The Fifth of November is England's national day of celebration, but over the past 404 years, we've rather lost track of that. Four centuries of the trappings of The Fifth--the bonfires, fireworks, the scarecrows in wheelbarrows, and the roasted chestnuts--have rendered the whole thing a bit stale, and that's a real shame.
Part of The Fifth's thunder was stolen in 1981, when E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial was first released, and Brits got the idea that it might be more fun to celebrate on Halloween than on The Fifth. But the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot is bigger than any autumnal festival you can think of: It's Great Britain's equivalent of the Fourth of July and 9/11 rolled into one strange celebration.
Tne story goes back to the autumn of 1605, when a group of conspirators plotted to destroy the Houses of Parliament, killing the entire government and the whole royal family in one massive explosion. The building's cellars were filled with gunpowder barrels, and they were primed to blow. The results would have been catastrophic. Without leadership, England would be in anarchy and foreign armies would have been able to stroll in and take power. It would have meant the end of England's home rule and way of worship: The Church of England was so closely tied to the government that it would have crumbled too. That one explosion would have changed everything.
But by sheer dumb luck, the plot was foiled. The barrels were discovered, one of the conspirators was caught on the spot and the others were unmasked. News of what might have happened sent a cold chill down the nation's spine--but their deliverance meant only one thing: It was time to celebrate. So they did celebrate--in the only way they knew how. The same way that folks celebrated in the Old Testament. The same way the Pagans celebrated. With a bloody great fire and a party. And for good measure, they threw an effigy of one of the conspirators onto the fire.
The guy in question was called Guy. Guy Fawkes. He wasn't the mastermind of the operation, but he was the first one they caught so he became a symbol for whole shebang. So he's the guy that generations of children have made in effigy, and wheeled around town in their quest for pennies or treats. (And yes, this is where the Yanks got their idea of Trick or Treating).
And he's the guy who gave the evening's celebrations their name.
Tonight is Guy Fawkes' Night. Or Bonfire Night. Or Fireworks Night (because let's not deny it--there's no better way to big up a fire than to send it whooshing up into the sky).
And whether your nation was delivered 404 years ago or 8, it's time to celebrate the fact with flames. If your township doesn't allow actual fires, light a candle and imagine loud explosions. And thank your lucky stars that you don't live in anarchy, ready for a foreign power to descend upon you. That's the real spirit of Guy Fawkes' Day. And it's worth celebrating, no matter what nation you belong to.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Mischief Night, Part II
Tonight, the night of November 4th, is Mischief Night.
Hold on, you may ask, wasn't that on October 30th? Well, maybe for some, but not for everybody. Mischief Night is the night before the biggest celebration of the early autumn. In the United States, that's Halloween. In England, it's November 5th.
To get some idea of why, do yourself a favor and rent V for Vendetta. Or borrow the graphic novel. Or just read tomorrow's blog.
Suffice it to say that anyone of English descent (especially those who live in England, Australia, and New Zealand) can quite legitimately say "Tonight I'm allowed to set fires, light firecrackers, and generally cause a ruckus. Because my country was almost brought into anarchy and overrun 404 years ago, but it survived."
And that's a cause worth celebrating!
Hold on, you may ask, wasn't that on October 30th? Well, maybe for some, but not for everybody. Mischief Night is the night before the biggest celebration of the early autumn. In the United States, that's Halloween. In England, it's November 5th.
To get some idea of why, do yourself a favor and rent V for Vendetta. Or borrow the graphic novel. Or just read tomorrow's blog.
Suffice it to say that anyone of English descent (especially those who live in England, Australia, and New Zealand) can quite legitimately say "Tonight I'm allowed to set fires, light firecrackers, and generally cause a ruckus. Because my country was almost brought into anarchy and overrun 404 years ago, but it survived."
And that's a cause worth celebrating!
Monday, November 2, 2009
Day of the Dead Authors
Now that Halloween is over, we can really begin to celebrate!
Halloween is the evening before All Hallows' Day or All Saints' Day, which comes the day before All Souls' Day. These days are designed for us to revere the departed--which in most healthy cultures means to celebrate the lives of the dead, rather than get all glum about their being dead. The Mexican misnomer, the Day of the Dead, actually spans three days from October 31st to November 2nd, and involves music, fun, and sugar skulls--all of which meet with our hearty approval.
The souls of children are supposed to return to join in the celebration on November 1, with the creakier old adult spirits following on November 2nd. To prepare for their arrival, families usually clean and decorate their kinsmen's graves with ofrendas of marigold wreaths and toys for los angelitos (the kiddies) and bottles of tequila or mezcalfor adults. In the home, they prepare food and drink for the deceased, but eat everything they leave behind on their plates.
Eighty years ago, the United States threw another celebration into the pot for November 1st: Author's Day. Presumably, in the great stew of holidays at this time of year, we should celebrate dead authors. So I'll be raising a skull-shaped glass of meszcal to Edgar Allen Poe. And in my wildest dreams, I'll aspire to his greatness as we also enter National Novel Writing Month (www.nanowrimo.org)--a month that begins with three days of the dead, and is supposed to end with a completely finished novel.
Well, we can dream, can't we?
Halloween is the evening before All Hallows' Day or All Saints' Day, which comes the day before All Souls' Day. These days are designed for us to revere the departed--which in most healthy cultures means to celebrate the lives of the dead, rather than get all glum about their being dead. The Mexican misnomer, the Day of the Dead, actually spans three days from October 31st to November 2nd, and involves music, fun, and sugar skulls--all of which meet with our hearty approval.
The souls of children are supposed to return to join in the celebration on November 1, with the creakier old adult spirits following on November 2nd. To prepare for their arrival, families usually clean and decorate their kinsmen's graves with ofrendas of marigold wreaths and toys for los angelitos (the kiddies) and bottles of tequila or mezcalfor adults. In the home, they prepare food and drink for the deceased, but eat everything they leave behind on their plates.
Eighty years ago, the United States threw another celebration into the pot for November 1st: Author's Day. Presumably, in the great stew of holidays at this time of year, we should celebrate dead authors. So I'll be raising a skull-shaped glass of meszcal to Edgar Allen Poe. And in my wildest dreams, I'll aspire to his greatness as we also enter National Novel Writing Month (www.nanowrimo.org)--a month that begins with three days of the dead, and is supposed to end with a completely finished novel.
Well, we can dream, can't we?
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