January 4, my friends -- the eleventh day of Christmastide!
On the eleventh day of Christmas, My true love sent to me . . . eleven pipers piping . . .
What's the eleventh day, January 4? Nothing special, according to the calendar. There’s the Yuletide superstars, Christmas Eve, Christmas, Boxing Day, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s, Twelfth Night and the Feast of the Epiphany (otherwise known as The Day We Take Down the Christmas Tree) … so an in-between day like January 4th tends to fall between the cracks. We’re past the excitement of Christmas and New Year’s, we may still be dealing with a little festive clutter, remaining guests, leftovers, or we may still be traveling or catching up with friends. And we may not yet have summoned the energy to go fully back to work (even if we’re there).
It's kind of a lull day, this quiet January 4th, a time to rest, sit down with the gifts and enjoy them, to begin
reading some of the books we got as gifts (or acquired for ourselves – I’m
known to take a shopping tax in the bookstores – one for them, one for me; two
for them, one for me…).
Perhaps we’ve sorted out our New Year’s resolutions if we made any – perhaps we’ve had enough time to test a few and give them up as unrealistic. This year, I didn’t make any strenuous resolutions – just the intention to treat myself and my loved ones as kindly as I can. I figure that covers just about everything.
When did the New Year’s resolution come about? It’s one of those muddy history mysteries that reaches back a long way to ancient cultures and erstwhile promises
to behave better and appease the gods (as in, Please don’t strike me down, I’ll return the cow
I borrowed from the priest!) with demonstrations of noble intentions and libations. Just about every culture, no matter when their new
year occurs (January, February and March seems to cover it in the calendars of
most ancient and medieval cultures), marks the chance that a new year offers to begin fresh. It’s a perfect time for a new start, time to wipe out the old slate, forget and forgive, and create anew. It’s the perfect time for a Do-Over
if you need one. That next New Year’s Eve can
seem pretty far off.
But we weren’t always making New Year’s resolutions. Early on, people were more likely to give gifts to mark the new year. In ancient Rome, the custom was for the lesser strata of society to give gifts and tokens to the upper strata so that merchants and servants could curry a little favor where needed. By the Middle Ages, gift-giving on New Year’s was more the custom than giving gifts at Christmas.
In the lavish French courts of the 14th century,
for instance, New Year’s Day and the few days following was a time when
elaborate, expensive gifts were given by king, lord, knight and master of a
household to servants, lords and ladies of the court, merchants, neighbors, the
Church and so on. If you were a loyal and lucky servant, you might be given a
gorgeous ring,
necklace, jeweled belt or pick up some glittering plate for your
cupboard or a sumptuous fur-lined brocaded robe. A day or two after the king or
the lord gave gifts to servants, the queen or the lady of the manor would
bestow New Year’s gifts on her favorites as well.
And of course in addition to a nice new sparkly, you’d also turn your thoughts heavenward and make your peace with heaven for the new year, with promises to be better, more devout, more charitable and so on. Knights sometimes renewed their chivalric vows in court during spectacular feasts. All in all, New Year’s resolutions began early on with religious promises and prayers, and later evolved to promises to ourselves.
The gift giving at New Year’s continued after the medieval
era, with lavish gifts still being handed out in the Tudor and Renaissance
courts. The Reformation and centuries of religious reform put a damper on the
extravagant gifts and demanded the focus be on improving one’s miserable soul,
but the custom of presents managed to survive. By the 19th century, British families often followed a tradition of a little gift exchange
on New Year’s, though instead of heavy ruby rings and furry robes, it was more
likely to be a few new coins or an embroidered handkerchief left anonymously and
discreetly at one’s place setting at breakfast or supper.
This year, if you’re like me, your New Year’s resolutions are on the modest, attainable side, and I won’t ask what they are (unless you want to share!). Instead – I’ll ask this question:
If you could make a New Year’s resolution for your favorite literary character, what would that be?
Scrooge – that one’s easy. “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me.” I think we can safely say he probably kept his resolutions, for fear of the nightmares returning with a vengeance.
But what about some of these others? What resolution should Elizabeth Bennett make, do you think, or Elinor Dashwood? How about Jane Eyre, Mrs. Danvers, Huckleberry Finn, Holden Caulfield, or Sherlock Holmes? Romeo, Juliet, Hamlet, Lady Macbeth or Macbeth – if they had made respectable resolutions and stuck to them for a little while at least, would that have made any difference in their fates? If a resolution can clear a flaw in ourselves – I suppose it could rebalance (and render null, alas) the most interesting of literary demons and tortured souls.“New Year's Day now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.”
--– Mark Twain
Happy New Year to all -- may 2013 bring you love, luck and all good things!
Susan










Wonderful post, Susan. Thank you! I have a resolution for my favourite literary character, Anne Elliot in Persuasion: To follow her heart and whilst still listening to the opinions of others, not to be swayed by them too much. Mind you, if she had made that resolution when she was young she might have eloped with Captain Wentworth and that would have been a whole different story.
Anne's sister Mary should probably resolve to be less of a snob; interesting people come from all walks of life.
And then there's Mr Rochester... He could resolve to be less grumpy. I know it's hard coping with difficult relations but even so...
Posted by: Nicola Cornick | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 09:39 AM
Oh I so agree about Anne Elliot, good point, Nicola. And LOL about Mr. Rochester -- even with the difficult relatives, he could put a smile on his face more often!
As for Jane, she could resolve to stand up for herself a little more instead of always putting up with Rochester's moods.
Susan
Posted by: Susan | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 10:09 AM
Great post, Susan! I think Heathcliff should make a New Year's Resolution to get over Cathy for pity's sake and find a woman with some backbone and a bit more wit than hair.
And poor Rochester! Perhaps he needs to resolve to find better help to look after whatever crazy wives he happens to have in the attic and limit said wife's access to fire!
Posted by: LouisaCornell | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 10:41 AM
Lara should vow to get as far away from Moscow and Yuri Zhivago as she can. How many encounters and goodbyes to the same man can one woman withstand?
And I think Tess Durbeyfield's New Year's Resolution should be to learn a trade so she can avoid falling into/onto unsavory men's laps!
Posted by: Polly McCrillis | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 12:17 PM
Absolutely, Louisa - Heathcliff should get a clue, and Rochester could probably benefit from resolving to find himself a good, discreet therapist and a responsible attorney while he's at it.
LOL, Polly - Lara's new year's intention to move on could be the best thing that ever happened to her. And Tess learning a trade - that's perfect. And Angel should make up his mind to behave himself!
I am loving these!
Susan
Posted by: Susan | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 12:44 PM
Fabulous post, Susan -- and what a dilemma. So many characters to steer in the right direction but then, so many wonderful books that wouldn't be. I love Nicola's Anne Elliot suggestion, and am chuckling about Lara, and yes to Tess learning a trade.
Duncan should maybe not drop into the Macbeth's for the night. And Macbeth should definitely not stop to chat to those dodgy hags on the way home.
And Lady Catherine de Bourgh should learn to play the piano.
Posted by: Anne Gracie | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 02:16 PM
Exactly, Anne - we want to save these misguided characters, but then what would happen to the stories? Rendered much less interesting. . .
But I do think Romeo and Juliet should both resolve to read all ingredients carefully, and to double check with each other before doing something impulsive!
Susan
Posted by: Susan | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 02:42 PM
Indeed, Susan.
But isn't it the message we want all our kids to take in? -- 'Don't take drugs!" ;)
Posted by: Anne Gracie | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 03:05 PM
Message to Cathy in WUTHERING HEIGHTS: "Stop dating psychopathic stalker bad boys!" *g*
Posted by: Mary Jo Putney | Friday, January 04, 2013 at 03:33 PM
I know this would radically change my favorite book but I think that Beth March should resolve to take better precautions when helping sick neighbors so that she does not get ill herself. I chose to give Beth the resolution and forced myself not to make one for Jo, but it was not easy!
Posted by: Marie | Saturday, January 05, 2013 at 08:12 PM
LOL, I love all the answers, but if the characters would have done it, where would the stories be?
Posted by: Ella Quinn | Sunday, January 06, 2013 at 06:41 AM