Guy Fawkes Day (Week?)

I thought I had a vague idea what to expect for Guy Fawkes day. I've seen V for Vendetta, and if bad American re-makes of foreign works don't prepare us for the surprises of international travel, then I don't know what will.

For those of you who don't know, Guy Fawkes was an anarchist whose failed plot to blow up Parliament is commemorated Nov. 5th. (Remember, remember the fifth of November?) Now, maybe it's my Pitzer education rearing its head here, but I sort of assumed the commemoration was for Fawkes' bravery in resisting tyrannical government. I was surprised and excited by how many Brits seemed to honor anarchists.

Not so much, though. Turns out that they are actually celebrating the defeat of the anarchists. Whoops. That was a little embarrassing. But, no matter where your political sensibilities lie, bonfires and fireworks are something we can all appreciate, right? I assumed this would be like the Fourth of July, except way better.

And it was, for about three minutes. Americans celebrate the Fourth with fireworks in moderation. The city puts on one big show, which lasts about an hour and then fades into (expensive) obscurity. Sometimes the neighbors have a few odd rockets, but for the most part the excitement is limited. Not so in England. There have been fireworks here for days, above and beyond Nov. 5th. And since they don't appear to be organized by municipal government or otherwise (there's the anarchy!) they are everywhere and constant.

And I do mean constant. For a while there, I was hearing fireworks every one to two seconds. Multiple nights in a row. My room is on the eighth floor, with an unobstructed view of London, so I was privy to constant flashes of light as well. I am sure most of you are by now thinking, 'How can anyone possibly tire of fireworks'? To them I say, just try and read Eliot with loud banging interrupting you every two seconds. I defy you not to go insane and kill a local teenager out of a desperate desire for peace. Really.