I wanted to send this out in plenty of time for you to get ready and plan for an authentic Burns Supper on the 25th. Before I got burnt1 out and went into full on hermit mode, I had this lovely idea that I’d combine our second daughter’s first birthday (on the 21st) with a sort of all-in Scottish Style Burns Day celebration,2 but I’m now imagining a more laid-back affair - aka, me, alone, maybe with the birthday girl already asleep, possibly drinking a whisky toast in honor of surviving this year.
I first shared this essay in 2019, fresh off a magical jaunt to the Scottish Highlands (the photos in this essay are from that trip). I hope you enjoy - and if you’re feeling more social and lively than I am, by all means, celebrate!! Slainte!
Imagine this: You’ve put on your best tartan3 and lit all the candles on a long wooden table. A dozen or so of your friends are chatting and sneaking early tastes of the Scotch Whisky you’ve set out for toasts later on. You’ve hooked up your best speakers and you turn on a playlist of pipes, bagpipes, and drums. You’re ready for a festive Burns Supper.
This is a scene that plays out across Scotland4 on January 25th in honor of the legendary Scottish poet Robert Burns, born on that day in 1759. If you read this in a few months and January 25th has come and gone and you’ve missed a celebration of Burns Day, don’t fret. For a few years people mistakenly thought Burns was born on the 29th, and plenty of Scots say you can celebrate Burns Day ‘anytime.’ Originally started a few years after Burns’ death by a few close friends, the “Burns Day” tradition quickly grew thanks to the establishment of “Burns Clubs” and other groups devoted to preserving and celebrating the contributions of Scotland’s most beloved literary figure.
The celebrations of “Burns Suppers” can range from elaborate catered affairs with professional pipers to informal gatherings of friends in homes and at pubs. Yet, at least traditionally, they all share a few distinct traditions.
The evening will start with Scottish music, either live or recorded. Nothing starts a Scottish celebration like the triumphant sound of bagpipes and drums! The host will then welcome the guests and recite “Selkirk Grace,” known in Robert Burns’ time as “Galloway Grace.” It’s known now as “Selkirk Grace” because Burns is said to have delivered the speech at a dinner given by the Earl of Selkirk.
Selkirk Grace
“Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit.”
At a formal dinner, you’ll start with a soup course, something properly Scottish like Scotch Broth (barley broth, braised lamb, root vegetables, etc.) or cock-a-leekie (leeks and peppered chicken stock, sometimes with rice or barley).
Now, the main course for a proper Burns Supper is Haggis, the national dish of Scotland, a type of pudding composed of the liver, heart, and lungs of a sheep, minced and mixed with beef or mutton suet and oatmeal and seasoned with onion, cayenne pepper, and other spices. The mixture is packed into a sheep's stomach and boiled.
Maybe this doesn’t sound like your idea of a savory main course. I’m sure you’ll have Robert Burns turning over in his grave, but if you substitute in roast beef at your own Burns Day supper, you have my full support. (I’m a pretty adventurous eater and don’t necessarily have anything against trying haggis, though I admit I’ve never sought it out on any of my trips to Scotland…)
The true traditionalist and proper Scot will now recite Burns’ “Address to a Haggis” as the blessed meal is brought forth. Ideally a bagpiper will accompany the Haggis to the table.5 The host will enthusiastically stab into the meat at the line An' cut you up wi' ready slicht.
The First Stanza of “Address to a Haggis”
“Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o' a grace
As lang's my airm.”
Now the toasting can begin! Hopefully you’ve had a little bit of bread with your soup because the next half of the meal involves consuming a significant amount of ‘the water of life’ (whisky). The first toast is to the haggis you’re about to eat. I also imagine that for some of the guests it will act as ‘liquid courage’ as the haggis is generously served to each person.
When it’s time for coffee and desert, you’ve probably made a delightful Tipsy Laird Trifle. As everyone settles in, more speeches and toasts are given. Traditionally there will be a recitation of a song or poem by Burns and toast to his immortal memory.
A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns
My luve is like a red red rose
That’s newly sprung in june;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly play'd in tune;
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry;
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
After all this toasting, guests are probably feeling pretty relaxed. Now is the time for the Address to the Lassies, a short speech (usually prepared beforehand) given by a male guest detailing his views on women. It is meant to be amusing, not offensive, and if there are a few jabs in there, no worries, because the lassies are up net! The Reply to the Laddies follows, with a female guest expounding on her views on men. Slainte all around!
Now is the time for more recitation of poetry and perhaps some musical performances of Burns’ most famous songs, like Ae Fond Kiss.
After all this merriment comes to a close, the host will give a final thanks and everyone is asked to stand. Joining hands, all sing Auld Lang Syne and the evening comes to an end.
While undoubtedly charming, the celebration of Burns Suppers also reminds us of the importance of true festivity. While it’s easy to poke fun at some of the mock formality, these traditions give structure, meaning, and purpose to our lives. Real Celebration (and not the imitation celebrations we see so often now) require a spirit of serious levity, a belief that this is good and important because life is good and important!
So many celebrations today (think of Mardi Gras in modern-day New Orleans for instance or your average college night outing) quickly lose their source of meaning, devolving into blurred, drunken affairs, marked by destruction, chaos, and forgetfulness. The goal of many social gatherings today is to forget life, not celebrate it. I wonder, as we become a more and more pessimistic and nihilistic society, if we can truly celebrate if we no longer believe life is inherently good or worthwhile.
“On what grounds does a specific event become the occasion of our festival and celebration? Can we festively celebrate the birth of a child if we hold with Jean Paul Sartre’s dictum: ‘It is absurd that we are born’? Anyone who is seriously convinced that ‘our whole existence is something that would be better not being,’ and that consequently life is not worth living, can no more celebrate the birth of his child than any other birthday.”
- Josef Pieper, In Tune with the World: A Theory of Festivity
As attendees at a Burns Supper gleefully raise their Scotch for a toast, they are abiding by G.K. Chesterton’s wise philosophy of alcohol consumption: “Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable. Never drink when you are wretched without it, or you will be like the grey-faced gin-drinker in the slum; but drink when you would be happy without it, and you will be like the laughing peasant of Italy.” All too often we lose the taste for the good things in life because we’ve abused them or used them as crutches during sad, awkward, or dull situations. Chesterton was a large man of big appetites who didn’t spurn a cigar or a pint of beer. He enjoyed fully, joyfully, and in a spirit of festivity.
A spirit of festivity also requires a willingness to rest, an activity members of Western societies seem all but incapable of doing. If celebrations simply become another occasion for stress as we overwork ourselves with preparations and anxiety, we have already lost the essential element of leisure.
“Leisure is only possible when we are at one with ourselves. We tend to overwork as a means of self-escape, as a way of trying to justify our existence.”
- Josef Pieper, Leisure: The Basis of Culture
In the dark nights of January, how wonderful to think of candles being lit, fiddles being played, poetry being recited. My love for the Scottish Highlands undoubtedly has something to do with the landscape’s ability to dwarf me in wonder, to remind me of my smallness and instill in me an immense gratitude and awe in the world. A good Burns Night Supper can do this, too. Whether you are toasting with Scotch and bagpipes, or simply hosting a birthday party, the spirit of true celebration contradicts the spirit of the Age in its reckless affirmation of beauty, mirth, and joy.
Cheers and Slainte Mhath!
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For days of auld lang syne.
see what I did there
Made all the more appropriate as her ‘sleep song’ has always been Auld Lang Syne.
Because we all have multiple options when it comes to tartan in our closets, right? I mean, I do.
So, start learning the pipes now.
Such a fun read, Katie! My ancestors are Scottish and I have some similar photos of our trip there a few years ago, though I didn't know about Burns Day. I do have two thrifted (authentic) kilts in my closet, though, so perhaps I'll make do this year!
Also...haggis is truly delightful.
Yes, we really do it in Scotland! Well, not necessarily as elaborate as you outline here, but certainly at school we all memorised the first verse of the Address to a Haggis, and then someone who was willing and able would recite it at the school Burns Supper lunch - haggis, neeps n tatties (parsnips and potatoes).
In fact, my friend visiting from Scotland has brought a vegetarian haggis with her at my request - I’m not brave enough for a real one 🤣. I’ll serve it with potatoes and carrots probably, with cranachan for dessert (made with cream, oats, raspberries, honey, and whiskey if there are no kids partaking of it!)