Italy

cenobite

I’m a big fan of horror films – the schlockier the better. And I’ve recently been trying to catch up with 80s video-nasty classics like A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Evil Dead and, most recently, Hellraiser (although I gave up after Hellraiser 2, as the internet tells me the nine (yep) sequels get progressively worse). Hellraiser is based on ‘The Hellbound Heart’, a novella by Clive Barker, who also wrote and directed the first film.

Pinhead. He got pins in his head

Even if you’ve never seen Hellraiser, you’re probably familiar with Pinhead, the primary antagonist. Pinhead and his pals are called the cenobites, and are part of ‘The Order of the Gash’. They’re demonic beings who were once human but have been transformed by their experiences in the afterlife, and now look pretty damn gross (in fact, Pinhead’s probably the least minging). The cenobites live in an alternate reality called the Labyrinth or the Leviathan’s Domain, and their favourite thing is inflicting pain on humans who summon them (some accidentally, some on purpose). They do that using a puzzle box called the Lemarchand Configuration, which opens a dimensional fissure.

The Hellraiser cenobites all look a bit BDSM as they wear various combinations of leather and chains, often with bits of their own skin thrown in, ewww. The original novella and first two films have them as morally ambiguous (‘demons to some, angels to others’) but later films and comics make them more straightforwardly sadistic.

After all that, it turns out that Barker didn’t invent the term ‘cenobite’, and it originally had a much more benign and less BDSM-ey meaning. It started out as a word for the followers of Pythagoras (he of the theorem), who founded a commune in Italy for philosophical study and also for the ‘amicable sharing of worldly goods’ (sounds like a cult to me – call your dad). ‘Cenobite’ first appeared in English in the 17th century where it referred to a member of a monastic community who lived in a common house under a common rule (i.e religion). It can also refer to any person in a communal or shared living situation (like a commune). The word itself comes from the Greek ‘koinos’ meaning ‘common’, and ‘bios’ meaning ‘life’.

A group of monks living in this type of community is often referred to as a cenobium. And cenobitic (or coenobitic if you want to make it really hard to spell) monasticism is the opposite of eremitic monasticism, which is when you’re a hermit (like me).

Back to Hellraiser. Pinhead’s nickname was created by the Hellraiser production crew and then picked up by fans, although Barker hated it. In ‘The Scarlet Gospels’ he’s simply known as ‘The Hell Priest’, which is much less fun. In the first eight films, he’s played by an actor called Doug Bradley. But for the (not-very-good) 2022 remake, the character’s played by Jamie Clayton, a female actor and model. This is actually truer to the original novella, where he’s described as having a voice that’s ‘light and breathy – the voice of an excited girl’. Other cenobites that regularly appear in the Hellraiser franchise include Chatterer, whose name comes from the constant clicking of his teeth, The Female, whose only attribute seems to be ‘woman’, and Butterball, who’s really fat (but wears cool shades).

‘We have such sights to show you…’

peristeronic

No, I haven’t spelled (spelt?) ‘prehistoric’ wrong. If something or someone (god forbid) is peristeronic then it means it or they relate to or resemble a pigeon.

The etymology is pretty straightforward – the ancient Greek word for dove or pigeon is ‘peristera’. Both of these birds come from the columbidae family. We get a couple of nice words from that as well:

  • ‘columbarium’ – another word for a pigeon loft or a dovecote (I wonder why pigeons get lofts but doves gets cotes? Seems a bit racist), and also any type of vault which has niches for storing urns in it

  • ‘columbine’ – which means of or relating to a dove, in innocence, gentleness, colour and so on. It’s also the name of one of the stock characters in commedia dell’arte (a form of popular theatre from 16th-century Italy that Inside No. 9 used as a basis for an episode that most people – including me – didn’t understand).

Time for pigeon facts. Pigeons are monogamous and mate for life. Mum and dad pigeons share parental responsibilities equally, meaning they’re already far more evolved than most humans (and I bet there’s no gender-pay gap). They’re also pretty clever. Aside from their awesome navigational abilities – an Oxford University study found that pigeons use manmade landmarks as signposts and often fly along roads and motorways, even changing direction at junctions – they can apparently recognise all 26 letters of the English alphabet and solve problems (I think I need a pigeon assistant).

GI Joe. He’s not dead, he’s resting.

Homing pigeons were used extensively during the First and Second World Wars for communication and reconnaissance. In fact, pigeon USA43SC6390, AKA GI Joe, saved the lives of the inhabitants of an entire Italian village, and the British troops who were occupying it, on 18 October 1943. Air support had been requested to deal with German soldiers in the village (called Calvi Vecchia). GI Joe flew 20 miles in 20 minutes to deliver a message that the British 169th (London) Infantry Brigade had captured the village, arriving just as the planes were getting ready to take off to bomb the target. He saved the lives of at least 100 men. GI Joe was given the Dickin Medal (which sounds rude but isn’t) for ‘the most outstanding flight made by a United States Army pigeon in World War II’.

I’m not crying, I’ve just got something in my eye.

‘Feed the birds’ from Mary Poppins – the dirty old bird lady always makes me well up.