CARNIVAL: Fun or Farce?

Byron Lee was not the first to start carnival in Jamaica. Caribbean students at the University of the West Indies, Mona campus, held a carnival before 1990. There was also the Orange Carnival, organized by a group of Jamaicans. All these events mirrored carnival in Trinidad.

Despite being the first in the English-speaking Caribbean, carnival did not originate in Trinidad. There is no evidence of the festival prior to 1783, when the French-speaking planter immigrants and their African slaves arrived. Carnival finds its roots in Roman Catholicism and can be traced to the 12th century in France.

Then, it was called “The Feast of Fools”, and celebrated by junior priests who used the occasion “to make fun of traditional symbols and invent their own ludicrous symbols”. Fun characterized carnival then, as it does now.

Etymologically, carnival is believed to have come from two Latin words – carnus and vale – meaning, “good-bye or farewell to flesh.” It does seem apparent that both history and etymology concur that the essence of the festival is a fling of the flesh. Another word often associated with carnival is bacchanal – from Bacchus, a Roman and Greek mythical deity representing life and revelry. The term introduces the idea of revelry and drunkenness.

Masquerading is another feature in contemporary carnival celebrations. A similar feature was evident in the 12th century celebrations of the “Feast of Fools”. Author, Ingvild Gilhus, used the term “reversals” to describe the “contrary behavior”. This is what Loyd Brown referred to as “the element of play-acting which finds its most natural symbol in the mask of the road marcher and in the masquerade of the carnival bands – a fleeting mobility on its participants.”

The parallels between the contemporary and 12th century carnivals are amazing. For instance, “The Feast of Fools” focused on releasing tension to create arousal in the participants. It was as though the energy which kept the religious system together was let loose. There was a movement from the orderly to the ludicrous, from form to lack of form. The truth is, the quest for fun today, is no different than what was sought in the 12th century. Then, the festivities were referred to as asinaria festa, the “Feast of Asses.” The festivities brought much emotional relief to participants.

According to Darryl Barrow (Caribbean Journal of Religious Studies), “There are many people who regard carnival as a good escape releaser. People have been experiencing stress, strain and certain inhibitions – carnival allows people to release their pent-up energies and desires.”

Interestingly, what Barrow sees as an asset in carnival, Ismith Khan, in The Obeah Man, sees as symptoms of deep-seated social malaise. There seems to be an underlying irony of the carnival spirit. Derek Walcott may well be alluding to this in his poem Mass Man. Here Walcott exposes carnival as a kind of sham behind which we may discover images of pain and despair.

Much of this pain is reflected in the music. For Byron Lee and the Dragonaires, songs like Ragga Ragga and Tiney Winey might be entertaining, but the messages of the songs cannot be ignored. Pain is too often trivialized in order to solicit laughter. In Trinidad, Ash Wednesday, the day following carnival, is no laughing matter. The abandoned costumes, piles of garbage and inebriated bodies, paint a picture of gloom, so unlike the laughter that prevailed hours earlier.

As a Trinidadian, I have spent much time analyzing the fun promised by carnival festivities. However, it is not enough to say that that fun is illusive. Christians need to rediscover the celebrative aspects of life. We need to revisit our understanding of “the abundant life” Jesus promised. The Bible breathes a spirit of joy that is so lacking in our behavior as Christians. Jesus embodied joy and the New Testament makes more references to joy than to all of sadness, weeping, mourning, anguish, anger and distress put together.

In the Old Testament, both mourning and dancing took physical form from the sways and rolls of lament to the joyful bursts of dance. The Psalmist echoes the relationship between joy and dance in proclaiming, “You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever” (Psa. 30:11-12).