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Kiss by Katie Barclay review – a history of passion, power and dumplings | history books

Kiss by Katie Barclay review – a history of passion, power and dumplings | history books

ICh, on a European holiday, you get nervous greeting people – should you kiss? how often? – Leave a Comment on Dutch theologian Desiderius Erasmus. Visiting England in 1499, he found a nation of enthusiastic kissers. “Wherever you go, you are welcomed with kisses by all hands; when you take leave you are dismissed with kisses,” he wrote in surprise, or possibly, alarm. On the Continent, the fashion to greet with a kiss on the lips had long since died out (perhaps due to sexual propriety), but the English persisted. It didn’t matter if the other person was of the opposite sex, everyone got offended.

Whether you like to snuggle, smooch, suck your face, or osculate (the scientific term), kissing feels so natural and effortless that it’s hard to imagine it has any history. But just as kissing is not seen across all cultures, its meaning has changed over time, writes historian of emotions Katie Barclay. From knights kissing the feet, to politicians kissing babies, to the “shut-up kiss” of Hollywood romcoms, this rich and fascinating history reminds us that kissing is, and always has been, a public gesture as well as a private pleasure.

Professor Barclay at Macquarie University in Sydney The story begins in medieval Europe Osculum PacisOr the kiss of peace. A kiss on the lips, usually shared between two powerful men, marks the conclusion (conclusive, if you like) of any legal or diplomatic negotiation. This ritual was based on medical beliefs, according to which, since breath carries the soul, a kiss on the lips allows two souls to meet and become one. For this reason, like worshipers in church, vassals and their lords also kissed lips in a ritual of allegiance. However, as the rich began to complain about having to lip sync with their servants, the churches introduced the pax, a ritual object that could be spun around and kissed instead.

Not all symbolic kisses were so egalitarian. Foot kissing, used for respect, can also be humiliating and humiliating. In 911, when the marauding Viking leader Rollo finalized a peace treaty with the Frankish king, he was instructed to kneel and kiss the king’s foot in loyalty. The fearful warrior, who would bow to no man, finally offered a proxy to give the important kiss. The Viking stand-in reportedly grabbed the king’s leg so hard that it bent him backwards.

The everyday kisses that Erasmus observed in 1499 appear to have disappeared from English social life by the 18th century. By then, men were shaking hands (although many women were still expected to kiss). However, close male friends continued to be greeted with a kiss on the lips, in an era when The style of men’s friendship was very affectionate.

As Barclay writes, by the end of the 19th century, kisses of fidelity and peace became a distant memory, and as the emphasis on romantic marriage increased, lip-kissing became almost exclusively associated with the private world of love and especially sex. But this did not mean that kissing completely disappeared from public and political life. In 1908, the London County Council banned kissing games in schools due to an outbreak of diphtheria. A new era of parenting advice in the 1920s prompted further debate – whether it was okay to kiss babies, or, as the American behaviorist John Watson argued, whether it amounted to “pampering” (he warned in 1928 to “beware the dangers lurking in the mother’s kiss”). I can hardly imagine kissing a stranger’s baby, but apparently it was such a common occurrence that by the 1930s, health-conscious mothers were advised to write the warning on their babies’ bibs: “Do not kiss me”.

Above all, concerns about sex remained on the agenda. Between the wars, with audiences flocking to picture palaces, censors became concerned by the explicit depiction of desire on screen. In 1934, the infamous Hays Code banned “extreme and lascivious” kissing, as well as interracial and same-sex kissing. In the 1970s, defiant gay civil rights activists embraced the “kiss-in”, reclaiming a vision of gay life that was as much about love and tenderness as sex. Later, amid the AIDS epidemic and the flood of misinformation about its transmission, the radical potential of the kiss became even greater.

Today the public debate focuses on consent. In 2023, former Spanish Football Federation president Luis Rubiales sparked international outrage when he kissed captain Jenny Hermoso on the lips after Spain’s World Cup victory (he was found guilty of sexual assault). Even the most apparently innocuous kiss can be carried out through power and politics. As Barclay’s timely book reminds us, it was always this way.

Kissing is illustrated extensively with fascinating examples. Readers looking for a fast-paced narrative of history may find its style a little academic in places, but Barclay’s central point remains persuasive: “When we kiss, we kiss with the weight of history”.

Tiffany Watt Smith is a cultural historian and author of Bad Friends: On Joyful, Imperfect Love (Faber). The Kiss: A History of Passion and Power by Katie Barclay is published by Reaktion (£20). To support the Guardian, order your copy here guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.

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