Burning the Boogg

So here we are, on the cusp of the third Monday in April, eenly awaiting Zurich’s transformation into the set of a 18th Century pagent centered around an exploding snowman.

To the uninitiated, let me explain: the days is Sechselauten – or the striking of six – a Monday in April where Zurich abandons all claims to be multicultural business capital and slides blissfully back into the dressing up box of its past.

Grown men, insurance clerks probably or highly-paid hedge fund managers, dress up like extras from shapre, donn robs, wigs, tricorn hats, carry swords, spears and sticks, take to drums or brass instruments and generally carry on like its 1777. It is as if a historical drama came to town and forget to bring the film crew.

The concept if you will is based around the city’s 25 guilds and the mend are dressed as one or other them. As they walk through the Bahnhofstrasse and down to the Bellevue, their ladyfolk – remember we are in 1777 here – present them with flowers and get a peck on the check in turn.

In the meantime, and this is the part I have never really grasped, there is a procession around the Bellevue involving a visiting canton (invited up to Zurich to marvel at the wonderful costumes and generally be made to feel like the poor cousin). There are large animals, camels for instance and people dressed up like bears (JJ1 or Bruno was booked for 2006 until his untimely demise) and then, to cap it all, a huge bonfire (lovingly constructed by the parks department) with a snowman-like on the top… yep, a snowman. On a bonfire. This part relates not to 1777 necessarily but sometime a little earlier when Zurich’s hunters would head off after winter to slay the Böögg.

Now, you have to remember that we in Britain have had years of practice with bonfires – bonfire night on Nov 5th – the day on which we celebrate the failure (it could only be the Brits) the failure of the gunpoweder plot of 1605 in which guy fawkes, a confessed catholic, attempted to blow up the houses of parliament, allegedly. Since I am from Yorkshire, which is where Fawkes was from too, we don’t burn efigees of Guy Fawkes. Instead we just have fires and eat toffee apples…

As a result I am not as comfortable with the site of burning effigies as others might be… The Boogg rather gets my sympathies, particularly since the poor guy – no pun intended – is dragged through the streets and booed at and also has his head stuffed full of explosives in what strikes me as a particularly cruel attempt to create drama and excitement… he has even in recent years been subject to kidnap attempts…

The time taken for his head to explode is generally seen as a being an indication of the prospects for the summer in Zurich – the longer it takes the better the summer will be. I think. Recently, it has taken so little time that no one has had a moment to start the stop watch and record it… Apparently, it used to be a witch that burned so I suppose we should be glad that this practice has stopped…

I found this description: Suddenly the flames spring upward and the explosive-filled figure of the snow man ignites. White-robed horsemen gallop about the fire as firecrackers explode and parts of Boogg fly in all directions, amid a deafening roar of noise and confusion. Round and round the horsemen ride, forming a magic circle about Winter, to prevent his escape from the flames.The symbolic rite which has come down through the centuries from pagan times is one of Switzerland's many ceremonies to dramatize Winter's expulsion and universal joy in returning Spring.

Mainly though the day is remembered for being a half-day holiday and for the confusion that it creates in the minds of tourists many of whom cannot fathom how they stepped off the train into 1777.