It’s that time of year again! Following on from a 405 year-old tradition, the whole nation is preparing to send health and safety checks into overload as billions of pounds worth of rockets, Catherine wheels and roman candles across Britain will, literally, go up in smoke. For the vast majority of us, this is all just meant to be a bit of fun (though perhaps not harmless). Children of all ages will delight in trying to write their names in the air using their sparkler, schools will charge extortionate prices just for people to gain entry to a firework display, even though they could just stand on the roof of their car outside and still get a good view, and canines, great and small, are in preparation to deafen us with their howls of fright as the first bang goes off.
Now, I won’t deny, I love firework night. Meat-less burgers from dodgy catering vans, tacky glow sticks that lose their illumination after a few minutes, and over-priced fairground rides are all part of the excitement that is the British Firework Night, but this really is a million miles away from what really happened the first time this evening was celebrated. We all know the story of the gunpowder plot: Guy Fawkes and his team are angry with king, they load gunpowder under the Houses of Parliament, and then just before they light the fuse, guards come and arrest him. Hip hip hurray, the King is saved and everyone lights a bonfire with a burning effigy of the Guy to celebrate etcetera, etcetera and so forth.
The problem is that this near act of terrorism is being used to commemorate the continuity of what was then a barbaric absolute monarchy where freedom of religion was not allowed, hence the plot taking place.
What’s more, the resultant prisoner, Guy Fawkes, found himself on the wrong end of a very tight noose, and then as an unrequested final wish, was allowed to see his own intestines, as his stomach was cut open just before his final breath. And it is this, ladies and gentlemen, that we spend an evening of neck-craning and violent shivering celebrating every year!
An interesting point that I noticed in the Times last week was that we have been getting rid of Christian symbols from Christmas left, right and centre for fear of offending other faiths, yet by burning an a straw replica of a 17th century catholic is not even considered to be offensive to those in the Vatican.
Now whilst I’m not suggesting a national boycott of Firework Night, unlike the Fire Service, it is important to remember why we are actually commemorating this event, otherwise it’s true meaning will become long forgotten like with so many other ‘special days’ this country celebrates, but for some, they’re not sure quite sure why.