How does the “epidemic of melancholy” link back to the suppression of public festivities?

Why did early societies view collective dance as a biological necessity for survival?

Discover Barbara Ehrenreich’s compelling argument that communal dance is an evolutionary necessity, not just a pastime. This analysis of Dancing in the Streets traces the history of collective joy from ancient Dionysian rituals to rock and roll, revealing why the suppression of these festivities may be fueling modern society’s depression epidemic.

Read the full article to understand the “post-festive” era and learn how reclaiming collective rituals can offer a powerful antidote to modern isolation.

Genres

Psychology, History, Society, Culture

Introduction: Discover a seriously joyful subject.

Dancing in the Streets (2008) explores the deep-rooted origins of communal celebration in human biology and culture, highlighting universal elements like carnival, music-making, and dance. It reveals how such practices were integral to Western traditions – from the ancient Greek worship of Dionysus to medieval Christianity as a “danced religion”.

Barbara Ehrenreich, Dancing in the Streets, A History of Collective Joy Dancing together is woven into the fabric of human experience. It’s in our DNA. French sociologist Emile Durkheim coined the term collective effervescence to describe the powerful communal energy that arises when people come together in shared rituals, often through dance, creating a sense of unity and transcendence. Yet, the subject remains overlooked as a field of study.

While there are roughly 45,000 journal articles and psychological publications on depression, only about 400 explore joy. But the pursuit and manifestation of collective joy, from feasts and carnivals to rock concerts, is equally deserving of our attention. In this summary, we’ll examine this fascinating topic further.

Dancing was once crucial for our survival

Dancing was once crucial for our survival. Around 10,000 years ago, prehistoric humans were singularly focused on survival, dedicating their days to securing food, shelter and warmth. They crafted rudimentary weapons, fashioned garments, and began to develop early agricultural technology. Yet, alongside these vital activities, they engaged in something else that might seem surprising—dance.

In modern times, we often view dance as nonessential, a mere pastime or form of entertainment. But the evidence of early societies devoting significant time to dance suggests otherwise. Anthropologist Victor Turner refers to these as liminal or peripheral activities, important for navigating transitions and maintaining social cohesion within a community. Anthropologists widely agree that dance played an important role in allowing humans to live together in larger communities beyond small family groups. The optimal group size for survival during this era is estimated to be around 150 individuals, and dance served as a powerful tool to bond these larger groups together. Communities capable of uniting through dance likely had an evolutionary advantage over others.

When people move in time to rhythm collectively, it stimulates a response in the brain that drives cortical rhythms and produces feelings of intense pleasure. This biological response has deep evolutionary roots. Sex is pleasurable because it promotes the critical function of reproduction. Dance is pleasurable because it promotes an equally important function—community bonding. In ancient history, dance was also central to the worship of gods like Dionysus, Pan, and Krishna. Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and ecstasy, was honored with wild, ecstatic dances that blurred the lines between the human and the divine.

Pan, the rustic god of nature, inspired frenzied dances in forests and fields, embodying the untamed primal forces of nature. In Hinduism, Krishna is often depicted as a divine dancer, whose rhythmic movements symbolize the cosmic dance of life. The ecstatic dance rituals performed in their honor were not just acts of worship but also means of achieving a transcendent state of collective joy. As paganism began to be refined by civilization, particularly with the rise of the Roman Empire, and as Christianity spread, these collective ecstatic rituals started to be viewed with suspicion in certain Western cultures.

Christianity shaped Western attitudes to dance

Christianity shaped Western attitudes to dance. In regions once devoted to Dionysus or Pan, a new figure emerged—Jesus Christ. To a modern observer, and certainly to Christians of the Reformation era, these figures might seem diametrically opposed. Yet the rites and festivities of early Christians were reportedly not dissimilar to the ecstatic rites performed by pagans.

Scholarly accounts suggest that early Christian services were noisy and charismatic, involving the consumption of wine, listening to music, and dancing. Early Christians were often persecuted for their beliefs and practices. This persecution, combined with the belief that an apocalypse was imminent, infused their rituals and celebrations with a heightened sense of nihilistic abandonment. Yet as the early Christian cult evolved into an official and more respected church institution, some of these ecstatic and collective elements began to fade.

Collective dancing began to be frowned upon by church leaders. This shift in attitude was definitively marked in the fourth century when John Chrysostom, Archbishop of Constantinople, famously declared, For where there is a dance, there’s also the devil. But while church elders were convinced that dance and collective ecstasy had no place in Christianity, the followers of the faith were slower to adopt these restrictions. For centuries after John Chrysostom’s pronouncement, many Christians still yearned for dance and ecstatic experiences, finding new and inventive ways to express these desires within the bounds of their evolving religious framework.

Carnival celebrated and regulated collective dance

Carnival Celebrated and Regulated Collective Dance Despite the efforts of church authorities, Christianity throughout the Middle Ages was a religion deeply intertwined with dance. Many parish priests, despite orders from higher up to quash these rituals, condoned and even participated in the dances of their congregations. The church’s wariness of dancing stemmed from a belief that it allowed individuals to access experiences of ecstasy and divinity within their own control, bypassing the church’s mediated authority over the divine. This was particularly troubling to the church, which sought to maintain its power by regulating how and when people could connect with spiritual ecstasy.

This suppression of dance led to an unusual and dramatic backlash, in the form of dance manias that swept across parts of Europe, particularly in France and Italy. In these episodes, large groups of people, sometimes hundreds, would suddenly and uncontrollably begin dancing, often until they collapsed from exhaustion or injury. Although historians and medical experts have searched for a biological or psychological explanation for these manias, no satisfactory answer has been found. It’s possible that these outbreaks were a collective contagious impulse to recapture earlier forms of ecstatic dance, a desperate reaction to the church’s strict prohibitions. Eventually, the church struck a compromise. Dancing and other indulgent behaviors were allowed on specific high holidays, but banned on other holidays.

This institutionalization of dance was an attempt to control the outbreaks of dance mania, while still giving the church power to regulate the experience of collective joy. This compromise ultimately led to the invention of Carnival, a period of sanctioned revelry before the austerity of Lent. Carnival became the most exuberant of the church’s sanctioned celebrations, characterized by upending the social order, the election of a lord or king of misrule, and widespread singing, dancing, and feasting. During the Feast of Fools, for instance, the poor were allowed to criticize the rich, turning the social hierarchy on its head for a brief period. Carnival was a time when the usual rules were suspended, and people could indulge in behaviors normally considered sinful or inappropriate. During the 16th and 19th centuries, both church and state increasingly viewed Carnival as a serious threat, often leading to riots and revolutionary revolts.

Consequently, they worked together to suppress or outright ban these festivities throughout Europe. In Northern Europe, where austere Protestantism took hold, the bans were especially strict. As the ruling classes withdrew from collective culture, they developed their own exclusive forms of leisure, such as ballet, opera, and private balls, further distancing themselves from the possibilities of true collective ecstatic experiences that Carnival had once offered to all.

In the era of melancholy, dancing decreases

In the Era of Melancholy, Dancing Decreases In 17th-century England, an epidemic of depression swept through society, afflicting prominent figures such as writer John Bunyan, poet John Donne, essayist Samuel Johnson, and politician Oliver Cromwell. Though often referred to as the English Malady, melancholy was not confined to England. It was a widespread affliction across Europe. By the 19th century, melancholy had become entrenched both as a medical diagnosis and a literary and artistic theme, affecting thinkers like Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Charles Baudelaire, and Leo Tolstoy.

These melancholics were characterized by apathy, a loss of appetite for life, and a withdrawal from society. Could this decline in the ability to experience pleasure be linked to the systematic repression of dance and other rituals of collective ecstasy by church and state? While this doesn’t all aspects of melancholy, the banning of festivals and carnivals could reasonably be considered a contributing factor to the rise of melancholy during this period. Galler Lionel Trilling notes a significant shift in human nature between the 16th and 17th centuries, the rise of subjectivity and selfhood. People began to focus more on their individual identities, prioritizing personal autonomy and critical thinking over collective experiences. While this shift allowed for greater individual autonomy, it also led to individuals becoming increasingly isolated, walled off from communal bonding and shared joy.

This paradoxical rise of the self occurred alongside the strengthening of the concept of society, leading to a heightened preoccupation with societal judgment. Urbanization, the rise of capitalism, and industrialization further emphasized competition and isolation, moving people away from communal pleasures like dance. In contrast, many non-Western cultures have long used ecstatic rituals, including dance, to address mental and spiritual disorders. For example, the Kung people of the Kalahari Desert use dance rituals to treat spiritual disorders, and in parts of Islamic Morocco, severe depressions are treated through dance.

In Uganda, rehabilitation programs for child soldiers incorporate dance rituals as a form of healing. It’s difficult to definitively say whether dance rituals concretely treat depression, or whether the disappearance of these rituals in Europe led to increased rates of depression. But it’s clear that dance rituals encourage healing through communal bonding and facilitate self-loss, which may act as a release for individual mental maladies. It’s ironic that the forces of Protestantism and capitalism, which helped precipitate the rise of melancholy, also contributed to the suppression of practices that might have offered a cure for this condition.

Fascist regimes co-opt the aesthetics of collective ecstasy

Fascist regimes co-opt the aesthetics of collective ecstasy. In the contemporary West, we live in what could be described as a post-festive era. While traditional festivals and communal dances have largely faded, mass gatherings and spectacles still play a significant role in public life. The most notorious examples in recent memory are the rallies staged by fascist regimes in Nazi Germany and Mussolini’s Italy.

American journalist William Shirer, who attended one of Hitler’s rallies, remarked that he began to understand, though not condone, Hitler’s appeal. Shirer observed that Hitler and the Nazis had restored ritual, pageantry, and color to public life—elements that had long been stripped away in modern society. The rallies were meticulously staged in grand spaces adorned with ritualistic decorations, including swastikas and references to a blend of pagan and mythic stories deeply rooted in the Germanic past. These elements encouraged a collective experience where individuals were subsumed into the crowd, losing their capacity for independent thought and critique. But were these fascist rallies truly examples of collective ecstasy akin to ancient Dionysian rites? Did they genuinely create experiences of self-loss and transcendence?

Or were they calculated events that mimicked the aesthetics of collective ecstasy without delivering on its deeper principles? The key distinction here is that these rallies were spectacles rather than genuine festivals. While festivities throughout history have involved elements of disorder and spontaneous joy, the fascist rallies were highly regimented, featuring synchronized marching and strict order. They echo the nationalist spectacles prominent in the 18th and 19th centuries, where military marches and displays of patriotism were used to control public entertainment and energy, much like the medieval church’s control over carnival.

Both Hitler and Mussolini grew up on these displays of power, and their rallies were an attempt to channel the collective energy of the populace in a controlled manner. Dancing, particularly swing dancing, was seen as dangerous by the Nazis, who even feared that the rhythms of new music from black musicians in the USA could compromise the purity of German nationality. The rallies were scripted, heavily policed, and often mandatory, making them a poor substitute for the joyous, chaotic festivities they were intended to replace.

The rock and roll rebellion recaptures ecstatic dance rituals

The Rock and Roll Rebellion Recaptures Ecstatic Dance Rituals The 1950s and 60s witnessed an explosion of dance and collective joy that echoed the dance manias of medieval Europe as rock and roll broke into the mainstream. The United States and the United Kingdom, with their puritanical and industrial legacies, might seem unlikely epicenters for this hysteria. But their histories of fervently suppressing and expunging global practices of ritual dance and collective joy may have made them especially vulnerable to such an eruption. Rock and roll’s origins lie in African dance, slave songs, and the blues.

These deeply rhythmic and emotive forms of expression, rooted in the African diaspora, were co-opted by white performers, most notably Elvis Presley. Elvis, with his sexually suggestive dance moves—movements that also drew from global dance traditions—shocked white Western audiences. What had been a means of survival and resistance among enslaved Africans was transformed into a cultural phenomenon that challenged the conservative norms of mid-twentieth century America and beyond. Elvis, and later The Beatles, were notorious not only for their performances but also for the frenzied responses they provoked from audiences. It was common for their singing to be drowned out by the shrieks of fans, a testament to the overwhelming energy these artists unleashed. This rock rebellion was, in many ways, a rebellion against the passive role of the audience.

Spectators at a Presley or Beatles show didn’t want to sit quietly and watch their idols gyrate. They wanted to join in, to make the experience communal and collective. Whereas carnivals and dance rituals were inherently participatory, for the last few centuries, the role of the audience member had become codified into one of silent observation and polite applause. Yet, the human brain is hard-wired for participation. Neuroscience suggests that simply perceiving motion in another—whether walking or dancing—is enough to trigger the brain to signal the observer to join in. By the mid-1950s, opportunities for this kind of communal physical participation were few.

While boys had sports, girls were often excluded, which may explain why the frenzied crowds at Presley and Beatles concerts were largely adolescent females. The rock rebellion soon precipitated a broader youth rebellion, with drug culture—particularly psychedelics—enhancing the ecstatic dimension of the collective experience. While rock music initially stood as a form of anti-establishment expression, it was quickly commercialized, and the early frenzied collective ecstasy was tamed. Nevertheless, at its peak, the rock rebellion demonstrated that humanity’s appetite for communal joy and self-abandonment remains undimmed since prehistoric times.

Conclusion

The main takeaway of this summary to Dancing in the Streets by Barbara Ehrenreich is that communal dance and collective joy are a fundamental part of the human experience across eras and cultures. Though these traditions have been suppressed in Western cultures, the human need for unregulated, non-commercialized communal joy remains strong. Okay, that’s it for this summary. We hope you enjoyed it.