R. L. Stine, the Goosebumps man, had a piece in the Times the other day about reclaiming Halloween for kids. I respect his point of view – he should know all about Halloween, it's his thing – but I don't think kids are suffering quite as much as he supposes. Judging from the children's trick-or-treat party we had in my office last Thursday, the essential item is still in place: Free Candy.
I saw the following costumes among the kids:
- Two Wonder Women;
- One Darkwing Duck (what bargain bin did that costume come out of?);
- Lots of Disney princesses;
- Two Jedi knights;
- One very pretty Minnie Mouse, with shoes to die for;
- Two Harry Potters, in quidditch outfits no less;
- One Thomas the Tank Engine (I thought he was a cell phone from the back, but then he turned around and I saw the choo-choo face in front).
Most of the kids looked vaguely uncomfortable in their costumes. That, too, has not changed. I remember liking the idea of dressing up as a play activity, but the actual costumes (I had a dandy Fred Flintstone outfit, back when I was tiny and adorable) were usually hot and stuffy, and I always felt a little ridiculous being marched around in public like a goon. The trick-or-treat routine feels like one of those arbitrary rituals that has to be endured, like visiting Grandma or going to Sunday school. So long as there's a Snickers bar at the end of the transaction, however, everything is okay.
Stine's other point was that adults have taken over the kids' role at Halloween – parties, decorations, dressing up. Maybe. Nothing new, if so. Adults have always relished the opportunity to make big fools of themselves: Bacchanalia, Saturnalia, Carnaval, Mardi Gras, Purim, the Feast of Fools. (If you want something closer to our own day, the stories of John Cheever are full of mid-Twentieth Century examples of adults being goofy in public.) Besides, there's something cathartic about dressing up when you're an adult. Sometimes it's a way of expressing secret desires (sexy nurses, gladiators, animal outfits, executioners); other times it's just a way of blowing a big fat raspberry at the constraints of adulthood.
Adult costumes I saw this year:
- Several witches, some sexy, some Gothic/elaborate;
- One 1920s dandy with bow tie, raccoon coat, straw hat, and ukulele;
- One guy with a derby who was either Charlie Chaplin, Stan Laurel, or Alex from “A Clockwork Orange”;
- One wildly colorful jester;
- One guy in a red-and-white striped outfit and matching cap, who I think was Waldo from “Where's Waldo?”;
- A girl coming out of Stop & Shop who may have been Bella Swan from “Twilight,” or maybe she just looks that way anyway;
- One Roman emperor with a gilded laurel wreath, wearing white athletic socks and white tennis shoes.
As for myself, I wore a necklace of skulls to the office party. It's nice and simple, and besides, it's not every day I can wear religious paraphernalia to work.
As a special treat, I dug up the above photo from my archives to show you. It was taken on Halloween 1978, my first year in Providence. I was Father Christmas; my friend Joanne, a fellow grad student, was Boethius's Lady Philosophy. Joanne lives in Connecticut now, has a lovely husband and two lovely daughters, and is still loaded with pep. I am still in Providence, partnered, of course, and am still the lovely giving person I've always been.
Have a happy and holy Day of All Saints, y'all. It's a holy day of obligation for all you Catholics, but I checked, and if you went to Mass yesterday, you don't have to go today. In any case, if you do, pray for the rest of us, who just want a little candy and a few laughs once in a while.
