In most of Europe and many Christian countries,  November 1 (or the first Sunday after Pentecost, in Eastern Christianity) is a quiet holiday, known as “All Saints Day“, “Allerheiligen”, “All Hallows” or “Hallowmas”. The tradition can be traced back to the 8th Century.

Growing up, I never really cared for it much, except that it was of course a legal bank holiday, and all schools were closed. Today, since I have known a long list of people who have passed, I find the tradition quite beautiful. In many areas in Europe, people visit cemeteries and place lit candles and flowers on the graves of their loved ones. After dark, the entire cemetery may be bathed in the warm shine of thousands of candles.

Death is always a most vexing concept, isn’t it?

Yesterday, while visiting a “haunted” house for Halloween, I heard a wonderful poem by Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886).

(Note: Dickinson left several versions of this poem, and like many others, it probably did not have a title. An alternate version is posted here).

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then ’tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.

PS: A place I’d like to visit someday: The Emily Dickinson Museum

Reinhard Kargl

Journalist and media professional currently based in Los Angeles, California. Focusing on science and technology.

www.reinhardkargl.com

In the misty forests of the northern Alps, under cover of darkness, mysterious figures are making their rounds through the snow.

As he has been doing for many centuries on December 6, Saint Nicholas appears out of nowhere, to bring blessings and gifts to children. If they were good, that is. Bad children may receive a visit from someone else instead …

The amazing National Geographic photographer Carsten Peters had the good fortune to encounter Nikolaus (as he is known in German) and Krampus in Bavaria, which resulted in this wonderful image. It was featured in the December 2010 edition of National Geographic Magazine (“Visions of Earth, p. 12). Click to enlarge.

Saint Nicholas (also known as Nikolaos of Myra) was a third century monk and bishop. Many good deeds and miracles are attributed to this worthy man. He was particularly kind to children.

When I was a kid growing up in Europe (and perhaps because I was a rebellious one who usually identified with the underdog), I was always more interested in Saint Nicholas’ sinister companion and servant: the Krampus. While Nicholas represents everything that is kind and good, the Krampus is a bird of different feather. I kid you not — the Krampus is liable to make children (and sometimes adults too) wet their pants.

Perhaps you were not so good last year. The Krampus might administer a thorough lashing. If you are lucky, that is. He might also fling you over his shoulder and into his knapsack, and take you to places where you really don’t want to go.

Like many of us, Saint Nicholas also emigrated to the New World. But he did not fare well in America.

First, “Saint Nick” was stripped of his dark companion. In America, violence is something kids ought to watch on TV every day, but there’s little public acceptance of it in folk tales, fables and ancient stories. Christian holidays are supposed to be nice and sanitized – and mostly secular, so they can be sold to non-Christians as well. As a marketing tool, Christmas must not offend. It cannot be controversial, and it must not be too thought provoking. Next, Hollywood agents called for a name change. “More catchy and easier to pronounce, please! And drop the “Saint”, so that Protestant majority won’t be offended. How about Santa Claus?”

Then, because too much seriousness is bad for publicity, Hollywood producers admonished him to cheer up and smile for the cameras. And the outfit now had to be a brighter, flashier red.

Worst of all, Wall Street hired Santa as the official spokesman and promoter of “Christmas” cheer and consumerism. Increasingly frustrated, Santa gorged himself on American junk food for comfort, until he became grotesquely obese.

What a shame! Today, there are so many misbehaving children in America. And of course, these turn into nasty, ill-behaved adults. I propose that what America really needs is less Santa Claus … and more Krampus! Wouldn’t it be great?

I love old postcards, so here are a couple of images of greeting cards from the the early 20th Century. (Click to enlarge).

And so, should you hear a rap on your door late tonight, you might think twice about opening. Who might your visitor be? Saint Nicholas — or rather the Krampus?

Reinhard Kargl

Journalist and media professional currently based in Los Angeles, California. Focusing on science and technology.

www.reinhardkargl.com