Twelfth Night, Twelfth Day

The setting sun on January 5 brings Twelfth Night, the beginning of the end of the Yuletide festivities and our journey through the Twelve Days of Christmas. While nowadays it is rare to find a family that celebrates Twelfth Night, in years past, Twelfth Night celebrations in many places might rival those of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. By the Fifth of January, though, most of us these days are back to the workaday world, and back to some semblance of ordinary time. Even I, a longtime advocate for a return to Twelfth Night celebrations, have some trouble celebrating Twelfth Night unless it happens to fall on a weekend. The fact is that the contemporary world is tough on holidays like Twelfth Night, and tough on the Twelve Days of Christmas, in general. We rarely are afforded the time and space to celebrate them fully, and so many of them––Twelfth Night, especially––fall by the wayside.

Twelfth Night ushers in Twelfth Day: the Feast of the Epiphany, on the Sixth of January. Tradition tells us that this is the day the Magi arrived in Bethlehem to visit Mary and Joseph and bring their gifts to their newborn child. Seeing the child was their great epiphany, and in turn, ours. Epiphany is a celebration even older than Christmas itself. The Church early on recognized that Epiphany holds the great symbolism that this news of the savior’s birth was for all people. The Magi are not from Judea. They are from distant lands. By journeying for twelve days and paying homage to the child, the Magi show that the message is universal.

These three kings, the Magi, they are the ones who bring gifts to children in Spain and Latin America: as they travel on Twelfth Night, los Tres Reyes Magos deliver their gifts. Their story is wrapped up also with the story of a kindly old witch in Italy. She is called la Befana. She, too, travels on Twelfth Night, delivering gifts to children. The Magi stopped by at la Befana’s cottage on their way to Bethlehem, and they very kindly invited her to join them on their journey. But la Befana, well… she had so much housework to do. She was very busy sweeping her floors, after all! So, she told the Magi, “Grazie, but no. I have far too much to do.” And so the three kings and their retinue set off again on their journey, leaving la Befana to her work. But alas, la Befana felt a tug at her heart, and decided she would join them, after all. But it was too late. She never found the Magi, and she never found the child. Even after flying on her broom in the sky. She had squandered her chance. And to this day, each Twelfth Night, la Befana searches for the newborn child, leaving presents for all the sleeping children she looks in upon.

Just as she swept and swept her cottage floor, la Befana uses her broom to sweep Christmas away for another year. And we, in our house, follow yet another ancient tradition on Epiphany: the Chalking of the Doors, most common in Austria, Germany, and Switzerland. On Epiphany night, we will gather up all who are in attendance (which very often is just Seth and me) and we will each take turns writing with chalk on the lintel above the front door the numbers and letters and symbols of a traditional inscription. This year, it will read as follows: 20+C+M+B+26. These are the initials of each of the Three Kings (C for Caspar, M for Melchior, B for Balthasar), punctuated by crosses, blanketed on either side by the year. And here’s the part I tell you each and every year: For me, chalking the door is always accompanied by a silent prayer that no one will be missing when we gather next to write the inscription again. Depending on the weather, the inscription may be there above the door for a month or it may be there all the year through. And though Christmas be gone, still the inscription reminds us of its presence as we pass each day through that portal. The inscription is a magic charm of sorts, protecting the house and those who pass through the doorway, harboring the goodwill and spirit of the Christ Child, and of the Three Kings, and of Old Father Christmas, too.

And so if this is your welcome signal, once Epiphany has passed, to put away Christmas for another year, you are welcome. But if this idea makes you melancholy, well… I bring you tidings of good news: your celebration need not necessarily end here with the close of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Though the major part of the celebration is done, our convivial poet Robert Herrick reminds us that it is fine and good, too, to keep the Christmas greenery in your home for the rest of the month of January. This practice follows the ancient customs of his day, and we, here, each year follow Herrick’s lead. While we may at this point begin to put away many of the more contemporary decorations for the season, it is perfectly fine, by this custom, to keep the greenery, to keep the candles and the stars and the lights on the tree. As long as the greenery is gone by Candlemas Eve, Herrick says, all is well. Candlemas Eve: the First of February, the Eve of St. Brigid’s Day, honoring Brigid, who bridges us from winter to spring. Robert Herrick’s approach is, we feel, a most sensible approach to Christmastide and the wheel of the year (especially if you, like we, are in love with Christmas). This approach connects the Midwinter Solstice we celebrated at Christmas with the halfway point to the Spring Equinox in March, making for, I think, a more natural progression through time and through our Book of Days at this wintry time of year. And I do love a good connexion.

Happy Twelfth Night. Epiphany blessings, and happy Twelfth Day. Peace and love onto you all.

 

WORKSHOPS
Come learn something new at our Lake Worth Beach shop! New offerings: Pure Bookbinding on Saturday January 31; Pasta Making: Cavatelli on Sunday February 8; Pasta Making: Mambricoli on Sunday February 22. Coming soon (not yet on the website): Pysanky Egg Making on Sunday February 1. CLICK HERE to see what’s new at our Workshops page.

THE SHOP WILL BE OPEN
this Saturday, January 10, during our next workshop. The workshop (another pasta making workshop) is sold out, but you are welcome to come shop during the workshop, between the hours of 11 AM to 2 PM. You’ll find markdowns on Christmas stollen and lebkuchen and chocolates from Germany!

Image: “Adoration of the Magi,” a folio from a French Book of Hours. Ink, tempera, and gold on vellum, circa 1415 [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.

Singing Round the Twelfth Night Star, or Your January Book of Days

Happy New Year. We are well past the halfway mark now in the Twelve Days of Christmas. Some years I write about each day here on the blog, but that’s a big endeavor, so other years (this year, for instance) I just write something brief each day and post it with a picture to the Convivio Bookworks Instagram page, which cross-posts to our Facebook page, as well. Brief but meaningful. Yesterday’s post, as an example, included our recipe for a New Year’s Day Wassail, which we are just finishing drinking as I write this late at night on New Year’s Day. If you’d like to follow along, please do so at our Instagram page (@conviviobookworks).

I know some folks have wrapped up the Christmas season by now, especially now that New Year’s Day has passed. But in our family things continue through to Epiphany, or “Little Christmas,” as my mom sometimes calls it. And even beyond: In this house, we continue our Yuletide celebration all the way to Candlemas at the start of February. Perhaps this is what happens when you don’t even decorate your Christmas tree until Christmas Day (which is how things went this year), or perhaps this is what happens when you love Christmas as much as we do. We keep the spirit going for as long as we can.

And why not? Twelfth Night and Epiphany are still to come: Twelfth Night on the evening of the 5th of January, and Epiphany on the 6th… Epiphany being the day, we are taught, when the Magi arrived at the stable to visit the child born twelve days earlier. Your Convivio Book of Days Calendar for January celebrates these old and venerable festivities in earnest with a painting called, in English, Singing Round the Star on Twelfth Night by Cornelis Troost, an artist working in Amsterdam in the early 1700s. Caroling by the light of an illuminated star-shaped lantern is an old tradition especially in Poland, Germany, and Switzerland. And judging by Cornelis Troost’s painting, in the Netherlands, too. There are Star Boys that accompany the Lucia, in her candle-lit crown, on Sankta Lucia’s Night in Sweden, too. The Star Carolers are a lovely thing to see.

The calendar is a printable PDF, so you may enjoy it on your screen, or print it out and pin it to a door or your bulletin board. The calendar is a fine companion to this blog. Enjoy!

LOCALS: COME SEE US! WE HAVE A SALE FOR YOU!
The shop is open this weekend: Saturday & Sunday, January 3 & 4, from 11 AM to 4 PM both days, for a rare event: A sale! In-house only at our Lake Worth Beach shop, we’re offering 20% off everything in the shop during our TWO DAY SALE. (Two exclusions from the “everything”: Millie’s Tea Towels and workshops.) We’re looking at this Two Day Weekend Sale as a festive way to close the Yuletide season at the shop with good company, good music, and, on the house while you shop, our own Löfbergs Coffee from Sweden and Bahlsen cookies from Germany. Do come! We love seeing you.

WORKSHOPS
Come learn something new at our Lake Worth Beach shop! New offerings: Pure Bookbinding on Saturday January 31; Pasta Making: Cavatelli on Sunday February 8; Pasta Making: Mambricoli on Sunday February 22. Coming soon (not yet on the website): Pysanky Egg Making on Sunday February 1. CLICK HERE to see what’s new at our Workshops page.

JOIN ME FOR SOME ONLINE FESTIVITY
I’m hosting the first Real Mail Fridays of the year for the Jaffe Center for Book Arts today, Friday January 2, from 2 to 5 PM Eastern via Zoom. We’re closing the Yuletide season there with good music and good company, and you get to take part whilst you do other things you need to do. The music and the company are simply there to keep you company. We break for a short chat a couple of times during the program, and you may come and go as you please (no need to stay all three hours). It’s quite heartwarming, and visitors join us from all over the world. CLICK HERE to join us, too.

 

Image: “Singing Round the Star on Twelfth Night,” pastel and gouache on paper by Cornelis Troost, circa 1740. [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.

 

We Add Our Light to the Sum of Light

Sunday brought the Midwinter Solstice to our Northern Hemisphere at 10:04 Eastern, in the morning. Shortest day, longest night. We’ve been on the approach to this for six months, a small decrease in light with each passing day, a small dose of change. And now things appear to stand still for two or three days (solstice meaning sun stand still). But change is the only thing that stays the same, and at these darkest nights, we begin our approach now to the next extreme: with the Midwinter Solstice’s passing, light again begins to increase, as darkness decreases, until things shift again in June at Midsummer. The dance of light and dark was here long before we came to be and will be here long after we are gone: a mystery explained in the beauty of geometry, all based on the fact that this old earth is tilted on its axis, causing the seasons, and, in a way, our response to them: what foods we eat, what stories we tell, what songs we sing. The very stuff of this blog.

The Fourth Sunday of Advent happened to coincide with this longest night, a lovely bit of exquisite timing. We’ve been lighting a new candle each Sunday since the 30th of November in a ring of light that began dimly, with the lighting of one purple candle, representing hope. We added a second purple candle the following Sunday, this one representing faith. A rose candle was added next, last Sunday: rose for joy, a distinct break from the solemnity and penitence of purple. And last night, the night of the Solstice, we added the fourth candle in the ring: another purple one, this one representing love. The Advent Wreath, of course, is not exactly celebrating the coming of the Midwinter Solstice; it is helping us prepare for the child born on Christmas Day. There is powerful imagery there, and it is no coincidence that the early Church chose this time of year to celebrate the birth of Christ: think “Jesus the Light of the World” (as the old hymn goes).

And so the darkest night came and with its passing, we enter soon into Christmastide. Here in this house, we got our tree, under the lights at the tree lot in Downtown West Palm Beach, late last week. It is illuminated now, but not yet decorated… that we’ll get to in the coming nights. Seth was up on the rooftop last night, solstice night, putting up lights there and up on the garden fence, too. We are doing our part to add our light to the sum of light, through light, but also through respect for and acknowledgment of the turning of the wheel of the year, the seasons as they pass, the tilt of this old earth, and the respect and kindness we offer the people we encounter along the way. We use our light to dispel the night, to counter all the darkness in the world, a darkness that is in no short supply these days. It is all we can do.