When traveling in Europe, the nuances of greeting customs, such as whether to kiss and how many times, can be perplexing. This scenario likely would have resonated with the Dutch theologian Desiderius Erasmus, who, during a visit to England in 1499, observed the English penchant for enthusiastic greetings through kisses. He expressed his astonishment, noting, “Wherever you go, you are received on all hands with kisses; when you take leave, you are dismissed with kisses.” While the practice of kissing on the lips had waned in many European cultures, the English continued to embrace it regardless of gender, making it a common social norm.
Kissing, often perceived as an instinctive and natural act, carries a complex history that varies across cultures. Historian Katie Barclay, who specializes in the history of emotions, highlights how the meanings associated with kissing have evolved over time. From the ritualistic kisses of medieval knights to the more contemporary portrayals in romantic comedies, the act of kissing has always been a multifaceted gesture, encompassing both public and private dimensions.
Barclay, a professor at Macquarie University in Sydney, traces the origins of kissing back to medieval Europe, specifically the osculum pacis or the kiss of peace. This lip-to-lip kiss, typically exchanged between influential figures, symbolized the conclusion of legal or diplomatic discussions. Based on the belief that breath carried the spirit, this act was thought to unite the souls of the participants. Vassals would also partake in this ritual with their lords, as well as worshippers within the church. However, as societal norms shifted, particularly among the wealthy who were reluctant to kiss their servants, churches introduced the pax—a symbolic object that could be kissed instead.
Not all kisses served as egalitarian symbols. The act of kissing someone’s foot, for instance, could be both reverent and humiliating. A notable example from 911 involves the Viking leader Rollo, who was required to kneel and kiss the foot of the Frankish king to demonstrate loyalty as part of a peace treaty. Rollo, who refused to bow to any man, ultimately sent a proxy to perform the kiss, causing a humorous incident when the stand-in nearly toppled the king.
By the 18th century, the more casual kisses observed by Erasmus had largely faded from English society. Handshakes became the norm for men, though women were still expected to kiss. However, close male friendships retained the custom of kissing on the lips during this period, which was characterized by affectionate male bonds.
As Barclay points out, by the late 19th century, public kissing had transformed significantly. With the decline of formal kisses of fealty and a burgeoning focus on romantic love, kissing began to be perceived primarily as a private expression of affection. Nonetheless, kissing did not vanish entirely from public life. In 1908, a diphtheria outbreak led to the London county council prohibiting kissing games in schools. By the 1920s, a new wave of parenting advice sparked debates about the appropriateness of kissing children, with behaviorist John Watson warning against the potential “coddling” associated with such gestures. This concern was so prevalent that by 1930, health-conscious mothers were advised to label their infants’ bibs with “do not kiss me.”
Concerns surrounding sexuality have kept kissing in public discourse throughout history. During the interwar period, film audiences flocked to cinemas, prompting censors to respond to the explicit portrayals of desire. The 1934 Hays Code prohibited “excessive and lustful” kisses, as well as those between individuals of different races or the same sex. In the 1970s, LGBTQ+ activists staged “kiss-ins,” reclaiming kissing as a symbol of love and tenderness alongside its sexual connotations. The AIDS epidemic later highlighted the radical implications of kissing amidst widespread misinformation regarding its transmission.
Currently, the conversation around kissing often revolves around the concept of consent. In 2023, former Spanish football federation president Luis Rubiales faced international backlash for kissing team captain Jenni Hermoso on the lips after Spain’s World Cup win, as he was later found guilty of sexual assault. This incident underscores how even seemingly spontaneous kisses can be laden with power dynamics and political implications. Barclay’s insightful book serves as a timely reminder that these complexities have always accompanied the act of kissing.
“The Kiss” is filled with intriguing examples that illustrate the multifaceted nature of this gesture. While some readers may find its academic tone slightly dense, Barclay’s compelling argument remains clear: “when we kiss, we kiss with the weight of history.”
Tiffany Watt Smith, a cultural historian and author of “Bad Friend: On Joyous, Imperfect Love,” notes that “The Kiss: A History of Passion and Power” by Katie Barclay is available through Reaktion for £20. To support the Guardian, interested readers can purchase a copy at guardianbookshop.com, though delivery fees may apply.
