Romantic Pollution: Love is in the Air, Part 2

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animals, history, love, men, nudity, opinion, romance, rome, tradition, Valentine's Day

In part 1 I made quite a strong case against the sending of Valentine’s Day cards. If my unbiased reasoning didn’t persuade you, you’re a lost cause anyway, but I will nonetheless take the liberty of pointing out that the generic Valentine’s Day cards are killing trees. Are you absolutely sure that you will be able to live with yourselves if you realize that you are responsible for the Valentine’s Day Tree Massacre? Now, I would hate to influence you in any way; however, you’re invited to think extensively about your carbon footprint.

Photo source: http://www.zazzle.co.uk/singles+against+valentines+day+cards

Now that I have provided you with a sound excuse for forgetting to send a card (- My pleasure), let us go back to a time when men didn’t have to buy chocolate or flowers and women pretended to be OK with that. So, many years ago, in a place that we now call Rome, there was a festival called Lupercalia.

As far as I can remember, February has always been associated with emotional and bodily cleansing (even in ancient Rome). Lupercalia happened to be one of the most important festivals of the period. Symbolically, it was similar to modern Lent, but since this was pre-Christian era we describe these customs as savage and uncouth. Priests and ordinary folk gathered at the place where the power duo Romulus and Remus were said to have been found by their adoptive mother the she-wolf (btw, “lupus” is Latin for “wolf”, therefore Lupercalia …). Animal sacrifice was an essential part of this event. The unlucky mammal chosen for the job was either a goat or a dog (whichever was easier to come by in those days). After the nasty part was over, they used the blood to smear the foreheads of the desirable men (you’ll soon see why). The other distinguishing feature was full frontal nudity. Let me elaborate.

Photo source: http://www.timelessmyths.com/classical/rome.html

Dashing young Romans with eye-popping abdominals had to take off all of their clothes in order to move freely around the gathered congregation. You know how clothes like to get in the way of running around and gallivanting … However, before the athletic section of the evening began, the young gentlemen had to fortify themselves by eating and drinking to their heart’s content (and their stomach’s capacity). Then, unhindered by their under-garments, they each grabbed a strip of goat skin (they couldn’t let it go to waste, could they?) and hit married women with it.

Yes ladies, I realize that this sounds like a textbook example of domestic violence, but let me assure you that it was not so. In those long-forgotten days, women were willing to expose themselves to a slight whipping on the back every once in a while. On February 15 of each calendar year, women received a ceremonial lashing in order to ensure their fertility. You get the picture: man hits woman with a phallic-shaped object, woman starts to bleed and nine months later she is in the throes of childbirth. It represented “symbolic penetration” because men were not stupid enough to actually allow the vigorous youth to perform the marital duties for them. Just think of it as the old-fashioned equivalent of the pharmaceutical industry.

A fun fact. It seems that not every young man could become one of the venerable Luperci. The priest eliminated from the pageant all bearded men. It seems that the individuals in question were found irresistible because of it. How times have changed! Today men are discouraged from growing facial hear and I think it’s for the best. We shave, you shave. That’s the deal.

Well, so much for the Romans. Now, as the suck-face fest of 2013 is rapidly approaching, I only have some last-minute words of wisdom to impart to all love birds. Those of you who still haven’t found the perfect gift don’t panic (it’s bad for the heart) and for heaven’s sake don’t go buying some silly thing like a 12 pound teddy bear. It might have been cute when you were seven, but anyone above the mental age of 12 should possess sufficient amount of good sense to avoid the toy-section of department stores (on Valentine’s day).

One last thing, last year I remember not getting any flowers or chocolate delivered to my home. It almost made me think that this was intentional. I’m certain there had to have been a mix-up at the post office. Fortunately, I’m not a person to give up and throw in the towel at the first difficulty. Therefore, I’ve decided that this year all persons wishing to prove their burning passion for me (I know you’re out there), can do it in a very organized way. Just follow the instructions at the bottom of the page. Remember, absolutely anyone can join this terrific cause.

Goodnight and Happy Valentine’s Day. May Love be ever in your favour.

Instructions:

Ground rules:

1. Will not except the following: flowers (too cheesy), chocolate (the exam period has not been particularly kind to my figure).

2. Cards are out of the question – didn’t you read the post?!

3. However, I might give my heart away for a good book. For further information you can contact me via telepathy.

4. Personal dedication: Selma G. you’re a dear and I love you to bits. Here’s to friendship!

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Romantic Pollution: Love is in the air, Part 1

Tags

chocolate, friendship, Harry Potter, history, love, romance, Shakespeare, Valentine's Day

There are 256 shades of red. I think this week I managed to see every single one of them. I suppose all shopkeepers must believe that without the red colour extravaganza flashing at innocent passers-by the world would collectively forget the emotional whirlpool in the middle of February. Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day, but that is no excuse for stores to sell exclusively heart-shaped candy containing cheesy verse (that’s right kraft foods, I’m talking to you). Really, why in Venus’s name is that necessary? If I want to stuff my face with chocolate pralines, I don’t need to hear some cliché line about “tender pleasures from the bottom of the heart”. I would much more appreciate a random fact about climate change. For example: “While you’re deciding whether to buy this chocolate or not, the Amazonian Rainforest is being destroyed. Therefore, by the chocolate and go save the world.” I offer this slogan for free. You’re welcome.

Photo source: http://advancedhairstyle.com/hair-style/shades-of-red-hair-color.html

Romantic pollution is a problem, but more about this anon. What I really wanted to focus my attention on is the rich lore surrounding Valentine’s Day. As usual, the holidays sometimes loose some of their meaning if we forget the centuries of rich tradition behind them. For this reason alone, I decided to offer a short walk down History Lane and take a peak at some familiar myths surrounding the festival of romantic love.

For example, did you know that the original Valentine was a martyr? Well, now you do. Indeed, he was a poor romantic soul who could not suffer to see true lovers separated and since the course of true love never did run smooth, it so happened that some powerful man (let’s call him Emperor Claudius) was against love and wanted to keep couples from living happily ever after. Very unfairy-tale like. Ok, maybe I slightly misinterpreted history, but the fact is that some soldiers weren’t allowed to marry in order to concentrate on more important things in life like carousing, raping and pilfering. We wouldn’t want that qualities in men to disappear just because having a family could teach them empathy. Just imagine what other soldiers would think.

The point remains that in some regiments marriage was prohibited. As mentioned above, the decision was made by an emperor who must have thought that babies come from Ciconia Ciconia (aka the white stork) and was probably a man whore himself. In any case, Valentinus wouldn’t have this, so he married the lucky doves in secret. Unfortunately, there is always some bitter person who has been left at the altar and that miserable git denounced Valentinus to the emperor. The poor creature then died a gruesome death (a moment of silence, if you please).  In honour of this occasion, I’m being made a martyr as well. On February 14, while lovers all over the world will stare in each other’s eyes and exchange tender vows of eternal affection (with Two Cellos (cover) version of With or Without You playing in the background), I will be behind close doors writing about the cultural and political impact of religious quarrels on 17^th century French literature. And after the exam, I’ll get to go home to revise for another exam. It feels as if my wildest romantic fantasies are finally coming true.

However, let us not be completely pessimistic about the immediate future. In order to cheer up, I think we should hear another slightly made-up legend about our brave Valentinus. Where did I finish? Oh yes, he died, but before that he managed to give rise to yet another Valentine’s Day tradition, namely the famous Valentine’s Day card. They might have imprisoned him and threatened to end his life, but he kept his spirits high. Even during his imprisonment, he kept busy. The story goes that he healed the turnkey’s daughter and befriended her, although not necessarily in that order. So, when he felt Death’s cruel touch approaching, he sent her a card to thank her for her friendship and he signed it “Your Valentine”. Truly, the man was a saint.

Photo source: http://www.dumpaday.com/random-pictures/funny-pictures/funny-pictures-of-the-day-51-pics/attachment/funny-valentines-day-card/

As for myself, I don’t believe in writing cards for Valentine’s Day – I mean, I don’t want any written evidence of a long-forgotten crush come haunting me some day. Sure, it’s not as compromising as nude photos (seriously people, you really thought they wouldn’t get discovered?!), but it’s a terrible burden anyway. I cannot forget that scene from Harry Potter where Ginny sends him a Valentine’s Day card that belches out some atrociously maudlin song (this is the wizard world after all – if cars can fly, cards can sing). Why people invite such shame on themselves I will never know. There is not a Memory Charm strong enough to efface that kind of humiliation. I remember blushing for her and for Harry.

In case you don’t find Harry Potter legitimate literature, I have another example that proves my point and it’s from Shakespeare. Do you by any chance remember the unlikeable Malvolio from Twelfth Night? He also received/found a note that he decided was addressed to him. It might not have been a Valentine’s Day card per se, but it was certainly written in that anonymous spirit (and sent with malevolent intent). Of course, the guy had his faults, but I think what Maria did was cruel. Even though the text itself doesn’t give exactly this impression, I remember watching the 1996 film version where I really sympathised with the character. I mean one should never play with other people’s sentiments, no matter how stupid the reason. Making Malvolio believe that Olivia was in love with him was almost too painful to watch. If any low-life nitwit ever dares to do that to me, I reserve myself the right to remodel his face. There is a limit to humour. In my case, it is when retribution engenders brutal physical violence.

To be continued …