Remember, remember the 5th of November?

While the evenings may be properly dark and depressing now, the one thing I do miss about being in the motherland at this time of year is the  chance to celebrate the quintessentially English “festival” of Guy Fawkes (sometimes Bonfire) Night. This is not, under any circumstances, to be confused with Burns’ Night.

I haven’t been home for 5th November for a long, long time. I was waxing lyrical to Mr B about fireworks, jacket potatoes, tomato soup, toffee applees and sparklers only this morning and so was saddened to read this piece that the commercialism and “fun” of Hallowe’en seem to have taken over this time of the year.

Back when Remedial Wife was a girl, Guy Fawkes night was still magical; the bonfire in the garden or in town and the chance to choose a firework each and have a few sparklers. I must admit that as I got older and learned the history of the Gunpowder Plot and the significance of burning the Guy, it did all seem rather bloodthirsty. Like Hallowe’en, this didn’t actually diminish the fun of the evening but it did make me glad I lived in a period when tortue of political prisoners is at least frowned upon.

Here’s hoping that I will get to bring Mr B to a traditional Bonfire Night sharpish before it disappears into folk memory. Is this just globalisation in action?

Remember, remember the 5th of November

With gunpowder, treason and plot

I know of no reason why gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot *

Traditional English rhyme

3 responses

  1. I somehow always loved the end of bonfire night. When the fireworks and music in the parks of London had ended and EVERYBODY was streaming out to the next pub to get a pint before the ring of the last orders’ bell. It was this sense of neighbourhood I guess.

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