Midnight Magic in Málaga

 

The Feast of St John, as it is known today, was actually a pagan festival associated with the summer solstice, surrounded by myth and legend. In a time when witchery and demonism plagued the beliefs of humankind, the shortest night of the year was deemed the auspicious moment to thwart the evil spirits' fiendish crafts. Large cloth figures, filled with sawdust, paper, or similar matters, made by the people of the neighbourhoods, were set alight on the beaches after the midnight hour. These homemade dolls that symbolised and embodied the satanic ghouls were burned to ashes, and the people would then cleanse their souls and bodies and purify the demoniacs by bathing in the sea water. Pure magic. In time the Catholic Church sanctified the celebration and it became known as the Feast of Saint John the Baptist. Today it may be more of a tradition than anything else, but who knows when to trust the omens?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cutting from a local English newspaper of the 2003 summer solstice celebrations in Málaga.

 

Critiques I have received.

23rd night, 2004

My above description of the rite of the summer solstice constituted an impression gleaned over years of living in Málaga. Reluctant to attend the ritual as a mere spectator, without participating in the symbolic acts, I had never ventured forth towards the shore on this meaningful eve of the year. Mea culpa. But tonight I witnessed for the first time the Festival of St John on the beaches of Málaga city, just a furlong from my home. Approaching the beach, loud music emanating from powerful loudspeakers could be heard. Songs with a beat, modern pop-culture music. Well, it was a pagan festival. But doubts were creeping into my mind. Just across from the beach a huge square area had been cleared and a big effigy erected, lit by red spotlights and surrounded by a large number of spectators leaning against the fencing.  And a little further down the sidewalk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a stage, fit for a rock-band - and some such kind of organisms occupied it. In other words, a party. Where was the solemnity, the plea, the fear in the eyes of the penitents? It seemed that the crowds were here for a spectacle, a night out, a diverting evening. A poor excuse for a beach party.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        

 

Descend the sidewalk and onto the beach itself. That's more like it, people gathered in groups on the sand, expectant for the arrival of the midnight hour. Some bathers already in the black waters. But very few bonfires. And no dolls. The rare fire was sustained with old wooden crates and bits of cardboard. And they were being used to bake sardines and meat on skewers. What about burning the evil spirits away from your homes? People, art thee all so unconcerned?

 

         Midnight. Fireworks from the pier. A great pyrotechnic display. The sky lit up with dazzling stars of fire. I must admit that their reflection in the night sea lent a good effect to the scene. More bathers in the water. Everyone absorbed in the show in the sky. One time I spotted two silhouettes in the water hugging. Ah, at last! A mother consoling her grief-stricken child. An act of confession and repentance, of admonition and forgiveness, of consolation and hope - hope of a new beginning, a clean start, a transformed soul. Then another burst of light from the smoking sky. The couple revealed itself to be a girl and a boy. A pair of midnight lovers enjoying the romantic moment. Satan has definitely lost his grip on people.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        

 

 

        Alas, it's nice to see the multitude of people crowded on the sands. Little children splashing carelessly in the shallows. Parents cautiously making their way toward the water. Young people gathered in groups like they do every Saturday night in the squares or in the pubs, yes, beer bottles plenty. The spirit of  a community come out to celebrate. Celebrate what?

I don't know where on the coast that picture in the newspaper was taken, but it wasn't on this beach. My beach was equipped with stalls selling drinks and fish. My beach had a rock stage and very few bonfires. Perhaps in some beach along the less developed coastline. Away from the modern luxuries of a city. Away from fireworks.

        I like fireworks, but we have those on New Year's, we have those during the fairs, we have those at inaugural events. I missed the point of this event. I shall have to seek further enlightenment from the locals. But one thing is certain,  if you ever want to share a barbecue on the beach in the middle of the night and enjoy a local tradition, remember the Night of San Juan. And don't worry about not having your own effigy to burn!

 

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© 2004 Bobby Motwani