work and doubt has been case even on the diagnosis of schizophrenia, some speculating the then not well understood medication used in the era to treat the condition may have contributed to his symptoms.