All Hail the Winter King

With every holiday on the Western calendar comes the debate over its origins. Pagan or Christian. Historians chime in, apologists spew their nonsense, and no opinions are changed. Personally, I’m tired of such arguments. I assume Christianity has tainted most things and choose to ignore it where possible. What I find more interesting is that Halloween preserves something much older than that silly death cult: the human tendency to treat seasonal transitions as spiritually significant. The harvest is over. The days shorten. Winter approaches. The landscape changes, and the distinction between life and death becomes particularly conspicuous. Something deep within us is called to fire and feasting, to raise our cups to the dying light. Soon come the darkness and the ice. Fields and forests turn barren and silent. I wish I were back in Edinburgh. The city felt ancient and strangely comforting. From my flat, I could look out at Calton Hill and see the Samhuinn Fire Festival. The Cailleach,…