Halloween Read online

  By the beginning of the twentieth century, middle-class Halloween became more of a children’s holiday full of harmless amusements. Parties, scavenger hunts, and other games became the focus. Scary and eerie elements were sanitized into safe, folkloric fun.

  Among the lower classes, however, Halloween remained a night of rough mischief. It became an increasingly destructive way to for poor city dwellers to vent their frustrations. By the 1920s vandalism was no longer confined to tipping over outhouses and soaping windows. Severe property damage, fires, and cruelty to animals and people became all too common. Local civic groups mobilized to deal with the “Halloween problem.” Various charitable and community activities—raking leaves, neighborhood clean-ups, property improvements—were organized with young participants treated to parties as a reward. Children were encouraged to go door to door and receive treats instead of making trouble. By the 1930s these “beggar’s nights” were starting to be practiced all over U.S. The term “trick or treat” first appeared in print in 1934.

  But vandalism and destruction—particularly in crowded urban areas like Detroit, Chicago, and New York—continued to grow. In 1933 and 1934—probably not coincidentally in the dire economic depths of the Great Depression—boys and young men wrought great destruction, even rioting. Arson, overturning cars, sawing down telephone poles, flooding from opened hydrants, blocking thoroughfares, breaking street lights, and other vandalism brought official community encouragement of organized social activities and contests.

  World War II made pranking even more seriously frowned upon, even unpatriotic. The Chicago City Council banned Halloween for the duration of the war, substituting “Conservation Day” in its stead. Single-minded community intolerance of wasteful destruction and vigilance curtailed vandalism in other communities. Although some communities did away with officially sanctioning Halloween, most saw the holiday as an opportunity for morale building. Even though some festivities were altered due to war shortages, substitutions and innovation made for adequate wartime Halloween celebrating.

  After the war, civic leaders continued their campaigns for “safe and sane” Halloween activities. Halloween became, more and more during the 1940s and 1950s, a holiday for children to enjoy rather than one for pranksters. In the fifties, the impetus moved back to school and family activities. Trick or treating became a firmly entrenched nationwide custom. Its implied threat became less and less a reality in most communities; in others the “tricks” were relegated to a Mischief Night and the “treats” to Halloween itself.

  By the 1960s, when most Americans were no longer particularly frightened by supernatural entities, a new element arose: the fear of sadistic or deranged adults intent on harming children. These “urban legends” were originally given impetus by incidents with some truth, but no real malicious intent. In the mid-sixties, the fear was of poisoned candy. In 1967 the focus became the threat of razors and sharp objects hidden in apples (and later candy). In 1973-74, completely unfounded rumors of a Satanic cults plotting to kidnap and sacrifice children on Halloween arose. These new legends altered Halloween celebrations. Trick or treat was banned entirely in some areas; safety factors and “safe” festivities were stressed.

  Some conservative fundamentalist Christian groups also began to come out against celebrating Halloween in the 1970s. Many churches, including fundamentalist denominations, had previously sponsored “wholesome” community Halloween activities. Some of the anti-Halloween propaganda from these groups also tended toward anti-Catholicism. In the 1990s some public schools reacted to parental concerns about Halloween—sometimes linked to promoting violence and violent images—by substituting “Harvest Festivals” for Halloween celebrations.

  In some parts of the world, All Saints Day and All Souls Day are still important days of religious observance, and in the U.S. there is still a Christian religious aspect to the holiday as marked by Roman Catholics, Anglicans, and Episcopalians. Modern Wiccans and other neopagans consider Samhain a major holiday. But Halloween as we now know it is a secular holiday with no religious significance for most. In the late nineties, there were even some unsuccessful organized efforts made to change the celebration of Halloween to the last Saturday in October, citing practical, safety, and merchandising advantages.

  In many ways, modern Halloween has actually become two separate celebrations. One is for adults, the other is child-oriented. For both, Halloween is often celebrated more than just one night. The entire month of October is now full of events and entertainment.

  For grown-ups, Halloween is now the third biggest “party day” (after New Year’s and Super Bowl Sunday) of the year. According to the National Retail Federation, young adults (age 18-24 years) are more likely than any other age group to throw or attend a party (55.4%). Halloween marketing began to shift toward adults in the seventies. By 1980, a quarter of adults aged 18 to 40 wore some form of costume; by 1986, it was around 60%. In 2010, Americans spent an estimated $800 million on costumes for children, $1 billion on costumes for adults. Adults celebrate not only at home, but at work; nightclubs, restaurants, and bars host Halloween events. Haunted attractions—from local charity-run haunted locations to more extravagant for-profit attractions and major commercial theme parks—now number in the thousands. The commercial enterprises have become a multi-million dollar industry. Although some cater to youngsters, most are aimed at scaring teens and young adults.

  The kids’ version of Halloween evolves around masquerade, parties, family-oriented events (hayrides, not-very-scary haunted houses, and pumpkin patches), and trick or treating—even if the latter is sometimes restricted, adult-controlled, and made entirely “safe.” At the same time, many of the negative myths that arose in the previous three decades were, by the end of the nineties, beginning to be debunked by the media.

  A fairly recent innovation, Halloween-themed “agritainment” and has helped offset the loss of traditional farm income, often in a big way. Offering far more than a simple hayride through harvested fields, there are now “fall family adventure farms,” complicated corn mazes, pick-it-yourself pumpkin fields, haunted barns and stables, and usually plenty of tasty edibles.

  “Educational” events with a Halloween theme abound. Parks, zoos, museums, and nature study facilities teach both adults and children about traditionally scary creatures likes owls, spiders, snakes and bats. There are ghost-tours related to historic locations and events; some older cemeteries even use Halloween as an excuse to nurture an appreciation of history.

  “Trick or Treat for UNICEF” is no longer the only charitable event using Halloween for a good cause. There are blood drives with vampires, programs to collect used costumes to allow homeless and disadvantaged children to dress up for the holiday, balls to raise funds for AIDS research, and more.

  Halloween remains a predominately North American holiday. It is popular in England: By 2010, the British grocery chain Tesco estimated its Halloween sales had almost tripled—to £55 million—since 2005. (In 2010, they sold 1.4 million pumpkins.) In terms of retail sales, only Christmas and Easter are bigger. Ghost walks, pumpkin carving, dance parties, club nights, and similar events are common. Trick or treating was once widespread, but the last few years have seen its decline. Blame for this new dislike may lie with parental disdain for teaching children the rude behavior of “begging” and what appears to be a rise in egging, flour bombs, and other “anti-social” behavior. “No Trick or Treat Here” posters have been made widely available in many communities. Evidently British youths have put the “tricks” back into the custom.

  The Japanese are now starting to celebrate Halloween to some extent. Halloween bento—a meal served in a box—can be bought along with seasonal pumpkin-flavored chocolate and cookies featuring pictures of koalas dressed in Halloween costumes. Trick or treating is not commonplace, but dressing up in costumes for parades is popular.

  In Romania, where Dracula has become a tourist industry, adult nightclubs throw parties with bat and vamp
ire themes.

  In the mid-1990s, Halloween seemed to be catching on in France. American companies like McDonald’s, and Disneyland Paris had Halloween themes; some nightclubs and bars had events. But, from the beginning, French media denounced Halloween as an American marketing gimmick. In 2006, the newspaper Le Monde pronounced Halloween “more or less buried” in France.

  In the last few years, Halloween has been creeping into Austria, Belgium, Germany, Italy, Norway, Sweden, and Italy, but is not widely celebrated. There has been some backlash in Europe against what is seen as yet another example of crass American commercialism undermining traditional culture and, in some cases, religion. Similarly, Halloween seems to have little chance to take hold “Down Under.” A 2009 survey by News.com.au asked: “Should Australia ditch Halloween as an event on the calendar?” More than 77% of the respondents replied, “Yes, It’s totally irrelevant.”

  For Americans, Halloween has manifested itself as an important—if still unofficial—holiday. We are just now beginning to seriously investigate its history and antecedents even as we adapt it to an ever-changing society and devise new traditions and customs with which to celebrate. What we do at Halloween—and what it does for us—varies from individual to individual and group to group depending on our beliefs, backgrounds, sexual orientation, even employment.

  There are certain rites of passage associated with Halloween as well. As we progress through different stages in life, we relate to Halloween in different ways. The day comes when we are “too old” for trick or treat, but that may mean we are ready for more adult activities. Young adults often mix the modern equivalent of “matchmaking” with Halloween celebrations. As we become parents ourselves, we pass on traditions, give out the treats, and make the costumes: we become responsible for supplying some of the magic ourselves. At the same time, we discover we still have a need to be, for just one night, something other than what we usually are. Instead of becoming gatekeepers for a new generation, some adults extend the fantasy of Halloween far past the perimeters of age.

  Whatever its history, Halloween is anything but a dead tradition. It is, perhaps, more alive and more meaningful now than ever before.

  This essay has been updated and considerably modified from an earlier version that appeared as “A Short History of Halloween” in October Dreams: A Celebration of Halloween, edited by Richard Chizmar and Robert Morrish, published by Cemetery Dance Publications in 2000.

  If you are interested in learning more about the history of Halloween, I recommend only a handful of books . . . and avoiding a great deal of what you will find online. First and foremost is The Halloween Encyclopedia (Second Edition) by Lisa Morton (McFarland, 2011). I wish I’d had the first edition (2003) when I wrote “A Short History of Halloween”! Also by Morton: A Hallowe’en Anthology (McFarland, 2008). Full of original source materials, it may not appeal to the casual reader, but if you are a true Halloween enthusiast it is full of goodies. Halloween: An American Holiday, an American History (Pelican, 1999) and Halloween Nation: Behind the Scenes of America’s Fright Night (Pelican, 2011), both by Lesley Pratt Bannatyne are also recommended. Ballatyne’s A Halloween Reader: Poems, Stories, and Plays from Halloween Past (Pelican, 2004) will, like Morton’s Anthology, appeal to dedicated Halloweenists.

  Paula Guran

  June 2011

  A NOTE ON SPELLING: Halloween or Hallowe’en? Personally I prefer the latter as closer to the original meaning of the word, but the holiday is now so thoroughly “Americanized” the version without the apostrophe is probably more widely used. For this anthology, I’ve employed Halloween in my own comments, but adhered to whichever spelling was preferred by the authors—so you’ll find both. However, I conformed stylistically to jack o’ lantern, All Hallows, All Souls, All Saints, and trick or treat (and variants) with no hyphenation (unless the term is used as an adjective modifying a noun).

  CONVERSATIONS IN A DEAD LANGUAGE

  Thomas Ligotti

  Thomas Ligotti’s postal protagonist is both disturbing and disturbed. This elegantly sinister, highly suspenseful story combines both modern non-supernatural horror and the traditionally supernatural.

  The idea of an evil human preying on the innocent at Halloween is a fairly recent inclusion in the mythos. The fearful aspects of the holiday are more rooted in uncertainty of the coming dark season, the possibility of being trapped outside normality, or dealing with an unappeased spirit, witch, or malicious trickster. At worst some otherworldly monster might enter our world or the Devil attempt to make a bargain. But by the time Jon Carpenter’s 1978 film Halloween introduced the masses to the idea of a maniacal killer on the loose—or perhaps its sociological reflection of our culture—we were thinking more about frightful humans than placating the supernatural. Ligotti gives us both to consider.

  I

  After changing out of his uniform, he went downstairs to search the kitchen drawers, rattling his way through cutlery and cooking utensils. Finally he found what he wanted. A carving knife, a holiday knife, the traditional blade he’d used over the years. Knifey-wifey.

  First he carved out an eye, spearing the triangle with the point of his knife and neatly drawing the pulpy thing from its socket. Pinching the blade, he slid his two fingers along the blunt edge, pushing the eye onto the newspaper he’d carefully placed next to the sink. Another eye, a nose, a howling oval mouth. Done. Except for manually scooping out the seedy and stringy entrails and supplanting them with a squat little candle of the vigil type. Guide them, holy lantern, through darkness and disaster. To me. To meezy-weezy.

  He dumped several bags of candy into a large potato chip bowl, fingering pieces here and there: the plump caramels, the tarty sour balls, the chocolate kisses for the kids. A few were test-chewed for taste and texture. A few more. Not too many, for some of his co-workers already called him Fatass, almost behind his back. And he would spoil the holiday dinner he had struggled to prepare in the little time left before dark. Tomorrow he’d start his diet and begin making more austere meals for himself.

  At dark he brought the pumpkin out to the porch, placing it on a small but lofty table over which he’d draped a bedsheet no longer in normal use. He scanned the old neighborhood. Beyond the railings of other porches and in picture windows up and down the street glowed a race of new faces in the suburb. Holiday visitors come to stay the night, without a hope of surviving till the next day. All Souls Day. Father Mickiewicz was saying an early morning mass, which there would be just enough time to attend before going to work.

  No kids yet. Wait. There we go, bobbing down the street: a scarecrow, a robot, and—what is it?—oh, a white-faced clown. Not the skull-faced thing he’d at first thought it was, pale and hollow-eyed as the moon shining frostily on one of the clearest nights he’d ever seen. The stars were a frozen effervescence.

  Better get inside. They’ll be coming soon. Waiting behind the glass of the front door with the bowl of candy under his arm, he nervously grabbed up palmsful of the sweets and let them fall piece by piece back into the bowl, a buccaneer reveling in his loot . . . a grizzled-faced pirate, eye-patch over an empty socket, a Jolly Roger on his cap with X marking the spot in bones, running up the front walk, charging up the wooden stairs of the porch, rubber cutlass stuffed in his pants.

  “Trick or treat.”

  “Well, well, well,” he said, his voice rising in pitch with each successive “well.” “If it isn’t Blackbeard. Or is it Bluebeard, I always forget. But you don’t have a beard at all, do you?” The pirate shook his head shyly to say “no.” “Maybe we should call you Nobeard, then, at least until you start shaving.”

  “I have a moustache. Trick or treat, mister,” the boy said, impatiently holding up an empty pillowcase.

  “You do have a nice moustache at that. Here you go, then,” he said, tossing a handful of candy into the sack. “And cut a few throats for me,” he shouted as the boy turned and ran off.

  He didn’t have to say those last words so lo
udly. Neighbors. No, no one heard. The streets are filled with shouters tonight, one the same as another. Listen to the voices all over the neighborhood, music against the sounding board of silence and the chill infinity of autumn.

  Here come some more. Goody.

  Trick or treat: an obese skeleton, meat bulging under its painted-costume bones. How unfortunate, especially at his age. Fatass of the boneyard and the schoolyard. Give him an extra handful of candy. “Thanks a lot, mister,” “Here, have more.” Then the skeleton waddled down the porch steps, its image thinning out into the nullity of the darkness, candy-filled paper bag rattling away to a whisper.

  Trick or treat: an overgrown baby, bibbed and bootied, with a complexion problem erupting on its pre-adolescent face. “Well, cootchie coo,” he said to the infant as he showered its open bunting with candy. Baby sneered as it toddled off, pouchy diapers slipping down its backside, disappearing once again into the black from which it had momentarily emerged.

  Trick or treat: midget vampire, couldn’t be more than six years old. Wave to Mom waiting on the sidewalk. “Very scary. Your parents must he proud. Did you do all that makeup work yourself?” he whispered. The little thing mutely gazed up, its eyes underlined with kohl-dark smudges. It then used a tiny finger, pointy nail painted black, to indicate the guardian figure near the street. “Mom, huh? Does she like sourballs? Sure she does. Here’s some for Mom and some more for yourself, nice red ones to suck on. That’s what you scary vampires like, eh?” he finished, winking. Cautiously descending the stairs, the child of the night returned to its parent, and both proceeded to the next house, joining the anonymous ranks of their predecessors.