Sometimes we seem to use the same word over and over again to refer to a wide number of non-related things. I suppose it might be a Latin thing—that there were only so many words in the Latin language and therefore several loose links were formed and then interpreted in creative ways. Hoping no one would notice.
Today’s Latin-collective word is Corona and I thought I’d bring it up because we’ve all being hearing it a lot lately as our continent anticipates the upcoming solar eclipse. In Latin, the word corona translates to mean crown and that’s why it is used to describe that white flare-y bit we see the moon surrounded by during a total solar eclipse. In truth, the sun wears its corona all the time, but it isn’t something that can be discerned prior to getting your retinas burnt off if you try to look for it on an average Thursday without any form of eye protection whatsoever. Just accept that it’s there.
In the 1920s, the word Corona was chosen as the name for a typeface or font that was designed by a guy named Chauncey H. Griffith. Popular thought is that it was the first typeface designed specifically for use in the newspaper trade. It was highly prized because while it is fairly compact, it conveys a feeling of strength and modernity. That’s what they say.
The Corona Theorem is a proven mathematical statement that I spent several muddled moments not understanding. I’m not completely sure that the explanation I had turned to was even written in English. It is an algebraic thing—let’s leave it there. What I did figure out was that it bore no similarity to either the 1920s designed font or to the shiny bits during an eclipse.
My exhaustive research discovered that there was a Saint Corona who lived in the 160s-170s AD and who was killed because she attempted to comforted a Roman soldier who was being tortured and killed. Strangely, she isn’t known as the patron saint of tender-hearted people, instead she is the patron saint of causes that involve money, “such as gambling or treasure hunting”. Oh?
Ever see the Disney version of Rapunzel called “Tangled”? (Mandy Moore voiced the main character and Rotten Tomatoes gave it a rating of 89% with an average of 7.5/10. You’re welcome.) Rapunzel’s hometown was named Corona. She was born to a king and queen (unlike in the original story which is a little too dark to get into) so I can almost see my way to that connection.
In the catalogue of other Coronas there’s the Mexican beer, 2 rock bands (one Italian and one Irish), and a genus of land snails from South America. Corona is used in the world of cigars to describe the size and length of a cigar. The Corona was a smash hit for the Standard Typewriter Co. in 1914, who then renamed themselves Smith Corona and made gazillions until the 1960s. And who among us didn’t travelled miles in a Corona during the 70s to the mid-90s–the very car featured in Toyota’s first ever television commercial? The one you remember was probably a blue or silver one. Most were.
The use of the word corona seems to be endless but let’s try to shine some light back towards the sun, shall we?
Those who live in the pathway of Monday’s total eclipse will be the fortunate few who will actually be able to experience it face-on. To get The Full Corona, as it were. It is reported that another one will not visit your area in the same totality for another 375 years (don’t wait up). Partial eclipses happen 2-5 times a year with total eclipses showing up every 18 months somewhere on the earth or in the atmosphere around the earth. Still, the odds aren’t wildly in your favour of being on hand for another total eclipse, so enjoy this one.
For the rest of us who are on the fringes of this total eclipse, we will be able to experience a partial eclipse, which is still somewhat magical. Being one of the fringe viewers, I am particularly looking forward to facing completely away from where all of the action is in the sky and casting my eyes to the ground instead. The phenomena I’m anticipating with great delight is referred to as “Crescent Shadows”.
These little crescent-shaped dapples of light (rather than shadows as indicated by their name) are formed as our main source of light is changed from round to crescent shaped in the sky. When the light then shines through something, like the leafy branches of a tree, the dappled light that is thrown on the ground, echoes the shape of the light shining on it. It’s the same barely graspable theory as the pinhole camera, where light is passed through a small opening and reflects what it sees. In this case, the light it sees is crescent shaped as the moon slowly steps in front of the sun and then moves out of the way again, doing that same courtly slow dance that the two of them have been doing throughout the ages.
You folks over in the Total Zone will also see unusual dapples if you turn your anti-eclipse-bespectacled eyes from the event itself and look to the ground for the effects that show up there. Instead of crescent shaped dapples, you will see complete rings of light dappling your ground. What you’re seeing is the whole corona affect—a complete ring of light around a dark centre. A veritable crown of light. It’s going to be cool. I would look if I were you.
Regardless of whether you will be in the Total or Partial Zone of the eclipse this Monday, I encourage you to raise a glass of Mexican beer in honour of the amazing solar experience that we are fortunate to be able to witness in whatever form graces us.
And for the love of Pete, don’t look directly at it without wearing your eclipse glasses!!! Look what that nonsense did to the former American President Trump!!
