Monday, May 24, 2004
Fêting
I went to a fêting this weekend. The mother of the male half of the couple being celebrated (not a groom, since it wasn't a wedding) called it "sort of a wedding without a minister" and that's accurate to a point.
The ceremony consisted of the "fride" and the "froom" (so was the terminology decided) first speaking about them, their story, their history -- although in less straightforward language than might have been expected. (They both hold advanced degrees in English Literature.) Those were the vows. Then a succession of friends toasted the couple, interspersed with the couple toasting their parents, various locations, the reception hall, etc. Finally, the fride and the froom toasted one another and we all sat down for dinner.
The entire evening was remarkably "them" -- by this I mean that nothing about it astonished me, knowing them as I do. But when the fride said, "I know this isn't a traditional event, but I am somewhat traditional -- and very much wanted to have 'something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.' " -- well, I wondered what she, and he, will think of it all in a few years.
Will they revel in the uniqueness of their fêting? Will they sit around tables of friends with coffee and scotch and swap stories of funny and special moments and always with great grins of joy?
Or will a day come when they'll watch the video and flip through pictures and wish they'd done things differently? Wish they'd had a marriage certificate or a minister or a justice of the peace; regret the format or the length or the solemnity? Will they wish they'd looked only at each other as they shared their vows instead of reading from a podium to the audience/congregation?
Weddings -- and fêtings -- are funny things nowadays. Everyone is intent on making their ceremony their own, different, unusual, unique. Some more, some less. I can't dispute that many joinings I've attended have been branded so nicely by the couple. But I also can't dispute that for millenia such joinings have followed a standard formula -- man and woman exchange vows, others impart wisdom by reading their own words or those of others, man and woman exchange a symbolic token, and someone with authority pronounces them wed. In the Quaker tradition (which the fride and froom were emulating to an extent), the someone in authority is actually the entire community, but that fits the formula as well.
The fêted couple did follow the formula, in a sense. But they did not have a mutual exchange of tokens (the fride gave the froom a gift, but that was more a part of her vows, and there were no rings). And, most differently, they had no moment of "pronouncement."
I think that's what I missed most -- a moment where someone, or even just the audience/congregation, as in the Quaker tradition, marked the difference between What Was Before and What Is Now. I hope the fride and froom experienced the shift. Otherwise, the evening was for everyone else and not for them.
The ceremony consisted of the "fride" and the "froom" (so was the terminology decided) first speaking about them, their story, their history -- although in less straightforward language than might have been expected. (They both hold advanced degrees in English Literature.) Those were the vows. Then a succession of friends toasted the couple, interspersed with the couple toasting their parents, various locations, the reception hall, etc. Finally, the fride and the froom toasted one another and we all sat down for dinner.
The entire evening was remarkably "them" -- by this I mean that nothing about it astonished me, knowing them as I do. But when the fride said, "I know this isn't a traditional event, but I am somewhat traditional -- and very much wanted to have 'something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.' " -- well, I wondered what she, and he, will think of it all in a few years.
Will they revel in the uniqueness of their fêting? Will they sit around tables of friends with coffee and scotch and swap stories of funny and special moments and always with great grins of joy?
Or will a day come when they'll watch the video and flip through pictures and wish they'd done things differently? Wish they'd had a marriage certificate or a minister or a justice of the peace; regret the format or the length or the solemnity? Will they wish they'd looked only at each other as they shared their vows instead of reading from a podium to the audience/congregation?
Weddings -- and fêtings -- are funny things nowadays. Everyone is intent on making their ceremony their own, different, unusual, unique. Some more, some less. I can't dispute that many joinings I've attended have been branded so nicely by the couple. But I also can't dispute that for millenia such joinings have followed a standard formula -- man and woman exchange vows, others impart wisdom by reading their own words or those of others, man and woman exchange a symbolic token, and someone with authority pronounces them wed. In the Quaker tradition (which the fride and froom were emulating to an extent), the someone in authority is actually the entire community, but that fits the formula as well.
The fêted couple did follow the formula, in a sense. But they did not have a mutual exchange of tokens (the fride gave the froom a gift, but that was more a part of her vows, and there were no rings). And, most differently, they had no moment of "pronouncement."
I think that's what I missed most -- a moment where someone, or even just the audience/congregation, as in the Quaker tradition, marked the difference between What Was Before and What Is Now. I hope the fride and froom experienced the shift. Otherwise, the evening was for everyone else and not for them.
