From Necessity to Nicety, the Plight of Light

Shadows flickered and swayed in the firelight on the glistening cave walls as the hunched figure pondered the flare that lapped at the drippings from roasting meat on his stick. Unlike Leslie's piecrust that was consumed instantaneously, this burned longer and stronger and enlightened he became, literally.

Historians are not sure when the connection of oils and wicks for a better flame came to be harnessed or whose uncompensated efforts invented this portable torch that could have made him millions in royalties. The candle has been with us throughout time in many forms and for many uses from the fundamentally utilitarian to the occult rites of the mysterious. Just the other day, I was feeling a bit under the weather and a friend of mine offered to burn a candle for me. When we feel a need for a connection to a place, we light a flame that emits a scent to remind us, or for a dinner that we hope will lead to more enlightenment, if you will, we light yet another kind of candle. The flame of a fireplace is two fold, warmth for the physical and warmth for the soul, and to read by candlelight - well, it pretty much sucks, but the idea is nice.

Point is, that somewhere along the line, we evolved and the flame we needed to survive became the flame we romanticized, a waste of fuel. (Much like most of our gluttonous consumption here in the USA) Let's face it, burning fat on a stick is not our idea of a romantic dinner, I mean really, which piece are you supposed to eat?

Perhaps you have wondered why ceilings in great Roman architecture, gothic churches or medieval castles are so high? Now this is my personal theory, but the soot from tallow candles is black, thick and smoky, not to mention that the smell is enough to make your eyes water. Fill chandeliers with several dozen greasy sheep fat candles or oil lamps along the walls and you can just imagine the wonderful aromatic atmosphere that was created. The higher above the crowd this smoky lung choking mark of civility rose, the better. Refined tallow candles were white, odorless, and somewhat cleaner to burn, but the required processing made it unaffordable to all but kings and the wealthy. Most had to settle for a house that smelled like dinner was burning. Granted, it was better than the bonfire approach in the living room, but unsatisfied, superfluous illumination continued to be improved and refined.

The 15th century is credited with the discovery of beeswax and the use of it as a source of light. Why it took so long to figure this out, no one knows. Honeycombed beeswax, which is truly a wax and required less processing than cattle suet and burns clean and sweet. We have a winner here, but not enough bees. Blast! So, again the wealthy enjoyed this finer illumination, while the rest of us puttered with grease stains on our floors and black sooted ceilings from our good old tallow with a wick, which was a slight improvement from suet on a stick.

Our own contribution to the hunt for a better illuminating fuel was discovered in Colonial America. The sweet smelling bayberry, among other spurges, was waxy and could be harvested to feed the flame. Leave it to us to find a most tedious way to extract wax. Needless to say, the bayberry's popularity was short lived. Too much effort; not enough product and we are right back to the rich and poor issues.

Things basically stagnated for a century or two until whaling became more of a lust for profit than a necessity. (A tragic flaw of mankind, unfortunately repeated on many fronts) Mass production of whale oil became liquid gold. Soon the drippy, fat burning tallow candles gave way to fishy smelling oil lamps filled with boiled down whale blubber. Now is that a great trade off, or what? Special lamps were created to reduce the more offensive properties of this fuel and soon our dark streets became safer in the glow of the prolific whale oil lamps. Not to mention, the reduced fear of having a glob of flaming pitch fall from a street torch, setting your hair on fire.

Actually it was the sperm whale that gave us the best wax for our lighting needs. Spermaceti is a white solid wax separated from sperm whale oil which is still used in much of our candle making, soaps, lubricants, face creams and even hydrogenated - yes, I read it in the encyclopedia so it must be true - into edible fats. Yikes! That's a scary thought. Kind of gives new meaning to our most affectionate phrase "blubber butt" does it not? As whale populations dwindled, an alternative had to be found for our insatiable requirement for the lighting of a more civilized culture.

The 1850's introduced us to the fuel most of us can say we have actually used at one time or another on our many "get lost" adventures. Camping would not be the same without the familiar hissing glare of our kerosene lamps on our out door get-a-ways. It just isn't roughing it unless you have your lantern along; your steadfast companion on the midnight venture to find a latrine or that sacred felled log. As you see, the shift has been made complete by this time, from necessity to nicety. From the need for warmth and the fire to cook with, to the comfort of our little lit bubble of security where we only imagine what lurks beyond the reach of our meager beam.

Thank the gods for small favors next time you flip a switch before cursing because you have to change a burned out bulb. Smile when you light a candle for the fragrance of it, instead of the need for its miniscule flame to light your way on a moonless eve. Had we not found paraffin wax and sifted it from petroleum, would there be whales other than in a picture book? Or if good old Ben Franklin had attended shockaholics anonymous meetings instead of playing in lightening storms, would we still grope in the light of a flickering flame? Where would we be if Thomas Edison had said, "That's it! 1,599 tries to get this glass bulb to light and I just can't get this @#!*#!^~@ thing to work." ? I'd say we'd be right back where we started, sitting around a fire in a dreary cave somewhere, staring at the flames as they dwindle because of the lack of grease in our 98% fat free hamburgers.

Gail Boysen enLIGHTens us regularly from her home in snowy Florida. Stay tuned for more.