Another pagan fertility ritual

PETER BUFFA

Don’t say a word. I don’t like it any more than you do.

Now then, tomorrow, if I am not mistaken, is Feb. 14, a.k.a.

Valentine’s Day. Are you excited? I knew you would be. You know what

to do and when to do it, although some of you do it better than

others.

The question is, do you know why you do it? Who started this thing

anyway, and whose idea were the cards and the gifts and the flowers

and the romantic dinners and who knows what all, as long as there’s a

big, bright red heart in there somewhere?

As with most holidays and traditions, no one really knows.

Feb. 14 is the namesake day of two early Christians, both named

Valentine and both martyred in Rome in the 3rd century.

The more likely Valentine’s Day daddy was the St. Valentine who

was a priest during the reign of Emperor Claudius II, around 270 A.D.

Claudius was an unpleasant, humorless person who had his imperial

hands full pushing the Roman Empire west into Gaul and fighting

barbarians on a number of fronts at the same time, which is probably

why he was so cranky.

When he had trouble finding enough recruits for his armies, he

somehow decided the problem was that Roman men didn’t want to leave

their sweetie pies, or in Latin, sweetius piius. In one of those

grand, idiotic moves that only emperors get to make, he nullified all

marriages and engagements in Rome.

But St. Valentine said “Whaddaunuts?” and secretly married as many

couples as he could, until he was found out, which made Claudius

really, really mad and made Valentine really, really dead. And on

that sad note, Valentine became the patron saint of love and

marriage.

But most historians think Valentine’s Day has more to do with the

ancient Roman holiday of Lupercalia, a fertility festival celebrated

each year in mid-February. One of the favorite Lupercalia party games

was putting the names of the girls in a bowl and having the boys each

draw a name. That was your date for the entire festival, and any

relationship that lasted beyond that was supposed to be blessed with

good luck and lots of little Romans, sometimes called Romanettes.

But churches take a dim view of pagan festivals in general and

ones pushing fertility in particular. When Romans continued to

celebrate Lupercalia, the church made an announcement.

“Listen up, people,” it said. “We’re OK with the singing and

dancing and drawing names, but until further notice, Feb. 14 is a day

to honor Saint Valentine.”

“Who is that?” people asked.

“Never mind,” said the church. “That’s all for now. Happy

Valentine’s Day.”

Things haven’t changed all that much in the 1,800 or so

Valentine’s Days since then. There have been all sorts of variations

on the Valentine’s Day theme from country to country and culture to

culture, but the idea of showing your love, or at least affection,

and exchanging a small token of that love has remained constant.

In the Middle Ages, young people still did the

draw-a-name-from-the-bowl thing. The names were printed on a

heart-shaped piece of paper that you’d wear on your sleeve for one

week, which is where “wearing your heart on your sleeve” comes from.

They also believed that if a woman saw a robin flying overhead on

Valentine’s Day, it meant she would marry a sailor. If she saw a

goldfinch, she would marry a very wealthy man. But if she saw a

sparrow, she would marry a poor man. It was a very dangerous time to

be a sparrow.

Pre-printed Valentine’s Day cards first showed up in the 1700s,

and by the 1800s, they were everywhere. The first mass-produced cards

in the U.S. were made and sold by a woman named Esther A. Howland in

the 1840s, and to this day, there are banners all over the Hallmark

Cards offices that say, “We love you, Esther.”

According to the Greeting Card Assn., about one billion

Valentine’s Day cards wend their way to somebody’s heart every year,

which makes it the second largest card holiday of the year, after

Christmas and the 2.6 billion cards that it causes. And for all you

guys out there who think you’re romantic, don’t be so sure. More than

80% of those one billion Valentine’s Day cards are purchased by

women.

And then there are the results of a Valentine’s Day survey of

7,000 classic car owners that was done by Hagerty Insurance, a

company that specializes in insuring classic cars. Of the 7,000

classic car owners, almost all of whom are of the male variety, 60%

spent more on their car in the last year than on their significant

other. Sixty-two percent talk to their classic car on a regular

basis, which is scary, and 42% have given their car a name. And here

are the bell ringers: Twenty-nine percent bought a Valentine Day’s

“present” for their car last year, and 57% of those spent more than

$250 doing it.

Nice work, men. I give up. So there you have it. Everything you

ever wanted to know about Valentine’s Day, Claudius II, ’65 Mustangs

and love. I hope you’re writing this stuff down.

I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs

Sundays. He may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].