by David D. Horowitz.
“All of life is tension and release.” So remarked a customer to me about fifty years ago when I worked in a U District café as an espresso machine operator to help pay my expenses as a University of Washington student.
Say “tension and release,” and many people will think: sex. Wild sex, bacchanalian ecstasy, unbridled release—from stressful jobs, loveless marriages, periods of celibacy, spontaneity-killing routines and responsibilities—and some of that release seems to occur during mid-to-late-winter holidays, such as during Ancient Rome’s “Lupercalia” and the more recent “Mardi Gras.”
Lupercalia, occurring annually on February 15th, featured not only fervent displays of Roman patriotism but public fertility rites, matchmaking, and random copulation. This seems natural enough. When winter begins to wane and blossoms begin to emerge, people more readily participate in nature’s timeless death-and-rebirth cycle. We share some of the hunger of lions, tigers, bears, goats, and wolves. Indeed, the term “Lupercal” is based on the Latin word “lupus,” meaning “wolf” and which in this context refers to Rome’s founders, Romulus and Remus, being suckled by a wolf.
While Valentine’s Day and Mardi Gras are more linked to Catholicism than reverence for Ancient Roman rituals, heroes, and gods, they bear Lupercalia’s amatory imprint. Some other modern springtime rituals seem related to Lupercalia, such as college students’ Spring Break pilgrimage to Florida. And while baseball’s spring training is not overtly about fertility and coupling, it nevertheless suggests the return of warmer, sunnier weather; hope; and shared civic loyalty and passion. Even early political primary season suggests heightening public passion, of voters feeling freer to sloganeer and campaign and shout their hope for victory. Political passions can certainly be intense, feral—providing release from rising tension or, if overly influenced by demagogues, a sect for those who relish insult and vengeance.
So, tension and release are as natural as breathing or talking or walking in a park after a long, cold winter. February shows us freezing and thawing. And spring… yes, passionate sex and blossoming love.