Pastime with Good Company: Five Ideas for the Holidays

Along with some thoughts on leisure and community

Preliminaries

Before letting Julian take over with his zesty article, pungent as spiced punch, I would just like to remind all readers that we have a Special Christmas Offer running until December 20th, namely:

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Now I hand the platform over to my son. — Dr. K

Pastime with Good Company

The holidays are coming soon! The season of Christ’s birth coincides with the darkest days of the year. The cold drives people to gather round the fire; college students wind their way home through congested airports; relatives install snow tires and make road trips for family re-unions; fathers take time off work, play with their children, revisit a hobby, and hopefully help their wives to make an abundance of good food.

These coming weeks are some of the most pristine times for leisure. Reflecting on the good times I had over Thanksgiving break, I also thought of how many good Catholic’s I’ve heard wondering about how to build a culture of leisure. Often with only vague ideas of where to look in the recovery of traditional festivities, many are unsure of where to start.

Recalling the article we featured on dancing, and the chord it struck, I wanted to offer some further suggestions and tips for recreating this Christmas—but this time a hint more practical.

Five activities initially came to mind—by no means an exhaustive list. But they offer an interesting place to start. One or more will probably be new to most readers. They are not always easy. But they are deeply worthwhile.

I shall begin with the easiest, and work my way up from there.

Which reader are you?

1. Reading Aloud

How do you read a book and spend time with friends? Well, you read a book aloud together. Not only does this make the reading of the book a shared, common good, it also is a helpful way to grasp an author’s idea simultaneously and discuss it.

Reading aloud is something of a lost art. To do it well one must have practiced projection, clarity of enunciation, and be familiar with the pronunciation of any peculiar, specialized, or foreign vocabulary in the text you are reading.

Happily, reading out loud is one of those things which is easily improved with practice. The only way to become a good aloud reader is to read out loud!

Growing up, my dad almost always read aloud to our family in the evenings. Books included Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, P.G. Wodehouse, E. Nesbit, and others. During my time in the monastery, I was put on the rota of brothers assigned to reading aloud during meals in the refectory. As St. Benedict stipulates in the Rule, only those with the ability to read well should be assigned to the task. But I didn’t read very well when I started. And many of the books we read were biographies with lots of French names in them. Italian I could do ok, Spanish less so, but I usually butchered the French. I still often do. But I’m a lot more comfortable reading aloud than I was.

So grab a handful of friends and find something you’d all like to read. I find that essays and short stories are best for such a group, since (unlike a full-length book) they can usually be read from start to finish in 30 minutes to an hour.

Some of my favorite adult read aloud books can be found in our Tradition and Sanity bookstore:

1. Tales from the Perilous Realm—beautiful poems and short stories by J.R.R. Tolkien.

2. The Liturgy, the Family, and the Crisis of Modernity—short essays on the topics suggested by the title.

3. Against the Tide—brief essays on a variety of philosophical topics, the state of the modern world, and current-ish events.

4. The Screwtape Letters—C.S. Lewis’ famous and imaginative letters between two demons.

5. Braiding Sweetgrass—Profound essays on nature, science, ecology, and our place in the natural world.

Take one of your favorite tomes off your shelf, invite a half-dozen friends over, and take turns reading essays or stories for an evening. You won’t regret it!

Which listener are you?

2. Listening to Music

As with reading together, listening to music together is also a forgotten pastime.

I like to call it a “listening session”—an opportunity to appreciate the finest music ever made (it is not, as it might sound at first, a module of the Synod on Synodality).

Much great music requires concentration to appreciate it even a little bit. And it also deserves discussion. What did you like or dislike? What feelings did the music evoke, and why? If there were words, how well were they set to music? Did the music bring out aspects of the words you would other wise have missed?

You’ll need a good stereo. See which of your friends has the best (or maybe you do), and invite them to listen to something they’ve never heard before. Do a little research on what you’re listening to: maybe read the Wikipedia page about it, note what sort of instruments are being used, and what the time period is.

Often, listening can be augmented by watching a filmed performance. Being able to see the musicians ads a lot of interest, and can make the music more accessible.

Here are some suggestions, based on listening sessions I’ve conducted with my friends:

• Monteverdi’s 1610 Vespers of the Blessed Virgin—a epic scale early baroque concert, here performed in the magnificent chapel of the Versailles palace and exquisitely produced by the BBC.

• The Red Book of Monserrat—a rousing collection of Medieval Spanish pilgrim music, performed in this concert by the masterful Jordi Savall.

• Pärt’s Passion of St John—a wild and beautiful modern composition that uses dissonance to showcase the light filled darkness of the passion account.

• Buxtehude’s Membra Jesu Nostri—a cycle of prayers to the Crucified Christ by St. Bernard, set to music by a master of the German baroque.

• Happy Birthday Harry—a lively and heart-meltingly beautiful collection of Music from the time of Henry VIII. The central song of this concert—“Pastime with Good Company”—is where this article’s title comes from, and is attributed to Henry VIII.

One suggestion: if you have a LP player (aka gramophone and phonograph), this can be an added attraction for the music listening session. Not only is it a fun, old-fashioned curiosity, there is something very satisfactory about seeing the record turn, seeing the needle progress through the various tracks. A good friend of our family, Jeremy Holmes, recently acquired a phonograph and shared Handel’s “Water Music” with me on it. It was a beautiful experience to sit and watch the disk turn, hear the crackle of the needle, and then the music—all produced before our eyes with a system we could more or less understand. These, and other insights which Jeremy shared deserve their own article, but suffice for now: a phonograph will at the very least be a curiosity to draw doubtful friends to the listening session!

Sometimes one feels like this when trying to sing. Evidently our forefathers did too, sometimes.

3. Music Making

We have progressed in difficulty through these various past-times: we now arrive at music making. This can take many forms, but unlike reading aloud is not easily mastered by everyone who puts their mind to it for an hour or two.

For many decades now, music making has been relegated to the professionals, and becomes yet one more subscription service that leeches our credit card every month. Once this was not so, however.

Live music at my wedding reception provided by my friends, many of whom are mostly self-taught.

Despite the fact that some people are gifted musically more than others, most people have some basic ability to sing. The most obvious holiday application of this is in Christmas Caroling. But let’s consider what other options there might be for making music together.

1. You could invite a musically inclined friend to give a miniature concert at your house.

2. You might learn to sing some songs from recordings, etc., and invite friends over to learn them.

3. You could invite a musically inclined friend over to teach you songs!

Lot’s of folk music is available online. Find what you like and sing it! Not sure what you like? Check out some playlists I’ve made (sea-songs, adventure songs, Irish instrumental, sad songs, etc.)

But since it is the season, Advent and Christmas caroling make a great and easy place to start. Where might I find good carols? You might be asking. Here’s one resource. But I’ve put my own collection of Carols—some well known, other less so. It’s a small selection—15 carols—but I hope to grow it in years to come! Download it and start learning them today.

Advent Carols suggested by Julian Kwasniewski

1.13MB ∙ PDF file

Download

15 various carols—some familiar, some probably new to you!

Download

If you’d like to listen to these carols to help with learning them, you can find many of them in this YouTube playlist.

If you want a fuller home collection, I’d highly recommend the “Our Lady of Mount Carmel Hymnal” Os Justi Press just released. It has most of the hymns above, and many more, along with chants, litanies, etc.—all printed large enough to easily read, all with beautiful harmonies and traditional lyrics.

Dancing at my wedding—waltzing, swing, and country dancing.

4. Dancing

In our previous article on dancing (in which we drew down Jansenistic fire and brimstone, but thankfully sanity prevailed), we promoted a very ordinary idea in the history of humanity: dancing is fun and you should, well (gasp!), dance!

Where to start, though? As a teenager, I learned primarily through a couple of older friends involved with Old Dominion Dance, a English Country Dance club based out of Omaha, Nebraska. With a great list of dances, where to find music for them, how to call and teach them, and videos of the dances being performed, the site is a treasure trove.

For example, this simple and very fun dance, the Gay Gordon, can be watched below: and there are only five simple moves to this dance (find them here).

And here’s a clip of country dancing with live music at Wyoming Catholic College (where the bulk of my dancing experience is from). What could be more wholesome? Such dances do exist!

On the topic of dancing and live music, I’m remined of the fact that one might as well throw in some other entertainment—like juggling!

Why not add an entertainment section to your dance—perform some skits, recite some poetry, juggle, magic tricks, etc—and sing some of the music you learned above. What’s stopping you?

As a final note, I’m not sure which is “harder,” dancing or singing. You don’t need much technical skill for dancing the way you might for playing the guitar, but the big barrier to dancing seems to be shyness and awkwardness—greater, perhaps, than the abashedness we moderns have at opening our mouths in song. I’m not sure what to say to this except “power through it”—just suck it up, dance awkwardly, and eventually you won’t be so hesitant. In fact, rather than judging newcomers you’ll be simply trying to encourage the less experienced to overcome their temerity. That’s always been my experience at dances with other people who knew more than I did. So don’t be afraid—go dance!

5. Fighting

My final, and unusual suggestion to the men reading this article is: organize a fight night over the holidays. Yes, you heard me correctly!

Boxing deserves a full apologia—but for this I’m not qualified. Not only do I have insufficient experience to really speak as a boxer, I also don’t have the space to fully defend it. But my argument, in short form, can be summed up as this: boxing hones important skills, is an outlet for the irascible appetite, builds brotherly virtues, and reminds the to-often sedentary men of today that they were created with an ability and therefore duty to fight.

Let’s break these down.

The first is fairly simple. The skills which boxing hones include coordination, ability to think critically in high stress and painful moments, and the very practical skill of how to take and give blows. You get hit sometimes. People get mugged. Sometimes you need to defend yourself or your family from an intruder. While not a sufficient course in self-defense per se, boxing exposes one to real physical conflict in a more painful way than many other martial arts training does. Being hit hard in the face is a shocking experience. I think its good to know what it feels like in a controlled environment so that when its not supposed to happen its not a new experience.

Secondly, fighting like boxing allows men to release some of their irascible energy—again in a controlled environment. There is a special energy which makes you want to hit things. It’s there for a reason: so you hit things. You just don’t want to do it randomly. Boxing is a good reminder that that masculine energy is there to be used, not ignored or suppressed. But used in the right way—for self-defense against aggressors, and in a more subdued way in healthy competition.

And you have to practice both of those things. Which segues into the fourth element: building virtue. Among other things, boxing makes one practice fighting without leaving hard feelings—before a round you shake their hand; after a round, you give your opponent a big bear-hug. No hard feelings on either side—but intense competition for the duration of the fight. So knowing how to win and loose gracefully is one aspect. Another virtue it cultivates is the virtue of “knowing when to stop.” Any boxing ref is closely watching to spot fouls, to make sure neither party gets injured. If he sees something, he immediately pauses the match. Stupid players don’t like being paused. Competent and virtuous ones are docile even in their fighting.

Finally, since men were made to fight, they should. I don’t mean they were only made to fight: I mean that our natural physical characteristics, hormone cocktails, and brain structure optimizes us to fight for our families—both human enemies and animal ones, whether food hunting or self-defense.

In a world where neither of these things happens regularly, we men need to be reminded that we were made for more than spread sheet analysis, YouTube, and cheep beer. We have muscles for building them—not letting them atrophy. We have testosterone for fighting the bad guys—not just watching porn. We have significantly sturdier skeletal structures than women for protecting the fairer sex—not just driving big pickup trucks. We have 5x thicker skin than women for taking blows—not just bleaching beneath fluorescent lights.

Men were made to fight and always have. And so they’ve always had practice fights—jousts, tournaments, etc. BBB. Bring back boxing. And BYOB for afterwards.

Practically, what should this look like? It should be a male-only gathering. You’ll need to find one or two fellows with some practical knowledge of boxing technique to referee. And you’ll need mouthguards, gloves, and hand wraps (presumably your ref knows how to wrap hands correctly) if not some wrestling mats as well. Maybe build a bonfire.

Teenage service volunteers boxing during World War II (source).

I recently attended a “fight night” some of the guys at Wyoming Catholic College put on (disclaimer: this was not a College sponsored event, but continuing a grassroots tradition among the male student body). It was great. Four or five cars were parked in a circle on a gravel parking lot, their headlights illuminating the “ring”. Six or seven pairs of boxers competed; a ref carefully monitored every move; a couple more guys ensured people’s hands were wrapped properly. Some were experienced boxers, for others it was their first time. Probably fifty more gentlemen stood in a tight circle, many of them smoking pipes.

The cold winter air mingled with steam rising from the shirtless backs of the pugilists. Above, stars twinkled in the deep Wyoming sky. Dust, tobacco smoke, and steamy breathing wafted around us. One of the men was lagging; he was taking more than his fair share of blows. Different men are yelling for their favorite: “Go, go, GO!” “Get him!” “Use your arm length!” “Defend your face.” Someone started reciting the Houseman poem all the students learn freshman year—

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

(...)

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup. 

from To an Athlete Dying Young

Soon the verses were taken up, and the ground shook as they shouted “And hold to the low lintel up / The still-defended challenge-cup.” The looser rallied…he steadied…he fought back. He won. Thankfully no athletes died in the process. But there were some pretty righteous bloody noses.

Conclusion

From reading aloud with them to punching your friends, I hope you’ll find at least some of these suggestions helpful. Now is the time to bring in the boar’s head as an act of praise, as the “Boars Head Carol” puts it:

Caput apri defero,
Reddens laudes Domino.

It it time to rejoice in music and dance (dozens of scriptural references could be produced), and maybe ev en hold festive boxing matches as the Greeks did in their games, or the Medieval jousts might have celebrated feast-days.

Read, listen, sing, dance, and…fight well this Yuletide!

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