Terrestrial
His Imperial Majesty, the High Emperor
the Grand Admiral the Duke of Asia
the Viscount of Ny Kalmar
the Mayor Palatine of Britain
Lunar
Her Highness, Lady Megan of Luna
the Right Noble Lady Guardian of the Mare Crisium
Martian
The Duke of Mars
the Lady Marr of Syrtis
Extra-Solar
The Earl of Sidrath
I know many people, including my former self, who would have said, "What a lot of nonsense." I may have gained a better understanding of how different kinds of societies work while still preferring an egalitarianism in which such grandiose titles would be bandied about only as a joke. I think that there was an Army in Oz with an ascending hierarchy of Officers but only a single Private? (Turn the world upside down!)
5 comments:
"...while still preferring an egalitarianism in which such grandiose titles would be bandied about only as a joke."
I will second that attitude.
It's all what you're used to. Apparently the early Terran Empire went in for deliberate archaisms in terminology.
The heads of state of North Korea (and Cuba) don't have the titles, but they're hereditary monarchs nonetheless.
It's true that an initially modest title can come to be quite grandiose.
See a title initially meaning 'military leader' becoming ruler of an enormous realm.
Imperator -> Emperor.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/JustTheFirstCitizen
And Caesar, originally a family name, gave us Kaiser and Czar.
As the Kipling poem goes, illustrating how Caesar's family name came to mean just "Emperor":
"Rimini"
When I left Rome for Lalage's sake,
By the Legions' Road to Rimini,
She vowed her heart was mine to take
With me and my shield to Rimini--
(Till the Eagles flew from Rimini--)
And I've tramped Britain, and I've tramped Gaul
And the Pontic shore where the snow-flakes fall
As white as the neck of Lalage--
(As cold as the heart of Lalage!)
And I've lost Britain, and I've lost Gaul,
And I've lost Rome and, worst of all,
I've lost Lalage! -
When you go by the Via Aurelia
As thousands have traveled before
Remember the Luck of the Soldier
Who never saw Rome any more!
Oh, dear was the sweetheart that kissed him,
And dear was the mother that bore;
But his shield was picked up in the heather,
And he never saw Rome any more!
When you go by the Via Aurelia
That runs from the City to Gaul,
Remember the Luck of the Soldier
Who rose to be master of all!
He carried the sword and the buckler,
He mounted his guard on the Wall,
Till the Legions elected him Caesar,
And he rose to be master of all!
It's twenty-five marches to Narbo,
It's forty-five more up the Rhone,
And the end may be death in the heather
Or life on an Emperor's throne.
But whether the Eagles obey us,
Or we go to the Ravens--alone,
I'd sooner be Lalage's lover
Than sit on an Emperor's throne!
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