The Urban Myth of Santa Claus

by
Luna Lindsey

Long ago, I wrote a comedic essay on the parallels between Santa Claus and Satan.  I was surprised to find quite a few things in common, though I was really only joking.  I finished the piece "...and the North Pole is as cold as hell!"

Back then, I didn't even know that "Nick" or "Old Nick" is also another word for The Devil in some parts of the world.  It is also the root of the name for several types of fairies in different regions (neck, nykk, nissie, nixsie, nyx, etc.  This itself may have come from the Roman "nymph".)  When we accept that many of our Christmas traditions have pagan roots, it's easy to see where all the confusion might have come from.

I've studied a lot of world mythologies this year.  And in doing so, I have taken a step back from my own culture's mythologies and seen it anew.  To us, we are a rational culture which has abandoned actual belief in strange tales of gnomes with funny names who spin straw into gold and gods with hammers who strike lightning out of the sky.  What silly nonsense!  Yet we have a large number of our own myths, that when viewed from outside, are just as silly.  When it comes to Christmas, those myths are borrowed from the same kinds of people who believed in giants and gods who live on Mt. Olympus.  And we find we are no different.

Think about it.  We cut down a tree and put it in the living room and place a star on top.  We hang socks from the fireplace.  Then we place cookies and milk out all night for a fat man in a red suit, who will come down the chimney at midnight and fill the socks with treats, then pull brightly colored packages (made by elves) out of his sack and place them under the tree.  But only for children he has judged worthy.  Then he will climb back up the chimney, hop on a flying snow-craft pulled by a team of reindeer, and fly back to his home in the North Pole.

If you hadn't grown up with that story, you would laugh, and say, "People really believed that crap?"  And yet parents tell the tale to their children as if it were fact, take their children to the "marketplace" to sit on his lap, then stay up on Christmas night to enact the ritual.  We put statues and images of Santa and all his followers all over our houses and marketplaces and sing songs about him.  Revealing the secret to children is taboo.

Have we really changed all that much?  In the future, when antiquities scholars will tell of our God and our Demigods, Santa will be highest on that list, akin to Thor in his second-place status next to Odin.  He will be the god associated with giving, kindness, children, winter, snow, the cardinal direction of "north", and the color "red".  The Easter Bunny and cupid and leprechauns and ghosts will be right up there, too, and academics will debate whether we held them as gods or animistic spirits.  For all our science, we haven't really left our myths behind.

Everything about the Santa myth is a fairytale.  With actual fairies.  It's so ingrained in our culture that we often miss it.  But all the elements are there:

• Magic.
• Elves.
• Flying.
• Leaving out food to appease him.
• Inexplicable gift giving (remember the shoemakers elves?)
• Time dilation to get around the world in one night.

Fairies themselves were a pagan belief, existing long before Christianity.  In an effort to get people to stop worshiping false gods, the Catholic church literally demonized the fae folk, turning them into devils, the very minions of Satan.  Hence, when studying fairytales, I've often seen "devil" being synonymous with "elf".  The original horned gods (often with the cloven hoofs of goats) were Pan, Puck, and the satyr.  But the devil himself, once the imageless antithesis of God, was given a makeover to resemble these formerly-benign gods, to remind people where their loyalties should lie.

Given the great distances back then, words evolved over time.  The nixies became nykks which became "Nick" (the devil), which became "to nick something" (meaning to steal).  Saint Nicholas' name is most likely a coincidence, but he was actually from Turkey waaaay back in 270CE.  He didn't wear a fur lined coat at all, but he did give things away, year round.  Most notably, he saved women from prostitution by giving them dowries and prevented children from being butchered by cannibals by raising them from the dead.  Not a very familiar image when thinking of Father Christmas...

But we are pretty sure that the Germanic peoples associated Saint Nick with the god Odin for some reason.  In Odin we see a more familiar figure: one who was celebrated at the pagan winter holiday of Yule with the practice of leaving carrots outside in boots for his flying horse to eat.  In exchange he left treats for the children.

It is easy to imagine the Church trying to re-label the pagan nykks as devils, and their god Odin as the devil, and them hearing the name Saint Nicholas, and then deciding it was ok to celebrate him during Yule, and since he was a "Nick", and so was Odin, and they both gave things away, then it was all one and the same.

Maybe.  That last bit was just a wild guess, but in seeing how Roman nymphs evolved into European fairies in the first place, it's easy to imagine how these things can happen.

We can read recently-written stories about vampires and werewolves who wander among us, but few, if any of those will achieve the status of myth: beliefs about how the world is, or how we'd like it to be, that are passed along from parent to child, slowly evolving through the ages, until no one can quite remember just exactly where it came from.  When we think of urban fantasy, we can't forget that the old stories are just as alive today as they always were; the living, breathing spirit in the body of our culture.

Mind Control, Mystical Mesmerism, and Other Magical Compulsions

What is mind control?  We love watching our heroines lock eyes with the vampire and immediately come under his thrall.  Or our hero robotically stumbling to perform an act he simply cannot bear, fighting himself and the foreign voice inside his head. 

It is a common theme, these various methods through which a major or minor character is magically compelled to act against his or her will. 

In the real world, mind control takes a lot more than magic, and a lot less than a hypnotist's pocket watch.  The treatment of this topic from a scientific point of view would take much more than single blog post.  Believe me, I've tried to fit it into a couple of posts, and could only cover the basics.  In real life, psychological manipulation is not all-consuming, and it requires a long process to win trust, appeal to ideals, give the experience of group euphoria, and then slowly build a trap of fears, thought terminating cliches, and other mental tricks to keep the person from listening to reason.  As difficult as it sounds, it is also appallingly common, and of course people who have been coercively persuaded don't even know it.  That's sort of the point.

In fantasy, it's a lot easier.  And much more glamorous, if you pardon the pun.  Our villains have the advantage of magical prowess, so they can cut right to the chase.  Unlike real life, their powers are all-consuming.  They work 100% of the time, without fail, on anyone they choose.  They can make people go against core beliefs, without the messy complications, or years of preparation.

We are all familiar with the black and white celluloid of Bela Lugosi compelling Renfield to leave the window open, the nurse to remove the protective wolfbane from around Mina's neck, and of him luring Mina herself out into the garden for his final bite. His power, like that of many other vampires, is part-magic, part-seduction... there is an theme that deep down, the victim wants to succumb.  Something about the monster is irresistible.  She already craves that which is forbidden, and the vampire uses this to his advantage.

Many vampire worlds contain another form of compulsory magic: the blood bond.  Three sips of the vampire's blood, or in some cases, just one, is enough to completely take over your mind.  The vampire now has a hold of you.  He has earned your unquestioning loyalty and can command you to do anything.  Even if you started the plot as his sworn enemy, it no longer matters.  Your will is his.

The werewolf equivalent is pack dynamics.  The Alpha has the magic ability to command and control all members of his pack, whether they like it or not.  This is much less about seduction, and more about brute force.  Perhaps you want to obey, because the pack leader is admirable, or out of a sense of tradition or duty.  But when push comes to shove, none of that matters.  Pack magic trumps all.

For the human villain, spells seem to do the trick.  Themes of sympathetic magic are common in modern fiction.  A witch or wizard can obtain a personal item or make a symbolic image, and through this, gain control over the victim's body, mind, or pain centers.  These myths originate from a number of traditions, including European folk tales and the African practice of Vodun (often fictionalized as "Voodoo").  All it takes is a lock of hair, a lost button, or a captured tear to turn another human being into a puppet.

The Celtic peoples had a concept of part-oath, part-taboo, part-compulsion, called a geas or geis (pronounced something like "gesch").  A certain behavior would be proscribed or prescribed, and should that person fail, a dire consequence would ensue.  A king could demand such a geas to ensure loyality from a warrior, or an old hag could use it as a curse.  It could even be used as a means of protection, if for example, the person is compelled to never die except under very particular, supposedly impossible circumstances.  In the famous Irish tale of Cú Chulainn, the hero is bound by geas to never eat dog meat.  He has a second geas (actually a part of Celtic culture) compelling him to always accept hospitality.  His enemies used these to create a double bind and defeat him.  He is offered dog meat, and being forced to accept it, he becomes weakened enough to be defeated in battle.

A love potion can make anyone fall in love, which is quite an act of compulsion, especially since love itself is arguably a form of compulsory magic.  A love potion is created by a scorned admirer to force the object of her affection to requite.  In the typical tale, the potion backfires, causing the subject to fall in love with a squirrel, a rival, or "a cop down on 34th and Vine".

Faeries have it easy when it comes to mind control.  Whenever the mortal wanders into the faerie glen, or stumbles upon the faerie banquet in the basement, you can always bet they will be tempted into eating the fairy food.  After that, there is no escape. 

Originally, the zombie was another form of magical mind control.  While most modern zombies are dead or diseased people acting on their own with a built-in, single-minded compulsion for brains or killing, the original zombie was an undead puppet of a magical shaman.  This interpretation lives on in our metaphorical language, when we refer to TV viewers or mall shoppers as "zombies".

Demonic possession is perhaps the most terrifying form of supernatural mind control.  In this case, the monster lives inside the victim, mind and body given over entirely to the demon's will.

Resisting mind control in real life involves a constant skeptical mind and persistent mistrust of even the nicest people.  In fiction, mind control is often inescapable.  When dealing with faeries or magical tricksters, the best bet is to never agree to anything.  And never eat the fairy food!  Or drink any suspicious potions labeled "#9".  When dealing with vampires, the best bet is to immediately deploy a wooden stake.  Wards are said to combat sympathetic magic, or you can simply become OCD about never letting your possessions out of your site (lest you become one yourself).  Religion is said to combat demons, and if you never give your soul to a bokor, you probably won't become a zombie.

But when it comes to resisting mind control, magical or otherwise, perhaps Jennifer Connelly said it best when facing down the Goblin King:

For my will is as strong as yours, my kingdom as great. You have no power over me.

What are your favorite mind control powers in urban fantasy?

Luna Lindsey

The Science of Faeries (Part III)

In The Science of Faeries Parts I and II I discussed the historical background of the science of faeries, recounted a fairy sighting of my own, and listed a number of theories about what faeries really are, be they hoaxes, folk memories of long-lost tribes, or real creatures.

In this final part, I will discuss what Evans-Wentz called the "Psychological Theory", and what I prefer to call the "Psychic Theory" to avoid confusion with theories that discuss the subconscious mind.  At the time "The Fairy Faith of Celtic Countries" was written, the words "psychic" and "psychological" were often synonymous.

Evans-Wentz spent many years traveling the Celtic countries and cataloging their beliefs and fairy sightings.  He noted the similarities between them all, and concluded that there is another world, a forth dimension.  Beings who exist in that world cannot be seen with physical eyes, but can be seen with psychical eyes.  Seers, those who practice the art of seeing, or who have a natural talent for it, can easily see these forms.  Non-seers, in the presence of such a being, may sense it in some way, beyond sight.  Seeking some explanations for this, our imaginations will go to work.  Our minds will offer up some vision, based on our context, our cultural frame of reference, and thus we will "see" a fairy without truly seeing it.  According to Evans-Wentz:

The visualization of the non-seer is a makeshift, a psycho-physical reaction to a purely psychical stimulus.

and:

It is that all such apparitional appearances ... are equally due to a telepathic force exerted by an agency independent of the percipent.  This outside force to whom it is thus transmitted, and causes him to project out of some part of his own consciousness (which part may have passed over into the subconsciousness) a visualized image already impressed there.  The image has natural affinity or correspondence with the outside stimulus which arouses it.

Thus the creature you see will be based in large part upon the culture of the region you were raised, but may also have something to do with the nature of the creature itself.  While looking at the same fairy, a Scottsman would see a redcap.  A troll for the Norwegians.  The Welsh would see a coblynau, and in Brittany (an area of northern France) would rank higher in corrigan sightings.  Leaving the Celtic countries, an Arab might see a djinn, an Inuit may see an ijiraq, and in Japan, they would see a kappa.

All of these creatures, and many hundreds more, look and act very different from one another, and yet ofttimes their behaviors are described as the same: Capricious, likely to steal away children and replace them with one of their own, likely to mess with your sense of time, equally able to curse or bless you on a whim, and so on.

In some cases, Evans-Wentz concludes that these are nature's memories, an energy residue of some past event, that can be re-witnessed or sensed and seen in our own way.  But he is quick to point out that most fairy sightings seem to be of autonomous beings.  On this, he states:

Fairies exist, because in all essentials they appear to be the same as the intelligent forces now recognized by psychical researchers, be they thus collective units of consciousness like what William James has called 'soul-stuff', or more individual units.

And given the ubiquitous fairyland stories, he concludes that "fairyland exists as a super-normal state of consciousness into which men and women may enter temporarily in dreams, trances, or in various ecstatic conditions."  Our eye for dreams and religious experiences is thus the same as our eye for fairies.

I began this series by stating that I am a skeptic.  I still am.  It is more likely that fairies are a folk-memory of a long forgotten tribe that is sometimes perpetuated by hoaxes and hallucination.  I am as willing to believe that my own fairy-sighting was the product of an overactive imagination as it was a projection of my mind onto a being of energy to explain what I could sense but could not see.

Nevertheless, the latter explanation holds a certain magic, a meaning that goes beyond the happy accident that is evolved human life.  Part of me wants to believe... Do you?

Luna Lindsey 

The Science of Faeries (Part II)

In The Science of Faeries Part I, I discussed the historical background of the study of fairies and fairy lore.  As promised, I will now discuss the major theories and schools of thought about what faeries are.  

But first, I will recount the time I saw a fairy.  It was the magical summer of 1997, the best time of my life, and the worst time of my life.  I was going through a number of hardships, but I also had a great set of friends.  We had well-developed imaginations, and even though we all came from different religious backgrounds and had different beliefs, each of us passionately believed in the unseen.  My most unexplainable experiences (both positive and scary) happened that year.

We were adventuring in Eastern Washington, north of our home town, and decided to visit Palouse Falls.  We hiked above the falls, where the small river has carved a beautiful canyon.  The very rocks seemed to cry out in joy at our presence. We saw hornets as long as my index finger, and one of the boys cut his hand on basalt shale, but that didn't stop us from trekking along the railroad tracks, down the long slope, and into the canyon.

Here the river broke into several smaller streams, forming a microcosm of mini-canyons and tiny waterfalls.  I stood at the bottom of one of these tiny falls, and that's when I saw it: a tiny bridge spanning the gap over the water, and a 2 inch winged fairy sitting on the arch.

How I saw it is difficult to explain.  I only half saw it with my eyes.  The other part of me knew it wasn't there, and that I merely imagined it.  It was as it my mind projected it outward until it existed.  Another way to put it is that it seemed as if something was there, but the only way I could perceive it was with my imagination.  It was not light that hit my eyes, but some other form of energy that I both sensed and created in a feedback loop of viewer/creator. 

Sound crazy?  When I read Evans-Wentz's "The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries", that is exactly how many others described it, 100 years ago. I also saw similar descriptions of modern-day fairy sightings in the documentary The Fairy Faith (2000).

Does that mean I believe in faeries?  Maybe.  I'm not sure.  I am a skeptic, after all.  But I do know that something important happened that day.  Even if it was all in my head, that's meaningful.

Which leads us to the theories.  Some of these are scientific, some pseudo-scientific, and some flat out religious.  Listed in reverse order of Occam's Razor (which states that the simplest explanation fitting the facts is most-likely to be true):

The Materialist Theory - Fairies are physically real beings that live under hills or in forests.

The Theological or Hades Theory - In the context of Christianity, fairies are real, and they are are demons, fallen angels or the unjudged souls of the dead.

The Psychic or "Psychological" Theory - Evans-Wentz's favorite.  Fairies are some form of energy-beings that we can sense but not "see", so we perceive them by projecting our expectations.  An Irishman would see a selkie.  An Arab would see a djinn.  Someone from India may see a deva.

The Pygmy Theory - Fairies are a folk-memory of an undiscovered prehistoric diminutive race that were driven out of Celtic lands by invading European Homo Sapiens.

The Mythological/Druid Theories - Fairies are a folk-memory of the Celtic pagan gods or the Druids.  They are a way of talking about subjects otherwise censored by the encroaching culture of Christianity.

The Animistic/Naturalistic Theory - Fairies are a cultural remnant of pre-monotheistic beliefs in animistic spirits as a way to explain the world, and/or a subconscious projection of animistic symbols a la Carl Jung.

The Pathological Theory - Fairies are entirely imagined, hallucinated, a result of misfiring neurons or diseased minds.

The Delusion and Imposture (Fraud) Theory - As with mediums and psychics, those who claim to see fairies are out to hoax us for fun and profit.

Evans-Wentz does not discuss all of these (not all had been postulated in his time), but he does rule out several: The Pygmy Theory, The Mythological and Druid Theories, Naturalistic Theory, and Delusion/Imposture Theory.  He favors what he called the "Psychological Theory", which I call the "Psychic Theory" to avoid any confusion with Jung's Archetypes and Collective Unconscious.

He spends a good deal of time discussing this theory, so I'd like to spend more time on that.  Stay tuned for the Science of Faeries Part III in two weeks!

Luna Lindsey 

The Science of Faeries (Part I)

The world is not only stranger than we suppose, it is stranger than we can suppose. -- J.B.S. Haldane, evolutionary biologist

The "science of faeries". An oxymoron? 

Not really. 

Don't get me wrong.  I am quite the skeptic, a big fan of James Randi and Christopher Hitchens.  All of this is fantasy, right?  The only scientists who believe in fairies are pseudo-scientists.  

But there was a time in the past when credible scholars did give credence to the possibility of the existence of faeries.

It was the time of rampant mysticism, the revival of the occult, the heyday of séance and mesmerism.  Nikola Tesla performed feats of magic with electricity, letting a million volts arc visibly through his body in public displays.  Science fiction dawned with writings about living monsters being created from dead tissue and explorers finding giants and dinosaurs far beneath the earth.  (Could one argue that Urban Fantasy was the original form of science fiction?)

During this era, almost nothing was known about the realities of our world.  Knowledge we now take for granted was merely conjecture.  The airplane had not been invented.  The nature and composition of the moon and the planets were pure speculation; Venus was thought to be populated by intelligent life.  Penicillin had not yet been discovered, nor were there adequate means for storing food long term, nor were phones common, nor did electric appliances exist.  It was a time of discovery and invention.  Wide-eyed scientists left no stone unturned in looking for the next big breakthrough.

This was the zeitgeist during which scholars legitimately studied faeries.  

Some of the most credible people of the time, including Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes) participated in fairy investigations, and the now-defunct Fairy Investigation Society had members like Walt Disney.  No one knew and few suspected that the Cottingley Fairies were a hoax.

Anthropologist Walter Evans-Wentz thankfully took the time to travel all the Celtic countries around the turn of the 20th Century.  He gathered the dying and complex lore of a people who genuinely believed in fairies.  They lived their daily lives with superstitions that acknowledged the pervasive and ever-present fae, the way today people operate with knowledge that the internet exists.  Set out the milk, make a sigil before milking the cows, do not refer to them by name lest they hear.  That's the hill where the fair folk keep their fort, and do not disturb that clump of trees.

These were not tales that begin "Once upon a time in a land far away," but rather "I saw the good people and hundreds besides me saw them fighting in the sky" which was said to cause the 1847 famine, and "my husband...often saw the gentry going down the hill to the [sea] strand."

These stories are documented exhaustively in Evans-Wentz's book, "The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries".  They are accompanied by a number of scholarly theories and conclusions drawn from the author's experience and these first-hand accounts.

In Part II of The Science of Faeries, I will describe the major theories and schools of thought that explain the gentle folk.  Some are more scientific than others.  Of course I will detail Evans-Wentz's favored theory, which is my own personal favorite, which I partially base my stories on.  I will also describe my own encounter with a fairy. 

Luna Lindsey 

The Science of Faeries Part II and Part III...