A Brave New Burns Supper

Well, ye wee kelpies (whatever that means). There's a bit of a chill in the air here in my native Brooklyn, and I'm in a bit o' a Burns nicht state o' mind. The last fourteen months have been sorely trying here, as you can imagine, and though Burns night 2002 was a bit melancholy, it was comforting to be with friends from far and wide to share sweet, sentimental expressions of the human spirit, and a whisky gill. Our American Dauphin would have us believe that all human - and international - relationships can be reduced to their simplest common denominators: Good vs. Evil, Christendom vs. the Saracen, Bourbon vs. Scotch. Every Burns loving person knows it's not that simple. Our bonds are complex. Every relationship is special and personal. Burns appreciated this, never writing about abstract emotion, but always about it's complex, personal effect. Rabbie didn't philosophize upon the "idea of mice;" he spoke directly to a mouse (or a louse, or a horse, or a lover).

Burns knew that the wee, sleeket, cowran, tim'rous beastie was no match for his plow. That's the way it is. That's life. But that fact of life did not lessen the humanity of the mouse to Burns. Might does not make right. The kind of self doubt that plagues Burns in his poem doesn't perturb our inarticulate and simple President. Bush's corporate pandering, his trite sloganeering, and his dialectical world view ring hollow to anyone who has ever read a poem. We'll need a little poetry to get by in our newly dangerous world - along with a quaich full of diplomacy, love, guile, friendship, empathy, wisdom, and whisky. We'll also need a good, strong plow.

I'll send an invitation to Doubya this year, and I really hope he makes it. If he doesn't show up I at least hope he R.S.V.P's this time. (I hate it when people don't R.S.V.P! It's the heighth of rudeness; really evil.) I'm not one to make value judgements, but you know - the Shrub is more of a bourbon and pretzel kind of guy - the type who despises all Burns loving people. We must destroy his weapons of mass simplification! Regime change starts at home... and why not kick it off with a really fine Burns supper?

Every Burns Supper has its own special form and flavor, though there are probably more similarities than differences among these gastro-literary affairs. Individual tastes and talents will determine the character of your Burns Supper. Some celebrants may contribute the composition of original songs or poems; some may excel at giving toasts or reciting verse; while others may be captivating storytellers. A particular group of celebrants will, over time, develop a unique group character which will distinguish their Burns Supper celebration from every other.

Our core group has been meeting for 12 years, and started off on a whim, without any notion of traditional form, other than the idea that we would eat haggis, read Burns, and drink whisky (not necessarily in that order). An itinerary evolved that's closely related to (cribbed from) the traditional Burns Supper itinerary provided by David Sibbald, of the Glasgow & District Burns Association. Our itinerary is still evolving, as we steal ideas from others and invent a few conventions of our own - such as the annual passing around and reading of a lost Burns manuscript fragment that was found by a friend of mine in a Boston attic.

With a little bit of planning anyone (well, almost anyone) can enjoy a Burns Night celebration. All that's needed is a place to gather (gracious host), plenty of haggis and neeps to go around (splendid chef), a master of ceremonies (foolhardy chairman), friendly celebrants (you and your drouthy cronies), and good Scotch drink to keep you warm (BYOB). With these ingredients, at least a few celebrants will be able to make prattling fools of themselves, trying to do justice to the words and spirit of Robert Burns. And if everyone brings along a wee dram and a bit of poetry, prose or song then each, in turn, may become an object of mirth and amusement to the gathered throng. Be prepared to enjoy yourself beyond all expectation. With good cheer and gay company we all may, in short, be able to ring in the Bard's birthday fou rarely.

I've found that most people, although they may be unaware of it, love to attend Burns Suppers. They may feel a little intimidated at the idea of attending a participatory event, but are attracted by the idea of a ribald literary soiree. (They may perceive a Burns Supper to be some sort of droll intellectual exercise - it has hip cachet and doesn't sound too threatening.) These people are often wonderfully appreciative guests and end up having a great time. And therein lies a dilemma for all Burns Supper organizers: Motivating guests to be active participants, rather than passive appreciators. Everyone should feel comfortable taking part with verse, anecdote or song, but they may need a little help and encouragement. So as a Burns Supper chairman it is highly recommended that you come prepared with plenty of literary ammunition with which to arm any unprepared, or reluctant, celebrants. It helps if you know your guests and can match them with a suitable reading. Better still, you may be able to gently motivate them, in advance, by including an informal listing of sources along with your charming (I'm sure) Burns Supper invitation. Hopefully that, along with the good vibes and 16 year old whisky , will be all the encouragement anyone will need to lower their inhibitions to a level that Burns, himself, would appreciate.