3 Things in November

This is the third installment in my “3 Things” project. This month: a scary poem, a giant goat, and a wish. Good luck finding something worthwhile.

Santa Muerte

I’m sorry, some of you won’t like this, but Xmas is coming so it’s now or never.

Several years ago, I heard a BBC Christmas show where Peter Capaldi¹ recited Henry Treece’s creepy poem “The Magic Wood”. It was splendid, but I didn’t understand, and still don’t, why it was chosen for a Xmas show. It is scary, and haunting, and has naught to do with Christmas.

If you want a truly scary Xmas poem, then try this one by the Indian poet Dom Moraes. It’s called Santa Claus.

His sullen kinsmen, by the winter sea,
Said he was holy: then, to his surprise,
They stripped him, flayed him, tied him to a tree
Sliced off his tongue, and burnt out both his eyes.

The trampling reindeer smelt him where he lay,
Blood dyeing his pelt, his beard white with rime,
Until he lurched erect and limped away,
Winter on winter, forward into time.

Then to new houses squat in brick he came
And heard the children's birdlike voices soar
In three soft syllables: they called his name.

The chimney shook: the children in surprise
Stared up as their invited visitor
Lifted his claws above them, holes for eyes.

Now that is terrifying.

Christmas traditions in many cultures include an anti-Santa² who punishes naughty children while Santa³ doles out the good stuff. Moraes’ poem is different, because the evil one is Santa himself. There is no suggestion that he can be benevolent when visiting well-behaved boys and girls: He is just frightening, and that is a devastating thought⁴.

An Xmas battle

Forget Xmas trees, stockings, reindeer, sleighs, even Santa himself. Here is an truly unique Xmas tradition: the semi-regular trashing of the Gävle Goat.

SInce 1966, the town of Gävle in Sweden have erected a giant straw Christmas goat⁵ in the centre of town. And almost every year, the forces of darkness manage to destroy it; often, but not exclusively, by burning it to the ground. Some years it is “smashed to pieces”, in 1976 it was “destroyed by a greaser car”, and last year it was pecked to pieces by jackdaws (becuase the straw contained more seeds than usual). You can read the year-by-year fate of the Goat on the Gävle tourism site. It is hilarious.

The resilient folks in Gävle are trying again this year, and have posted a photo of the 2024 target on their Instagram. At time of this writing, all is well, but I think it is safe to say that there are nefarious actors who are, even now, scheming to set the thing alight.

View this post on Instagram

It is a Manichean struggle that you can follow in real time on the Gävle Goat webcam.

I’ve had enough

If I could wish for anything, it would be to never hear another word about Taylor Swift. That’s it; that’s all I have to say on the topic.

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1. The 12th Doctor. IYKYK ↩︎
2. See Krampus, Knecht Ruprecht, or Père Fouettard. ↩︎
3. The gift-giver goes by several aliases, like St Nick, Kris Kringle or Sinterklaas. But interestingly, Father Christmas, who looks a lot like Santa, was just a personification of the mid-winter festive season; he didn’t dispense toys to anyone, naughty or nice. ↩︎
4. Even scarierer is the possibility that the terrifying one is both Santa and Jesus Christ. The poem’s opening lines seem to suggest that. ↩︎
5. Xmas goats are a thing in Sweden. Father Christmas often used to ride a goat. ↩︎