I was made aware recently that I am considered, by some people at least, something of a cynic.
In the immediate sense I had to accept it (I had just been caught out monstrously second-guessing someone's intentions, and was willing to admit that I had been distrustful and a little unfair). I was, however, rather surprised that someone considered me cynical generally. I consider myself something of an optimist. I mean, hell, it's right up there in the blog's tagline.
I would like to take this opportunity to be optimistic, then. It's sort of a waste of time seeing as that's par for the course round here (admit it, I can nauseatingly emotional on this website), and seeing as the person who labelled me a cynic will never read this (it's my dad, and he's hardly at the bleeding edge on online communications). But being optimistic even when there's no reason to be is sort of the point isn't it? So I'd like to talk about an upcoming and much maligned saint's day, because I'll definitely forget closer to the time and I've been slacking off here since Christmas. Valentine's Day, step forward and receive my cheery blessing.
There are two sorts of ways to celebrate Valentine's Day. The first is to spend it in romantic observance with your significant other. Traditional methods include dinner, going to the movies or romantic trips away.
The second way to celebrate Valentine's Day is to begin talking well in advance about how you loathe and shun said festival. Traditional motives include the over-sentimentalisation or over-commercialism of the day, the cynical attempts to promote it in order to encourage media interest (romantic films and the like), or the way in which it stands opposed to people that are not in love, or otherwise involved romantically with anybody. Then on the night itself you get drunk and watch E4 and are rude to everyone you live with.
There is a tacit understanding that the first way trumps the second. You might talk the misanthropic talk in front of your mates, but if someone fit asks you out, it'll be a table for two and a romcom on your overdraft before you can spit (don't spit, it's uncouth).
(I feel compelled to admit that there is, as always, a third way: wherein you forget entirely about the day in question, and then either scramble madly to appease your frustrated partner, or spend the evening gently wondering why so many Reese Witherspoon films are on.)
It's fashionable to hate Valentine's Day and it's easy to see why. It is, to begin with, an easy target. Apart from the minor inconvenience of sharing its name with a Christian saint it is not a particularly religious festival, in fact the celebration of romantic (and therefore it is implicit: sexual) love might be seen as somewhat irreligious, given that most of the major denominations take a dim view of the old bump n' grind. Valentine's Day is not defended by political correctness or religious freedom and so is basically a free target.
There is also an argument about the forced celebration of romantic love. It's easy (and possibly correct) to suggest that in seeking to quantify something so nebulous but significant as love, one might somehow mar or diminish the significance of that concept. When one sees the oceans of semi-relevant and mawkish crap at every newsagent and motorway petrol station it's easy to feel overwhelmed and perhaps even a little icky at what many people consider to be the single greatest human emotion distilled to a saccharine bear with a heart glued to his torso, or a card with fucking Purple Ronnie going on about fucking willies in fucking badly done half-rhymes. (Seriously, I'm trying to remain upbeat here, but who isn't so over Purple Ronnie? What is that badly-drawn, Vimto-swigging public exhibitionist still doing in our lives?)
Also, well, it comes around once a year and everybody knows about it, so it's a prime subject for the occasional lazy columnist piece, the sort of T2 journalism that can get recycled every year and in which I in no way seek to emulate with Verbal Slapstick.*
Valentine's Day can make people miserable, and so I suppose I shouldn't be entirely dismissive of the negative attitudes towards it. I take the point. I've spent the occasional Valentine's Day bemoaning that I haven't got a wife, or a girlfriend, or even someone I basically dislike but can do the horizontal-Monster-Mash with on occasion.
But I'm trying to be optimistic here, and so I feel it necessary to suggest that we might be missing the point.
Firstly, well, it's in your face, and I appreciate that. But it's not as difficult to ignore as people make out. You don't have to stare at all the junk in the shops as you queue to buy fags. You don't have to watch any romantic crap at all on telly, just stick on Dave instead. You don't have to concentrate on how lonely you are, any more so than any other night of the week. The fact that so many people (mostly men, admittedly) who are happily in love forget about the big day until it's too late would suggest that it is possible to shuffle on in ignorance.
Secondly, well, I feel like we ought to celebrate love a little more than we do. Not to get all freaky-beatnik on you cats, but it does make the world go round, and we take little time to appreciate that. Love tends to get steamrollered by all the other little problems life spitefully hawks at you, so that even if you are in love, you might find that you don't treat it like you should. It's not a toy, or a garment to be lifted on and off. It's something that needs nurturing if it's not to die or simply fuck off elsewhere. It might be exhausting to treat every day like it's Valentine's, but if you sometimes feel like you could do with a bit more affection in your life, then why not make the most of it?
Thirdly... it doesn't have to be kissy kissy, cards and flowers and Eiffel Towers love. The fact that some people spend Valentine's Day with people they love in a non-romantic sense is generally derided. But that seems a little stupid. If you haven't got a romantic partner to take out, why wouldn't you spend Valentine's Day with your mum, or your gran who's on her own, or your best mate who's not got anything else to do? People might point out that Valentine's Day is dedicated to eros, romantic love. I would like to counter with the observation that there is no other publicly recognised day dedicated to the other sorts of love, philia, storge, agape etc. If Valentine's Day is the day for love it makes logical sense to make it about all love, everything that is worth celebrating about that particularly emotion. So it's not lame to go to the cinema with your best mate, or buy flowers and a card for you mother. It's practical, really, and a way of re-appropriating a festival from those who have taken it for financial gain.
And finally, if you hate it, love to hate it. There are a thousand anti-Valentine's parties you could be going to. Hell, there are as many horror films on telly as there are mushy ones, so it's not like there isn't an opportunity to relish being contrary. Use it like all festivals should be used: an opportunity to do something a bit different from the hum-drum, a celebration of something, anything, even if it's in bad grace.
And if someone you like calls and asks you out I won't even tell. I'll say we stayed in and watched Aliens, and that we forgot all about Valentine's Day, and that the whole thing is for n00bs anyway. But good luck, and I love you too.
*(PLEASE give me a job Mr. Murdock, I'll be ever so clever and ever so zeitgeisty I promise. I'll write about whatever you like, and I'll be all blokeish and sarcastic and vanilla and I won't say boo to my editors.)
