Springtime in Madrid is absolutely fabulous. Practically every day is 70 degrees, sunny, and beautiful. It is the perfect time to venture out into one of the city's many public parks, stroll around its plazas, or engage in one of the numerous processions and festivals held on account of religious holidays.
As I mentioned in my previous letter, I recently went to Valencia for Las Fallas, a week-long celebration of the life of Saint Joseph. Las Fallas were quickly followed by Semana Santa, or Holy Week, which in turn proceeds the feast day of Saint Isidore, the patron saint of Madrid. While all three holidays are marked by age-old processions and other traditional activities, it seems as though the religious sentiment has slowly dissipated—although enthusiasm for the events remains strong. This is the paradox I wish to explore in this letter.
While Las Fallas is a religious holiday, the offerings to the Virgin Mary were often overshadowed by the novelty of the costumes and hairstyles of the participants, and the holiday is known more for its fireworks and the burning of the falleros than its faith-based origins. The main attractions of Valencia during this time are the falleros, or wood-and-wax constructed figures such as animals and humans—often nude, always satirical. Although entertaining, they nonetheless fail to allude to the religious aspects of the festivals. This sentiment is heightened by the obvious preoccupation with fireworks, both shows and pyrotechnics shops, which can be heard at all hours of the day, as opposed to individual piety.
In the midst of the madness, there are processions where the women of the city offer carnations to the Virgin Mary. As with hundreds of others, I crowded into the Plaza de la Virgen to view the giant floral arrangement and proceeded into the church. As with the others, the floral virgin was merely an object to be photographed with, and the visitation of the church was merely a brisk walk through its numerous chapels. While there were those who sat momentarily in the pews, the majority of the people went in and then out through the church. Although the place of worship was a fully functional one, more people scaled the steps of its tower to catch the beautiful view of the city than to participate in the services which it offered.
Although I missed Semana Santa in Madrid, as early as February, I had seen dozens of men practicing for the processions in the narrow alleyways near the Plaza Mayor. In retrospect, I have the same questions regarding Semana Santa as I do about Las Fallas. What is painfully apparent in Spain is the strength of its religious tradition. Although these festivals are celebrated just as fervently (if not more so) than ever before, one cannot help but feel that the actual religious sentiment has slowly dissipated from these holidays, replaced instead by a secular pride and appreciation for the nation's history. This seems to support the conclusion which I drew in my first letter, where I compared a centuries-old monastery to the growing dominance of commercialized globalization. Nonetheless, decreased religiosity has by no means compromised the significance of religion-based traditions in Madrid, nor in Spain as a whole.
While Las Fallas is a religious holiday, the offerings to the Virgin Mary were often overshadowed by the novelty of the costumes and hairstyles of the participants, and the holiday is known more for its fireworks and the burning of the falleros than its faith-based origins. The main attractions of Valencia during this time are the falleros, or wood-and-wax constructed figures such as animals and humans—often nude, always satirical. Although entertaining, they nonetheless fail to allude to the religious aspects of the festivals. This sentiment is heightened by the obvious preoccupation with fireworks, both shows and pyrotechnics shops, which can be heard at all hours of the day, as opposed to individual piety.
In the midst of the madness, there are processions where the women of the city offer carnations to the Virgin Mary. As with hundreds of others, I crowded into the Plaza de la Virgen to view the giant floral arrangement and proceeded into the church. As with the others, the floral virgin was merely an object to be photographed with, and the visitation of the church was merely a brisk walk through its numerous chapels. While there were those who sat momentarily in the pews, the majority of the people went in and then out through the church. Although the place of worship was a fully functional one, more people scaled the steps of its tower to catch the beautiful view of the city than to participate in the services which it offered.
Although I missed Semana Santa in Madrid, as early as February, I had seen dozens of men practicing for the processions in the narrow alleyways near the Plaza Mayor. In retrospect, I have the same questions regarding Semana Santa as I do about Las Fallas. What is painfully apparent in Spain is the strength of its religious tradition. Although these festivals are celebrated just as fervently (if not more so) than ever before, one cannot help but feel that the actual religious sentiment has slowly dissipated from these holidays, replaced instead by a secular pride and appreciation for the nation's history. This seems to support the conclusion which I drew in my first letter, where I compared a centuries-old monastery to the growing dominance of commercialized globalization. Nonetheless, decreased religiosity has by no means compromised the significance of religion-based traditions in Madrid, nor in Spain as a whole.
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