Remember, remember the Fifth of November

Today in 1605, Sir Thomas Knyvet, a justice of the peace, found Guy Fawkes in a cellar below the English Parliament building, involved in a plot to blow up Parliament itself. The day was later known as "Guy Fawkes Day" and served as an inspiration for Alan Moore and David Lloyd’s graphic novel, V for Vendetta.

Yes, today the folks across the pond remember, remember the fifth of November in honor of a sense of independence and a shaking of fists at British authority. While we reserve fireworks for summery July 4th, today is their excuse to blow things up and set things on fire. Really, every country should follow some such tradition of blowing things up in good spirits, but in light of recent world politics, let’s not go there. 

Or if we do, let’s wear an awesome mask while we’re at it.

Neil Gaiman, an ex-pat Brit, held an annual Guy Fawkes party at his home for many years. John M. Ford, Neil’s favorite writer and good friend, once decided to write directions to that party, with great wit and style.

While we must omit the verse that actually gives directions to Neil’s house, I see no reason the fifth of November (or John M. Ford) ever should be forgot:

AMERICAN GUY

(C’mon. You know the tune, whether or not you remember all the words.)

A long, long time ago

But it should be remembered

How it fell out on November five

Some nobles and a guy named Guy

Thought they’d make their oppressors fly

And there’d be revolution, by and by . . .

The commissary must have shivered

When all those herrings were delivered

Barrels in the basement

For Parliament’s effacement

It was a bold, quixotic dream

(Though some say Salisbury’s scheme)

Explosive treason was the theme

The day the fuse went out

They started singing:

Remember, remember, the fifth of November

It was a night full of gunpowder, treason and plot

I see no reason

Why a gunpowder treason

Ever, ever should be forgot

Ever, ever should be forgot

One day with Lord Monteagle’s bacon

A note says, bangers have been laid on

Take a powder, signed, A Friend

The sort of hint that starts you thinking

With leaks like this, we’ll soon be sinking

Knot the rope that marks the end

They thought rebellion had a chance

But no one got up for the dance

Guy bent but didn’t break

Until Salisbury’s stake

The bottom line could not be plainer

A round of trials and attainder

Divide by four with no remainder

The day the fuse went out

They started singing. . . .

I met a girl who fiddled fine

And she handed me some sparkling wine

(Outside, the champagne’s always chilled)

Upon the kindling, Guy stands straight

As annually he meets his fate

The host ignites the fire, we watch it build

And in the yard we take our stations

Awaiting the illuminations

Foggy conversations

Then colored conflagrations

And the words we most admire to say

Light Blue Touchpaper, Get Away

They’ll get a workout on the day

The night we light the fuse

And we’ll be singing. . . .

— John M. Ford

If you don’t like that music, you can try listening to Shadow Gallery, a band who took their name from V’s hideout. Shadow Gallery even has an album entitled Room V, after where V was kept at Larkhill.