Swedish Midsommar

 June 19  Culture

In a meadow somewhere in Sweden, a tall flower-decked pole stands at the centre of a circle of dancers, and the sun shows no sign of setting. Midsommar, the great Swedish midsummer festival, is observed on a Friday close to the summer solstice — in this calendar anchored to the third Friday of June, though in practice the official Midsummer’s Eve always falls on the Friday between 19 and 25 June, so the exact date shifts a little from year to year. It is, for many Swedes, the most cherished day in the calendar after Christmas: a celebration of light, greenery and the brief, glorious northern summer, spent outdoors with family and friends.

Advertisement

Midsommar’s roots reach back into pre-Christian times, when the solstice marked a pivotal moment in the agricultural and natural year. In a land of extreme seasonal contrast, the long days of high summer were a cause for genuine rejoicing, and rituals connected to fertility, growth and the power of nature attached themselves to the season. The gathering of greenery and the raising of a decorated pole are thought to descend from these older fertility customs.

With Christianity, the festival was associated with the feast of John the Baptist, and Midsummer’s Eve corresponds to the eve of his Nativity. Yet in Sweden the religious overlay sits lightly. The day feels far more like a celebration of nature and the season than a saint’s feast, and many of its practices retain a frankly pagan character.

The midsommarstång, or midsummer pole, is the festival’s defining emblem, though its history is more tangled than its prominence suggests. The custom of raising a decorated pole appears to have arrived in Sweden from continental Europe, very possibly via Germany, during the medieval period. Over time it was thoroughly adopted and reshaped to suit the Swedish summer, wrapped in birch leaves and wildflowers because, unlike in warmer lands, ample greenery is freshly available at this point in the Nordic year.

For generations Midsommar was primarily a rural festival, but as Sweden urbanised it retained its hold, with city dwellers travelling to the countryside, to summer cottages and to the islands of the archipelago to keep it. In 1953 the celebration was formally fixed to a weekend, ensuring its eve always falls on a Friday.

Midsommar is bound up with Swedish identity in a way few other days are. It expresses a national love of nature, of the outdoors, and of the fleeting summer that rewards the patience of a long, dark winter. The festival is also a time of return and reunion, when families reassemble at country places and old friendships are renewed beneath the endless evening light.

The day’s rhythm is gentle and communal. The pole is raised and dressed with foliage and flowers, and people gather to dance around it. The best-loved of the dances is Små grodorna — “the little frogs” — in which dancers hop and mime frogs to a cheerful tune, to the delight of children and the amused tolerance of adults. A long lunch follows: pickled herring in many guises, boiled new potatoes with dill, soured cream and chives, often gravlax, and strawberries with cream to finish. Schnapps is poured and accompanied by snapsvisor, short drinking songs sung between glasses.

Flowers are everywhere. Young women and increasingly people of all ages weave crowns of wildflowers to wear, and there is an old piece of folklore that a girl who picks seven different flowers and places them beneath her pillow will dream of her future spouse. The greenery, the pole and the flower crowns together speak of fertility and the abundance of high summer. New potatoes and the first strawberries are themselves seasonal symbols, their arrival timed almost perfectly to the festival.

Sweden’s Midsommar belongs to a family of Nordic and Baltic solstice celebrations. Denmark and Norway light bonfires for Sankt Hans, Finland keeps Juhannus by lakeside fires, and the Baltic states hold their own vivid solstice festivals. Swedish emigrant communities, particularly in the American Midwest, carry the tradition abroad, raising poles and serving herring far from the northern light that gives the day its magic at home.

Midsummer is so significant that it has been proposed, half in earnest, as a candidate for Sweden’s national day. The festival is also famous for its weather: despite falling at the height of summer, Midsommar is notorious for rain, a quirk Swedes meet with stoic good humour. And the frog dance, now inseparable from the day, is set to a melody borrowed from a French military march.

Midsommar endures because it gathers everything Sweden treasures about its summer into a single luminous day: greenery and flowers, food and song, family and the open air, all under a sun that barely sleeps. It is a pause at the year’s brightest point, joyful and a little wistful, knowing that from here the light will slowly ebb — and so all the more reason to dance around the pole while it lasts.

Advertisement
Atlas
Written by Atlas

Writes vo.rs's calendar of special days and the stories of the people, places and curiosities behind them. Endlessly nosy about why we mark the dates we do, from solemn remembrances to gloriously silly food holidays, Atlas digs up the origins, the traditions and the odd fact worth repeating at dinner.