Blasted Valentine

On Monday the country is “celebrating” Valentines.

It is a sign of things that officially it should be Saint Valentine’s Day, as the saint who lent it his name has become buried under a man-made mountain of cards, cocoa solids, tawdry undergarments, heart-shaped iPod chargers and smirking cupid figurines.

Chaucer first ousted the idea of romance on that day by suggesting that birds would flirt and mate on that day. Although it was fairly quickly realised that this was not the case, the idea caught on and the likes of Shakespeare and John Donne mentioned the day.

Edmund Spenser, in his epic 1590 poem “The Faerie Queene”, is the first person to note that roses are red and violets are blue, although they were not put in a Valentine's rhyme for another 200 years.

At about this time an enterprising printer started to produce little poems for young gentlemen who wished to impress ladies with verse but was stuck for words. Other printers were producing cards with romantic sketches and words which were often sent anonymously. This emboldened the Victorian suitor to express the thoughts and desires he dare not mention in the drawing room

From these quaint little practices it was a short hop to the abomination that we have today with its over-priced flowers, ridiculous cards and pointless fluffy toys.

I cannot believe how many intelligent people, especially women, fall for this bagatelle of slushy tat and commercialised rubbish. All this is a result of successful marketing techniques which tells us that that romance is a gift of saucy knickers, chocolate and a fluffy bunny that squeaks “I love you” when you squeeze it.

I remember in my younger days sending cards to the girls I fancied and waiting in anticipation for the morning post to see how many cards I would receive. On the day you would hear excited voices speculating as to who sent cards to who. All a bit of harmless fun.

Nowadays, woe betides a husband or partner who fails to produce an over-priced bunch of roses or a garish box of chocolate on the day. All of the sudden, he is a heartless beast who doesn’t care, never mind the fact that they have just come back from a romantic holiday in the Maldives or that they always get mum in once a month to look after the kids while they go out for an intimate meal.

Love and romance is for life, not just Feb 14^th...