"It is said that if you scratch civilisation you find a savage. If you scratch the owner-occupier of a desirable semi-detached residence you will find a man who is unconsciously seeking something safe and familiar, something with roots deep in the forgotten past. He may call Morris dancers “quaint”, laugh at the idea of wassailing his apple trees and refuse to appear as St. George in a mummer's play, but he will still eat hot cross buns on Good Friday, hang up mistletoe at Christmas, and give a Halloween party. He will hesitate to walk under a ladder, and will look at at the weather forecast with more than ordinary interest on St. Swithin's Day.... If folk customs ever did die out there would be a loss of vigour, colour and diversity thaat an age of drab uniformity can ill afford "
From the introduction to A Year of Festivals by Geoffrey Palmer and Noel Lloyd, 1973.
I read recently that Christmas mumming died out because householders simply refused to open the door to them. Christmas had become domesticated and mummers were seen as old-fashioned and embarrassing. I don't know if this is true. It would be sad if it were.
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