A history of new year’s resolutions
Our annual festival of self-improvement is not such a new idea, says Dr Louisa McKenzie
For many of us, the new year is a time to make resolutions, whether that be getting more sleep, ticking an item off the bucket list or cutting down on indulgences. Doing so is not a modern invention. For millennia, civilisations around the world have been ringing in the new by shaking up the old.
In the second millennium BC, the Babylonian new year was celebrated not in January, but at the start of the farming season in March. Akitu, the spring festival, took place over 12 days, encompassing religious observances centred around the god Marduk, with rituals and communal feasting. Marduk was Babylon’s chief god, akin to Jupiter for the Romans. He would later also be known as Bel, which means Lord. During Akitu, the Enuma elish, a Mesopotamian epic poem, was recited in the Esaglia, a temple complex in Babylon dedicated to Marduk. This poem recounted the Babylonian creation story, the events of which were believed to have unrolled over 12 days, represented by the 12 days of the festival. As part of Akitu, the Babylonians made resolutions in the form of promises to the gods, particularly to pay debts or give back borrowed items, in return for a favourable coming year.
Before 46BC, the ancient Romans also celebrated new year in March. This all changed under Julius Caesar, to whom we owe the introduction of January 1 as the start of a new calendar year, although seeds of the tradition were sown earlier. For some years before Caesar, the consuls-elect, Rome’s highest statesmen, had been formally installed on January 1. The January date linked the new year to the Roman god, Janus, who had two faces — one looking forward and one looking back — which made him the perfect deity for transitioning from the old to the new. Somewhat ironically, Caesar would be assassinated two years later on what would have previously been New Year’s Day, the Ides of March (March 15).
Whether in March or January, new year was a time for positive intentions for the ancient Romans. There were family gatherings and gifts were exchanged. The Roman poet Ovid describes new year in detail in the Fasti, a six-book poem based around the calendar. He focuses on the need for positivity on January 1 to ensure this would continue all year long. “A prosperous day dawns: favour our thoughts and speech! Let auspicious words be said on this auspicious day.” Ovid’s text also indicates a Roman new year tradition that is rather unusual to modern eyes — going to work. It was believed that not doing this was an omen that the whole year would be unproductive.
Although Caesar had ushered in January 1 as New Year’s Day, this was not widely adopted for a long time. Following the rise of Christianity, in different periods the start of a new year was marked on various days of religious significance, including Christmas Day or Easter. The Feast of the Annunciation, celebrated on March 25, became a common date throughout Europe at which to start the new year.
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Florence in Italy had a particular dedication to the Virgin Annunciate and celebrations centred around the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata, just northeast of the Duomo. Santissima Annunziata contains a painting of the Annunciation that is believed to be an acheiropoieton — an image produced by divine, rather than human, hand (in this case, an angel).
Since the end of the 13th century, this image attracted pilgrims and votaries seeking miraculous intervention. These visitors often pledged ex-votos (sculptures in different sizes of things such as body parts, human or animal figures, ships etc) made from wax and other materials at the shrine. New year celebrations near Santissima Annunziata continued until 1750, when Florence adopted the Gregorian calendar, with January 1 as the start of a new year, like much of the rest of Europe.
Britain and, as a consequence, the American colonies didn’t start to use the Gregorian calendar until 1752 (Scotland was earlier, using it from 1600). Before this Britain had also used March 25 to start the new year. New year’s resolutions as we know them seem to have started at a similar time. The Scottish writer Anne Halkett may have been among the first to put a resolution in writing on January 2, 1671. The record of her intentions for the coming year under the heading “resolutions” is certainly one of the earliest of its kind to survive. Halkett was a prodigious Scottish memoirist and writer of religious texts. As such, most of her 1671 resolutions were inspired by her faith, such as, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
Texts from the beginning of the 19th century suggest that the practice of making new year’s resolutions had become more widespread. In 1802, Walker’s Hibernian Magazine, a monthly Irish magazine, poked fun at those who made — and generally failed to keep — such resolutions. “The physicians have determined to follow nature in her operations, and to prescribe no more than is necessary, and to be very moderate in their fees.”
By the 20th century, new year’s resolutions were common practice. In Little Gidding, the last poem of his Four Quartets, TS Eliot wrote of his desire: “For last year’s words belong to last year’s language/And next year’s words await another voice.” In 1942, the same year Little Gidding was published, the American singer-songwriter Woody Guthrie wrote his list of New Year’s Rulin’s in neat, slanted capitals. Among the 33 points on the list there is something for everyone to aspire to: “Eat good — fruit — vegetables — milk”, “Save dough”, “Make up your mind” and “Wake up and fight”. Meanwhile, the American writer Susan Sontag’s 1972 resolution was the admirable, “Kindness, kindness, kindness. I want to make a New Year’s prayer, not a resolution. I’m praying for courage.”
So, whatever you are considering giving up or taking up this January, you can be safe in the knowledge that those who have gone before you have made the same promises, and undergone the same struggles to keep them.
