Ars Poetica

With nine years' work and $250 million, Ford Motor Co. developed a new car so seemingly sleek that no known Detroit word could possibly describe it. What to name it? Soaring images tumbled from copywriters' brains; contests were held. But to Ford Special Products Division's David Wallace, a most literate carmaker, even the brightest, headiest names in all cardom were far from enough. This was no mere car; it was poetry in motion. And it was to the nation's leading poetess that Wallace went for help.

In October 1955 he began corresponding with Miss Marianne Moore, whose fragile images, often of animals, e.g., "A brass-green bird with grass-green throat," have won her the respect of the world and a quiverful of literary prizes for three long decades. Last week, in The New Yorker magazine, the Moore-Wallace letters were published for the first time.

A Dramatic Flash. What Ford needed desperately, Wallace said at the outset, was a name "that flashes a dramatically desirable picture in people's minds . . . Over the past few weeks this office has confected a list of 300-odd candidates which, it pains me to relate, are characterized by an embarrassing pedestrianism. We are miles short of our ambition."

Happy to help. Poetess Moore forthwith suggested "The Ford Silver Sword" (a rare plant found only in the crater of Hawaii's volcanic Mount Haleakala), also the word Hurricane combined with a series of swift birds--Hurricane Hirundo (swallow), Hurricane Aquila (eagle), Hurricane Accipter (hawk). Slightly alarmed at the Moore deluge, business-wise Wallace warned: "It is unspeakably contrary to procedure to accept counsel--even needed counsel--without a firm prior agreement of conditions (and, indeed, to follow the letter of things, without a Purchase Notice in quadruplicate and three Competitive Bids). But then, seldom has the auto business had occasion to indulge in so ethereal a matter as this."

Since Miss Moore refused to consider money "in advance of performance," Wallace agreed to honor "your wish for a fancy unencumbered," sent sketches of the dream car to give the poetess inspiration. After looking at them, Miss Moore replied: "I am by no means sure that I can help you to the right thing, but performance with elegance casts a spell. Let me do some thinking in the direction of impeccable, symmechromatic, thunder-blender . . . (The exotics, if I can shape them a little.) Dearborn might come into one ... I thank you for realizing that under contract esprit could not flower. You owe me nothing, specific or moral."

Andante con Moto. After that, Poetess Moore really began producing. Samples: "Mongoose Civique, Thunder Crester, Dearborn Diamante, Magigravure, Pastelogram, Regina-rex, Taper Racer, Varsity Stroke, Astranaut, Chaparral, Tir `a l'arc (bull's-eye), Triskelion (three legs running), Pluma Piluma (hairfine, feather-foot), Andante con Moto (description of a good motor?)." Wrote she on Dec. 8, 1955. "May I submit UTOPIAN TURTLE-TOP? Do not trouble to answer unless you like it." Wired back Wallace happily on Dec. 23 (not forgetting to send two dozen roses): "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO OUR FAVORITE TURTLETOPPER."

For the next eleven months Miss Moore heard nothing more. Then, on Nov. 8, 1956, Wallace dropped Poetess Moore a short note: "We have chosen a name out of the more than 6,000-odd candidates that we gathered. It fails somewhat of the resonance, gaiety and zest we were seeking. But it has a personal dignity and meaning to many of us here. Our name, dear Miss Moore, is--Edsel."

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