The Source of Christmas
You don’t have to be Columbo to see a link between Christmas and Scandinavia. It’s enough to imagine a freezing winter wonderland with log cabins, a fireplace and an overdose of hygge. But more essential Christmas habits also owe their origins to Scandinavian traditions.
Away from the clichés, it’s probably wise to dress in a stained brown macintosh, like Columbo, if you want to be a detective of history. A PhD in ‘folkloristics’ whose expertise is in old tales and fiddles helps too. They state that the appearance of Santa Claus or Father Christmas, owes much to the Norse god Odin. Odin, God of Gods, the moody blue-hooded, cloaked, white-bearded gift-bringer of the north, rode the midwinter sky on his eight-footed steed Sleipnir, distributing gifts. He transformed into Father Christmas, then Santa Claus and thrived as St Nicholas to become a leading player at Christmastime. To use words modern people can understand, this is probably one of the greatest ‘mash-up’s’ in history.
Norwegian-American economist Thorstein Veblen is famous for the idea of ‘conspicuous consumption’. Some of his inspiration is probably even taken from his own folk’s practices at Christmas. Norwegians, for centuries being the poorest sods in Europe, threw themselves into conspicuous consumption once a year at midwinter. The tradition dates to the pagan feast of Yule, celebrating Odin, and the shortest day at midwinter. The party concept was to essentially make Odin happy so that he would give them back the sun. A bonus was all the fun in doing it. A third of yet another cruel winter was over and done, ‘only’ three (to four) more months to go before spring arrived, so it was probably time to party. Norse mythology and rituals are pragmatic that way. Or, in the word of Bing Crosby: ‘Have yourself a marry little Christmas, make the yuletide gay!’
The aftermath was the world’s biggest hangover. Payment for the total lack of self-control and overspending was having famine the rest of the year — or at least until berry-picking season in July. Alcohol was the only thing there was no shortage of. But the quick-fix worked and Odin did indeed give people back the sun, every year.
‘The party concept was to essentially make Odin happy so that he would give them back the sun.’
Just like Jason Bourne , Odin had many names. One of them was Jölner, Mr Jul, another was jólfaðr or “Yule father”. Yet another was Langbarðr, or “long-beard”. And like Bourne, Odin liked to travel, but unlike Bourne (who prefers the European Interrail pass) Odin preferred his eight-legged horse. Eight legs you say? Eight reindeers? Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen. Rudolph joined the sledge later, in 1939, sponsored by department store Montgomery Ward, the number of Santa Claus’s reindeers then counted nine.
To muddy the waters even more, other legendary animals from Norse mythology are also mixed up in this fable. The origins of the Christmas goat, or Yule goat, can be traced back to Odin’s vigorous son Thor. Thor was last seen as an Australian backpacker fighting Neo-Nazis alongside The Hulk in the film Ragnarok. In the old days he rode the sky in a chariot drawn by two goats, Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr, swinging his hammer Mjólnir and messing up the weather with thunder and lightning. On breaks from this tantrum, he relieved himself of some Northern Lights from the back of the chariot. Modern representations of his goats are the straw goats hanging on the Christmas tree, whereas Santa has stolen the chariot, and the Northern Lights.
The modus operandi for a Scandinavian Christmas hasn’t changed much since the Middle Ages. Until now, at least. They still run the longest festive season, which starts in October and ends in January. That way, nobody can find a reason not to partake: eat pork, drink pilsner, down aquavit. Then repeat the procedure the next day. And the next. All in all, it becomes Groundhog Day, or Night, and if you don’t manage to step off the booze-train, you´re on track for a multitude of health issues.
Too much conspicuous consumption is not good for anybody. It’s hard not to participate. Luckily, things are about to change. Just as generations change, so do their drinking habits and attitudes towards unwanted behaviour — and health risks — resulting from all the boozing. With #metoo the mood was less rowdy and grabby this year, probably. However, getting too drunk and making a pass at your colleague is not likely to be a tradition we do away with all together anytime soon. How else can we ensure people keep meeting and making those babies. Tinder?!? Don’t think so.The attitude towards the many that don’t eat swine or meat at all, is hopefully beginning to change too. It has to. Come on. The medieval ritual is losing its grip, one less pork chop or shot of aquavit at a time.
The last trace of the old deity Odin are the small Scandinavian Christmas gnomes with red hats known as ‘Nisser’ in Norway and Denmark, and ‘Tomte’ in Sweden. The word Tomte originates from ‘tomt’ meaning ‘plots of land’ as this creature would take care of the barns and stables. Far into the twentieth century, a millennia after the heyday of Odin, good Christians still made offerings to the pagan God, leaving food for him at Christmas, mainly pudding, his favourite dish. ‘Nisse’ being a nickname for Nils is a cognate to St. Nikolaus, and voila, the bishop from Turkey and the Norse God emerge into an imperfect and morally dubious creature, who hangs around in the barns, popping out when you least expect it and demands pudding. If the demands are not met, he’ll make a mess of your Christmas preparation. So beware!
God jul.
Bonus: Here’s some great yule music from the band, The Source: of Christmas