In his excellent series on world religions, ‘Living with the Gods’, Neil McGregor reminds us that participation in a festival binds us into a recognition of past, present and future. It’s a phrase that got me thinking. In some ways, I feel that everyday living is about past, present and future, but I recognise that sometimes we live for the present and need a reminder of the importance of the long-term view. In this, I appreciate the way in which he conflates past and future. I love a good festival and this year I have been lucky enough to participate in two, very special, events: Up Helly Aa and the Lewes Bonfire Celebration. Of course, I was not an actual ‘player’, in both cases the right to dress up and join the parade is a privilege accorded after years of support. But, in addition to watching, I was able, in both cases, to attend local events: one of the Halls in Shetland; and a family ‘Open House’ through the evening in Lewes. In this way, I became one of those who celebrated.

I had a wonderful time in both places, but the experience was deeper than having fun. Unexpected emotions came to the fore and still linger. Both events are strongly rooted in the past, but not quite in the ways you might imagine. Both events challenge our sense of ourselves and our position in the world.

In both places, the players include those who behave in ways that challenge contemporary social boundaries. They have, on occasion, been criticised for this. Yet, it is a common issue when people get together to party, wherever they are, and I don’t find it a problem. I’d be sorry to see all celebrations reduced to bland tableaux that conform to the political ideals of the day. Surely the point of events like this is that they provide an opportunity to defy established norms and mock the institutions of power. In doing so they give people a voice, but, perhaps more importantly, they force us to address our preconceptions and beliefs. In this way, they make us look to the future. What sort of world have we created, what sort of world do we want to inhabit?

Often, the events remembered are actually quite difficult. I’m not sure that the local communities of northern Britain would have reacted with quite such merriment on seeing the approaching fires of Norse marauders in the tenth century. The religious prosecutions of the sixteenth century (and many other centuries), were not a happy time. Even the birth of a baby in Judea over two thousand years ago came at a time of political duress. As much as anything, we commemorate our ability to come through hardship and pain. The celebrations mark freedom and strength.

In both places, the festivities are actually more recent than the centuries they portray, though this is not a criticism either. Celebrations come and go, they may lose popularity before being re-invented and even reshaped for a modern world, that re-invention is one of the threads that ties them back to the past.

At this time of year, when so many are caught up into the days of celebrating Christmas and New Year we should not need to be reminded of the ways in which the festivities mean so many different things to different people, and indeed of the way in which they have changed down the years. Whether we go with the overall flow, or invent our own little rituals, we can all remember very different Christmases in years gone by. Whether we worship specific gods in specific places, or just try to do right by the world, we still want to be a part of it.

Festivals like this bring us together. We might be challenged by the actions of other people. We might be sceptical about the authenticity of the detail. We might be doubtful about historicity. We might not even have the wherewithal to join in fully. That is all good. It makes us think: to reassess our place in the world today; to appreciate our communities; value the past; and move with confidence into the future.

I woke to a panel discussion on Radio Scotland the other day regarding the current popularity of archaeology. It was nice to hear them praise the recent Orkney television series, but what really interested me was the link they made between living in uncertain times and the need to reinforce ideas of heritage.

At the end of January I travelled to Shetland to watch the annual Up Helly Aa fire festival. It was an amazing experience, and quite apart from letting my hair down, it got me thinking.

Up Helly Aa is possibly the most important date in the Shetland annual calendar. A local bank holiday, with a language and rituals all of its own. The protocol is important, and it is primarily enacted for islanders, though everyone goes out of their way to make sure that visitors have a good time. As a visitor, it is important to learn the ropes before the event takes place; there is plenty of advice regarding where to get food, what to wear and so on. Even, how not to offend your prospective dancing partners!

The core of the day harks back to Shetland’s Norse heritage as the Guiser Jarl, his Jarl Squad and galley, take over the town. Everywhere you look people are sporting helmets (with and without horns) and the schools and visitor centres use the opportunity to provide a crash course in the Vikings. But this is a recent festival with origins no further back than the early nineteenth century and the raucous Christmas and New Year celebrations at the time. Over time, the date has been shifted to the last Tuesday in January, the name Up Helly Aa introduced, and a general Viking theme adopted. Other disguises and acts are also incorporated as the festivities progress into the night.

This is a carefully curated and stage managed tradition. In Lerwick (the original Up Helly Aa) the protagonists are all men, though elsewhere across Shetland women join in and South Mainland even boasted a female Guiser Jarl in 2015. Yet, for all that, it is still a tradition. Judging by the events of 2017 it has a healthy and happy future for many years to come.

Shetland certainly had an important role as part of the Norse world. Viking sites are to be found all over the islands, from evocative homesteads, to semi-industrial soapstone quarries, merchants’ houses, and even the portage site at Mavis Grind. Those who participate in Up Helly Aa are choosing to reflect on those times and their importance in creating the islands of today. Does it matter that the tradition is a modern creation? There is, in fact, an interesting component of political satire, personal stereo-typing and cross dressing, which serves to keep activities well rooted in the twenty-first century. This is no romantic misty-eyed dreaming of the past. It is as up to date as any of us could hope to be.

Why do it?

Do we need a reason? It is certainly the most fun one can get in northern latitudes on a cold wet day in the middle of winter. Not only do you have fun – you can be someone else for the day.

At one level, it reinforces something that one does not have to spend long in Shetland at any time of year to experience. The expression of an identity that has little to do with mainland (or mainstream) Britain. These islands are nearer to Norway than they are to London and until the mid-fifteenth century they were part of the Danish kingdom. There is much in Shetland today that reminds one that the political origins here were Scandinavian.

At another level, we could return to my original question. Does the current popularity of Up Helly Aa, and the preponderance of knitted Viking Helmets in town, reflect the use of the happy security of times past in order to bolster morale in the uncertain days of the present? It seems counter-intuitive to use a period like the world of the Norse to provide emotional security. This was a time when people often lived in fear: a sail on the horizon could mean the arrival of a slaving ship; violent death was common; food supplies could be uncertain; and political unrest on a scale we have yet to experience in the UK today coloured the contemporary accounts of the time.

But, with that as the backdrop, life went on. Farms were farmed, fishermen fished, traders traded, and children grew into adults. Up Helly Aa may remind us of the daring-do, but within that we can hold on to ordinary life.

I have no doubt that Up Helly Aa will continue, troubled times or not, for many years to come. Ironically, the only cancellations have taken place during actual times of war and with the death of Queen Victoria. It is, for me, primarily a reinforcement of current identity. It is not meant to be authentically Norse, and who cares if the archaeological detail may, on occasion, be hazy. We all create our own pasts. This may be one of the most blatant and public expressions of the creation of the past, but it is by no means the only one. In a world that sometimes seems increasingly anodyne and uniform, such diversity is to be welcomed and nurtured.