Formals and Fireworks

England is a place of many contradictions. The striking one this week was between the high-society formal dinners held several times a week at each college, and the bonfire and fireworks celebration of Guy Fawkes Day on Nov 5.

(This is Clare in her formal gown at the college bar- funny to see a gown next to all those beer taps, right?)

Clare Hall, my college, doesn't follow any Cambridge traditions and I complained about that enough to my friend Clare (funny coincidental name- she should live in Clare Hall!) that she invited me to the formal at her college, Selwyn, which is ancient and very traditional. (Very kind of her, and probably an effective way to shut me up about missing out on wearing Harry Potter gowns and saying Latin prayers...) So we went to Selwyn on Tuesday (prior to Obama Night, which didn't start til about 2AM our time anyway). There were long Hogwarts tables for students and a separate table, the "high table", for fellows (professors). There was candlelight and an ancient dining hall with an enormous vaulted ceiling and stained glass and an army of bowler-hat-wearing waiters. There was also a laminated card on each table with The Rules of Formal Hall. I eagerly read it, as I was very aware of minding my manners and not exposing myself as clueless about anything formal. The rules included no picture taking in the presence of the fellows, college gowns required (though not required for guests, thank goodness, since my college doesn't have a gown. They're amazing and ridiculous at the same time. Clare proudly calls hers her Bat Cape.), no standing up once you've sat down (i.e. NO bathroom trips during dinner- ?!), "no behaviours that encourage excessive drinking" (this is to outlaw a traditional game called "pennies", where your friends/enemies drop a penny in your wine glass and you have to chug the wine. Think binge drinking, with style.), and you have to respond to the closing prayer with "[insert something Latin that everyone else knew]". Yikes.
So the dinner really did open with a Latin prayer, as Clare had warned me, and the fellows really did sit at the high table and ignore us the whole dinner. One student drank too much and- gulp- stood up during dinner. He was escorted from the hall. I dutifully used the correct silverware and resisted the temptation to steal my paper napkins with "Selwyn College" printed on it. It was really fun, and eye-opening to see the real Cambridge as it's been for 800 years. It was also shocking to see 18-year-olds complain about their pepper steak and moan about the waiters and let their gowns hang open to show off their tiny and sort of indecent fancy dresses underneath. They all drank a lot and talked loudly. I very much played the part of a participant observer. Nothing like anthropology research over coffee and mints.
It was a great experience, and satisfied my desire for beauty and tradition. It also made me very glad to belong to a graduate college where formals are basically the same as everyday dinners with the lights lowered. Fellows and students sit wherever we want, everyone is polite and happy to be there, and we are wearing dressy clothes from every culture you can imagine, without any Bat Capes to make us all look the same. This would have been very inappropriate to the Cambridge Class of 1209, but I love it.


(Look at the height of that bonfire! OMG. It was so hot that it blurred all my photos... :) )

After this experience of the cultured English, I got to see a very different side the next night: Bonfire Night, aka Guy Fawkes Day. Guy Fawkes tried to blow up Parliament in London in the 16th century with kegs of gunpowder and got caught. So now every town in England builds an enormous bonfire and burns scarecrow-like effigies of Guy Fawkes. Whoa. Before the bonfire, according to my British friend, they do a hedgehog check to scare the poor beasts out of the giant pile of sticks. This fire is meant to burn a person, not animals, apparently. After the Guy (usually clothes sewn with straw inside) goes up in flames, traditionally kids toast marshmallows on the bonfire.
I'd seen Guy Fawkes Day before in London, but somehow it didn't strike me as so incongruous with English culture. But for a country obsessed with Health and Safety guidelines and preventative healthcare and taking care of the environment, a huge bonfire in every town surrounded by cheering crowds sounds unthinkable. Yet Cambridge's event had thousands of people in the crowd and a bonfire seriously about 20 feet high (which my friend poo-pooed as being far too small for a proper Guy Fawkes bonfire). We also had fireworks, which were shockingly low to the ground and I'm sure a few people lost eyebrows to flying sparks. How could people who shun each other for stirring their soup the wrong direction (you MUST go clockwise... I think?) burn a fake person on an enormous bonfire? with glee?

Maybe these two traditions (formality and fire) just go to show us how much the English respect and value tradition. Why else would they preserve crazy habits that don't make sense, like table manners and bonfire building? Even if they are crazy traditions, though, it sure is fun to be part of them as an outsider. Even though I'm making fun of them, it's a thrill to learn about things that are utterly foreign in a place where I feel more and more at home. I'm glad there will always be things that are mysterious! Just think of all the crazy shit Americans do that I haven't even realized is crazy... yet. :)