Over the last two decades I’ve noticed how Halloween has become commercialised almost to the same level as Christmas, with fancy dress for adults and endless pumpkin paraphernalia. Back in 2006 when I was an undergrad, I remember trawling the children’s fancy dress costumes in Woolworths (remember that shop?!), looking for a design in a size big enough to just about fit me. But where has the ‘tradition’ of Halloween and its associated iconography come from? This week I began my quest to answer this question by delving into the origin and symbolism of ‘Jack-o'-lanterns’ (carved pumpkins) which have their roots in an Irish folktale about ‘Stingy Jack’, or ‘Stingy Jack O'Lantern’, to give him his full title. The tale goes that this unfortunate chap made some careless deals with the Devil which led him to being barred from both heaven and hell when he died so he was doomed to roam the with only an ember inside a hollowed turnip. But hang on a minute, a turnip?! You may believe that pumpkins are traditionally carved in the U.K due to their abundance at this time of year, yet they’re not a European vegetable. Prior to the Irish potato famine of 1845, turnips were the vegetable of choice. Pumpkins became popular after Irish people were forced to migrate to the USA as a result of the Irish potato famine, and there they found that pumpkins were not only more abundant but much easier to carve! The practice of carving faces into pumpkins was thought to be used to ward off evil spirits, protect from the dead or sometimes, in places such as Brittany, to welcome back the souls of deceased loved ones. The increasingly trendy fancy dress theme inspired by the Mexican celebration ‘el dia de los muertos’ (Day of the Dead) also invokes a more joyful and playful tradition where families welcome back the souls of their deceased relatives for a brief reunion.
The name ‘Halloween’ is derived from the Christian celebration ‘All Hallows Eve’, now more commonly known as All Saints Day which became popularialised by Christians around the year 800. Prior to this, Celtic communities celebrated Samhain (pronounced SOW-ain, SAH-wen or SOW-en). This important festival in the Wheel of the Year, would have traditionally been a New Year celebration, marking the end of the Harvest season and acknowledging that we’re now entering the dark part of the year (in the Northern Hemisphere). Now-a-days few of us retain the connection to the sowing, growing and harvest seasons that our ancestors would have once had, so here are some suggestions for how to mark the occasion and take a step along the path to rewilding yourself and reconnect to the land.
Samhain (also known as ‘November Eve’) is a time to remember our ancestors, reflect on the year’s harvest (physical and metaphorical) and consider what we wish to let go of as we move through Autumn and into Winter. To mark this sabbat (celebration), take time to observe the changes in nature, slow down, spend time in quiet solitude and reminisce about happy times with loved ones who’ve passed on.
Samhain is also an excellent time to gather the final fruits of the hedgerows and preserve them for the Winter months. Below I share my recipe for rosehip syrup - a powerful tool to have in your cupboard to protect against the inevitable Winter colds.
It’s protective properties were first made common knowledge during WWII when UK government scientists realised that, weight for weight, rosehips contain over 20 times more vitamin C than oranges! As a result the Ministry of Food recommended rosehip syrup for children’s health and created a national week for rosehip foraging with Scouts, Guides and other groups would head out to harvest this powerful gifts from nature (source: The Woodland Trust)
How do you mark this transition in the Wheel of the Year from the abundance of the harvest season to this darker, more introspective time of year, 6 weeks before the Christmas chaos! I’d love to hear your stories in the comments on my Substack page.
Thanks so much for reading. My next free-to-read post will be published on Yule, also known as the Winter Solstice, on 21 December. If you can’t wait ‘til then, I’d love it if you become a subscriber for just £3.50 per month, which gives you access to all my posts which are published on the new and full moons (roughly twice a month).