The word “hallow” derives from the Old English halig, meaning holy. All Hallows Eve, the evening before the holiness of All Saints Day (November 1st) is the night when the ghosts and ghouls come out—hence the garish plastic ghoulishness of many a suburban Halloween garden display. People used to be content to celebrate Halloween with a pumpkin jack-o-lantern in the window, but now many front yards host a whole stage set of Halloween characters, and keep them up a full month.
The surge in popularity of a month-long domestic Halloween display during the COVID-pandemic was understandable; people in many parts of the world were locked down and entertainment had to take place outdoors and at a distance. No one wants to open their front door to unknown trick-or-treaters during a pandemic; that turned out to be a boon to the marketers of massive howling electrically-activated Halloween light shows.
It used to be that Halloween was a time to display what came out of the garden, not to put pre-fabricated objects into it. It was the time to burn fallen branches on a bonfire and share the marrow harvest, a time for apple-bobbing and making witch faces out of the ones that had wrinkled past their best-before date. It was the night for pumpkin-carving artistry, candles flickering on windowsills, and porch lights left on for costumed candy-harvesting kids. Now the costumes are worn by the plastic ghouls and Halloween is families walking the neighborhoods viewing them.
The demotion of the apples and marrows—which is a demotion of the earth-based symbolism around the harvest season—seems a pity. Halloween in agricultural societies was one of the highest of annual holidays; it was a celebration of successful harvest, restocked food laid in for winter, and a season of relative leisure, much like the semi-hibernation of the plant and animal world.
We can still celebrate All Hallows Eve by including the bats and owls that used to take a leading role. If we want bats, we can leave hollow trunks standing, with cavities for nests. If we want owls, we could plant pine, beech, cedar, and cottonwoods. They like to roost in large trees and hate glare, so the suburban garden Halloween light display is ironically anti-owl, despite their presence on Halloween greeting cards.
Some folks miss the old days when nongenetically engineered pumpkins emitted that specially pungent pumpkin-scent at the first insertion of the carving knife. We can’t recapture that from the pumpkins piled in the grocery store parking lots, nor will we scoop out seeds that can be planted for a crop next year. We can, though, in most areas, get organically grown pumpkins or seeds from open-pollinated crops planted at organic nurseries or from online sources. The scent of pumpkin seeds and pulp is most enjoyable when mingled with autumnal bonfire smokiness and the heady aroma of leaves decaying in rich soil, evoking pagan earth-based race-memories of seasonality under the harvest moon. These are memories no mechanized display can recapture.
Halloween was a originally a Celtic. They didn’t have pumpkins yet so they carved turnips. Personally, I think carved turnips look a whole lot creepier.
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/when-people-carved-turnips-instead-of-pumpkins-for-halloween-180978922/?fbclid=IwAR1El6MB1sqnS-PAzoXN1Br_aY4nGhR8rJvNfHBhEjVIvAa0yfm5ud6z9Lc
I’m totally with you re: fake vs real pumpkins and loss of symbolism to MKT. plus, have you noticed price on fake ones? Mon Dioux!
Yep, it was turnips and a few low key games. (no trick or treat – we had Mischief Night on the 4th November and that was fun, but no sweets..)
Sorry to say, we blame America!
We put up Halloween decor, but no real pumpkins, which the squirrels and chipmunks devour. Our daughter solves that situation by growing LOTS of pumpkins and placing them all over the front of her house. She loses some to the critters, but there are just too many for them. If you can’t beat ’em, confuse them!
Another holiday ruined by cheap plastic merchandize and capitalism.
I am glad that in my town, this year and last, Halloween was not (and will not be) changed b/c of the Pandemic. And when you think about it, there was no need for it to change. It has always been the case that if you choose not to celebrate, you leave your front porch light off, maybe pulling the shades as well. I think many more people prefer to just leave out a big bowl of candy. There is something about the holiday that brings out the sin of gluttony in my 2 daughters. They are too old to be trick or treating, but love the holiday so much, that they dress in black and go out after the wee ones are home and get candy from bowls. Last year, they brought home 100 pounds of candy! No, that is not a typo. (They weighed it on the scale.) At least they did share it, giving it to my husband to share with coworkers, etc. In certain wooded parts of our town, bears will come and take your pumpkin!
The owls in my neighborhood have left due to fewer trees, but mainly because of the massive unnecessary security lights people leave on all night. The owls can’t find their food in the light.
That is so sad Jane … . Does this make anyone more secure, I wonder?
I now think it is not truly autumn until the orange plastic garland comes out. Oh, God, I almost cried recently on the checkout line at the local craft store. The person in front of me had a shopping cart full of plastic “autumn” foliage which ended up costing her almost $100. This is in the country, about a hundred miles north of New York City. Most people consider this prime autumn foliage territory. I left the store thinking you could collect more attractive material among the weeds in the store parking lot, but then who am I?
You are a thinking man, that’s who you are! Maybe a mild suggestion to someone next time? Or maybe not, the person might think you’re “weird”. I agree with you. I have an arch from my daughter’s wedding that is now “decorated” with cornstalks, leaves, sumac berries, bones (yes, cow bones) a fabric “ghost” and other plant materials. I didn’t have to buy a thing. And I can compost all of it except the fabric which I will use next year.