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

Friday, May 10, 2024

Harbinger

Harbinger (pronounced hahr-bin-jer)

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

(2) An inn-keeper (obsolete)

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

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

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

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

Death and Destruction

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

The fame anon thurgh toun is born
How Alla kyng shal comen on pilgrymage,
By herbergeours that wenten hym biforn

A modern translation of which is:

The news through all the town was carried,
How King Alla would come on pilgrimage,
By harbingers that went before him

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

I grew. Foul weather, dreams, forebodings
Were bearing me - a Ganymede -
Away from earth; distress was growing
Like wings - to spread, to hold, to lead.
 
I grew. The veil of woven sunsets
At dusk would cling to me and swell.
With wine in glasses we would gather
To celebrate a sad farewell,
 
And yet the eagle's clasp already
Refreshes forearms' heated strain.
The days have gone, when, love, you floated
Above me, harbinger of pain.
 
Do we not share the sky, the flying?
Now, like a swan, his death-song done,
Rejoice! In triumph, with the eagle
Shoulder to shoulder, we are one.

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

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

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

Monday, September 16, 2024

Sqound

Sqound (pronounced skwu-kuhl)

An object in the shape of a square with rounded corners.

1990s: The word was coined by a person or persons unknown to distinguish between the (round) taillights used on (most) C4 Chevrolet Corvettes between 1983-1989 and those built subsequently (1990-1996), the construct being sq(uare) + (r)ound).  Square was from the Middle English square, sqware & squyre, from the Old French esquarre & esquerre, (which endures in modern French as équerre), from the Vulgar Latin exquadra, the construct being ex- (the prefix used as an intensive) +‎ quadro (four cornered; make square), from quadrus (square).  It displaced fēowerecge (four-edged).  Round was from the Middle English round & rounde, from the Old Northern French roünt & rund & the Old French ront, runt & reont (which endures in modern French as rond), from the Late Latin retundus & the Classical Latin rotundus.  The noun developed partly from the adjective and partly from the corresponding French noun rond.  Sqound is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is sounds.

1993 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1.

Perhaps the ultimate “niche word”, the only known use is among members of the “C4 ‘Vette cult” (those devoted to the fourth series (C4) Chevrolet Corvette, 1984-1996).  It seems first to have been used as an adjective to describe the then unique taillights fitted to the Corvette ZR1 (1990-1995), released at the 1989 Geneva Motor Show.  Although an obvious visual clue, the ZR1 attracted most attention by its use of an all-aluminium, 350 cubic inch (5.7 litre; LT5) V8 which featured double overhead camshafts (DOHC) and 32 valve heads.  Although the 350 cubic inch displacement was shared with the mainstream small-block Chevrolet V8s, so different was it in terms of construction and internal dimensions that the Corvette community (a priesthood with very firm views) regard it as something separate from the long-running (1954-2003 in production vehicles but still available as a "crate engine") small-block V8 family.  The engine was a co-development between Chevrolet and the UK-based Lotus Group which General Motors (GM, Chevrolet’s parent corporation) had acquired in 1986 (maintaining ownership until 1993) and was intended for use in a Corvette which could be marketed as the “world's fastest production car” (GM defining what constituted “production”); the V8 was given the internal designation LT5.  Although in the mid-1980s electronic engine management systems were still in their infancy, the LT5 did feature some genuine innovations in its fuel management, enabling the combustion chamber design to be optimized for power without this imposing the usual compromises in drivability at lower speeds.  Assembly of the (relatively) low-volume LT5 was sub-contracted to Mercury Marine which had long experience of the materials used in the construction.

LT5 V8 in 1990 (believed built in 1989) Chevrolet Corvette ZR1, one of 25 GM R&D (research & development) prototypes built to test the active-suspension system.

Perhaps of greater significance to GM was the expertise Lotus possessed in chassis design & tuning although the Corvette was a very different machine to the smaller, lighter cars with which Lotus had built their reputation, encapsulated by the philosophy of company founder Colin Chapman (1928–1982): “Simplify, then add lightness”.  Historically, that idea was most “un-Corvette” like and despite the aluminium engine block and heads, the ZR1 did emerge from development weighing some 200 lb (91 kg) more than the typical C4 Corvette, the additional heft the consequence of weightier components needed to support the greater speed and lateral forces made possible by the additional power and cornering capability.  On the road, the Lotus influence was certainly felt, the ZR1’s limits of adhesion as impressive as the then impressively wide (315-35 x 17 inch) tyres would suggest.  Befitting its role, the ZR1 was offered only as a coupé with a removable roof panel (no convertibles were produced) and as well as the wider wheels, it was distinguished from the rest of the range by a widened tail section with a convex rear fascia housing four “squond” taillights, the first time since the 1961 models anything but four round units had appeared on a production Corvette.

1987 Chevrolet Corvette with the round taillights used between 1984-1990 (left) and 1993 Chevrolet Corvette ZR1 with sqounds.

The ZR1 was much admired although not all approved of the squonds.  However, Chevrolet’s stylists must have liked them because in 1990 the convex fascia and squonds were standardized across the range, presumably pleasing the accountants who probably never saw the point of producing two different moldings which fulfilled the same function.  Why the C4 cultists settled on “sqound” isn’t known but it’s likely to have been something which just “came to someone” searching for a word to describe a shape which was neither quite round or square; within the cult there is (as far as in known), no “linguistics & etymology” committee.  In 1990, there was no world wide web and the internet was almost unknown outside of universities and places like the Pentagon so it wasn’t as if Google was there to answer the question.  Had search engines been available, it’s likely sqound might never have been coined because the word “quartic” quickly (as least as quickly as a 2400 kbit/s modem on a dial-up connection permitted) would have been unearthed.

1960 Plymouth Fury four-door hardtop (left), 1974 Austin Allegro 1750 Sport Special (centre) and 2024 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 coupé (right).

Once a technical term in the arcane world of algebra and thus known to only a few, "quartic" first gained a larger audience in 1973 when, to general derision, British Leyland (BL) released the Austin Allegro, complete with a steering wheel which was “not quite round and not quite square".  Explaining it was chosen to afford the diver greater leg-room and provide a better view of the instruments, BL revealed the shape was “quartic”.  The idea actually wasn’t novel, dating back decades and had been used on quite a few American cars during the early 1960s but for whatever reasons, the presence of one in the Allegro attracted little but criticism, something the rest of the vehicle would soon suffer.  BL also attracted the scorn of mathematicians who hastened to point out a quartic is “an algebraic equation or function of the fourth degree or a curve describing such an equation or function” insisting the correct description for a "square with rounded corners" is “squircle” (in algebraic geometry "a closed quartic curve having properties intermediate between those of a square and a circle"), the construct being squ(are) +c(ircle).  Few etymologists (and certainly no lexicographers) appear to have listed sqound as a "real" word but it's of interest because as a rare example in English of a word where a "q" is not followed by a "u"; such constructs do exist but usually in the cases where initialisms have become acronyms such as Qantas (Queensland and Northern Territory Aerial Services).  Such words do appear in English language texts but they tend to be foreign borrowings including (1) qat (or khat) (a plant native to East Africa and the Arabian Peninsula, often chewed for its stimulant effects), (2) qi (a term from Chinese philosophy referring to life force or energy), qibla (the direction Muslims face when praying (towards the Kaaba in Mecca)) and (4) qiviut (the soft under-wool of the musk-ox, valued when making warm clothing).  For a while, BL pretended to ignore the geometry pedants but within a year replaced the wheel with a conventional circular design.  Whatever the name, variations of the shape have since become popular with high-end manufacturers, Ferrari, Aston-Martin, Lamborghini and others all pursuing non-circular themes and one is a feature of the latest (C8) mid-engined Chevrolet Corvette, in which, unlike the unfortunate Allegro, it's much admired.

The antipodean Edsel: 1973 Leyland P76 Super V8 (left) and 1974 Leyland Force 7V (right).  Only 10 of the prototype Force 7V coupés survived the crusher but although it offered the novelty of a hatchback, the styling was ungainly and the very market segment for which it was intended was close to extinction.  Even had the range survived beyond 1974, success would have been improbable although the company should be commended for having intended to name the luxury version the Tour de Force (from the French and translated literally as "feat of strength"), the irony, in retrospect, charming.     

Although 1973 was the last “good year” for the “old” UK economy and one during which British Leyland was looking to the future with some optimism, the corporation’s troubles that year with steering wheels were, in retrospect, a harbinger for what lay ahead.  In addition to the Allegro, also introduced in 1973, on the other side of the planet, was the P76, a large (then a “compact” in US terms) sedan which Leyland Australia hoped would be competitive with the then dominant trio, GMH’s (General Motors Holden) Holden, Ford’s Falcon and Chrysler’s Valiant, the previous attempts using modified variants of UK models less than successful.  Leyland at the time kept expectations low, claiming the target was nothing more than a 10% market share and the initial reception the P76 received suggested this might more than be realized, the consensus of press reports concluding the thing was in many aspects at least as good as the opposition and in some ways superior, the country’s leading automotive that year awarding the V8 version the coveted COTY (Car of the Year) trophy.  Unfortunately, the circumstances of 26 June 1973 when the P76 was launched didn’t last, the first oil crisis beginning some four months later which resulted in a spike in the price of oil which not only suddenly dampened demand for larger cars but also triggered what was then the most severe and longest-lasting recession of the post-war years.  Basic design flaws in the body engineering and indifferent quality control contributed to the debacle which is now remembered as the Australian industry’s Edsel and in October 1974 production of the P76 ended and Leyland closed its Australian manufacturing facilities, never to re-open.

1973 P76 with the original sharp-edged steering wheel (left) and the later version, designed for the Force 7 (right).  The P76's steering wheel was one of many flaws which were planned to be rectified (or at least ameliorated) in the "facelifted" version scheduled for 1975 but before the end of 1974 the decision had been taken in London to axe the entire Leyland Australia project.    

Given the geo-political situation, rampant inflation and troubled industrial relations of the time, the P76’s steering wheel is really just a footnote in the sad tale but, like the Allegro’s “quartic” venture it was emblematic of the self-inflicted injuries to which Leyland would subject itself, both in the UK and its antipodean offshoot.  When the P76 made its debut in 1976, there was some comment that the steering wheel’s boss had a horn-pad in the shape of a boomerang, emphasizing the Australian connection but what was criticized was the rim which had a bizarre, concave cross-section, meaning a quite sharp edge faced the driver, leaving an impression on the palms of the hands after only a few minutes driving; it wasn't comfortable and those selling steering wheel covers did good business.  The industry legend is the shape was a consequence of the typist (in 1973 it was SOP (standard operational procedure) to blame women whenever possible) who prepared the final specification-sheet having mixed up “concave” & “convex” but even if that’s true it’s remarkable the obvious flaw in the design wasn’t rectified at the prototype stage.  Some have doubted the veracity of the story but such things do happen.  On 23 September, 1999, NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) lost the US$125 million Mars Climate Orbiter spacecraft after its 286-day journey to Mars and that was a time when US$125 million was still a lot of money.  There was of course the inevitable review which found the craft’s directional thrusters had, over the course of several months, been incorrectly fired because the control data had been calculated in incorrect units.  The contractor Lockheed Martin (responsible for the calculations) was sending data in Imperial measures (pounds) to NASA, while NASA's navigation team, expecting metric units, interpreted the numbers as Newtons).  As far as is known, neither the contractor nor the agency attempted to blame a typist.

Picture of Lindsay Lohan in sqound frame (frame by Hanna Zasimova) (left) and sqound headlight surrounds on 1971 VG Chrysler Valiant VIP (right).  Passing usually unnoticed, sqounds are all around us although the mathematicians insists the shape is neither a sqound nor a quartic but a squircle.

Friday, September 20, 2024

Bubbletop

Bubbletop (pronounced buhb-uhl-top)

(1) In aircraft design, a design of pilot’s canopy (originally military slang for what designers dubbed the “bubble canopy”, a Perspex molding which afforded exceptional outward visibility).

(2) An automobile using a transparent structure over the passenger compartment, replacing the usual combination of roof & windows.

(3) A descriptor of certain automobiles of the early 1960s, based on the shape rather than the method of construction, the conventional metal and glass used.

1940s: The construct was bubble +‎ top.  Bubble dates from the late fourteenth century and was from the Middle English noun bobel which may have been from the Middle Dutch bubbel & bobbel and/or the Low German bubbel (bubble) and Middle Low German verb bubbele, all thought to be of echoic origin.  The related forms include the Swedish bubbla (bubble), the Danish boble (bubble) and the Dutch bobble.  Top pre-dates 1000 and was from the Middle English top, toppe & tope (top, highest part; summit; crest; tassel, tuft; (spinning) top, ball; a tuft or ball at the highest point of anything), and the Old English top & toppa (top, summit, tuft of hair), from the Proto-West Germanic topp, from the Proto-Germanic tuppaz (braid, pigtail, end), of unknown origin.  It was cognate with the Old Norse toppr (top), the Scots tap (top), the North Frisian top, tap & tup (top), the Saterland Frisian Top (top), the West Frisian top (top), the Dutch top (top, summit, peak), the Low German Topp (top), the German Zopf (braid, pigtail, plait, top), the Swedish topp (top, peak, summit, tip) and the Icelandic toppur (top).  Alternative forms are common; bubble-top in automotive & aeronautical engineering and bubble top in fashion.  Bubbletop is a noun and bubbletopped is an adjective; the noun plural is bubbletops.

Evolution of the Mustang's bubbletop: P-51C (top), P-51 III (centre) and P-51D (bottom).

“Bubbletop” began as World War II (1939-1945) era military slang for officially was described as the “bubble canopy”, the transparent structure sitting atop the cockpit of fighter aircraft, the advantages being (1) superior visibility (the purest interpretation of the design affording an unobstructed, 360° field-of-view, (2) improved aerodynamics, (3) easier cockpit ingress & egress (of some significance to pilots force to parachute and (4), weight reduction (in some cases).  Bubbletops had been seen on drawing boards in the early days of aviation and some were built during World War I (1914-1918) but it was the advent of Perspex and the development of industrial techniques suitable for the creation of large, variably-curved moldings which made mass-production practical.  The best known early implementations were those added to existing air-frames including the Supermarine Spitfire, Republic P-47 Thunderbolt and North American P-51 Mustang.  By 1943, the concept had become the default choice for fighter aircraft and the technology was applied also to similar apparatuses used elsewhere on the fuselage where they were styled usually as “blisters”.  In the post war years it extended to other types, most dramatically in the Bell 47 helicopter where the cabin was almost spherical, some 70% of the structure clear Perspex.

The enormous and rapid advances in wartime aeronautics profoundly influenced designers in many fields and nowhere was that more obvious than in the cars which began to appear in the US during the 1950s.  Elements drawn variously from aeronautics and ballistics did appear in the first generation of genuinely new post-war models (most of what was offered between 1945-1948 being barely revised versions of the 1942 lines) but it was in the next decade the designers were able to embrace the jet-age (a phrase which before it referred to the mass-market jet-airline travel made possible by the Boeing 707 (which entered commercial service in 1958) was an allusion to military aircraft, machines which during the Cold War were a frequent sight in popular culture).  On motif the designers couldn’t resist was the bubble canopy, something which never caught on in mass-production although Perspex roofed cars were briefly offered before word of their unsuitability for use in direct sunlight became legion.

GM Firebird XP-21 (Firebird I, 1953).

Not content with borrowing the odd element from aircraft, the General Motors (GM) team decided the best way to test which concepts were adaptable from sky to road was to “put wheels on a jet aircraft” and although they didn’t do that literally, by 1953 when Firebird XP-21 was first displayed, it certainly looked as though it was exactly that.  Its other novelty was it was powered by a gas turbine engine, the first time a major manufacturer in the US had built such a thing although a number of inventors had produced their own one-offs.  When the XP-21 (re-named Firebird I for the show circuit) made its debut, some in the press referred to it as a “prototype” but GM never envisaged it as the basis for a production car, being impractical for any purpose other than component-testing; it should thus be thought of as a “test-bed”.  The bubble canopy looked as if it could have come from a US Air Force (UFAF) fighter jet and would have contributed to the aerodynamically efficiency, the 370 hp (280 kW), fibreglass-bodied Firebird I said to be capable of achieving 200 mph (320 km/h) although it’s believed this number came from slide-rule calculations and was never tested.  Despite that, in its day the Firebird II made quite a splash and a depiction of it sits atop the trophy (named after the car’s designer, Harley Earl (1893–1969), the long time head of GM’s styling studio) presented each year to the winner of NASCAR’s (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) premiere event, the Daytona 500.

GM Firebird II (1956).

Compared with its predecessor, the Firebird II (1956), rendered this time in titanium was almost restrained, the Perspex canopy a multi-part structure over a passenger compartment designed to seat “a family of four”.  The family might have chosen to drive mostly in darkness because the heat build-up under the midday sun would have tested the “individually-controlled air conditioning”, a system upon which comfort depended because the Perspex sections were fixed; there were no opening “windows”.  Still, even if hot, the family would have got places fast because the same 200 mph capability was claimed.

GM Firebird III (1958).

The Firebird III was displayed at the 1958 Motorama and although GM never built any car quite like it, within a season, elements of it did begin to appear on regular production models in showrooms (notably the rear skegs which Cadillac used for a couple of years) and some of its features are today standard equipment in even quite modest vehicles.  The striking “double bubbletop” never made the assembly lines although some race cars have at least partially implemented the concept.  What proved more of a harbinger was the specification, the Firebird III fitted with anti-lock brakes, cruise control, air conditioning, an automated “accident avoidance system” and instead of a steering wheel, the driver controlled the thing with a joystick, installed in a centrally-mounted “Unicontrol & Instrument Panel”.  All these were analogue-era electro-mechanical devices too bulky, fragile or expensive for mass production, wider adoption in the decades to come made possible by integrated circuits (IC) and micro-processors.

1959 Cadillac Cyclone (XP-74).

Borrowing from the Firebird II, Cadillac also used a bubble top for the Cyclone (XP-74) concept car which in 1959 toured the show circuit.  Although it was powered by the corporation’s standard 390 cubic inch (6.5 litre) V8, there was some adventurous engineering including a rear-mounted automatic transaxle and independent rear suspension (using swing axles, something not as bad as it sounds given the grip of tyres at the time) but few dwelt long on such things, their attention grabbed by features such as the bubble top (this time silver coated for UV (ultra violet) protection) which opened automatically in conjunction with the electrically operated sliding doors.  The Perspex bubble canopies from fighter aircraft never caught on for road or race cars but so aerodynamically efficient was the shape it found several niches.

1953 Ferrari F166MM Spider by Vignale (left) and 1968 MGCGT (centre & right).

Bubbles often appeared atop the hood (bonnet) to provide clearance for components inconveniently tall.  Most were centrally located (there was the occasional symmetrical pair) but the when BMH (British Motor Holdings, the old  BMC (British Motor Corporation) shoehorned their big, heavy straight-six into the MGB (1963-1980), it wouldn’t fit under the bonnet, the problem not the cylinder head but the tall radiator so the usual solution of a “bonnet bulge” was used.  However, for that to clear the forward carburetor, the bulge would have been absurdly high so a small bubble (and usually, ones this size are referred to as "blisters") was added.  It probably annoyed some there wasn’t a matching (fake) one on the other side but it’s part of the MGC’s charm, a quality which for years most found elusive although it’s now more appreciated.  For MGC owners wish to shed some weight or for MGB owners who like the look, the “bonnet with bubble” is now available in fibreglass.

The winning Ford GT40 Mark IV (J-Car) with bubble to the right, Le Mans 1967 (left) and the after-market (for replicas) “Gurney Bubble” (right).

US racing driver Dan Gurney (1931–2018) stood 6' 4" (1.9 m) tall which could be accommodated in most sports cars and certainly on Formula One but when he came to drive the Ford GT40 Mark IV it was found he simply didn’t fit when wearing his crash helmet.  The original GT40 (1964) gained its name from the height being 40 inches (1016 mm) but Mark IV (the “J-Car”, 1966) was lower still at 39.4 inches (1,000 mm).  Gurney was the tallest ever to drive the GT40 and the solution sounds brutish but fix was effected elegantly, a “bubble added to the roof to clear the helmet.  Gurney and AJ Foyt (b 1935) drove the GT40 to victory in the 1967 Le Mans 24-hour endurance classic and the protrusion clearly didn’t compromise straight-line speed, the pair clocked at 213 mph (343 km’h), on the famous 3.6-mile Mulsanne Straight (which was a uninterrupted 3.6 miles (5.8 km) until the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the FIA; the International Automobile Federation and world sport’s dopiest regulatory body) imposed two “chicanes”),  Known ever since as the “Gurney Bubble”, such is the appeal that they’re now available for any GT40 replica: Like the AC Shelby Cobra, the GT40 “reproduction” industry is active and there are many times more of these than there are survivors of 105 originals.

Ferrari 250 GT “Tour de France” LWB Berlinettas by Zagato: The “double bubble” roof (left), the Hofmeister kink (centre) and the famous “Z” kink, (right).

The Italian coachbuilding house Zagato was founded in 1919 by Ugo Zagato (1890-1968) and since the early post-war years, their designs have sometimes been polarizing (the phrase “acquired taste” sometimes seen), their angularity often contrasted with the lines of other, notably Pinninfarina and Bertone but unlike many which have over the years folded, Zagato remains active still.  One Zagato design never criticized was his run in 1956 of five Ferrari 250 GT “Tour de France” LWB Berlinettas, memorable also for introducing the signature “Zagato double-bubble roof.  The roof was practical in that it better accommodated taller occupants but it really was a visual trick and a variation on the trick Mercedes-Benz used on the Pagoda” (W113; 230, 250 & 280 SL; 1963-1971) which they explained by saying “We didn’t lower the roof, we rained the windows”.  The other famous feature (which appeared on only one) was the fetching “Z” shape on the rear pillar, replacing the “Hofmeister kink” used on some others.

1962 Chevrolet Impala “bubbletop” Sport Coupe (left), 1963 Ford Consul Capri (centre) and 1972 BMW 3.0CS (E9, right).

The 1959 Chevrolet quickly came to be nicknamed “bubbletop” and the style spread, both within GM and beyond.  The “bubbletop” reference was to the canopy on aircraft like the P-51D Mustang but was an allusion to the shape, not the materials used; on cars things were done in traditional glass and metal.  Across the Atlantic, Ford in the UK applied the idea to their Consul Capri (1961-1964), a two-door hardtop which the company wanted to be thought of as a “co-respondent's” car (ie the sort of rakish design which would appeal to the sort of chap who slept with other men’s wives, later to be named as “co-respondent” in divorce proceedings).  The Capri was a marketplace failure and the styling was at the time much criticized but it’s now valued as a period piece.  Chevrolet abandoned the look on the full-size cars after 1963 but it was revived for the second series Corvair (1965-1969).  A fine implementation was achieved in the roofline of the BMW E9 (1968-1975) which remains the company’s finest hour.

The bubble shirt and bubble tops.

The bubble skirt (worn by Lindsay Lohan (centre)) is one of those garments which seems never to quite die, although there are many who wish it would.  Once (or for an unfortunate generation, twice) every fashion cycle (typically 10-12 years), the industry does one of its "pushes" and bubble skirts show up in the high street, encouraged sometimes by the odd catwalk appearance; it will happen again.  While the dreaded bubble skirt is easily identifiable, the “bubble top” is less defined but there seem to be two variations: (1) a top with a “bubble skirt-like” appendage gathering unhappily just above the hips (left) and (2) a kind of “boob tube” which, instead of being tightly fitted is topped with an additional layer of material, loosely gathered.  The advantages of the latter (which may be thought of as a “boob bubble”) are it can (1) without any additional devices create the illusion of a fuller bust and (2) allow a strapless bra to be worn, something visually difficult with most boob tubes because the underwear’s outline is obvious under the tight material.

Thursday, October 17, 2024

Slant

Slant (pronounced slant or slahnt)

(1) A surface, structure, line etc at a slope or in an oblique direction.

(2) In (US) football, an offensive play in which the ball-carrier runs toward the line of scrimmage at an angle (known also as the “slant-in”, a pass pattern in which a receiver cuts diagonally across the middle of the field).

(3) In prosody, as “slant rhyme”, a synonym for the “half rhyme”, “near rhyme” & “quasi-rhyme” (a form of imperfect rhyme in which the final (coda) consonants of stressed syllables (and, in modern English poetry, any following syllables to the end of the words) are identical in sound, but the vowels of the stressed syllables are not.

(4) In typography, a synonym of slash (/, particularly in its use to set off pronunciations from other text (not used in IT where the distinctions are between the forward-slash (/) and the back-slash (\) which nerds call respectively the slash and the slosh.

(5) In biology, a sloping surface in a culture medium.

(6) In hydro-carbon extraction, as “slant drilling”, a technique in which the drilling is undertaken at an oblique angle rather than the traditional vertical orientation.

(7) In extractive mining, as type of run in which a heading is driven diagonally between the dip and strike of a coal seam.

(8) In informal use, a glance or look.

(9) To veer or angle away from a given level or line, especially from a horizontal; slope (in to incline, to lean).

(10) Figuratively, to have or be influenced by a subjective point of view, bias, personal feeling or inclination etc (often as “slant towards”, “slanted view” etc); a mental leaning, bias, or distortion (“feminist slant”, “MAGA slant”, “liberal slant”, “business slant” et al).

(11) To cause to slope.

(12) Figuratively, to distort information by rendering it unfaithfully or incompletely, especially in order to reflect a particular viewpoint (more generously sometimes described as “spin” or “massaged”).  The concept is known also as “angle journalism” (the particular mood or vein in which something is written, edited, or published).  In Scots English, the meaning “to lie or exaggerate” captures the flavor.  When used to describe the composing, editing, or publishing of something to attract the interest of a specific sub-group (a “slanted” story), “slanted towards” is necessarily pejorative if used only to suggest something optimized to appeal to a certain market segment or demographic (ie it’s more like “aimed at” or “intended for”).

(13) In slang, as “slant eye” (a racial slur now listed as disparaging & offensive), a reference to people from the Far East (applied historically mostly to the Chinese & Japanese), based on the shape of the eyes.  The variants included “slit eye”, “slitty-eyed” & “slopehead”, all equally offensive and now proscribed.

(14) In painting (art) a pan with a sloped bottom used for holding paintbrushes; a depression on a palette with a sloping bottom for holding and mixing watercolors; a palette or similar container with slants or sloping depressions.

(15) In US regional slang, a sarcastic remark; shade, an indirect mocking insult (archaic).

(16) In US slang, an opportunity, particularly to go somewhere (now rare).

(17) In historic Australian colonial slang, a crime committed for the purpose of being apprehended and transported to a major settlement.

Circa 1480s: From the Middle English –slonte or -slonte, both aphetic (in phonetics, linguistics & prosody, “of, relating to, or formed by aphesis” (the loss of the initial unstressed vowel of a word)) variants of aslant, thought to be of Scandinavian origin.  The other influence was probably the earlier dialectical slent, from the Old Norse or another North Germanic source and cognate with the Old Norse slent, the Swedish slinta (to slip) and the Norwegian slenta (to fall on the side), from the Proto-Germanic slintaną (which, in turn, was probably in some way linked with aslant.  Slant & slanting are nouns, verbs & adjectives, slanted is a verb & adjective, slantish is an adjective, slantwise is an adjective & adverb and slantingly & slantly are adverbs; the noun plural is slants.  The pleasing adjective slantendicular is listed by some as non-standard and presumably is proscribed in geometry and mathematics because it's an oxymoron; it’s a portmanteau word, the construct being slant + (perp)endicular.  It may be useful however in commerce or engineering where it might be used to describe something like a tool with a shaft which at some point assumes an oblique or skewed angle.   So it’s there to be used and slantindicular should be applied to stuff which is neither wholly nor fully slanted and in architecture, such structures are numerous.  In commerce, it could be used as a noun.

The noun slant by the 1650s was used to mean “an oblique direction or plane” and began in geography & civil engineering (of landforms, notably ski-slopes), developed from the verb or its adjective.  The now familiar (in the Fox News sense) meaning “way of regarding something, a mental bias” dates from 1905 while the derogatory slang sense of “a person of Asian appearance” came into use some time in the 1940s, a direct descendent from the earlier "slant-eyes", documented since 1929.  The verb slant is documented since the 1520s in the sense of “obliquely to strike (against something)”, an alteration the late thirteenth century slenten (slip sideways), the origin of which is murky but etymologists have concluded it came (via a Scandinavian source (noting the Swedish slinta (to slip)) and the Norwegian slenta (to fall on one side), from the Proto-Germanic slintanan.  The intransitive sense of “to slope, to lie obliquely” was in use by the 1690s, while the transitive sense of “to give a sloping direction to” had emerged by the early nineteenth century.  As early as the late fifteenth century forms were in use as an adverb, the adjectival use attested from the 1610s.  The technical use in literary theory as “poetic slant rhyme” was first used in the mid 1920s (assonance or consonance) although such lines had appeared for centuries, used sometimes deliberately as a device, sometimes not.  In the following stanza by English poet Peter Redgrove (The Archaeologist, published in Dr Faust's Sea-Spiral Spirit (1972)), the second and third lines contain a form of slant rhyme while the first and fourth have pure rhymes:

So I take one of those thin plates
And fit it to a knuckled other,
Carefully, for it trembles on the edge of powder,
Restore the jaw and find the fangs their mates.

Slanted right: You are watching Fox.

While it’s unlikely volumes of the poetry of Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) sit upon the bookshelves of those members of the Fox News audience who have bookshelves, they likely would concur with her words: “Tell the truth but tell it slant.  Slanted reporting” has become something which in recent years has attracted much attention (and much hand-wringing by the usual suspects) as an increasingly polarization of positions has been alleged to be a feature of political discourse in the West.  There is little doubt the effect (as reported) is obvious but there’s some debate about both the mechanics and the implications of the phenomenon.  As long ago as 2018, a study found that although the tenor and volume of things on X (formerly known as Twitter) was found to be increasingly toxic and surging, the number of active users engaged in these political polemics was found to be tiny and their effect was distorted by (1) the huge number of tweets they tended to post, (2) the propensity of their fellow-travelers to re-tweet and (3) the use of bots which were more prolific still.  If anything, recent voting patterns suggest it would seem the views of the general population appear to be trending away from the extremes towards the more centralist positions offered by independents or small-parties, something most obvious in Australia where compulsory voting exists.  Outfits like Fox News offer a slanted take on just about everything (and promote country & western music which truly is inexcusable) but this is something which has been identifiable in the news media as long as it’s existed and their blatant bias is hardly subversive or threatening, simply because it is so blatant.  What was most interesting in what emerged from the recent defamation suit filed by Dominion Voting Systems against Fox News suggested the network’s stance on things was motivated more by the financial imperative than ideological purity.  Intriguingly, what some analysts concluded was that if the universe shifted and the Fox News audience transformed into a bunch of seed-eating hippies, there would follow Fox’s editorial position, the slant being towards the advertising revenue rather than a particular world view.  Of course, there are some slants which are unalterable and dictated by ideological purity but with commercial media, it’s likely sometimes cause is confused with effect.

The New Statesman, 14-20 June 2024: A publication with a leftist slant depicting the European right, slanted to the right.

Founded in 1913 by Sidney (1859–1947) & Beatrice Webb (1858–1943) with patronage from George Bernard Shaw (GBS; 1856-1950) and other worthies from the socialist Fabian Society.  Its circulation was at its highest during the high-water mark of British socialism under Harold Wilson (1916–1995; UK prime minister 1964-1970 & 1974-1976) but, now with print and digital editions in the common manner, it has survived and while unashamedly left-wing (the editorial boards preferring terms like “progressive” & “liberal”), it also has an emphasis on culture and literature, a mix similar to The Spectator (right) and The Economist (centre-right).  Unlike the Spectator which picks up readers from across the spectrum because the often punchy writing attracts (as well as those who read it on the basis of "know thy enemy"), the published surveys suggest The New Statesman's readership tends to be from the left.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa (left) and Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap (1998) in front of London’s perpendicular Big Ben (1859) (right).  The architect’s original name for the latter was a typically succinct “Clock Tower”, chosen because it housed the “Great Bell of the Great Clock of Westminster” but it was in 2012 renamed “Elizabeth Tower”, marking the Diamond Jubilee of Elizabeth II (1926-2022; Queen of the UK and other places, 1952-2022), something little noted by Londoners or those beyond who continue to prefer the nickname “Big Ben” although strictly speaking that’s a reference only to the “Great Bell” a 13.5 ton (13.7 tonne) casting in bell metal (a bronze which is an alloy of about 77% copper & 23% tin).  The origin of the nickname is contested but there are no romantic tales, all the possible inspirations being worthy white men as was the Victorian way.

Although in Italy alone there are seven leaning towers (three of which stand (ie lean) in Venice), it’s the torre di Pisa (Tower of Pisa) which is by far the best-known and a frequent Instagram prop.  Built between 1173-1372, the structure in the Piazza del Duomo (Pisa’s Cathedral Square) is the campanile (the freestanding bell tower) of the adjacent Pisa Cathedral and the famous lean of some 4o (actually somewhat less than its greatest extent after more than a century of compensating engineering works) was apparent even during construction, the cause the softness of the sub-surface.  That geological feature has however contributed to the tower’s survival, the “rubber-like” sponginess below acting to absorb movement and despite a number of severe earthquakes in the region over the centuries, the tower remains.  It is of course known as the leaning tower than a sloping, oblique or slanted tower, probably because of the conventions of use which evolved in English.

The words “sloping”, “oblique”, “slanted”, & “leaning” all describe something not vertical or horizontal there tend to be nuances which dictate the choice of which to use.  Sloping generally is used of something which inclines or declines at a gentle or continuous angle, the implication being of a gradual or smooth transition from elevation to another, such as the way a hillside rises gradually rises to its summit.  Oblique is mostly a matter of specific angles and is thus common is mathematics, geometry and engineering.  Again, it’s a reference to something neither parallel nor perpendicular to a baseline but it tends to be restricted to something which can be defined with an exact measurement; in geometric or technical use, an oblique line or angle is one neither 90o nor perfectly horizontal.  Slanted describes something positioned at a diagonal, often used to imply a more noticeable or sharp angle but also is widely used figuratively, metaphorically and in idiomatic phrases.  Leaning refers to something tilted or positioned at an angle due to external pressure, the object in an unstable position and in need of support.  The implication carried is that something which “slants” is designed thus to do while something which “leans” does so because of some design flaw or unexpected external force being applied so it’s the leaning and not the sloping tower of Pisa, even though the structure has assumed quite a slope.

Slanting Engines

On a slant: Diagram of the mounting of the M194 straight-six engine in the Le Mans winning Mercedes-Benz 300 SL (W194) canted at a 40o slant (left); the Mercedes-Benz M196 straight-eight engine schematic (centre) and installed in a 1954 W196R "Streamliner" at a 53o slant (right).  The two large donut-like objects at the front are the inboard, finned brake drums; at the time, the engineers maintained disk brakes were "not yet ready for use". 

There are “slant” engines and they exist in three configurations.  The first is simply a conventional in-line engine (straight-six, straight-eight etc) which, when installed in a vehicle, is fitted with the block canted to the left or right, the objective being a lower hood line which means a better aerodynamic outcome.  A classic example was the Mercedes-Benz W196R Formula One racing car (1954-1955) in which the straight-eight was canted to the right at a 53o angle, the technique carried over when the same structure was used to produce the W196S (1955) used to contest the World Sports Car Championship.  Rather opportunistically, the W196S was dubbed the 300 SLR (one of which in 2022 became the world's most expensive used car, selling at a private auction for US$142 million) as a form of cross promotion with the 300 SL (W198, 1954-1956) Gullwing then in production, even though the two types shared little more than nuts, bolts and a resemblance.  The 300 SL did however also have its straight-six engine sitting at a slant, this time canted at a 50o angle and although the factory never published an estimate of the reduction in drag, it’s long been presumed to be “at least several percent”.  Another advantage of the configuration was it made possible the use of “long-tube” runners for the induction system, taking advantage of the properties of fluid dynamics to permit them to be tuned either for mid-range torque or top-end power.  The concept used math which had been worked out in the nineteenth century and had often been used in competition but it wasn’t until 1959 when Chrysler in the US released their picturesque induction castings that the system, imaginatively named the “Sonoramic”, reached a wider audience.

Chrysler Slant Six (170 cid, 1963) schematic.

The “true” slant engines were those with a slanted block atop an otherwise conventional arrangement of components, the best known of which was Chrysler’s long-serving “Slant Six”, produced in displacements of 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969), 198 cubic inch (3.2 litre, 1970-1974) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1960-2000).  The block of the Slant Six was canted to the right at a 30o and like Mercedes-Benz, Chrysler took advantage of the space created to the left to produce some wide induction runners, the most extravagant those used by the special Hyper Pack option package which used a four barrel carburetor, enabling the engine to produce power which made it competitive with many V8 powered machines.  Although the name “Slant Six” became famous, it was only in the mid-sixties it caught on, Plymouth originally calling the thing a 30-D (a reference to the a 30o slant), hardly very catchy and something to which only engineers would relate and Slant Six was soon preferred although the aficionados really like “tower of power” and the engine even today still has a devoted following.

Chrysler Slant Six with Hyper Pak in 1962 Plymouth Valiant V-200.

Chrysler didn’t restrict the Sonoramics to the big-block V8s, using it also on the short-lived (1960-1962) Hyper Pak performance option for the both 170 cubic inch (2.8 litre, 1959-1969) and 225 cubic inch (3.7 litre, 1987-2000) versions of the Slant Six, the engineers taking advantage of the space afforded by the canted block to permit the curvaceous intake runners nearly to fill the engine bay.  The Hyper Pak wasn't seen in showrooms but was available as an over-the-counter kit (literally a cardboard box containing all necessary parts) from Dodge & Plymouth spare parts departments and its life was limited because it became a victim of its own success.  Although less suitable for street use because it turned the mild-mannered straight-six into something at its best at full throttle, in the race events for which it was eligible it proved unbeatable, dominating the competition for two years, compelling the sanctioning body cancel the series.

Manifold porn: The Slant Six's angle meant there was much space available to the left and a range of intake manifolds followed, some of which remain available to this day.  Using variations of the sonoramic tuning, manifolds were produced for single, two & four barrel carburetors and between 1965-1968, Chrysler's Argentine operation produced the Slant Six in a version with twin single barrel carburetors.  The use of the properties of fluid dynamics to gain power or torque as desired quickly was adopted by the industry as an engineering orthodoxy.

Some myths seem to have become attached to the Hyper-Pak.  What seems to be true is the original kit, sold in 1960 for the 170 engines used in competition, was a genuine homologation exercise and as well as the intake manifold & Carter AFB four barrel carburetor, it included all the internal parts such as the high-compression pistons, the high-lift camshaft and the valve train components needed to support the consequently higher engine speeds.  Because the competition rules allowed modifications to the exhaust system, on the track the cars ran tubular steel headers which fed an open exhaust, terminating in the racers' preferred “dump pipe”.  After the requisite number of “complete” kits were sold, thus fulfilling the homologation demands, the kits were reconfigured and included only the “bolt-on” parts such as the induction system and a camshaft which, while more aggressive than the standard unit, wasn’t as radical as the one used on the track but could be used in conjunction with the standard valve train and Chrysler’s TorqueFlite automatic, thus expanding the Hyper-Pak’s appeal.

At the same time, the availability was extended to the larger 225 which between 1961-1963 was also available with an aluminum block, thus becoming one of the small number of engines configured with the combination of an aluminum block with a cast-iron head.  US manufacturers were at the time aware the trend was for cars to continue getting bigger so they were interested in ways to reduce weight.  However, despite saving some 70 lbs (32 KG), Chrysler’s aluminum block was, like General Motors’ (GM) 215 cubic inch (3.5 litre) V8, short-lived (though the V8 after being sold to Rover enjoyed a long, lucrative and prolific second life, not finally laid to rest until 2006) for not only were teething troubles encountered with the still novel method of construction, the accountants made clear using cast iron was always going to be cheaper so the industry just accepted weight gain and whenever required, increased displacement to compensate, an approach which persisted until the first oil shock of the early 1970s.

1970 Dodge Challenger (1970-1974) with 225 Slant Six.

Until 1973, both the Challenger & the corporation's companion E-Body pony car (the Plymouth Barracuda (1969-1974)) was available with the Slant Six (198 & 225) although the fitment rate was under 10%, unlike the early pony cars (Ford Mustang, Chevrolet Camaro and the early Barracudas) where the six-cylinder versions would at times be close to 40% of production.  Many of the surviving Slant Six Challengers & Barracudas have been "re-purposed" as clones of the more desirable versions with potent small or big-block V8s.  Because of the rarity, exceptional examples of slant-six E-body cars do trade in a niche in the collector market. 

Although it was the longer lived 225 version which gained the Slant Six its stellar reputation for durability and the ease with which additional power could be extracted, there's always been a following for the short-stroke 170 because of its European-like willingness to rev, the characteristics of the over-square engine (unique among the slant-six's three displacements (170-198-225)) unusually lively for a US straight-six.  Despite some aspects of the specification being modest (there were only four main bearings although they were the beefy units used in the 426 cubic inch Street Hemi V8), for much of its life it used a tough forged steel crankshaft and high-speed tolerant solid valve lifters; it proved a famously robust engine and one remarkably tolerant of neglect.  Despite that, after the Hyper Pak affair, Chrysler in the US showed little interest in any performance potential, knowing the US preference for V8s, something which doomed also Pontiac's short-lived single overhead camshaft (SOHC) straight-six (1966-1969).  A version of the 225 with a two-barrel carburetor (rated at 160 horsepower, an increase of 15 over the standard unit) was offered in some non-North American markets where V8 sales were not dominant and it proved very popular in South Africa, Australia, New Zealand and Central & South America but only when tighter US emission regulations forced its adoption did a 225 with a two barrel carburetor appear in the home market though there it was installed to restore the power losses suffered after the emission control plumbing was added rather than seek gains.

Pontiac Trophy 4 cutaway.

Making a straight-eight or V8 by combining two in-line fours has been done a few times and many have been successful (although Triumph managed to create a truly horrid one for the otherwise lovely Stag).  Less common is making a four from an eight but that’s what Pontiac did when they conjured their 194.5 cubic inch (3.2 litre) four by using one bank of their 389 cubic inch (6.4 litre) Trophy V8 and it was (just about) literally cut in half, meaning the cylinders were canted to the right by 45o (the V8 obviously in a conventional 90o configuration).  To emphasize the family connection with the highly regarded Pontiac Trophy V8, the smaller offspring was called the Trophy 4 (although it was at time also dubbed the Indy 4 or Indianapolis 4 which even at the time sounded ambitious).  It did work and the economic advantages for the manufacturer (use of common components and the same assembly line) were compelling but the limitations inherent in a four-cylinder of such a large displacement were apparent in the rough-running and wear on critical parts and it was available only between 1961-1963 and used in a single model, the compact (in US terms) Tempest.

Pontiac 389 cubic inch V8 and "Tri-Power" (three Rochester two-barrel carburetors) induction in 1966 GTO convertible; one of these is more sought after than two Trophy 4s and worth more than twice as much.

The Pontiac V8 which provided the bones for the Trophy 4 was unusual compared with the US industry's post-war practice in that although its displacement ranged between 265-455 cubic inches (4.3-7.5 litres), only one block was used whereas others would produce several, the most common distinction being the "big block" and "small block", terms which were not always indicative of relative internal capacity but were literal in terms of external dimensions.  Ford muddied the waters a bit when one "big block" was continued in production after another (even bigger) "big block" was released and this had led some to prefer the opportunistically coined "mid block" but that's always been too nerdy for most who continue to prefer the well-understood small-big distinction.  All Oldsmobile's post-war V8s also shared the one basic block but the division followed the usual practice of using a "tall deck" version (ie one with metal added to the casting to permit a longer stroke) for the larger displacement iterations whereas Pontiac chose to use a unique "short deck" casting for some in the last days before General Motors (GM) extended the intra-divisional sharing of engines, something which doomed the Pontiac V8.  The fact that the external dimensions of the Pontiac V8s were almost all identical, regardless of displacement intrigued some who saw a simple, cheap path to power, replacing a 326 cubic inch (5.3 litre) V8 with a 455 cubic inch version a remarkably simple process.  However, as some soon found out, just because it fitted under the hood didn't mean other components would tolerate the increase in power and torque, something which applied especially to some of Pontiac's novel (and short-lived) engineering in the early 1960s such as the flexible driveshaft (the so-called "rope-drive") or the rear-mounted transaxle;  quickly, things would break.

Diagram showing balance shaft locations.

Bigger even than the Pontiac Trophy 4, large displacement four cylinder engines were once common although some were exceptional.  Fiat in 1910 built two of their S76s to contest the world LSR (land speed record) and they were an hefty 28.4 litres (1730 cubic inch), the “Beast of Turin” using its then impressive 290 horsepower (216 kW) to attain a one-way speed of 132.27 mph (213 km/h) but, because it was not possible for the team to make the “return run” (ie in the opposite direction) within the stipulated one hour, the LSR remained with the Blitzen Benz which in 1909 had set a mark of 125.94 mph (202.65 km/h).  On land, never again would anyone build a four with the capacity to match the Beasts of Turin but units with displacements approaching 5.0 litres (305 cubic inch) were not uncommon during the inter-war years.  However, the technology of the internal combustion engine (ICE) greatly advanced during World War II (1939-1945) and one consequence of that was engine speeds rose and less displacement was required for a specific output, both factors which conspired to make the big fours unfashionable.  They did however make a comeback in the 1970s when the clever trick of “balance shafts” enabled the inherently chronic second order harmonic vibrations to be “dampened out” and Porsche between 1991-1995 produced a 3.0 litre (183 cubic inch) range which used the technique.  The balance shaft was invented early in the twentieth century by English engineer Frederick Lanchester (1868–1946) but it was Mitsubishi which in the 1970s patented their “Silent Shaft” system and although Porsche developed their own version, they worked out the Japanese design was superior so used that instead, paying Mitsubishi a small royalty (under US$10) for each one installed.  A balance shaft uses two counterweights (looking something like small hockey pucks with the shaft running through them), set some 1½ inches (40 mm) apart and turns at twice the engine-speed.  With one shaft mounted high on one side of the engine and the other low on the opposite side, the pair counter-rotates, balancing the large reciprocating mass.  In that, the balance shafts can be thought of as a variation of a crankshaft's harmonic balancer.

Headlights on a slant

The one-off, 1938 Jaguar SS100 fixed head coupé (FHC) “Grey Lady” which demonstrates the traditional placement when four lights were used.

Headlights at a slant (mounted diagonally and known also as "canted") have also been a thing.  The inclination designers for decades felt to use a diagonal arrangement for headlights began innocently enough in the pre-war years when it emulated the usual practice of placing a pair of driving lamps or for lights inboard of the main headlamps and lower down, mounted typically on the bumper bar or its supporting brackets.  Most headlamps until the late 1930s were in separate housings, as were the auxiliary devices and even cars which integrated them into the coachwork adopted the same geometry.  This was due in part to the evolutionary nature of automobile styling which has often tried to avoid the “shock of the new” and in part to regulations, especially those which applied in the US.

Jaguar S-Type (1963-1968, left), Vanden Plas Princess R (1964-1968, centre) and Volvo 164 (1968-1975, right).

Although most would regard the technique which essentially integrated the driving lamps/fog lamps into the coachwork as just a variation on the diagonal theme, professional designers insist not; they say this is just wrapping enveloping bodywork around an existing device.  Also, the professionals prefer the term “canted headlamps” because “diagonal” has a more precise definition in mathematics.

Rover 3.5 Coupé (P5B 1967-1973, left) and Packard Coupe (1958) (right)

While the US manufacturers usually re-tooled in 1957-1958 after regulations had been changed to allow quad head-lamps, the British were often fiscally challenged and needed to continue to use existing sheet metal.  A design like the Vanden Plas Princess R (and the companion Wolseley 6/99 & 6/110 (1959-1968)) has sufficient space to allow the diagonal placement but the Rover P5 (1958-1967) with its wider grill precluded the approach so the expedient solution was to go vertical.  Although obviously just “bolted on”, such was the appeal of the P5B it just added to the charm.  It could have been much worse because less charming was the 1958 Packard Coupe, produced by Studebaker-Packard, the company an ultimately doomed marriage of corporate convenience which seemed at the time a good idea but proved anything but. Studebaker-Packard lacked the funds to re-tool to take advantage of the rules allowing four head-lamps but without the feature their cars would have looked even more hopelessly outdated than they anyway did so cheap fibreglass “pods” were produced which looked as “tacked on” as they were.  They were the last Packards made and Studebaker’s demise followed within a decade.

1963 Zunder

The Zunder ("spark" in German) was produced in Argentina between 1960-1963 and used the power-train from the Porsche 356.  The body was fashioned in fibreglass and was one of the many interesting products of the post war industry in Brazil and Argentina, the history of which is much neglected.  By the standards of time, it was well-built but as a niche product, was never able to achieve the critical mass necessary to ensure the company’s survival and production ceased in 1963 after some 200 had been built.

Buick Electra 225 (First generation 1959–1960, left) and (Lincoln) Continental Mark III (1958-1960, right).  The Buick adopted horizontal headlamps in 1960.

In the late 1950s, most US manufacturers did have cash to spend and the industry spirit at the time was never to do in moderation what could be done in excess although by comparison with the Lincoln, the Buick verged on the restrained.  Tellingly, the Buick sold well while the Continental was such a disaster Ford considered sending Lincoln to join Edsel on the corporate scrapheap and the nameplate was saved only because it was possible at low cost to re-purpose a prototype Ford Thunderbird as the new Continental.  Rarely has any replacement been such a transformation and the 1961 Continental would influence the design of full-sized American cars for twenty years.  It used horizontally mounted head-lamps.

1961 Chrysler 300 G.

Chrysler’s “Letter Series 300” (1955-1965) coupes and convertibles were the brightest glint in the golden age in which Detroit’s power race was played out in the big cars, an era which would be ended by the introduction of the intermediates and pony cars in the 1960s.  The 300G (1961) was visually little changed from the previous year’s 300F but the simple change to diagonal headlamps was transformative.  There were those who didn’t like the look but generally it was well received and as a first impression, the feeling might have been Chrysler had mastered the motif in a way the Continental Mark III proved Ford just didn’t get it.

1961 DeSoto Adventurer (left), 1962 Dodge Dart (centre) and 1963 Dodge Polara (right).

However, Chrysler’s designers in the early 1960s may have decided they liked diagonal headlamps which was good but seemingly they liked them so much they though the buyers should be offered as many permutations of the idea as could be made to work on a production line.  What’s remarkable is not that the public didn’t take to the approach but that it took the corporation so long to admit the mistake and try something more conventional.  Just to hedge their bets, while Dodge, Plymouth and DeSoto all had headlamps mounted at an obvious degree of cant, on the Chryslers the effect was so subtle one really needed to hold a spirit level to the front end to confirm there was an slant, albeit one imperceptible to the naked eye.  The one division which never were the diagonal way was the Imperial but it’s headlamp treatment was more bizarre still.

1961 DeSoto styling proposal (September 1958) for the 1961 range.

For DeSoto, things could have looked worse even than they did, some of the implementations of the diagonal motif which went as far as clay models or actual metal prototypes so bizarre one wonders what external influences were being studied (or inhaled).  As it turned out, 1961 would be the end of the line for DeSoto, a nameplate which had been successful as recently as the mid 1950s.  Its demise was little to do with diagonal head-lamps (though they didn’t help) but a product of Chrysler’s other divisions expanding their ranges up and down, encroaching on a market segment DeSoto once found so lucrative.  The phenomenon was a harbinger of the eventual fate of marques like Mercury, Pontiac, Oldsmobile and Plymouth.

Retractable headlights: 1972 Ferrari 356 GTC/4 (top left), 1968 Lamborghini Isoero (top right), 1967 Maserati Ghibli Spyder (bottom left) and 1970 Plymouth Superbird (bottom right).

Although sometimes the diagonal placement of headlights was a deliberate choice by the stylist, it could be something dictated by the body's shape and this was the case when quad units were used in conjunction with retractable housings.  On most cars the diagonal motif appeared with the outboard lights mounted noticeably higher than those inboard but, because of the slope, when retractable lights were used the inner lights could sit higher, the visual effect sometimes exaggerated because the angle the housing (following the horizontal nose-line) assume when erected made the inboard lights seem higher still.  It was a product of shape and not something inherent to the “pop-up” retractable technique: The 1969 Dodge Daytona and 1970 Plymouth Superbird (both homologation exercises for use on the NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) ovals & tracks) both had their four headlights aligned in the horizontal.

1964 Bentley S3 “Chinese-eye” two-door saloon by Mulliner, Park Ward (MPW).  MPW was in 1961 created as the in-house coach-building division of Rolls-Royce by merging Park Ward (a subsidiary since 1939) and H. J. Mulliner (a subsidiary since 1959).  In 1991 the operation was shut down but the Mulliner name endures as Bentley’s “personal commissioning division” which offers services ranging from high-priced bling to bespoke coach-built bodies.

Bentley’s Continental “sports saloon” was in 1952 introduced on the R-Type chassis, the line continued (with some sacrifice in individuality) with the S-Type generation of six-cylinder cars in 1955.  When the S2 was released in 1959, the external appearance was little changed although under the bonnet (hood) there was the new 6¼ litre V8 which faithfully would serve for some six decades until 2020 when the last was fitted to a Bentley Mulsanne although by then, there were few parts able to be interchanged with those in the original run.  With the debut of the V8, it was no longer possible to purchase a Bentley with a manual transmission and, unlike some of the S3 range, all the Continentals had coach-built bodies from H J Mulliner, James Young or Park Ward.  The Mulliner (and later MPW) cars featured slanting nacelles for the quad headlights and quickly these gained the sobriquet “Chinese eye” which, surprisingly, seems to have survived the linguistic treadmill and the term still is used by the trade servicing the collector community.

Clockwise from top left: Fiat 8V (1952-1954), Gordon-Keeble GK-1 (1961-1967), Jensen C-V8 (1962-1966) and Triumph Vitesse convertible (1962-1971).

Perhaps surprisingly, the French majors were never much enamored, presumably because Citroën and Renault didn’t like to be thought imitative and Peugeot was too conservative.  Some of the Europeans did dabble with the idea, embracing it as an expression of modernity although the then radical treatment of the head-lamps sometimes struck a discordant note when the look was grafted onto something where the rest of the platform was so obviously from one or two generations past.  Fiat’s exquisite 8Vs didn’t all get the diagonal look but those which did remain the most memorable of the few of the breed built.  An unqualified aesthetic success was the Gordon-Keeble built to aviation standards and powered by a Chevrolet V8 in Corvette tune.  It deserved to succeed but floundered as much of the British industry did in the era because of a lack of capitalization and an accounting operation which didn’t match the quality of the engineering.  More commercially successful was the Jensen C-V8 but while the distinctive front end now makes it much prized by collectors, at the time it was less admired and its very presence served only to emphasize how antiquated the rest of the styling had become.  For its replacement, Jensen tuned to an Italian styling house and the Interceptor, introduced in 1966 and remembered for the vast expanse of rear glass, is now thought a classic of the era.  The one which sold best was the Triumph Vitesse, one of a number of variations built on the robust and versatile separate chassis of the Herald (1959-1971) including the Spitfire and GT6.  Although not exactly the BMW M3 of its day, the six-cylinder engines did provide effortless performance and the Vitesse’s front end actually lived on in India (though without the torquey straight-sixes) to enjoy an "Indian summer" but curiously, the inner headlights weren’t fitted.

Gilding the lily: The Lancia Fulvia coupé (1965-1976) before & after.

The lovely, delicate lines of the Lancia Fulvia were perfect and really couldn’t be improved.  The unfortunate facelift with the canted lights was no improvement.