Among the Celts, the year was divided into 2 parts: the light season and the dark season, with Samhain serving as the transition between the two.
Unlike us moderns, for the Celts the new year didn’t begin in mid-winter or even in spring, but in November when night stretched on. This notion seemed to be projected into everyday life, with the new day beginning not at midnight, but at dusk.
Sommaire
Samonios is the name of the month of November for the Celts, not of the festival!
Indeed, to refer to the festival celebrating the arrival of November, we could speak of Samhain (which, incidentally, is pronounced Sa-Ween and not Sa-mein in Gaelic).
For the sake of argument, the most likely etymology of ‘Sa-Mein’ is that it derives from the Gaulish word “Samani” (Assembly), closely related to the Latin “Semel” (Semblable/Ressemblance) and the Germanic “Samana” (Assembly too). The Italo-Celtic common ancestor of Latin and Gaul confirms this hypothesis.
Better still, this logic would fit with the assembly of Tara, an assembly held in Ireland at this time of year, and which was the last meeting of the year. (Sam – Fhuin) or the assembly at the end.
Why so much detail? Because ‘Sal in Italo-Celtic is pronounced “Sa-M” and not “Sa-W”. So it’s perfectly correct for a continental to say “Samain” and not “Saween”.
At first glance, our habit of placing the New Year on January 1st may lead us to take offence at this “apparent” lack of logic.
To understand this, we need to take note of two elements:
Each of these parts brings to nature, and therefore to man, a different way of life. The cyclical notion, found in all rural societies, is an expression of a people’s blade/tradition and its anchorage in reality.
Thus, for the French of yesteryear, Gaulish-Celtic, Ger- mains-Francs… it seems appropriate to place the start of the new year at the moment when the cold days arrive. The same logic is said to have applied to the way they conceived the day: the day began not at midnight, but when the first stars appeared, and ended at dusk.
As you can see, their concept of time is based on the seasons, not on a fixed measurement like our clocks and watches.
Far from the gloomy, morbid period we now associate with the night of October 31, the three nights of Samonios have more of a “supernatural”, spiritual aura.
There’s a big difference!
Legends associated with the Irish Samhain tell us that during these three days, the barriers of the underworld (the otherworld, the dimension of spirits) become thinner, and apparitions can take place, passages between the worlds of the living and the dead…
To ward off evil spirits, baskets of food are placed in front of doors (the threshold of the house is of capital importance, symbolizing protection and entry into the private sphere, and is often the site of magical symbols of protection or sacred relics), and children dress up as evil spirits…
But while the dimension of inter-worlds, ethereal passages and spirits of the dead may also have been present in the three nights of Gallic Samonios, it was probably not the focus of this event, which gained its veneer of fright in the heart of post-medieval Christian Ireland.
Samonios is timelessly a time of year when the pace of life slows down in preparation for winter. The shorter days encouraged us to live more indoors, where crafts and social activities were practiced: sewing, knitting, canning, storytelling, music, handicrafts, games…
A time of rest, thought and meditation. Nature dying outside revives our imagination, reminding us of the existence of forces beyond ourselves. In fact, it’s one of the busiest times of the year for old people to die, even today.
even today. This aspect must have contributed greatly to the deleterious aspect of November, in parallel with the extinction of nature.
Samonios is therefore a “fragile” period, between two worlds. It marks the beginning and end of the year, and the arrival of the dark days from which we’ll emerge victorious in spring. In fact, these three nights don’t really belong to one year any more than the next.
They’re timeless.
To conclude this blog on the Celtic New Year after several historical and cultural explanations of this festival. We’d like to finish with a few more fantastic anecdotes and/or explanations of how the Celts of a bygone era celebrated Samonios.
On the eve of Samonios, a fire ceremony is said to have been held. In pre-medieval Celtic society, it is likely that the Druids offered everyone a few embers from a sacred fire, fuelled by white oak, which people were then required to take home to rekindle their own hearths. This aspect of the fire is particularly important at this time, and it is customary to keep the embers alive until spring.
Linked to the legend of the otherworld and what may come from it, it’s customary to leave a few offerings on the doorstep or in the window, accompanied by a candle in the evening.
This was the special moment chosen, it is said, to bring together allies, families and friendly clans, as well as to resolve differences between members of the same lineage or community. We discussed the mistakes we’d made, and what we wanted to put in place to repair or improve a situation.
Brittany, strong in terms of heritage and culture, retains vivid traces of the feast of Samonios/Samhain, which was celebrated until 835 as the night when the living gain access to the realms of the shadows. It was then Christianized to become All Saints’ Day.
Certain beliefs remained long afterwards. These included avoiding sweeping in front of doors, which could scare away visiting souls and send them packing. Or to avoid leaving horses outside that night, lest the ghosts make them gallop all night and exhaust them.