[In honor of the 4th of July, a series highlighting various historical and cultural contexts for this uniquely American holiday. Leading up to a special weekend post on patriotism in 2022!]
On the
history, symbolism, and limitations of an American tradition.
As detailed
in this Slate
article, the intersection of fireworks and the 4th of July
literally goes back to the first, 1777 celebrations of the holiday (the first
because in 1776 July 4th was the date of the Declaration’s actual
dissemination and readings, rather than a holiday commemorating that occasion).
I had more to say about the John Adams letter referenced in that piece in yesterday’s
post, so here I’ll keep this paragraph short and say that you should certainly
check out that Slate piece by senior
editor Forrest
Wickman for a clear, concise depiction of the longstanding histories
(both American and international) of fireworks.
While
fireworks might have been present from those earliest Independence Day
celebrations on, however, I would argue that their July 4th
symbolism really took hold after the War of 1812, and more exactly after Francis Scott Key wrote “The
Star-Spangled Banner” in the aftermath of the siege of Baltimore’s
Fort McHenry during that conflict. After all, the central image of our national
anthem is a contrasting visual one, of seeing the flag through the
darkness—eventually “by the dawn’s early light,” but even more importantly by
the glow of “the bombs bursting in air” that “gave proof through the night.”
It’s a compelling and powerful image, the idea of a light in the darkness that
allows us to keep an eye on our national ideals. And whether fireworks actually
create a flag of fiery lights (as they often do for the 4th) or
simply burst in the night sky for our collective vision and inspiration, they
capture this defining national image in a visceral and affecting way.
Visceral
and affecting as fireworks might be, however, what they are not is
thought-provoking; indeed, as with many spectacular entertainments, they
require us not to think at all in order to get the most pleasure from their
spectacle. To be clear, as a fan of Star Wars and the James Bond
films, among many other spectacles, I don’t have any problem with such
entertainments being part of our culture and society. But as a commemoration of
our nation’s independence day, such a spectacle does seem to represent another
example of what I’ve elsewhere
described as the celebratory,
easy form of patriotism, the kind that asks nothing more of us than
our awed appreciation. So while such awe can and perhaps should be a part of
our July 4th celebrations, I’d love if there were space as well for
more reflective engagement with our history and community. Am I arguing for
Frederick Douglass-shaped fireworks? Maybe not—but I could definitely get
behind a brief reading from “What
to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” before every July 4th
fireworks ceremony. Give it a couple years and it’d be just as much a part of
the tradition as those fiery bombs bursting in air.
Next July
4th context tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What
do you think? Other 4th of July histories or contexts you’d
highlight?
Poor JA, couldn't get anybody to accept fancy titles for Mr Washington, couldn't get anybody to celebrate on the 2nd...
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