{"id":8355,"date":"2022-01-25T00:16:56","date_gmt":"2022-01-25T05:16:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/?p=8355"},"modified":"2022-01-25T00:49:32","modified_gmt":"2022-01-25T05:49:32","slug":"auld-lang-syne-or-rabbie-burns","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/auld-lang-syne-or-rabbie-burns\/","title":{"rendered":"Auld Lang Syne, our Rabbie Burns"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Well, here we are, at Burns Night: the global celebration of the birth of the Bard of Scotland: Robert Burns. Our friend Rabbie was born on the 25th of January, 1759, at Burns Cottage at Alloway, and this is the traditional night for a Burns Supper, a tradition that began in 1801, five years after the poet’s death. Alas, once again, it is perhaps not in the best interest of public health this year to gather together for the meal. Last year, I gave you a Burns Night supper to experience in your mind, and maybe this\u00a025th of January, an imaginary Burns Night Supper is the best way to go. Since it is imaginary, let’s make it as perfect as possible. First, a piper will welcome the guests as they arrive. Let’s add a drummer, as well, for full effect. Once the company is assembled and seated at table, the host will stand and recite the Selkirk Grace:<\/p>\n

Some hae meat an canna eat,<\/em>
\nAnd some wad eat that want it;<\/em>
\nBut we hae meat, and we can eat,<\/em>
\nAnd sae the Lord be thankit.<\/em><\/p>\n

Robert Burns is not the author of this prayer, but he famously recited it at a dinner given by the Earl of Selkirk. If the language seems both familiar and not, that’s because Burns spoke and wrote in his native Lowland Scots language\u2013\u2013a sister language to modern English, but the two diverged independently from the same source (Early Middle English) in the 12th and 13th centuries. Easier to understand, I think, if you speak it aloud as you read (so please do).<\/p>\n

After grace, upon saying Amen<\/em>, the soup will be served. We suggest cock-a-leekie<\/em>, a hearty soup of leeks and peppered chicken stock with barley, garnished with sliced prunes. Once the soup is done and the bowls are cleared, we hear the piper strike up the bagpipes again from inside the kitchen. All will rise, the piper will enter and proceed, and behind him, in glorious fanfare, is the chef, carrying in, on a platter, the main course: it is haggis<\/em>\u2013\u2013a savory pudding of mutton or lamb and oatmeal, suet, and spices. This elaborate procession is known as The Piping In of the Haggis<\/em>. It is the highlight of the evening, accompanied by the Address to the Haggis. It’s a lengthy speech, delivered by our host, or perhaps by an honored guest:<\/p>\n

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
\nGreat chieftain o’ the puddin-race!
\nAboon them a’ ye tak your place,
\nPainch, tripe, or thairm:
\nWeel are ye wordy o’ a grace
\nAs lang’s my airm.<\/p>\n

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
\nYour hurdies like a distant hill,
\nYour pin wad help to mend a mill
\nIn time o’ need,
\nWhile thro’ your pores the dews distil
\nLike amber bead.<\/p>\n

His knife see rustic Labour dicht, [here, a knife is drawn & sharpened<\/em>]
\nAn’ cut you up wi’ ready slicht, [here, the haggis is cut end to end<\/em>]
\nTrenching your gushing entrails bricht,
\nLike ony ditch;
\nAnd then, O what a glorious sicht,
\nWarm-reekin, rich!<\/p>\n

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive:
\nDeil tak the hindmaist! on they drive,
\nTill a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve,
\nAre bent like drums;
\nThen auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
\n“Bethankit” hums.<\/p>\n

Is there that o’re his French ragout
\nOr olio that wad staw a sow,
\nOr fricassee wad mak her spew
\nWi’ perfect scunner,
\nLooks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view
\nOn sic a dinner?<\/p>\n

Poor devil! see him ower his trash,
\nAs feckless as a wither’d rash,
\nHis spindle shank, a guid whip-lash,
\nHis nieve a nit;
\nThro’ bloody flood or field to dash,
\nO how unfit!<\/p>\n

But mark the Rustic, haggis fed,
\nThe trembling earth resounds his tread.
\nClap in his wallie nieve a blade,
\nHe’ll mak it whistle;
\nAn’ legs an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
\nLike taps o’ thristle.<\/p>\n

Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care,
\nAnd dish them out their bill o’ fare,
\nAuld Scotland wants nae skinkin ware
\nThat jaups in luggies;
\nBut, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,
\nGie her a haggis!<\/p>\n

With the haggis now properly addressed, a whisky toast is drunk, and the company is seated once again for the meal of haggis with neeps and tatties (for us Stateside folks, that’s mashed swedes (rutabaga) and potatoes). There’ll be dessert with coffee\u2013\u2013the signal for speeches and poetry to begin\u2013\u2013followed by a cheese course. And there will be whisky flowing all the evening long (and since it’s an imaginary supper, no one will get drunk) with a toast to the lassies and a toast to the laddies and a toast to the immortal memory of Rabbie Burns. There will be more poems. And finally, with the work of the supper seemingly over, the host will ask the company to rise and join hands and sing “Auld Lang Syne,” the song for which Robert Burns is most famous. We began our month singing it at New Year’s Eve, and we end our month singing it for Burns Night. (Here’s the version I like best \u2013\u2013 click here<\/strong><\/a> to hear the Revels perform it; it’s a tune you’ve probably not sung the song to, but one that feels, if you ask me, more fitting to the language.)<\/p>\n

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
\nand never brought to mind?
\nShould auld acquaintance be forgot,
\nand auld lang syne?<\/p>\n

\n
CHORUS:<\/dd>\n
For auld lang syne, my jo,
\nfor auld lang syne,
\nwe\u2019ll tak a cup o\u2019 kindness yet,
\nfor auld lang syne.<\/dd>\n<\/dl>\n

And there\u2019s a hand, my trusty fiere!
\nand gie\u2019s a hand o\u2019 thine!
\nAnd we\u2019ll tak a right gude-willy waught,
\nfor auld lang syne.<\/p>\n

The words \u201cauld lang syne\u201d translate essentially to old long since<\/em>, or old times<\/em>. The\u00a0song is one about remembering. And it is right, it is good, to spend some time remembering. Tonight, we remember Robert Burns and we remember those who love him. He was a sentimental poet, Robert Burns, and we need this on occasion: a cup o’ kindness, and the laughter and the tears that come with remembering. Perhaps we cannae have our Burns Supper tonight with friends… but a wee dram of whisky and an old song will do us well in remembering and warming a cold winter\u2019s night. And so we raise our glass to you, gentle reader, and to the immortal memory of Rabbie Burns.<\/p>\n

Much of this chapter is a reprint from the 2021 chapter of the <\/em>Convivio Book of Days for Burns Night, called “A Proper Burns Night Supper.” Image: An engraving of Robert Burns from <\/em>A Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen, 1870. Rabbie Burns certainly is among the most eminent of Scotsmen <\/em>(and women<\/em>).<\/em><\/p>\n

SHOP OUR VALENTINE SALE!<\/strong>
\nSpend $75 across our catalog and take $10 off, plus get free domestic shipping, when you enter discount code LOVEHANDMADE<\/strong><\/a> at checkout. That’s a total savings of $19.50. Click here<\/strong><\/a> to start shopping. We’ve got some wonderful new handmade artisan goods from Mexico and Sweden and some brand new tea towels, both hand embroidered and screen printed, to surprise your sweetheart and delight your darlin’. I think you’ll love what we’ve got in store at conviviobookworks.com<\/a><\/strong>… and your purchases translate into real support for real families, small companies, and artisans we know by name.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Well, here we are, at Burns Night: the global celebration of the birth of the Bard of Scotland: Robert Burns. Our friend Rabbie was born on the 25th of January, 1759, at Burns Cottage at Alloway, and this is the traditional night for a Burns Supper, a tradition that began in 1801, five years after […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[44,255],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8355"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8355"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8355\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8362,"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8355\/revisions\/8362"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8355"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8355"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.conviviobookworks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8355"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}