Jack-O-Lanterns

A jack-o'-lantern (or jack o'lantern) is a carved pumpkin, turnip, or other root vegetable lantern^[1] associated with Halloween. Its name comes from the phenomenon of a strange light flickering over peat bogs, called will-o'-the-wisp or jack-o'-lantern. The name is also tied to the Irish legend of Stingy Jack, a drunkard who bargains with Satan and is doomed to roam the Earth with only a hollowed turnip to light his way.

Jack-o'-lanterns are a yearly Halloween tradition that came to the United States from Irish immigrants.  - Wikipedia

What mother has not been elbow deep in the bowels of a pumpkin, sharpest knife in hand, the sticky threads of innards curling around the knife blade, or silver spoon ladling hard, or just hands scratching at the sinewy depths of another yearly pumpkin promise?  If you have not had the pleasure of the treasured tradition of carving a Halloween pumpkin, then run as quickly as you can, to the local supermarket and buy the biggest one you can find, gather up xacto-knives, silver spoon, hack saw, whatever you think you need to cut away eyes, nose mouth, jagged teeth, top hat stem, whatever, buy a few candles, and voila, off you go now.  It will be such fun!  NOT!

How many of us tried to cut nice curlique lines with a Xacto knife and how many blades did you break before you tossed the danged thing and hit the dollar store for a plastic one?  Seriously, why do we think we can be Da'Vinci who can carve the tough skin of a pumpkin as if it were the Sistine chapel?  Seriously?  And how does a scary pumpkin head belong to Halloween anyways?  Vegans unite against blasphemy of one of your precious veggie commodities for Fall.

Ok, well, at least let's make it a rule that only those from Ireland and England can carve them. Swedish people can still carve turnips again, or beets or cabbages.  But just because some Johnny, er, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater found out that pumpkins grew great in America, doesn't mean we should steal cultural ideas, right?

Ok, I love pumpkin pie as much as the rest of you.  But, no, you cannot eat a pumpkin after it was carved, had an overflowing candle stuck down its throat, and sat out on the porch for a week.  I will so waste and want not though, if onloy to keep up with the neighbors that have fireplace burning sounds screeching through the neighborhood to match the fake candle wick within.  Why does everything have to be a contest, anyways?

Let's get this straight.  Jack O' Lantern was not a pumpkin in the first place.  Pumpkins did not grow in Ireland either.  And turnips shone just as brightly from the bit of glowing embers in their middle.  His name was really Stingy Jack.  Here's his story as I know it (Just sayin', I looked it up - any excuse will do as far as my goopy hands are considered):

Stingy Jack was a drunken fool who loved to play tricks on everyone, the Devil included.  He once talked the devil to climb up an apple tree (another plant climber, does Jack and the Giant come to mind?) and then, knowing about the Devil and crosses, he planted crosses all around the base of the tree.  Stingy Jack made a deal with the Devil that the Devil would not take his soul when he died.  Wellllll, of course the devil reneged on the deal.  When Stingy Jack died he was refused heaven because he was a danged mean drunk and he was promptly sent to Hell.  But, oh, a twist of fate, the devil would not have him in hell either and Stingy Jack was going to be forced to wander for eternity in the dark.  Jack begged the Devil for light and the Devil crammed ..no wait, the Devil gave him a turnip with an ember crammed in the center to use as a lantern.  You get the rest of the story, I am sure.

Anywaysssssss, Jack still traipses around, withered and angry and unhappy for the rest of his days.  So, the Irish, who knew about Jack and his turnip, memorialized Stingy Jack with the carving of turnips.  They really used any turnipy thing they could carve and put an ember/candle in and this carried on with the Irish until they came to the Americas in the 1800s.  The Irish saw the pumpkin and thought they were much bettr a symbol than the turnip.  Imagine trying to carve a turnip?

We plunk whatever mess we have made of our pumpkins, out on our porches to show what good parents (pretty much always mother) we are.  And as the days go by, the pumpkin gets sadder, freezes to the wooden slats of the porch and dies a slow frozen and then thawing mess come Spring.  It is a mighty gooey mess.

So, go ahead, carve yourself a pumpkin.  I will applaud you with non-gooey hands.

Challenge:  Do an art journal page all about your own pumpkin patch or pumpkin scene. 

©Carol Desjarlais 10.6.19