We all know that Santa Claus isn't real. We get to a point as children where we know he's not real. But then we grow up, and get to a point where we think, well, Santa Claus is real. We've known about him all our lives. Every year, we hear about this character. What is that character? What is that power we all understand? Every generation has their own version of it, but it's real. Santa Claus doesn't have to be physically real, because he's emotionally real.
I don't know Grant Morrison's exact criteria for considering Santa Claus to be a "real idea," since one can endlessly debate how much "reality" one can find in human emotions. Nevertheless, I think I can identify one connotation Morrison does not imply with his piquant phrase.
There's a long tradition of euhmerism in popular science fiction and fantasy, where some relatively ordinary person gets confounded with a god or legendary figure, which is supposed to "explain" the origin of the mythic entity. In the seven-part "origin story,"Morrison never actually says that his Nordic strongman is actually the only "Santa Klaus" in existence, so he's not invested in the euhemerism fallacy. Further, online references assert that later KLAUS stories introduce other versions of the Santa archetype that co-exist with the starring character. I tend to think that this extrapolation was Morrison's Christmas-themed version of "The Batmen of All Nations" concept that appeared throughout his BATMAN tenure.
Klaus's origin unfolds in media res, starting with the titular character arriving, for the first time in many years, at the walled medieval city of Grimsvig, during the winter festival of Yuletime. (One online reference claims that the story takes place in the 16th century, but Morrison sedulously avoids references to the specific history, just as he avoids tying his hero to overt Christian themes.) He appears to be an ordinary trapper, coming to town to sell the skins of the beasts he caught. Klaus soon finds that the ruling powers of Grimsvig have turned to evil ways (though when one sees his backstory, the reader may wonder why he didn't expect something of this sort.) Not only do the city-guards confiscate his wares without recompense, they strike a child for playing with a stone, for the city-ruler Baron Magnus has forbidden toys.
Klaus's outrage doesn't win him any friends. The guards, not content just to beat him down and toss him back onto the wilderness, decide that they're going to hunt the wild man, whom at least one guard deems to be some sort of werewolf. And possibly that one guard had an acute sense of smell, for when the hunters overtake their quarry, they're routed by Klaus's wolf friend Lilli. Klaus and Lilli take refuge at an isolated cabin. Klaus plays his flute to take his mind of the unfortunate children of Grimsvig, and he experiences a weird psychedelic trip, possibly brought on by his accidentally summoning a group of strange spirits. Under the influence of the spirits, Klaus carves a sackful of toys for the Grimsvig kids, without even being aware of so doing.
The first issue also introduces the sinister Baron Magnus, his wife Dagmar, and their child Jonas, though the only one given much character is the boy, who wants all the children in town to be deprived because nothing satisfies him. But while Jonas pouts and Dagmar suffers for knowing what a Scrooge she's married, Klaus returns to Grimsvig, penetrates its defenses and begins leaving toys for the local kids. After Baron Magnus takes some of the toys to his castle, Dagmar sees one and recognizes in it the craftsmanship of her former lover Klaus. In due time one learns that Klaus had been a city-guard in earlier years, but Magnus framed him for killing Dagmar's father, after which Klaus was abandoned to die in the snows while Dagmar married Magnus on the rebound.
Issue #3 expands on Magnus's cruelty, showing that he treats the adult men of the town no better than their children, relentlessly working them to death in the coal mines. Magnus's real purpose for the mining is to provide sacrifices to a subterranean demon. This entity is never named, but some references claim that he's a revised version of The Krampus, but one who wants to devour children rather than just punishing them. (The Krampus and Klaus represent opposite attitudes toward children, one believing that no children are innocent, while the other asserts that they all are.) There's one brief scene of a congregation at a Christian church, though the priest just pontificates about "salvation" and shows no will to oppose Magnus's cruel treatment of the people. During this time Klaus continues to make unsanctioned visits to Grimsvig, playing merry pranks, such as packing snow around a loutish guard named Olav so that he looks like a snowman. (Possibly a FROZEN in-joke?) Issue #4 fills in the backstory and somewhat reconciles Klaus and Dagmar, but Baron Magnus has a plan to trap "Santa" with a letter from his not-entirely-willing son Jonas.
Klaus tries to encourage the miners to rebel, but his kryptonite is children. He escapes Magnus's trap, but not without wounds. After one child betrays him, another succors him, taking him out of town to Klaus's hidden refuge. But this provides the "Santa" with only temporary respite, for Magnus and his men overtake Klaus once again. Like many a comics-villain, Magnus leaves the hero in dire straits rather than simply killing him, and so of course the hero escapes this peril as well. Magnus lures the children of Grimsvig for a feast, but only to fatten them up for the consumption of the Krampus. Thus the stage is set for a major battle between the good spirit of Yuletime and his diametrical opposite.
Though Magnus is damned for his efforts to control the spirits of his subjects, among other crimes, Jonas is allowed to reform despite his father's influence, reinforcing a theme of redemption that is, as I noted earlier, not specifically Christian. Though the majority of Dan Mora's panels emphasize the barbarism of medieval Scandinavia, he excels whenever Morrison's script calls on the artist to depict the wild, abstract shapes of the spirit domain, particularly in the above-cited psychedelic "trip." I may end up saving some of the later KLAUS outings as "presents" for myself in future Xmas posts.
No comments:
Post a Comment