Clothes have always been a human necessity. They protect us from the elements and are visual markers of our identities. However, with the proliferation of fast fashion and the excess of garments available at one's disposal, one is becoming ever-ignorant of their origin. And to live with nothing but the clothes on one's back is almost inconceivable to the modern man. Yet, this was the reality for many in the past. One's garments used to have more value because of the herculean time and effort borne in their production. Thus, to tear one's clothes, especially with intent, was remarkable. Let's explore this concept further by analysing the terms, a cappella, duanxiu, and keriah in turn.
First, a cappella refers to unaccompanied vocal music. Literally, it means 'in the chapel style'. Etymologically, a capella comes to English via the French chapele, ultimately from the Latin cappella—a diminutive of cappa, or 'cloak, cape'. The original cappa was from St Martin of Tours, the patron saint of France. St Martin, whilst serving as a soldier in the Roman army, one day, saw a ragged beggar and decided to cut off his military coat in half to share it with them. Afterwards, St Martin dreamt of Jesus Christ wearing the cloak; the half that remained with him, the cappella, was kept as a relic. Frankish kings then used this relic to battle and to give sanctity to oaths. Wherever it was brought, the cappella of St Martin was kept in sanctuaries under the care of its cappellani, 'chaplain'. The cappella later came to refer to these sanctuaries, hence our modern 'chapel'. In these chapels, church music was often performed, of which many were unaccompanied. Again, this music performed in these chapels became more general and secular, eventually giving us 'a capella'.
Second, in Chinese, there is another term, duanxiu (斷袖), meaning 'cut sleeve'. This originates from the History of the Former Han (漢書, Han Shu) from the life of the Emperor Ai of Han (漢哀帝). In this history, Emperor Ai was in bed with his lover Dong Xian (董賢), and had to attend a court audience that morning. As he did not wish to rouse Dong Xian, who had rested his head on the sleeve of the emperor's robes, the Emperor took a knife and cut off part of his sleeve. This passage of affection had been iconic to the extent that duanxiu became proverbial and euphemistic for homosexuality, invoked in Chinese literary and historical works for millennia. Duanxiu continues today in the modern language in this euphemistic sense.
Finally, on a more sombre note, keriah (קְרִיעָה) means 'tearing' or the 'rending of one's garments' in Hebrew. The keriah is held during the process of mourning in Judaism. Keriah has a long history: in the Torah, one would perform keriah upon hearing sad news, especially at the death of a loved one. For example, Jacob, son of Abraham, mourned his son's death by tearing his clothes (Genesis 37:34). King David too tore his clothes upon hearing the deaths of Saul and Jonathan (II Samuel 1:11).
This tradition continues today. In Jewish tradition, the keriah is performed standing, as a sign of strength and respect for the deceased. The tear is made on the left side of the clothing for the parents—over the heart—and on the right for the rest of the relatives. Not all tear their clothes; other Jews opt for wearing a black ribbon instead. Regardless, the torn garment or ribbon is worn during 'Shiva', the first seven days of mourning after the burial. Additionally, some will not wash their clothes, sit on low stools, or leave the house.
In sum, the etymologies surrounding the language of garments—in this case, a cappella, duanxiu, and keriah—tell us profound things about the human condition. These three poignant words are living artefacts of love manifested in its manifold forms. It is love that looks beyond the material. It is love, whether platonic, familial, or romantic. It is love that is shown even to strangers. It is love that selflessly relinquishes that one holds dear for the sake of the other. It is love that transcends life and death.