Monthly Archives: December 2013

Looking Back, Looking Ahead

Janus

SIXTH DAY of CHRISTMAS:
New Year’s Eve, Hogmanay, First Footing

Just as the Roman god Janus looks back on the old year and forward to the new, so do these Twelve Days of Christmas, half of which fall in the old year and half in the new.  The month of January is named for Janus, a fitting tribute, for Janus does what we do as we cross that threshold, laying to rest the old year that has died, rejoicing in the new year now born.

Most all of us have traditions we follow at this threshold. Visit the grocery stores here in Lake Worth and the first thing you’ll see upon entering are black eyed peas and fresh collard greens, and not too far from them, champagne and grapes. Champagne at midnight on New Year’s Eve is, I think, pretty universal. The peas and greens are traditional New Year foods here in the South. As for the grapes, well, one old Italian tradition in my family is to eat twelve grapes at midnight, which we rarely do, but my sister has already bought the grapes and so this year, we are. On my dad’s side, Grandma Cutrone used to make sure everyone had a spoonful of lentils at the stroke of midnight.

In fact, the humble earthy lentil, cooked in various savory dishes, is very big throughout Italy for Capo d’Anno, the New Year. Lentils symbolize riches (think of each lentil as a coin, and you’d have quite a stash in each bowl). “Out with the old” is also very big in Italy for New Year’s Eve, and Italians traditionally make a clean sweep of things at midnight, opening the windows and tossing old useless possessions out onto the streets, no matter from what height (and with great gusto, no less). It can be a dangerous night for a walk about! The act is rich in symbolism, though: this is a night to shed what is unwanted, to dispel bad energy, to clear the way for good things to come.

In Scotland, New Year is perhaps the height of the Christmastide celebration. The New Year’s feast takes the name Hogmanay, which is thought to be a corruption of the French au gui menez, “lead to the mistletoe,” which calls to mind the Celtic druids of yore, for whom the mistletoe was sacred: the druids would climb the highest oaks with a golden sickle to cut the mistletoe that grew in its upper branches and bring it down (from the heavens) for the people.

Hogmanay has been celebrated in Scotland with great enthusiasm for centuries. As the bells tolled midnight, all of the doors and windows were flung open to let the old year out and to welcome in the new. This would be accompanied by exuberant banging of pots and pans, to scare off any vestiges of the old year that might remain.

One of the most important aspects of the Hogmanay celebration is known as First Footing: the first person after midnight to step across the threshold of the doorway is the person who brings fortune to the whole household. It should be the right kind of person, too, and so often families will make arrangements with a friend or acquaintance to make sure that happens, for the wrong kind of First Footer could bring bad luck for the year. The best of the First Footers, according to the custom, would be a red- or dark-haired man, and he would enter the home carrying a gift of whisky or mistletoe or else coal, bread, and salt. He would place the bread and salt on the table and the coal upon the fire. He would kiss all the women and shake hands with all the men twice: once upon entering, and once more after his gifts were given.

Here in South Florida, one of the most culturally diverse regions of the world, there are all kinds of customs for bringing in the new year. Fireworks go off at midnight. One friend of ours, who is from Honduras, gathers with his family and they all take turns running around the house with luggage. This, I think, ensures travels in the coming year. Another friend, who is also from Latin America, has a custom where everyone in attendance runs around the house at midnight donning underwear on top of their regular clothing. I have no idea what that ensures, but it’s quite a sight, I’m sure.

New Year’s Eve traditions all seem to have one thing in common: the universal wish for good things in the new year. And this is our wish, as well. Happy New Year.

Tagged ,

Quot Estis in Convivio

Feast

FIFTH DAY of CHRISTMAS:
Bring in the Boar

This day holds some particular fascination for us at Convivio Bookworks, for we took our name from an old British Christmas carol known as “The Boar’s Head Carol,” which is a centuries-old song that combines English and Latin verses. The carol speaks of a great feast… and we are known to love a good celebration here.

The Boar’s head in hand bear I
Bedecked with bays and rosemary
And I pray you, my masters, be merry
Quot estis in convivio! 
[So many as are at the feast!]

The Boar’s head, as I understand,
Is the rarest dish in all the land
When thus bedecked with a gay garland
Let us servire cantico! [Serve with a song!]

Caput apri defero,
Reddens laudes Domino! [The Boar’s head I bring, giving praises to God!]

Our steward hath provided this
In honor of the King of bliss,
Which on this day to be served is.
In Reginensi atrio! [In the Queen’s Hall!]

Caput apri defero,
Reddens laudes Domino!

Not that we’ve ever partaken of this particular dish. We have, however, sung the song while presenting a festive crown roast of pork at the table at Twelfth Night. “The Boar’s Head Carol” is a song fit for a feast, and feasting, such a big part of the Twelve Days of Christmas, is fittingly celebrated on this Fifth Day.

The boar is yet another Christmas tradition rooted in antiquity. Pigs and boar were sacred to the Celts, who viewed them as gifts from the Otherworld. The ferocious wild boar was an animal to be feared and respected, but in the bleak midwinter of the Northern Hemisphere, it could provide a feast for a great many people. I think in this day and age, the Fifth Day of Christmas serves as a good day to be thankful for the abundance of food we have, to acknowledge that sustenance (life) comes out of sacrifice, be it the death of an animal or plant. Let us be thankful for the sacred feast.

The Lord of Misrule

Joker

FOURTH DAY of CHRISTMAS:
The Feast of Fools

The Fourth Day of Christmas was traditionally given over to silliness, although this Feast of Fools played a part in the whole season, not just this one day… and here we get to traditions that go back further, to old pagan customs, as do so many of our Christmas customs. The Feast of Fools harkens back to the Roman celebration of Saturnalia, another solsticetide celebration, during which society would be turned on its head. Gambling, normally frowned upon, was practiced openly. Slaves were waited upon by their masters. Citizens disguised themselves behind masks. The natural order of things was ceremoniously reversed, and this is precisely the theme of the Feast of Fools, which had its heyday in medieval times.

This Feast of Fools has much in common with the custom of the Boy Bishop, and what can speak more to ceremonious reversals than making a leader out of the lowly and meek? While the Boy Bishop oversaw the cathedral for the Christmas season, it was the Lord of Misrule that oversaw the revels. The jester could become the lord, the servant the master. The Lord of Misrule reigned over the revelry with no fear of retribution.

The Feast of Fools is known in Latin as Asinaria Festa, Feast of the Ass. It was a lowly ass upon which Mary rode into Bethlehem, and an ox and an ass, according to the old carol, were there when the child was born in a stable that first Christmas night… and it was an ass that took top billing at some church services during the Twelve Days of Christmas in medieval times. Donkeys were sometimes allowed in churches during Christmas, and there are records of masses said during this time in which the normal response of “amen” was replaced with the entire congregation braying in unison.

So what brings on this madness and merrymaking? Certainly the mirth and good cheer of the season have plenty to do with it. But with half the Twelve Days of Christmas falling in the old year and half falling in the new, we are at the same time watching the old year die and witnessing the birth of a new one. The madness gives full voice to the disintegration of the old year––the old order––and we welcome in the new year, which is born out of chaos.

Order will return soon enough. The Lord of Misrule reigns until Twelfth Night, when a new lord appears: the King of the Bean. But that’s another story. For now, this Fourth Day of Christmas, this Feast of Fools, you have full license to be a little foolish. Make the most of it.

 

Tagged ,