Light My Fire

We suspect as Jim Morrison and the Doors wailed and rode their hit “Light my Fire” to the top of the pop charts in the mid-sixties, they had little appreciation of the ancient Nordic tradition of Walpurgis.

On 30 April Swedes gather in community about massive bonfires to celebrate the memory of a 8^th century German abbess named St. Walpurga. Or so goes the story. In actuality, the Christian roots of this nationwide celebration are equally unmoored from the more distant European pagan rituals Valborgsmässoafton, or Walpurgis Night.  After endless months of winter darkness and weeks of slowly unfolding springtime weather, Walpurgis Night is the surefire calendar-scheduled beginning of spring. Morrison and band would, however, have clearly recognized the reckless abandonment some youthful Swedes apply to the celebration. “Police busy on alcohol-soaked Walpurgis Night” and “Drunken Swedes kicked out of Denmark” were just two headlines that filled our online English edition of the local news here. Thanks to the generous offer of one of Helen’s Dining for Women friends, Lucy Robertshaw, we were able to witness Walpurgis Night first hand in the Swedish countryside.

We took a commuter train to Södertälje where Lucy retrieved us so we could continue the final part of the journey by car to her and Michael’s home. The home is only 35 miles southwest of Stockholm, but gave us another view of Sweden outside our urban environs. The single story, yellow clad home is located in a world of farmer’s fields ploughed and ready for planting and active horse farms. Sharing our visit were Michael’s young children, Ella and Ture.

Our evening of revelry was a family affair. Michael and Lucy had previously prepared a pile of loose branches, tree trimmings and combustible recyclables for the bonfire. We responded with shocking surprise upon seeing the assembled flammables that reached a height of over six feet. Michael, with typical Swedish modesty and a lifetime of Walpurgis Nights, noted that some bonfires reach heights exceeding our pyre by two to three times.  Yikes!

Children and adults watch the flaming bonfire

Michael put a match to the mass of material before us and we settled into our first Walpurgis Night. At other flaming bonfires, men may break out in song singing the traditional ditty "Vintern Rasat Ut." It is also said that Walpurgis Night is one day - and they are few and far between in the Swedish calendar - when you can grab a stranger’s hand and skip and sing without recoil. Oh my...

 

Our evening was rather tame. The adults stood about in pleasant conversation adjusting and stirring the fire as needed. Ella and Ture fed the fire with anything flammable they could pick up and toss into the flames.  We considered neither St. Walpurga nor the evil spirits vanquished as in paean days of this ritual. Spring had arrived and that was cause enough for celebration.