The Banquet: an Honest Review

If you are Swedish or have spent some time in Sweden, you probably know all about the classic Swedish festive dinner and its formal cousin: the banquet. The majority of school-centred suave soirées will probably revolve around this interesting ritual. Having grown up in England, I've experienced a formal dinner or two in my life but none to the same sort of ritualistic standards as the banquet. So here we go, your guide to an honest review of the Swedish banquet.

Do we really need to make it formal?

Ok Sweden is pretty good at keeping things informal. School teachers go on a first name basis, everyone I've met is rather casual, hell the SASSE board wear working togs for their uniform. Nonetheless, if there's one thing I've learned since coming here it's that Handels likes to do things differently. Formal is our middle name. Even join me on briefcase bingo in the Atrium at lunch time.

So in a country which prides itself in being so chilled out, is it necessary to have so many formal traditions crammed into one evening? Well no, but it’s nice. I've enjoyed many a song over many a snap on a low-key Midsummer but I've also equally had a jolly ol' time doing the same things up in Stora Salen. I say yes to whipping out a bow tie and yes to a ball gown (although the necessity of reportedly painful high heels is perhaps a debate for another blog), it's nice to feel nice no?

The songs

You will sing. You have no choice. And COVID aside, this is something I really do love, even if my Swedish was tested hard in that first banquet to read lyrics, guess melodies and figure out how on earth to know what the 'k' sounds like. I think from a non-Swedish speaker's point of view, the singing can be interpreted as a little cultish without knowing the words (pretty much every one is about drinking or just having a good time - because you don't need one to have the other). Nonetheless, just think of all those British football fans who sing godforsaken lyrics at their players every weekend and then ask yourself, what's the real cult now?

The break

Completely caught me off guard on the first time. Wait? We're having fun, why do we need a break from fun?! I'll tell you why, because there are rules and you need some time to bend those. Yes it is frowned upon going to the little boys or girls room during the sitting, but the purge begins once the break is announced. Other more lavish and formal-appropriate break activities include, running outside for fresh air only to have to stand with the smelly smokers or, my personal favourite, sprinting down to Handels' favourite Hirschenkeller for the quickest pint (or alcohol-free alternative of course) of your life only to run back up just as it begins and have to sit there holding in the inevitable pee that comes with it.

The table banging

Enjoying your meal? How about that drink? It'd be a shame if someone was to come and... I don't know... steal it? Alright so maybe that won't happen anymore (probably one of the few things for which I'm thankful COVID has stopped) but it still used to be a thing. The fact any group can start drumrolling and all of a sudden everyone becomes paranoid of impeding theft is the more subtle and grim life lessons I've learned from Handels - always be on guard, someone is always on the look out for an easy target to steal.

The worst part comes momentarily after the first group embarks on either a bordskål (they just say cheers after a drumroll) or tjuvskål (they actually get up and try and steal an unguarded drink). This is because the paranoia just doesn't end. Much like a catchy TikTok dance, once one group sets the trend, every group and their neighbours will be going for a skål surprise and thus begins the longest 20 minutes of your life listening to each section do a little drum roll and decide if they want to stick or twist.

Dancing on the chairs

I was a little intrigued when it was mentioned more than once that dancing on the tables was not permitted. Not because it was my game plan for the evening, but more because the repetition seemed like they were trying to stamp out a recent habit of banquet goers. And soon enough, I understood why. Once Robbie William's Angels comes on, it's kind of hard to resist hugging your neighbour (again pre-COVID) and swaying along on your chairs while resisting to think of how dirty your shoes were and consequently chair will be when you sit back down. Again, I liked this little tradition, its harmless and gets a bit of blood flowing to my legs.

The art of the pre-drink.

Now I am not the same naive little man I was when I was 18 and going to uni for the first time so I have a bit of hindsight in my toolbox right now. Further, I've seen numerous disasters occur due to the pre-drink being more of a drink than a pre-drink. Let us first ask what a pre-drink is about. In my view of alcohol being unnecessary to really enjoy oneself, the pre-drink is more about getting together with your friends before an event where you may not get to talk (especially because of the seating arrangement of the banquet - see below).

In a club you can't really have a chat, play games or have a laugh and in a banquet you are often too busy making small talk with your random neighbour whilst simultaneously guarding your drink whilst also trying to read the next lyrics for the song that may or may not come up to do this also. Further, as I emphasised: you cannot go to the bathroom during the sitting so breaking the seal would just ruin the night for you and those around you who have to listen to your complaints over how long the main course is taking to be served. My advice is: don't ruin it for yourself, think of the next 4 hours of formalities you have to get through and think of the fun you will have swaying on your chair knowing you have a lower chance of falling off it.