Dancing for the fifth

There's one important thing I've learned since moving to Ringmer: 'bonfire' is a verb and an adjective as well as a noun. But this isn't the kind of linguistic error sometimes heard when over-enthusiastic broadcasters predict Olympic athletes may 'medal' and racing drivers could 'podium'. Instead, it shows how strong the bonfire tradition is in this part of the world. I imagine some bonfire society members are capable of holding entire conversations by using the single word ‘bonfire’ with varying intonation.

To be honest, I've always had a slightly strange relationship with bonfire traditions. As a child growing up in West Sussex, I'd often be taken to Littlehampton bonfire night. This took place on the Saturday before November 5th, which seemed inappropriately premature, although the presence of men in blackface makeup and African warrior costumes puzzled me even more. Why weren't they singing Al Jolson songs?

Sometimes, as an alternative, we’d attend the celebrations of Clapham and Patching bonfire club. These took place on the weekend after Guy Fawkes Night, which was no less confusing. However, eventually I understood these were all secondary to the fiery festivity that took place in Lewes.

I have vivid memories of one family trip when we snuck over the county border into Lewes for Bonfire night. The air was thick with smoke and paraffin fumes from the torches. But despite my imagining that the entire crowd could spontaneously combust, there was no real-life drama. Even as a youngster I was aware of 'volenti non fit injuria'; a concept my family tended to refer to as 'it's your own stupid fault'.

Finally, after all the societies had paraded, all the brass bands had marched and a few people in the crowd had tried to chuck a rookie into a passing tuba, there was time for one last mysterious tradition. This was the Going Home Dance, which wasn't just conducted by our family but by the entire conglomeration of visitors. It starts with a child standing on the kerb next to their parent's car. They lift their left leg, usually holding it by the ankle, while the parent shines a light on the sole of the child's left shoe. When the parent nods, the child hops to their right leg, taking care not to topple onto the verge. Sometimes this is when the dance ends. Yet if the parent issues the command "wipe!", there's a completely new set of moves as the child shuffles vigorously on any nearby grass. Only when the all-clear is given does the journey home begin.

Today, as an adult, I understand much more about the origins of bonfire. I’m proud to live near Lewes. And I’m planning to be in the bonfire crowd with my torch. Battery, not paraffin. Just in case I need to dance.

First published in Viva Lewes magazine issue 98 November 2014.