A day for love, some roses and chocolates
Published: 03:02 PM,Feb 12,2022 | EDITED : 07:02 PM,Feb 12,2022
It’s rather convoluted, but the origins of Valentine’s Day (February 14) as we know it may have been rather divorced, if that is appropriate, from the hearts, and roses celebration it is today.
Historians agree that its origins lie in the ancient Roman fertility festival of ‘Lupercalia,’ held to celebrate the Ides of February, on February 15 of each year, dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, at a time when that civilization had gods of, and celebrations for, everything under the sun!
The ‘Luperci’ High Priests of the time would make an animal sacrifice in the very cave where the city’s founders, Romulus, and Remus, were believed to have been raised by a she-wolf, Lupa, and they would afterwards display the skin of the dead animal throughout the city. Of course, while it was newly skinned it was soft and delicate to the touch while it was still fresh.
Over time, rumors began to surface that the women who touched the animal skin becoming pregnant soon after. Of course, as you can understand, enthusiasm took over, and the rumor became a self-fulfilling, eventually self-perpetuating prophecy, as their men took their chances to be a right. Talk about never letting a chance go by.
Later, another ritual emerged as those women unable to touch the fresh skin, were seduced maybe (?) into a Plan B, where they would place their names in giant containers in their town square, and youthful young men would draw the name of their partner for a year. If the women conceived, the couple were deemed fated to marry, and many did... though history papers over what happened to the others. “Oh well, try again next year,” I guess?
Centuries later, the Emperor Claudius II of Rome issued a decree that “All single men being the best soldiers,” decreed that marriage was to be outlawed. Well, I guess that is one way to become unpopular. Anyway, many were married in secret by a priest by the name of Valentine (of course), and he was sentenced to death. Maybe he perished, or maybe not, as stories suggest that another, different priest named Valentine was beheaded by mistake after a clerical error. Well, such things do happen in bureaucracies!
Fast forward to the Middle Ages, when a fickle and dissolute, often drunken and debauched European royalty, with Papal support, celebrated February 14 as the beginning of birds mating in Europe. Really? Valentine’s Day though was coined in tribute to an otherwise obscure young romantic poet who dared to look romantically, that day at the feast, upon a gorgeous Princess. She was swept off her feet by his passionate prose and was caught in his arms. The poet, Valentin, was rumored (once again) to have been put to death at the hands of her drunken royal, pain in the butt, cuckolded Prince. Wouldn’t you think that by then, Valentine would have been a name to steer clear of?
Others imply that the drunken Prince came to his senses before the execution and relented on his reaction, even forgetting about this prisoner after a while. Meantime, the young man, romantically, and foolishly perhaps, had a love letter smuggled to the object of his affection, the beautiful Princess, which touched her deeply, and she fell asleep clutching the note to her breast.
Unfortunately, the Prince came upon his wife as she treasured the romantic missive and became even more furious when he saw it was signed, “Your loving Valentine,” and had the Princess and her poet thrown to their deaths from the castle walls.
Thus, Valentine’s Day is perpetuated each year, around the globe, as a day upon which to show your love and affection. Whether young or old, chaste, or passionate, millions of secret, and not-so-secret adorations will be written and read, all in the name of romance tomorrow. Women are, for this day at least, the moon, sun, stars, and perfect... at least on this day. Happy Valentine’s.
Historians agree that its origins lie in the ancient Roman fertility festival of ‘Lupercalia,’ held to celebrate the Ides of February, on February 15 of each year, dedicated to Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, at a time when that civilization had gods of, and celebrations for, everything under the sun!
The ‘Luperci’ High Priests of the time would make an animal sacrifice in the very cave where the city’s founders, Romulus, and Remus, were believed to have been raised by a she-wolf, Lupa, and they would afterwards display the skin of the dead animal throughout the city. Of course, while it was newly skinned it was soft and delicate to the touch while it was still fresh.
Over time, rumors began to surface that the women who touched the animal skin becoming pregnant soon after. Of course, as you can understand, enthusiasm took over, and the rumor became a self-fulfilling, eventually self-perpetuating prophecy, as their men took their chances to be a right. Talk about never letting a chance go by.
Later, another ritual emerged as those women unable to touch the fresh skin, were seduced maybe (?) into a Plan B, where they would place their names in giant containers in their town square, and youthful young men would draw the name of their partner for a year. If the women conceived, the couple were deemed fated to marry, and many did... though history papers over what happened to the others. “Oh well, try again next year,” I guess?
Centuries later, the Emperor Claudius II of Rome issued a decree that “All single men being the best soldiers,” decreed that marriage was to be outlawed. Well, I guess that is one way to become unpopular. Anyway, many were married in secret by a priest by the name of Valentine (of course), and he was sentenced to death. Maybe he perished, or maybe not, as stories suggest that another, different priest named Valentine was beheaded by mistake after a clerical error. Well, such things do happen in bureaucracies!
Fast forward to the Middle Ages, when a fickle and dissolute, often drunken and debauched European royalty, with Papal support, celebrated February 14 as the beginning of birds mating in Europe. Really? Valentine’s Day though was coined in tribute to an otherwise obscure young romantic poet who dared to look romantically, that day at the feast, upon a gorgeous Princess. She was swept off her feet by his passionate prose and was caught in his arms. The poet, Valentin, was rumored (once again) to have been put to death at the hands of her drunken royal, pain in the butt, cuckolded Prince. Wouldn’t you think that by then, Valentine would have been a name to steer clear of?
Others imply that the drunken Prince came to his senses before the execution and relented on his reaction, even forgetting about this prisoner after a while. Meantime, the young man, romantically, and foolishly perhaps, had a love letter smuggled to the object of his affection, the beautiful Princess, which touched her deeply, and she fell asleep clutching the note to her breast.
Unfortunately, the Prince came upon his wife as she treasured the romantic missive and became even more furious when he saw it was signed, “Your loving Valentine,” and had the Princess and her poet thrown to their deaths from the castle walls.
Thus, Valentine’s Day is perpetuated each year, around the globe, as a day upon which to show your love and affection. Whether young or old, chaste, or passionate, millions of secret, and not-so-secret adorations will be written and read, all in the name of romance tomorrow. Women are, for this day at least, the moon, sun, stars, and perfect... at least on this day. Happy Valentine’s.