In the days of old the Swedes had a wonderful, almost magical ritual - the personal skål. Imagine a formal dinner party about to begin, the ladies audibly rustling in their long dresses, heavy with perfume and jewellery, the men in dark suits and waistcoats, all standing patiently by their chairs waiting for the signal from Mormor. Morfar has already arranged for the wine glasses to be filled. A slight movement of Mormor’s head and a smile and all sit down to a rising murmur of sound as introductions are made, greetings exchanged, napkins unfolded and discretely arranged. Morfar makes a short speech of welcome, and proposes the first skål of the evening – the ‘welcome’ skål.
Here we come to the first rule of skåling: “Den första skålen som utbringas på en middag är välkomstskålen. Denna utbringas av värden eller värdinnan.”
Absolutely no drinking takes place before the välkomstskål – except table water, and then only discretely. “Före den första skålen är det inte tillåtet att dricka av måltidsdrycken”. During this welcome skål guests must turn first towards the host, then towards their table neighbours, and finally to their spouse or partner.
All this is not too dissimilar to the host’s welcome toast at 1950s dinner parties in many parts of the world, perhaps a little more formal. But the Swedes added something special. As the dinner progresses, individual guests may skål each other – but only one at a time. It is the way in which this is done that adds that special magic. First you choose your co-conspirator – for a conspiracy it is – and try to catch her eye (or his). Once those eyes lock the chooser silently mouths ‘skål’, nods ever so slightly, and raises his (her) glass. The chosen does exactly the same. The two wine glasses are simultaneously raised to their owners’ lips, and sipped – the mutual glance being maintained all the while. (Very important, as we shall see.) After sipping is completed the wine glasses stay very briefly in the raised position for a final eye-to-eye acknowledgement and nod; after which both glasses and eyes are lowered, and the conspirators return to the general conversation and to the dinner party. No words have been spoken, but a relationship has been created and momentarily explored.
As George Simmel once said: “By the glance which reveals the other, one discloses himself. The eye cannot take unless at the same time it gives. What occurs in this direct mutual glance represents the most perfect reciprocity in the entire field of human relationships”.
It was not quite as simple as that, unfortunately. In those days of formality and ritual there were other rules, too. For example husband were obliged to skål their wives at least once during the evening. It was the men who usually ‘skåled’ the women, I am afraid, but the worst thing for a schoolboy invited to such a dinner party for the first time was not simply that the young were not allowed to skål their elders, but the only time you could drink from your glass at all was while skåling. I remember the relief and gratitude at being rescued, after a desperately dry half hour, by a kindly aunt or uncle, and taking large gulps in case no-one else skåled me at all for the rest of the evening.
The eyes have been seen as the windows to the soul since the ancient Greeks. How clever of the Swedes, during those formal times when everyone bowed on acquaintance, and used ‘ni’ instead of ‘du’, to create a magical little dinner party ritual enabling two people to look into each others’ souls, if only for a few seconds. And how charming. Skål !
