More about celebrating Halloween, from a non-expert in the field

To follow on from my recent post about the Halloween cultural divide, I thought I'd elaborate on the religious aspect of abstaining from Halloween. Please keep in mind, I'm not a scholar, an expert, or even an amateur practitioner in Biblical scholarship; in the capacity in which I discuss this topic, I'm simply a regular church goer who can do research.

From what I have experienced, the issue with Halloween in our Anglican church is about comsumerism and sending children out into the streets to beg for sweets. I think both themes are supported by Ephesians 6: 11 - 18, certainly with issues of pandering to the fleshly lures of free chocolates and spending unnecessary money on custumes and such. There's also the mentioned "breastplate of righteousness", which certainly covers the same.

I know the dressing up to resemble departed souls doesn't seem to be the problem. This custom is embraced by many cultures and the Anglicans mark this event with an all souls service. As Encyclopædia Britannica explains:

All Souls’ Day, in the Roman Catholic church, a day for commemoration of all the faithful departed, those baptized Christians who are believed to be in purgatory because they have died with the guilt of lesser sins on their souls. It is celebrated on November 2. Roman Catholic doctrine holds that the prayers of the faithful on earth will help cleanse these souls in order to fit them for the vision of God in heaven.

From antiquity certain days were devoted to intercession for particular groups of the dead. The institution of a day for a general intercession on November 2 is due to Odilo, abbot of Cluny (d. 1048). The date, which became practically universal before the end of the 13th century, was chosen to follow All Saints’ Day. Having celebrated the feast of all the members of the church who are believed to be in heaven, the church on earth turns, on the next day, to commemorate those souls believed to be suffering in purgatory.

Priests celebrate mass wearing vestments of varying colour—black (for mourning), violet (symbolizing penance), or white (symbolizing the hope of resurrection).

OK, that was clearly way more than necessary but it does confirm the acceptance of dealing with the dead. The church clearly isn't afraid of people dressing up to look like dead people.

Here's more on the topic, from the 20 October 2006 issue of Church Times:

"The restoration of All Saints Day and All Souls Day in the national consciousness is clearly some way off. A trip round the displays in Woolworths or Clinton Cards reveals that the 21st-century Halloween has considerable bulk, but no substance, and not the slightest connection to ths Christian teaching behind the season that is, a joyful celebration of the saints in glory, and a sober contemplation of death and what lies beyond."

However, this school of thought was contradicted, in my opinion, by the Bishop of Bolton, the Rt Revd David Gillett, who met with the five biggest retail chains in this country and urged them to offer less scary alternatives to the typical goulish Halloween junk. If the primary concerns have to do with consumerism and righteousness, why ask stores to offer more stuff that families can buy?

All of this is food for thought, and I'm sure there are indeed better ways to use the money I spent on Halloween candy for the trick-or-treaters. I do, however, think the gesture of going around to see your neighbours and having a quick nice word is indeed a good thing, and something that is a real pleasure in being the grown-up on Halloween. You get to see everyone enjoying the evening, see several neighbours I don't see any other way, and get to have a good laugh at the fabness of the costumes. Surely that has a value that the church hasn't considered?

Yet another aspect of the cultural divide

Celebrating Halloween is yet another aspect of the US-UK cultural divide. I didn't understand this until I became a parent and am raising a child in the American ways of addressing the holiday. Each year Bailey's grandmother sends Bailey lovely Halloween costumes from the States and each year when I take Bailey trick-or-treating, there are remarks about how sweet she looks. Of course she looks sweet but anyone would compared to how locals dress for Halloween. It seems the local English way is to dress up as scary/gruesome/upsetting as possible and then go beg for some chocolates. Accordingly, over half of the houses in our family-based neighbourhood were completely dark last night.

There are some insights into this division. The Independent has an interesting op-ed on the topic. The BBC also sheds a little light. I too have an insight. I thing it comes down to begging. Most people don't want people turning up on their doorsteps asking for food, and trick-or-treaters seem to fall into this category.

In truth, I prefer the ideal of the US model, where Halloween is an event for little kids to dress up and visit friends and family, and get decent sweeties. I'm doing my best for the cause, with our carved pumpkins and welcoming demeanor, and of course by taking a very well costumed little girl around the neighbourhood.

There's also the issue of how the Anglican faith deals with Halloween and it's Pagan origins, but that's another topic for another day...

The Underground Restaurant

This summer has flown by. I had the purest of intentions to blog my way through the fun, but the fun took up too much time. Sorry folks! Now that I'm back at work after my summer holidays, I have a little time to post some updates.

The obvious place to start is our dinner at the Underground Restaurant. We attended this beautiful and intriguing eating club on 15 July, with a dinner to celebrate Bastille Day. The meal was in the French theme, with a menu and ambiance (including an accordian player doing his best traditional hits, as well as Radiohead) to match. If you check out the photos and commentary from that event on the host's blog, you'll see all the fine details (yes, people, that bread was as delicious as it looks). You'll also see me (in the top photo on the blog, in the upper one-fifth of the page, just to the left of the light, I'm drinking some of the lovely wine on offer that night) enjoying the festivities.

There were several memorable aspects of the evening. First had to be the range of guests this event gathered. We met some interesting, funny, witty, and charming people, and the host certainly had all these traits and more. There wasn't a moment of dull and/or obligatory conversation; everyone was chatty and engaging.

The next had to be the beauty of eating in someone's home. There was no doubt that we were guests in someone's loved residence. The surroundings of the dinner enforced the fact that one person (with a bit of help, I'm sure) prepared this delicious and beautifully presented meal, in her own home. This gave me the pleasure of having dinner as a guest in someone's home (instead of a restaurant) and all the enjoyable social aspects that surround that type of get-together.

The next was the thoughtfulness of the menu (all French, with the beauty of the English ways thrown in) and the comdination of the food and drink. Everything we ate was simply delicious, but the courses worked with each other. The food and drink sparked discussion and questions; how cool is that?

Lastly, I adored the social aspect of the event. We all know food brings people together, but this food brought cool and nice people together. Getting to chat with cool and nice strangers is a good thing, and I wish my life had more of the opportunities each day.

If you are at all intrigued by this, please give it a go. The tickets can be booked through this site. Bon appetit!

More Moore

On Saturday Simon and I went to the Henry Moore Foundation at Perry Green. We're talking fab stuff here. We had the Moore house (including vintage 1970's decor), all the workshops and studios, beautiful gardens, twenty-five sculptures, and loads of sheep. What more could you want from a day?

The greatness of Rufus Wainwright

On Monday night I went to Oxford to see Rufus Wainwright perform at the New Theatre. I went with lovely Peta, my colleague and friend, and the perfect companion for an evening in Oxford.

We started with, what else?, dinner. We ate at Jamie's Italian. While we were enjoying a glass of Merlot in the bar, we saw Rufus Wainwright come in and ask for a table, but the 15-minute wait didn't suit his schedule so he left. I was devastated! Thankfully the delicious food, fun conversation, and great service got me over the loss and I enjoyed myself.

The concert? Well, it was fab in many ways. The first half was a performance of his new release, and the audience was asked to withhold applause until after he had completely finished and exited the stage. Here is what was read to the audience before the show...

The first part of the program will be performed as a song cycle with visuals by Douglas Gordon. During the first set, Rufus has asked that you please do not applaud until after he has left the stage. His exit is part of the piece. After a brief intermission, Rufus will return for the second part of the show during which you may applaud to your heart's content. Please also refrain from photography during the first set.

This part of the show was heavy going, due to serious music and a video performance of a heavily-made up eyeball that made my belly feel funny.

The second half was much more my style, casual, chatty, and full of many familiar songs, thanks to the tour set list poll. There were amusing stories and explanations between songs and it was a real pleasure. Highlights for me include Poses ("Life is a game and true love is a trophy"), The Art Teacher, and Leaving for Paris, but the entire act was a real delight.

A moment of family laughter, thanks to David Sedaris

Yesterday as we drove up north to see my lovely in-laws, we were listening to Radio 4 (what else?). At 11:30AM, they broadcast David Sedaris telling one of his stories of living in Paris, rinding the Metro, and observing visiting Americans. Our little family was listening and laughing as we exited the M6 and headed to Atherton, even Bailey laughed (I think it was because the words "stink pot" were used). When we arrived at Jack and Jean's, their radio was on in the kitchen and they both too had been listening to the same broadcast. Three generations of the same family had a laugh at the same time, all courtesy of David Sedaris' wit.

OK, and imagine my pleasure when I got to tell my in-laws that Liz and I had recently seen him read from his work and met him in London.

Paris on my mind

After having spent five days in Paris, I'm still rather full of thoughts of the fine city. Maybe updating the blog will help clear my mind...

We stayed in the Marais, at Hôtel Jeanne d'Arc le Marais. It was in a fabulous location and offered all we could want in terms of the Metro and walking. Our room had a charming view and the common rooms of the hotel were decorated in a mix of fun and funk. Our room was not yet redecorated, so it still had a very old school French hotel vibe to it, but we were content.

On our first day in town (Wednesday), we went to the Musée Carnavalet. This museum covering the history of Paris was a good one to get us going. I was especially taken with the drums used to call the revolutionaries into action. Bailey enjoyed the small-scale models of Paris through the years.

We also went to the Galerie des bibliothèques-Ville de Paris to see the Paris inondé 1910 show. Here we learned about the flood of Paris in 1910, and saw photographs of the aftermath.

That night, thanks to pre-booked tickets, we headed to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Pre-booked tickets are where it's at; no queues, no fuss. Fab fab fab.

Thursday 18 February:
First thing we headed to the Catacombes de Paris. Although I had been before, Simon and Bailey hadn't so we thought it would be a good family excursion. It's one of those fascinating/frightening kind of places, but once the fright subsides, the beauty of the bones is quite moving. I also think this kind of place is a great way to keep it all in perspective...

We also visited the Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson at 2, Impasse Lebouis in the 14th. This small museum tucked behind a lively primary school offered a brief look into the photography of Henri Cartier-Bresson (I'm glad I saw a much larger show of his almost two years ago at the National Media Museum in Bradford ) and had a current exhibit of the other side of Parisian life according to Robert Doisneau.

That evening we hit the Centre Pompidou, to see the elles@centrepompidou show. The all-female artists gave me a sense of pride, as a woman and a momma. The mix of ideas and themes kept me going, and kept me on my toes as a parent, as Simon and I both vetted the pieces on the spot to judge their appropriateness for a curious 6 year old.

Friday 19 February:
We headed to the Grand Palais Paris to see Christian Boltanski'a exhibit, Personnes. The message of this exhibit was strong and clear; all the care and selection we put into our clothing and eventually the items end up discarded. Food for thought.

We used our time near the Champs-Elysees to take a lovely stroll along the avenue. We made a few shopping stops along the way. Our favourite by far was at Sephora. Bailey was offered a bit of make-up application (under the close supervision of me!) and I got to smell all the fragrances.

In the evening Bailey and I went ice skating at de l'Hôtel de Ville. We stuck to the kiddie rink and Bailey had a fun time making two new friends. Everyone we saw was having a really good time, which made for a good feel to the place. People were chatting with each other, and even the staff were cheery.

Saturday 20 February:
On the last day of my 39th year, we headed to the churches. We visited Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis, Sainte Chapelle, and Notre Dame.

We used the evening to take a Seine cruise from the Pont Neuf, and finished off the night with a walk along the Rive Gauche. We stopped in at Shakespeare and Company, for old time's sake, and found it full of lovely books and young poseurs; not much changes.

Sunday 21 February:
I turned 40 and we also had to return home, so we didn't have all the time I would've liked (alas, is there ever enough time in Paris?). We stayed in the Marais and returned to the Musée Carnavalet, to see a few things we missed on Wednesday, including their ballroom and the exhibit of photographs taken in prison, Les prisons se dévoilent.

Our Eurostar from Gare du Nord left just after lunch, and the journey was calm. Thankfully we were not part of this Eurostar drama; I suspect I wouldn't have been able to cope.

Overall, the good...
Just being in Paris, walking the streets and seeing a mix of art, life, and aesthetics.

Being there with Bailey and Simon. We make an entertaining travelling trio but the best part is seeing Bailey walk all over Paris like it's all hers, then use her simple and very limited French to speak with people.

The food is Paris is as delightful as ever. Even stopping for a coffee is an enjoyable experience for the senses (and, yes, my 40th year begins with a serious diet).

The bad...
Musee Picasso is closed for rennovation work. I was disappointed because I really wanted to go again and because it was so very close to our hotel.

Mona Lisa is so well protected, it's impossible to get the feel for the beauty of the portrait. Bailey asked more than once if that was the real Mona Lisa, certainly because even a small child has doubt when you can't get within 10 feet of it..

The ugly...
I had possibly the most disgusting moment of my life on this trip. We were walking along the Prefecture du police of the 4th arrondissement building at the other side of Notre Dame and someone vomited on me from several floors above. I wasn't the only one splatted; the other person who took the brunt of the load was French and he went on a complete rant to the two police officers who saw the entire episode. I was shocked, I think, and it took me a few moments to ask the police for help. One of them took me into the police washroom, but strongly advised me to return to my hotel and take a shower. Due to the need to return to the hotel, wash all my clothing by hand (including my winter coat) using shower gel, shower with very hot water and loads of soap, then find a suitable outfit for warmth for the rest of the day, I lost a decent part of my early afternoon. I also looked like a complete dork walking around in Paris wearing Simon's fleece pull-over instead of a coat, but no amount of vomit could keep me from returning to the Parisian streets.

In 15 years of travelling to Paris, I've witnessed some gross things and have seen some surreal interactions, but I've never been involved. I guess those odds aren't bad.