Yeah, this is the guy -- the right jolly old elf, dropping coins down chimneys for the kids to find before they kindle the morning's fires. Or maybe tossing coins into their stockings, hung by the chimney to dry. Or maybe tossing coins to a particular family to prevent the dad from selling his daughters out of impoverished desperation. Or calling on his reindeer to dash away as they bring toys to good boys and girls.
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| The Real Saint Nick? |
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| The Real Saint Nick? |
There are lots of legends, and of course the legend morphs into Santa Claus, which then takes on bizarre mutations that can only come from the synergism of America's cynically corporate sentimentalism. The Santa Claus we know could resurrect three murdered boys who had been pickled in brine to hide the bodies (something that Saint Nicholas of legend did), but there would have to be talking mice and cocoa and snowmen and spunky little girls involved. Santa Claus would not have wasted much time at the Council of Nicea (something that Nicholas of Myra almost certainly attended) unless it was to tell them all that doctrine was pointless and they were missing the Magic of Christmas. And of course the magic has something to do with 70% of the GDP, but I'd best stop here before I begin ranting.
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| The Real Saint Nick, per Thomas Nast |
It is also the feast of
Majoricus the Martyr, about whom I wrote last year. I'm still loving the name, though I could do without the title.
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