Behind Door #6: Grüß von Krampus!

Greetings from Krampus, St. Nicholas’s vaguely satanic-looking, central European henchman!

Sometime last year, my sister Mars got her hands on a book of mostly Austrian and Hungarian postcards from sometime around the end of the 19th century, all of which featured Krampus. A little over a year ago, Mars sent out her first Krampus cards.

With his furry pelt, hooves, horns, and a tongue to make Gene Simmons envious, Krampus seemed at home on Halloween, but Mars soon dubbed him “a creature for all seasons” and began sending out appropriately themed Krampus cards for other holidays. Last Christmas, the cards included a brief note about his origins:

Certain tradition holds that jolly old St Nick had a helper—more accurately, a henchman—Krampus.

Good little ones could expect happy gifts like new wooden clogs, iPods, felt dollies, Xboxes, and more. Ah yes! Anything for those sweet kiddie-pies!

But OH, the very naughty children! What could they expect? Nothing so benign as a lump of coal in their stockings or a gift certificate to JC Penny’s! Oh no! With his birch switch Krampus would come for them. If the child had only misbehaved, they might merely be disciplined with that wicked switch, but those who were truly bad had a different, more terrible fate in store for them. Krampus would carry them away never ever to be seen again. Alas! If only they had eaten all their sprouts!

Every December 5th, the toodly folk of Salzburg, Austria still celebrate Krampuslauf or the Running of the Krampus. What a delightful and instructional spectacle it must be!

Not content to merely wander the Vienna woods, Krampus has arrived in the US. Even as I type this, San Franciscans are celebrating KrampusNacht.

Behind Door #5: Curses Foiled Again

Thanks to the always entertaining and enlightening crew at Language Log for pointing me to this article on Quebecois curse words in today’s Washington Post. Apparently when French Canadians feel the need to swear, they most often resort to religious paraphernalia. Chalices, tabernacles and wafers all figure prominently.

It’s funny how another culture’s epithets can sound innocent or even cutesy to foreign ears. Like Quebecois cursing, Swedish cursing also takes a decidedly religious bent — although Swedes are more likely to invoke the dark side.

Shame, the devil! Devilish devil in hell! Satan!

When I first managed to translate these common Swedish swear words, all I could think was that they sounded vaguely Amish.