It was a chilly night with a little snow in the air. There's a neighbourhood outdoor ice rink on my street, and several guests (including our visitors from Paris, France: Nicolas and Josépha) went for a skate after dinner, while the rest of us kept warm with impromptu picturades (pictionary+charades) and screened Elf.
Friends and Family are, for me at least, a necessary element of Christmastime. Of course, we should treasure and revere the relationships we have with the people we love all year round and not need an arbitrary holiday to show them that we care; but the thing about Christmas (or Yule, Saturnalia, Chrifsmas, or whatyouwill) is that we all do it together. We gather. We eat. We keep warm in the dark and remind each other that things will get warmer yet if we just hang on. And it's like it does, simply because we believe it will.
Seriously though, with 20-odd bodies in our house, we were able to turn the furnace off at 7 o'clock.
The original feast days in December observed by the celto-germanic peoples of Western Europe marked the winter solstice as a time to have a bit of a party because they knew - keen minders of the earth's cycles that they were thanks to the ancient druidic tradition of paying attention to the world around them (imagine that...) - that the days were about to get longer and they wouldn't be condemned to eternal dark and cold.
I travelled back in time to verify my assumptions. Here's a translated, transcribed conversation I overheard between some celtic dudes:
"Hey Cedric, did you notice that the sun was in the sky a little longer today than yesterday?"
"Yeah I did."
"Well, if tomorrow is even longer, then doesn't it stand to reason that the day after will follow the same trend, and before too long it'll start to get warmer?"
"That makes sense, sure."
"Well, we have enough elk meat for, like, 6 months. And we've been saving all that mead your wife made. If it's going to get warm in a few months, crops will probably start growing and game animals will be easier to find, and we won't need our food stores."
"Huh. You don't say."
"Yeah. We should probably start eating a lot more, actually. I don't want all that elk to go bad."
"Here's a thought: let's have a party! We can have it at the Party Mansion!"
"You mean the Mead Hall?"
"Yes. The Mead Hall is what I meant."
Attached to the old traditions are a few interesting characters. We're all familiar with Santa Claus, Father Christmas, Pere Noël, and probably his predecessor, Saint Nicolas. In a few European cultures, though, St. Nick isn't the only visitor kids have at Christmas.
This creepy customer is Krampus. He's Santa's good buddy and traveling companion and, aside from inappropriate play, he sneaks up on naughty boys and girls and hits them with sticks. The basket he has (seen here full of apples) is to cart the especially bad children off to hell.
This cheery french fellow is Le Père Fouettard (the whipping father) who does pretty much the same thing as Krampus but without the weird sexual stuff. An added bonus is that he not only switches little buggers with sticks, but also gives them coal. I don't care who you ask, but coal was pretty useful stuff in the 14th century, just not as fun as straw dolls or wooden horses.
I saved the most interesting for last.
My Dutch friends (all two of them) would agree that Zwarte Piet (Black Peter) is a pretty compelling Christmas companion. He's allied with Sint Nikolaas, who's actually a patron saint of mariners in Holland, and he resembles a Moorish merchant - who would have arrived from Spain or Northern Africa in Amsterdam via trade ship (Othello, anyone?).
Piet became popular in the Netherlands in the 19th century and shares many of his attributes with the other two lovelies, except for the whole racial profiling thing. Let's face it: some Dutch political leaders aren't the most ethnically sensitive folks out there.
So, where does that leave us with the whole reason-for-the-season thing? I'm not exactly sure. The holiday is so all over the map that it's hard to say what, or whom exactly it's for. Oh wait, I forgot to mention the late JC. Mary's boy-child. Away in a Manger. Pa-rum pa-pum-pum, and all that. Except that Jesus' birthday is actually (wait for it)... June 17. That is, if you're a person whose faith doesn't blind you to verifiable, repeatable observation (ie.: science). If you are that's cool. Carry on. But you should check out Jer. 10:2-4 and Matthew 15:9 and let me know what you decide do about the heathen tree in your living room.
Interesting factoid: the Christmas tree is another germano-celtic tradition. It was popularized in England (and the rest of the Empire) by Queen Victoria in the late 19th Century because her German husband, Prince Albert, liked that fresh pine scent so much that he just had to have one. Actually, it was a long standing tradition among Germanic peoples to bring the evergreen into the house in December as a symbol of life during the dark winter months. I'm glad Victoria was enough of a proto-environmentalist that having a tree in her home wasn't an affront to her English protestant propriety.
Interesting factoid: the Christmas tree is another germano-celtic tradition. It was popularized in England (and the rest of the Empire) by Queen Victoria in the late 19th Century because her German husband, Prince Albert, liked that fresh pine scent so much that he just had to have one. Actually, it was a long standing tradition among Germanic peoples to bring the evergreen into the house in December as a symbol of life during the dark winter months. I'm glad Victoria was enough of a proto-environmentalist that having a tree in her home wasn't an affront to her English protestant propriety.
Obviously kids are big part of the main event: the possibility and anticipation (not to mention the apprehension of being dragged to hell by horned dude with one foot and one hoof) adds a nostalgic tranquility to our bleak Canadian winters that keeps most people in good spirits until at least New Years'.
Pagan solstice rituals are awesome, but now that we have science it hardly seems worth celebrating the inevitable outcome of a little rocky planet with a tilted axis on an elliptical orbit around a medium-sized ball of burning space-gas. All the magic's gone out of it.
Okay. Maybe I should ask a simpler question. What do we all want out of Christmas? Presents? Turkey? Snow? How about a blanket-statement like... oh, I dunno... happiness? What makes you happy? Go find it, make it, buy it, just get your hands on it.
...and then give it to someone you love.
Holy crap does that ever feel good to do.
Happy Christmas everyone.
0 other voices:
Post a Comment