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A Nineteenth-Century Thanksgiving

"Only one more day and then it will be the time to eat."

‘An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving’ (1881) is a short story by Louisa May Alcott telling the tale of a family Thanksgiving in New Hampshire in the 1820s. With ‘Gran’ma’ falling ill 20 miles away, preparing the holiday meal falls to Tilly and the rest of the seven-strong brood of farmer’s sons and daughters.

The girls’ efforts in the kitchen vary in success (the stuffing and plum pudding are a little beyond them) and a possible bear attack briefly interrupts proceedings, but all is done, as you’d imagine, with the appropriate familial spirit and gratitude.

Here are some details we learn about nineteenth-century Thanksgiving traditions:

The turkey isn’t the only one for whom Thanksgiving’s no fun

A pig has also been slaughtered for the occasion, but the girls can’t bring themselves to cook it: ‘"I couldn't do it. I loved that little pig, and cried when he was killed. I should feel as if I was roasting the baby," answered Tilly, glancing toward the buttery where piggy hung, looking so pink and pretty it certainly did seem cruel to eat him.’

Oranges are a fine Thanksgiving treat

The Bassett family has grown or reared most of their Thanksgiving food, but oranges ‘if they warn't too high’ are an especially acquired delicacy for the occasion.

The table is decorated with even more food

We are told: ‘nuts and apples at the corners gave an air, and the place of honor was left in the middle for the oranges yet to come.’

After the feasting come traditional games

The family play at ‘blind-man's bluff’, ‘hunt the slipper’ and ‘come, Philander’ once they’ve had their fill.

Festivities should end with kissing all around

‘Apples and cider, chat and singing, finished the evening, and after a grand kissing all round, the guests drove away in the clear moonlight which came out to cheer their long drive.’

Happy Thanksgiving from the Secret Victorianist! Do you know of any other nineteenth-century texts that touch on the holiday? Let me know – here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist.

Opera Review: Tosca, The Metropolitan Opera, New York City

Giacomo Puccini’s Tosca is based on an 1887 French play by Victorien Sardou and was first performed in Rome in the January of 1900.

Yet this opera favourite is intimately connected to its setting – the Rome of 1800. The city’s inhabitants wait to hear the outcome of the Battle of Marengo, while, against the background of various Roman monuments, political strife leads to a series of personal tragedies.

Unlike the Met’s Rigoletto, which I reviewed a few weeks ago for this blog, this Tosca is traditional in its appearance and costuming, as we journey from the Church of Sant’Andrea della Valle to the Palazzo Farnese and, ultimately, to the battlements of the Castel Sant’Angelo.

Act II of the Met's production

This season sees a rotating cast of 9 taking on the opera’s lead characters. I saw Ukrainian soprano Liudmyla Monastyrska in the title role, with Italian tenor Roberto Aronica as Cavaradossi and Italian baritone Marco Vratogna as Scarpia.

Monastyrska is charming in Act One, as Tosca flirts with Cavaradossi and struggles to contain her unfounded jealousy, but really comes into her own in her scenes with Vratogna, as she tries to free her lover from torture and protect herself from Scarpia’s advances.

Rather than the steady descent into tragedy that many operas follow, what I love about Tosca is how close we come to a happy ending. Even though we know that their escape will fail, in this production there was something so touching about the lovers’ reunion that you almost start believing with them.

What’s more, with Scarpia dead - the ‘bad guy’ defeated – Cavaradossi’s death, and then Tosca’s, feels unfair rather than unavoidable, provoking an emotional response much more similar to losses we might have experienced in our own lives.

The performance felt like a little slice of Rome over Thanksgiving weekend in New York City – filled with passion and dramatic in its staging, but still somehow relatable enough to be genuinely affecting.

What do you think the Secret Victorianist should see next? Let me know – here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist.