Easter is the most important holy day (or holi-day) in Christianity, commemorating the resurrection of Christ after his crucifixion. In my Catholic schooling in the 1950s, it was the end of a drama that began four weeks before with the beginning of Lent, with the liturgy supplying the events and observances between.
As for the timing of the observance and even the name, the early Church superimposed it on the Saxon festival to the goddess of spring, whose name was Eostre. Some theorize that persecuted Christians celebrating their holy day at the same time as Eostre made them less conspicuous.
In any case, most of the other familiar elements of Easter echo the fertility rites and symbolism of the original holiday, like the rabbits (as in “breeding like,” the hare was the animal associated with the goddess Eostre in Saxon lore) and eggs (an ancient custom of exchanging actual eggs turned to chocolate in the nineteenth century.)
Some Easter eggs are worth more than others, like the gold and diamond décor of the Faberge egg, or the decorated eggs in Germany inscribed with a child’s date of birth, which functioned legally as a birth certificate in the 1880s.
My Italian grandparents had various Easter traditions involving pastries and baked goods, but for the first time this Easter I had a Hot Cross bun, courtesy of our local Quaker meeting, of which Margaret is a member. This bun tradition goes back to the Saxon feast of Eostre. When the Catholic Church absorbed it, the bun indeed carried the design of a cross.
Because of this year's calendar, Easter was celebrated just one day before another spring holiday.
April Fool's Day
April Fool’s Day is always April 1, and that's a key to its specific origins. It has roots in many cultures that reach as far back as history goes, and probably farther. Part of its complex pedigree is a meaningful relationship to the American Bill of Rights. But most directly, it's about New Years.
The historical roots of the day include ancient
festivals of spring which often had some component of comedy, trickery and
release from ordinary rules, which in the western world at least usually
included orgies of gluttony, drunkenness and sexual licentiousness.
The probable direct ancestor of April Fool's Day is more specific—when France adopted the Gregorian calendar in the sixteenth century, New Year's moved from April 1 to January 1. But old habits are hard to break, especially if they began in 45 B.C., when Julius Caesar set up the old Julian calendar. Some gullible Parisians were tricked by clever neighbors into celebrating New Year's on what was now the wrong day.
Out of this was born the classic cry, April
Fish! Which is something that
did not cross the Atlantic when the calendar was later changed in America. No
one is quite sure what the fish thing is about, but the day is still celebrated that way in France. Still, the first April Fool's
Day jest was probably, "Happy New Year!"
But the more important aspect of this history
relates to the tradition of the licensed fool. For centuries, most European and
some Asian countries had them, popularly known as court jesters. From imperial
Rome through the medieval period and the Renaissance, official fools were not
only a popular and well known presence in royal courts, but for part of that
time were also employed by cities, clergy and wealthy families.
Their duties ranged from song and dance to
pratfalls and acrobatics, ribaldry and general foolishness. At times no
fashionable dinner party was complete without a fool hired to insult the
guests. But the key element of the "allowed fool" was his (and
occasionally, her) freedom to do and especially to say anything to anyone.
When kings hired permanent court jesters, political satire as well as pointed personal remarks were part of their repertoire, and the tradition of immunity came with them. Archibald Armstrong, one of England's last and most political jesters replied, "No one has ever heard of a fool being hanged for talking, but many dukes have been beheaded for their insolence." So it happened that the only people in Europe with the absolute right of free speech were kings and queens, and fools.
This fact was not lost on others who were agitating for that kind of freedom for all. The original document of the Magna Carta, England's first great challenge to absolute royal power in 1215, was decorated with the figure of a court jester. From the late 15th century until well into the 17th, "societies of fools" flourished in France, composed of young men who criticized the government and agitated for freedom while wearing the traditional court jester motley.
America never had court jesters, though some of its first expressions of freedom and identity were in the foolery tradition, from the burlesque of the Boston Tea Party (a bunch of Anglos badly costumed as Indians who struck a blow for political independence by dumping tea into cold water) to some early symbols such as Yankee Doodle and Uncle Sam.
"Yankee" was a British ethnic slur which New Englanders turned into a badge of honor, and Yankee Doodle Dandy was a clown figure (what else can you say about a guy who sticks a feather in his cap and calls it macaroni?) made immortal in the song sung at key moments in the American Revolution, including at the British surrender. A similar figure, a Yankee "wise fool" stock character popular in early American stage comedies, was a source for Uncle Sam.
Americans also pride themselves on being
straightforward, so there's a companion tradition of mistrusting the tricky. But
today our Zeitgeist depends so heavily on some forms of deceit--spin,
disinformation, oversimplifying and the straight-faced lie--that selectively
moralizing about other forms rings hollow. Injustice wears clothes of obscurant nomenclature, and success by any means
necessary is our guiding morality. Mendacity is a trick of power.
The heart of the fool's relation to free speech
is speaking truth to power. For awhile we may have thought that serious
journalism was going to do that, but when the most powerful owns
the most presses, and the line between editorial and advertising becomes more
and more imaginary, it's looking like a piquant hope.
The rich and powerful can easily ridicule the
countrified (the original meaning of "clown") and unsophisticated,
but the figure of the fool deflects the ridicule back upon the pretentious and
corrupt. Freedom to criticize the powerful is at the heart of both the fool
tradition and free speech.
The pretensions of power are automatic, perhaps
the inevitable product of consciousness equipped with opposable thumbs. Our
particular social systems depend on some forms of deceit while moralizing about
others. Historians are dishonored for missing quotation marks, but not if the
history they write is dishonest bunk. Paradox or irony shade into hypocrisy as we deny freedoms
in the name of protecting freedom.
Today April Fool's Day is just about our only
nod to this tradition. You can play tricks on people any day of the year, but
the idea is that on this day, you are allowed to. But since most of today’s jokes will be made online, it
looks pretty much like every day on the Internet, where intentional
misinformation is standard. This is the scarier side of information without
authority, and often without conscience.
Since laughter seems to override anger, wit is
often its own protection, at least temporarily. The cosmos itself seems
designed with persistent uncertainties, which is perhaps why many religious and
cultural traditions make the trickster a major myth.
Historically and perhaps in practice, the
freedom of the fool makes way for freedom of speech in all its aspects. Humor
often seems to make the truth clearer and perhaps easier to acknowledge. We
have to be tricked into seeing what we would rather not see. We can have
tricksters without truth, and in our entertainment-dominated society we mostly
do. But rarely can we fallible humans have truth without tricksters.