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Happy winter solstice

One of the things I like best about December is that, at this darkest time of the year, The Holidays give us something to celebrate. When we light the Christmas tree or the Hanukkah candles, we recapitulate thousands of years of human history. The winter solstice tells us that we are over the worst of the darkness, if not the worst of the winter. Ancient peoples made great efforts to get the date of the solstice exactly right because they were fearful that the sun might never come back. Stonehenge is just one example. It’s the biggest and heaviest calendar in the world and only tells two dates: the summer solstice in June and the winter solstice in December.

Ever since these special moments in the year were discovered, they have been celebrated. The Babylonians had Sacaea, their winter festival of renewal. The Romans of classical times had their Saturnalia, a sort of extended Happy Hour. It was an unabashed orgy of eating, drinking, and spending, and perhaps in its excess, came the closest to what we now call The Holidays, which isn’t surprising given that Imperial Roman culture was in so many ways similar to our own. We imitate their architecture and their ruthless politics, so why shouldn’t we copy their winter celebration? The Scandinavian and German peoples have their Yule Feast, a staider version of the same thing. These winter festivities are among the oldest of all human traditions. It would be a shame to give them up now.

I like the way decorated houses light up suburban darkness, although I have reservations about inflatable Santa Clauses and plastic reindeer with flashing noses. It is a time to be sociable and even convivial and indulge in the food and drink of the season. All kinds of special treats come out of the closet: rich cakes and puddings, extravagant cookies, and drinks that we’d scarcely dare to try at any other time of year. Every rule of health and nutrition is abandoned, and that feels so good. In my mostly abstemious family decades ago, Christmas was permission for our numerous aunts and uncles to imbibe lethal drinks like port, eggnog, Tia Maria, Crème de Menthe, and even brandy, with results that were very gratifying for a curious young boy to observe. Who knew that grownups could behave like that?

I especially appreciate the fact that, just for one day, the frenzy of life will be switched off. Some stores can’t resist opening, but Dec. 25 is mostly very quiet outdoors, magically quiet, whatever family dramas may be unfolding indoors.

 There are downsides, of course. What drives me crazy about this season is what drives most people crazy – the frenzied commercialism of it all. By the middle of December, we’re ready to scream, “Scrooge was right!”

We are encouraged, and indeed almost required, to be merry and joyful, which doesn’t come naturally to most of us. Acting merry and joyful in public places can get you arrested. The ancient Druids may or may not have been merry and joyful at the Solstice – I rather doubt that they were – but they did celebrate the date because it meant that time was, as it were, on time and that the seasons would change. Winter must come and, in the immortal words of Percy Bysshe Shelley, never a man to avoid a cliché: “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”

David began as a print journalist in London and taught at a British university for almost 20 years. He joined WSHU as a weekly commentator in 1992, becoming host of Sunday Matinee in 1996.