I didn’t kiss anyone on New Year’s Eve, in spite of that old ritual.
I probably could have kissed my cat, Roscoe. But he’s not affectionate that way. He prefers a scratch behind the ears.
Years ago, I did typically engage in New Year’s Eve kissing. It was sort of a tradition, for Darlene and me. Before the divorce.
We also kissed, occasionally, at other times of the year. I distinctly recall that we kissed at our wedding — at least partly because the preacher said, “You may now kiss the bride.” With everyone watching, I sort of felt obligated. But also, I wanted to kiss her.
There’s that awkward sense of obligation, mixed with eagerness, that goes along with culturally-enforced kissing. Under the mistletoe, for example, or when your wife gets you some really nice socks for Christmas.
I sent our Daily Post editor the photo shown above, which looks like it might date from the 1950s, back when people didn’t question cultural standards quite as much as we do nowadays. Back then, you pretty much did as you were told. Which included kissing, as the clock struck midnight on December 31.
When I looked up the stats — partly to make myself feel better, about having no one other than a non-romantic cat to kiss on New Year’s — I found that there were about 35 million single adults in the U.S. in 1950.
This New Year’s, the estimate is more like 130 million single adults. About 4 out of 10 American adults now have no one they are obligated to kiss on New Year’s. Or even, that they might want to kiss.
How did this old tradition get started, anyway? And then, what happened to America?
The possible origins of requisite New Year’s puckering can be traced back to the Roman festival called Saturnalia, a big drunken party held around the winter solstice. I personally find it helps to be at least slightly inebriated, when required kissing is stipulated.
Another possible source of the kissing tradition? From Reader’s Digest:
According to Christina Fitzgerald, PhD, a professor of English literature at the University of Toledo, one of the earliest literary mentions of a New Year’s kiss (if not the first) goes back to the Middle Ages: specifically, ‘Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’. One passage takes place on New Year’s Day and refers to a holiday game in which the ladies who lose must give something to the men (and suggests that they do so happily). Meanwhile, the male winners are “not angry” about this rule — an “ironic understatement,” Fitzgerald tells Reader’s Digest. “Every glossed edition and commentary I’ve seen on this assumes the ‘something’ is a kiss,” she adds.
Obviously, the good professor is making a number of assumptions based on a book from 1360 AD. Although it’s easy to say that men are typically not angry when ladies kiss them, the actual text from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight doesn’t exactly support the claim that the gifts were ‘kisses’. If we read the translated text, it was apparently “nobles” who arrived with the New Year’s gifts.
With loud clamor and cries both clerics and laymen
Greeted each other with “Noel” repeating it often;
Then nobles ran up soon with New Year’s gifts.
“The gifts, the gifts!” they shouted, and gave them out,
Competing for those presents in playful guessing games;
Ladies laughed loudly, though they lost the game,
And the winner was not sad, as you may well have guessed.
It’s not exactly clear why the ladies are laughing, in this version. But obviously, the word “kiss” is missing from this section of the narrative.
Things are even less clear if we scan the original Old English version.
Loude crye watz þer kest of clerkez and oþer,
Nowel nayted onewe, neuened ful ofte;
And syþen riche forth runnen to reche hondeselle,
Ȝeȝed ȝeres-ȝiftes on hiȝ, ȝelde hem bi hond,
Debated busyly aboute þo giftes;
Ladies laȝed ful loude, þoȝ þay lost haden,
And he þat wan watz not wrothe, þat may ȝe wel trawe.
The word “kiss” does indeed appear later in the story, however. About two dozen times, in fact.
But not in relationship to any particular holiday.
Then said Gawain, “Very well, as you wish.
I will kiss at your command, as suits a knight,
and more, to not displease you, so plead it no longer.”
She came near there and caught him in her arms,
and down delicately bending, dearly she kissed him.
They courteously commended each other to Christ.
In 1360 AD, you didn’t need to wait around until New Year’s to get kissed.
But times change. As we know. Instead of kissing, we adopted pets.
Underrated writer Louis Cannon grew up in the vast American West, although his ex-wife, given the slightest opportunity, will deny that he ever grew up at all.