Johan Huizinga, trans. Ronald Payton and Ulrich Mammitzsch
When the world was half a thousand years younger all events had much sharper outlines than now. The distance between sadness and joy, between good and bad fortune, seemed to be much greater than for us; every experience had that degree of directness and absoluteness that joy and sadness still have the mind of a child. Every event, every deed was defined in given and expressive forms and was in accord with the solemnity of a tight invariable life style. The great events of human life--birth, marriage, death--by virtue of the sacraments, basked in the radiance of the divine mystery. But even the lesser events--a journey, labor, a visit--were accompanied by a multitude of blessings, ceremonies, sayings, and conventions.
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I joined hands with my wife and daughter, and they with the hands of college friend of my daughter, as I listened to Kari's earthy blessing of our traditional meal. This coincided with blue jays, chickadees, and nuthatches feasting on gray-striped sunflower seeds just outside our dining room window, as they surely must have done in the waning days of a cusp era Homo Ludens like Erasmus of Rotterdam. In these days of Harry- Potter extravaganzas in movie sanctuaries across America, we can be thankful for timeless wits like Johan Huizinga and Dawn Potter!
Birds everywhere here as well, and fat grey squirrels that make the dog quiver with happiness. So glad to know there's someone out there who's also thinking of Johan Huizinga and his patient, tender prose.
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