184. Remember, Remember
Watching the fireworks in my pyjamas.
In which Rebecca shares her plans to see sparks from her window as the village marks the anniversary of a political November near-miss.
Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...
(Opening lines of a traditional English folk verse)
Dear Reader,
Our neighbours across the pond have their own reasons for remembering the fifth of November, for this year they had fireworks of their own. Here in Britain, however, the date marks the anniversary of a literally explosive political event having been foiled at the last moment.
Guy Fawkes Night, also known as Guy Fawkes Day, Bonfire Night and Fireworks Night, is an annual commemoration observed on 5 November, primarily in Great Britain, involving bonfires and fireworks displays. Its history begins with the events of 5 November 1605, when Guy Fawkes, a member of the Gunplowder Plot, was arrested while guarding explosives the plotters had placed beneath the House of Lords. The Catholic plotters had intended to assassinate Protestant king James I and his parliament. Celebrating that the king had survived, people lit bonfires around London.
Leaving aside this historical near-miss assassination as an excuse for a party, dark, cold, crowded confusion has never been the kind of social scene to which I have ever felt attracted.
When I was a very young child I would associate the flashes and bangs of local bonfire celebrations with my early November birthday, and once we even had fireworks at home. I remember standing at the front door of our house with my mum and brother when I was very small, watching Dad do something in the dark on the drive involving a match… and then some sparks… and then…
💥 BANG! 💥
Reader, I don’t much like surprises.
I had gone to school in Lewes, site of the country’s largest bonfire night celebrations. Townspeople and representatives from bonfire societies all over the county converge on the streets of Lewes every November 5th for parades culminating in the burning of effigies at six fire sites. I loved Lewes Bonfire Night, but only because we would get to leave school early that day. On our way home we’d pass council representatives erecting ‘Road Closed’ and ‘No Parking’ signs, and watch as sighing business owners resigned to the melée of the evening ahead boarded up their shop windows in a sometimes successful effort to keep them whole.
Many local villages get in on the act every autumn with their own bonfire celebrations, with Saturday nights between early September and late November seeing different communities taking their turn at hosting a parade and firework display. Buses containing members of far-flung bonfire societies cross the county on a weekly basis, with massed participants converging at each location dressed in their themed costumes to join in with the fun. Our own village carnival takes place this evening.
‘Are you coming into the village tonight?’ Jim asked me this time last November, failing to hide the twinkle in his eye. He is out in the thick of it every year, taking photographs to submit to the press portals overnight.
Now, although I love the spectacle provided by a firework display – the dazzling starbursts of colour and pattern shooting across the winter sky – as Jim well knows I am not a fan of the bangs and the blasts.
So instead of heading down into the village with him in order to stand in a group of people with heads tilted upwards, their loud ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaaahs’ filling the air just as thickly as the acrid fug of spent cordite, last year I chose to keep my distance.
And thanks to some decent double glazing, a pair of striped pyjamas and a nice cup of tea, on Carnival Night I found that our landing was the quietest, warmest and most comfortable location to watch the spectacle.
Reader, it was beautiful.
I don’t need to be right in the thick of something to enjoy it in my own way. And there’s nothing wrong with watching the fireworks in my pyjamas from the landing window, is there?
Tonight I shall be doing the same, and yes, I’ll again have a cup of tea on the go.
Love,
Rebecca
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📚 About this post 📚
This is a reworked version of a post I’d first published in November 2023. If you recognise its subject matter from its first outing, thank you so much for reading it again. 😊
To my new readers: welcome! I’m so glad to have you reading my words. ❤️
Thank you for your patience reading posts based on my archive of previously-published words just while I haven’t been feeling too well recently. I’ll have some freshly-squeezed posts to bring you very soon!
You can see Jim's pictures of this year's carnival in the link below. The set includes images of the bonfire build, torch- and banner-making, and the flame-and-firework-heavy event itself.
https://www.jimholden.co.uk/community/east-hoathly-and-halland-carnival-2024/
My daughter and her spouse chose November 5 for their wedding day, in part because of "Remember, remember, the fifth of November." A good way to never forget the anniversary! It's so true now that the date is getting larded with events, personal and epic, so that it's even harder to forget. Even though sometimes you might wish you could forget....