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The cheery, gap-toothed pumpkin you see on every doorstep conceals a dark history. According to the excellent Halloween by Lesley Bannatyne, we’ve inherited Jack from an Irish folktale about a man thought he could trick the devil.
Stingy and mean-spirited, Jack found himself face to face with Scratch, who told him his time on the earth was up. Jack requested one last drink at the local tavern, and Satan obliged – changing himself into a few coins in Jack’s purse to speed up the transaction and bring him on his way. But the devil found himself trapped by the cross that lay there among Jack’s belongings. In exchange for his freedom, the devil grudgingly granted Jack another year.
When the time passed, he confronted Jack again – and this time Jack’s last request was for the devil to climb up a tree and obtain a delicious apple. Jack whipped out his penknife and carved a cross on the trunk, again trapping the poor Prince of Lies. And this time, Jack’s bargain was to be left alone. When he finally died, Jack was refused admittance into heaven, but the devil couldn’t house him either. He sent him on his way through a dark and windy afterlife, with only a lantern carved out of a turnip and lit with a single ember from hell itself to guide him.
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A funny thing happened when the Irish came to the new world. They fell in love with these magnificent new world pumpkins, and substituted them for their turnip lanterns. And then the carvings of human faces became more elaborate. Jack became, in a curious way, trapped in his own lantern. Remember that as you trick or treat through a dozen country fields or suburban lawns this season. Because as you pass all those cheery, happy, well-lit faces, you might just hear one of them whisper your name as ask you:
Please. Please let me out.
Paul Bibeau blogs about horror folklore and posts his own scary, funny stories at www.goblinbooks.com.