Bonfire Night

It’s not easy explaining Bonfire Night to Americans. I failed miserably every year for the three years we were in the States.

‘Ooh! It’s Bonfire Night tonight in Britain!’ I would exclaim gleefully.

‘What’s that?’

‘Well…..we create an effigy of this bloke called Guy Fawkes, and then we build an enormous bonfire, throw him onto it……and burn him!’

YUK!!! HOW MACABRE!!!

‘Okay, so it’s not considered PC or seemly these days to burn effigies…..so mostly we just build the bonfire and stand around watching fireworks go off whilst we drink hot soup or eat baked potatoes and parkin* and chew treacle toffee. But that’s what it’s about……burning Guy Fawkes……’ Hmm.

There’s been a move in recent years to encourage big, organised bonfires - the kind where you can’t actually stand anywhere near the fire itself so you end up freezing. Most of the joy of a bonfire is in standing close and staring into the heart of it, letting your imagination conjure pictures from the flames.

When I was small every street had its own bonfire. We built them ourselves, collecting the wood over a period of weeks or even months. Anticipation of the event would grow as the bonfire grew. Come the night itself, you had to check for hedgehogs that may have made a cosy home for themselves underneath the wood pile.

And then there was the guy. We made him ourselves, too, in scarecrow fashion; then wheeled him from door to door in someone’s go-kart or toy pram, demanding ‘penny-for-the-guy’ at each house.

As for the fireworks, they were few in number and usually tame compared to what’s available now. A few rockets, a catherine wheel or two and sparklers. Always sparklers. We’d write our names in the air, trying to finish before the first letters disappeared into the night; clinging clumsily to the slippy, metallic stalks with hands chunkily mittened.

We’d watch our breath freeze in the air; stamp our feet to keep the cold at bay; go home weary, hair and clothes reeking of smoke; find the remains of the fire still burning the following morning…..

Times change, but I’m glad the bonfires continue. My husband once flew from the south coast of England up to the north on a crystal clear 5^th November evening. And the whole journey through, he could see bonfire after bonfire after bonfire burning below him. A chain of beacons glowing in the night. A very British tradition.



For information about the origins of Bonfire Night and the traditions associated with it, go to my favourite website of all - that of Woodlands Junior School.



*Parkin is a type of ginger cake containing oatmeal.

Comments

[hope | paper relics]

Sounds like a holiday I would love to partake in! And really, you just cannot get good toffee here in the US!

[Rosanna]

Well, I kind of get the bonfire part, and the Guy Fawkes bit. But what is this ‘penny-for-the-guy’ thing?

[Dixon Hill Girl]

Children would traditionally request a 'penny-for-the-guy' they had made. They'd then use the pennies to buy fireworks. :)

[The Morning After The Night Be]

[...] was Bonfire Night in the UK last night.  From where we live, on the side of the valley, we could see several [...]