THERE are seven nights remaining to enjoy the peace and quiet that deep autumn brings before all hell breaks loose.

Next Thursday, fireworks go on sale to herald the start of Guy Fawkes week, just in time for Halloween to add another dimension to mischief makers who use trick-or-treat as an excuse to cause mayhem.

What used to be a few concentrated hours of noise on one night, of roaring bonfires and black skies seared with soaring colourful fireworks seemingly exploding among the stars, has succumbed like so many things to the culture of excess.

Why celebrate something once when there are a variety of opportunities – and money to be made – from wringing every last drop of potential until it is bone dry?

The Gunpowder Plot may have been foiled on 5 November 1605, but why bother with historical accuracy by marking the anniversary on the relevant date when this annual celebration of the deliverance of James I can be dragged out for a week or more?

Those more sensitive souls among us, nervous furry animals, anxious farmyard beasts and terrified birds clinging like limpets to branches above our heads have our dear Constables to thank for extending the period in which fireworks can be sold from one week to ten days.

This more than generous extension is down to the lobbying of James Bevis, who makes his living by staging fireworks displays, following poor sales last year and the effects of the recession.

Everyone loves the spectacle of a well organised and spectacular fireworks display such as those which herald the New Year in cities worldwide.

Since fireworks were invented in China in the 12th century primarily to scare away evil spirits, displays have become an important part of religious festivals and holidays, national and cultural celebrations and, more recently, private parties.

In ancient China, pyrotechnicians were highly respected for their skill in mounting
dazzling displays of light and sound. There is no denying the expertise that goes into a fireworks display of grand proportions, but there is also a downside to fireworks: in the hands of the inexperienced and those intent on causing mischief, they are dangerous and potentially lethal.

It is the widespread use of fireworks all year round that has taken the novelty out of Bonfire Night, while also diminishing its significance in British history.

Anyone with enough cash to burn can have a fireworks display in their garden or as a flash finale to a wedding reception, and many do, much to the annoyance of those who live close by.

An occasional display is fine, but when it becomes a regular occurrence of the party season, tempers can become frazzled.

I have long regarded private fireworks displays, especially those which cost obscene amounts of money, as a rather vulgar expression of wealth. And never more so than in the current climate, when the ordinary man and woman are suffering from the risks taken by flash financial gamblers.

As we look forward (or not) to Halloween celebrations, enlivened by fireworks and night upon night of loud bangs until 7 November, it is worth reflecting of the
popularity of these autumnal celebrations and why we carve pumpkins and send children off into the night to offer tricks or treats.

Just who was the man behind the effigy children beg pennies for before setting it alight? Halloween (originally spelt Hallowe’en – shortened from All Hallow’s Even) is
celebrated on 31 October.

It is associated with ghosts and ghouls, witches and the dead and carving pumpkins with scary faces to make lanterns.

Its roots are in the Celtic pagan festival of Samhain, the festival held at the end of the harvest season when food supplies were stockpiled for the coming winter. As with all pagan festivities, attempts were made to supplant it with religious celebrations by moving All Saints’ Day from May to coincide with Halloween.

The Halloween sections of garden centres and shops and the proliferation of
pumpkins Islandwide illustrate the enduring appeal of this ancient festival. The custom of trick-or-treating has in recent times in certain parts of Jersey led to acts of vandalism and a proliferation of egg throwing.

Little did Guy Fawkes suspect when he led the Catholic plot to displace the protestant King James that he would leave such a lasting impression on British culture.
Until 1859 the British people were compelled by threat of military enforcement to celebrate Parliament’s deliveranc from the Papist plot.

So popular was Guy Fawkes Night by then that the tradition of burning his
effigy to the accompanying pyrotechnical display has persisted and has even been exported to the far-flung corners of the Commonwealth by Brits seeking pastures new.

It is ironic that in these days of overbearing politically correctness and the stifling of freedom of speech that ballroom dancers are subjected to public derision for uttering innocuous racial comparisons, yet it is perfectly acceptable to toss effigies of a Catholic onto a bonfire and set it alight.

The problem with today’s fireworks is that while they are pretty to look at, the
explosions are simply too loud – and for many that diminishes the enjoyment.

A public display in an open space or, even better, offshore at locations such as Elizabeth Castle are spectacles to behold. But the same fireworks exploding in a neighbour’s garden or set off from a hotel in a residential area are nothing but a
nuisance.

There are countries, including Australia, where sales of fireworks to the
public are banned and only organised public displays are permitted. This has most certainly not dampened the Australians passion for a good ol’ fireworks display, nor would it ours.

We should ban sales to the public for ever and leave it to the professionals to put their mastery to spectacular effect in appropriate locations.