Resolve

The engraving of Auratus Janus … in the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria reminds us of the important and unique Roman god, Janus, who may lend his name to the first month of the year.

In Roman mythology, Janus was a king of the Latium region of Italy who was given divine honours due to his religious devotion. His name (Ianus in Latin) is etymologically related to the Latin word, ianua, meaning doorway, and accordingly, Janus was the ianitor (doorkeeper) of the heavens.

In the engraving ‘after Marratti’ we see Janus in his role as door keeper, holding a key in his left hand, as he ‘mediates’ between the dark and the light, the troubled and the tranquil, and the past and the future. His characteristic depiction with two faces looking in opposite directions reminds us of his role in all forms of transition, whether concrete or abstract, – from entrances and exits, to endings and beginnings.

With his ability to see with one face into the past and the other into the future, Janus was worshipped at the beginning of significant events and, over time, this ability was regarded as an essential component of wisdom. When honouring Janus at the start of a new year, religious Romans promised the god they would be better in the future than they had been in the past. Today, the contemporary acknowledgement of Janus takes the form of New Year’s resolutions.

Many studies suggest that up to one half of us make resolutions at the start of the year with the most common being about exercise and healthy eating (50%), weight loss (45%) and saving money (51% in 2019). With the lifestyle restrictions imposed on us by the COVID pandemic, I imagine that the extra eating, drinking and lack of exercise will confirm these numbers for 2021.

Of course, New Year’s resolutions are like the road to hell paved with good intentions and the data indicates that considerably fewer than half of resolutions are ongoing by June (some studies find success rates as low as 6%!).

Nevertheless, it is the day to start again as I notice that coronavirus consumption has added unwanted kilograms. Accordingly, and armed with Joe Gillard’s ‘Little Book of Lost Words’ I hereby resolve that:

I will not treat 2021 as a ‘quafftide’ (16^th c. English) – time for drinking alcohol, and I will no longer ‘tope’ (17^th c. English) – drink alcohol to excess. I will forgo ‘doundrins’ (17^th c. English) – afternoon drinks, and ensure that New Year’s Eve was my ‘Doch-an-Dorris’ (17^th c. Scottish) – parting drink.

I intend to become an ‘aquabib’ (19^th c. English) – water drinker only. However, if I do resort to alcohol it will only be a ‘catlap’ (19^th c. Scottish) – a watered down drink suitable only for a cat.

Being ‘pamphagous’ (18^th c. English) – eating everything, is a significant problem as it has come with ‘allotriophagy’ (19^th c. English) a strong urge or desire to eat food that is unhealthy, which inevitably leads to ‘wamblecropt’ (17^th c. English) – severe digestive discomfort.

I will forgo ‘kickshaw’ (16^th c. English) – a dish that looks good but is lacking in substance, and will learn to enjoy a ‘prandicle’ (17^th c. English) – a small meal, or even being ‘famelicose’ (18^th c. English) – constantly hungry.

And I promise that I will not be an ‘opscheplooper‘ (early 20^th c. South African) – one who depends on the generosity of others for meals, or a ‘scambler’ (19^th c. Scottish) – an uninvited guest who appears only at mealtimes, and most definitely not ‘groke’ (19^th century Scottish) – stare eagerly at someone who is eating hoping they will give me food.

With my good intentions, my resolve and … armed with my new/old vocabulary, I certainly don’t want to eat my words!