We have recently had occasion to observe a ritual that is rampant across the United States. It is one that, in our opinion, speaks to deep fissures in the civilized psyche, but it is seldom recognized or understood for what it really is.
In this ritual, the adult members of a household spend days cleaning their living space. They pick up, put away, mop floors, vacuum carpets, wipe down tables. They then decorate the house, often evoking themes related to magic, wonder, or the exotic. They hang streamers, paint dioramas, paste paper flowers and animal shapes on the walls. They then prepare a small feast, the centerpiece of which is a large cake, which can be of almost any flavor, but is almost always covered with a thick layer of frosting.
On the appointed day, the parents open the doors of their home to a raging juvenile horde. The little revelers proceed to rapidly destroy all of the preparations upon which the adults spent so much time and effort. They tear down the streamers and swing them like bull whips, they use markers and pens provided for craft activities to gouge cavities in the walls, they break any toys or games bought specifically for use at this festivity before the instructions can be read. They thunder up and down the stairs, terrifying pets and babies. They leap off of high tables and climb up curtains. In some cases they then bludgeon an effigy of an innocent creature until it cracks and spills out unwholesome treasure. Drunk on excess, the children then gather around a table, where they howl before a representation of the destructive god of fire and exalt the one amongst them who has made this gathering possible. They are then served vastly oversized portions of the cake, which they consume, until their blood sugar levels reach a saturation point. They then make use of what’s left of the cake by grinding it into upholstered furniture.
Can you name this ritual? Yes, we imagine you can. You’ve seen it many times. Yes, this is what we call a birthday party. But once the veil of familiarity is ripped away, we see the unbridled strangeness at its heart. How to explain this?
It is clearly a ritual of appeasement. The adults must grant their children these Dionysiac revels out of fear of something. Is it fear of retribution? No. Not directly. We suspect instead it’s a deeper, unnamed fear. Look at how the children unmake all the preparations of the parents. Look at how elements of childish fantasy and wish fulfillment are propped up only to be torn down by the children themselves. It is a ritualized destruction of the parents’ expectations and hopes for their children. It is an acting out of parents’ fear that their children will fail them. Children, no matter how small, always have this power over their parents—to simply disappoint them. That disappointment is not a trivial thing; it is a profound challenge to the world the parents live in and wish to perpetuate on their offspring. It is a demarcation of the limit of the parent’s power. It is an affirmation of the parent’s frailty and final mortality. In this sense, every parent looks into the eyes of a growing child and sees the obliteration of their own wishes and the certainty that their rigid civilization will have to be razed and remade by these mad creatures for life to go on.
But a good birthday party somehow makes it all seem fun!
