‘I suppose it is too late,” David Pye writes, “to protest against motor scooters being called mopeds.” His email comes in the wake of almost daily reports of attacks by moped-riding thieves. “Today,” he says, “Rachel Sylvester has a sentence containing both scooters and mopeds, apparently as synonyms to avoid repetition. The moped, rarely seen today but once a common runabout, was a very light motor cycle with pedal assistance when required — hence the name mo(tor)ped(al). It never had a pillion seat and would be quite unsuitable for these reported events, criminal or otherwise. Why has ‘scooter’ fallen into disuse?”
Neither Rachel nor I were aware of the history of the word, but “moped attack” has become the phrase of the moment and we fear it is too late to hold back the tide. In fairness, it seems that there has been argument about the word for almost as long as the machines have existed. In 1955, when 12,000 of the new machines were manufactured in Britain, we referred to “motorised bicycles (known as mopeds)”, but a year later we reported that “Britain has not defined what constitutes a motor scooter, though it is usually described as an enclosed motor cycle. The British industry has accepted the German definition of a moped as a machine with an engine of 50cc or under. This, unlike the definitions of some other oversea countries, makes no reference to pedals being required.”
Several people got in touch about a leading article from 100 years ago which we reprinted on Tuesday in the First World War spot, about the royal family renouncing its German name and rebranding as the House of Windsor. “Windsor,” the leader said, approvingly, “is a loadstar for the descendants of those who have gone forth from these islands and made the British Empire.”
“I probably should get out more,” wrote Michael Perkins from Hockley Heath, Solihull, “but should not ‘loadstar’ be ‘lodestar’?” Strictly, yes, but that’s how our leader writer chose to spell it in 1917, so we didn’t correct it. Interestingly, where Collins allows “loadstar” as an alternative, Oxford is not so tolerant. Giving the definition as “A star that is used to guide the course of a ship, especially the Pole Star”, it traces its origin to the Middle English “lode, in the obsolete sense ‘way, course’ ”.
All in all, I’d say that our historical leader writer was probably having a bad day and Mr Perkins need not have apologised for mentioning it. Apart from anything else, if everyone decided to get out more Feedback would have nothing to write about.
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Disarming talent Peter Brookes’s cartoon of Donald Trump Jr in front of the Senate intelligence committee was an elegant tribute to the painting by William Frederick Yeames, And When Did You Last See Your Father?
“It was interesting,” Rupert Craven wrote, “to see how the cartoon avoided the troublesome problem of the Roundhead’s elongated arm (which helps to lead the eye through the original painting). My compliments to Mr Brookes.”
I’d never noticed, but it is true that the artist seems to have had trouble with his proportions and the Roundhead in question does indeed have one remarkably long arm. “I thought it odd, yes,” says Peter, “so I decided to move it.”
Peter’s artistic sources are many and varied. The oddest reaction to one of his cartoons came after he portrayed Tim Farron as Adam receiving the gift of life, from Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel fresco. The cartoon, a reader complained, “shows God with his arm round a topless woman. God doesn’t cavort with semi-clad females.” I wonder if Pope Julius II raised a similar objection with the artist. If he did, he obviously got short shrift.
Absolutely literal Reporting Donald Trump’s visit to France, we wrote that President Macron offered “fulsome expressions of support for the US and its embattled leader”.
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“Was the support from Mr Macron insincere and/or overblown?” asked Godfrey Shaw, from Dublin. No, that wasn’t what we meant. The style guide advises caution with this troublesome word: “It is widely (but alas not universally) held to mean excessive or insincere, rather than lavish or abundant. Many readers will therefore understand ‘fulsome praise’ to be praise that is overdone or hypocritical, when all that the writer may intend is generous or warm. A word so open to misunderstanding (or misuse) may be best avoided altogether.”
I recently mentioned our tendency to be over-literal when translating from French. Trevor Field found an example last week in President Macron’s answer to the question of whether differences of opinion could disrupt friendly relations between France and the US. “According to your correspondent, he said ‘Resolutely no’. Obviously this is a slavish version of ‘Résolument non’, but surely it is possible to make it more natural with something like ‘Absolutely/Definitely not’, which is much closer to what an English speaker would have said.”
Absolutely, yes.
Riots and wrongs Last week Canon John Fellows put us right on “reading”, as opposed to administering, the last rites. Peter Gately replied, “If we are going to nitpick over whether one reads the Last Rites or the Riot Act, it was actually the proclamation specified within the Riot Act that was read.” We’ll try to remember.
In what seems to be turning into clerical corrections corner, Janet Fife wrote from Whitby to query the Times2 headline, “How Victoria Pendleton lanced her demons”.
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“As an Anglican priest I had always understood that demons have to be exorcised, although I’ve also read of their being simply ‘overcome’, presumably after a lengthy struggle. Lancing was something doctors did to boils.” Demons, boils, I’m just glad Ms Pendleton is feeling better.