Once extra, the ogre clan,
Has come across Iceland:
Stealing pots, spoons and bread,
And leaving items of their stead.
For (although they steal) the lads are true—
So (girls and boys) miss a shoe!
“Why is he like that?”
Said a young boy concerning the old man who had lived throughout the road from his household his complete life. There’s one thing traumatic to a toddler in having the eruptive pleasure of his “Merry Christmas!” met by the merciless, intentional silence of a scrooge-ian gaze.
“Oh,” grandma started, waving a hand. “Don’t feel bad, lad. He got eaten by the Jólakötturinn.”
The Jólakötturinn, or Yule Cat, is a folkloric creature that, based on Icelanders, eats those that don’t greet the tip of Christmas and the approaching of the brand new yr by carrying new garments. Like the Italian Befana, Russian Babushka, and German Frau Holle, who sweep away the dross of the earlier yr, the Yule Cat has a purifying and renewing position.
“Him?” Said the boy incredulously, furrowing his forehead, nonetheless trying throughout the road on the bent determine presently disappearing previous its entrance door. “But grandma, first of all, he’s not eaten. He’s alive and in one piece.”
You’ll appear simply as earlier than,
Its chunk will depart no gore.
You’ll look the identical to all,
But inside there’ll be a gap.
When the Yule Cat involves eat
A soul, he leaves the meat.
The boy paused, acknowledging that the Yule Cat-eating folks should be a type of metee-phors he’d been instructed about. Fine. Still, he pressed on for clarification, “But … he always wears new clothes!”
It was true that, for all his faults, the native scrooge was truly recognized for dressing nicely and was seldom seen in the identical ensemble twice whereas going about his errands.
“Actually, he’s been dressing the same year-in and year-out for a long time. He wasn’t that way when we were young … (don’t furrow your brow at that, lad … I’m not ancient). … But at some point, he went astray. Anyway, yes, the same old thoughts, the same old worries, the same old anger. … He’s been in the same clothes, in his mind, you see?” Grandma defined, per her technology’s behavior of treating kids like growing adults quite than silly ones.
The lad did see. And he felt dangerous for the old scrooge. But for now, the boy had extra urgent issues to take care of. The Yule Cat isn’t alone and shares the season with the 13 Yule Lads, the sons of the Yuletide Ogress, Grýla. Presently, the teen was anticipating the primary Yule Lads go to with its accompanying prank and current.
Through frozen cavernous openings in Iceland’s Dimmuborgir lava fields, dwells the Ogress Grýla along with her husband Leppalúði, along with 13 sons and a large pet cat, which yearly, at Christmas time, emerge to unfold the season’s cheer.
That is, in their very own particular approach.
Just because the German Krampus is supposed to scare kids into behaving on ache of being dragged away and eaten, so too was Grýla invoked by dad and mom for her supposed behavior of cooking naughty kids on Christmas. Her true, benevolent guise as a manifestation of that archetypal class to which Germany’s winter queen, Frau Holle, additionally belongs, nevertheless, has gained recognition in recent years. And with this modification, the ogress’ 13 sons have likewise reworked into pleasant, festive imps.
But to at least one just like the scrooge, these 13 might play a special sort of recreation totally.
On the morning of the primary day of Christmas, he was woke up by loud noises in his kitchen. “It’s the townsfolk’s boys, just as dirty and twice as hungry as swine! They’ve heard I stock good liquor and wine!”
But after operating down the steps, he noticed that there was nobody there. All his alcohol was gone, however not a soul was having enjoyable. But then, when he turned to depart the room, for a second he noticed the reflection of a troll within the window, sneering at him.
And so it was; someday the garments he’d purchased for journey however by no means went have been strung up in his closet, inexplicably.
One day his old phonebook, with the numbers of staff he had mistreated, was sitting by his phone.
One day, a canine collar, soiled and gnawed at, was within the backyard. And this one chilled him, for it had belonged to his spouse’s canine, whom he at all times refused to walk and finally gave away.
His financial institution assertion he dreamt about: a ghostly banner on his grave. And he himself, a pig with a snout, sniffing out what has no grace to avoid wasting.
One day, he was locked out of his home. The keys have been gone, and on account of his pleasure, he wouldn’t communicate to anybody.
The subsequent day, he dreamt of himself struck by frostbite, however then the keys appeared in his pocket.
The subsequent day, all his doorways and home windows have been shut. And wouldn’t open, it doesn’t matter what. And when he heard his neighbours outdoors, he wished for somebody in whom to confide.
Church bells lastly broke the spell, however the subsequent day he caught a glimpse of hell. For when he went outdoors to buy, for a second he was caught up within the phantasm that the city was empty, and each soul disappeared “except me!”
The telephone rang as soon as, and he did hear the cracking voice of his late father. It turned out to be a telemarketer. But no, it was simply the identical as his father’s voice, “whose funeral I never went to …”
On the final day, upon awakening, he noticed the {photograph} of his spouse, whom he had divorced a lifetime in the past, or so it appeared. “But how has it gotten out of storage? And why is the frame so well polished?”
Finally, on the evening of the twelfth day of Christmas, there got here the thirteenth Yule Lad with an ominous candle, trying as if he would possibly eat it at any second and snuff the sunshine out ceaselessly. This one he may see, although he spoke not, and got here not into the scrooge’s home however stood silent and grave outdoors its property line. And with him, towering, was the frightful Yule Cat.
“Have we played this game long enough, good scrooge? Thirteen years, I think it’s been, eh?”
“Thirteen. … Yes. I remember. Thirteen to the year since I spent my first Christmas alone … after I … after her. Why are you here? Have you come to eat me?”
The Yule Cat shook its head.
“No … no. Nothing like that. I don’t eat fleshy things. In truth, I don’t really eat souls either.” The monster patted its stomach with one paw. “Very indigestive things, you know? Not like human regret, resentment, and the like. Those I burn right up. But a man’s soul, well … it just sits there. I’ve had yours in my belly since that first, lonely Christmas. Do you want it back?”
“Don’t tease me, creature!”
“Well then. I’ll take that as a yes. And all you have to do is give me something in return.” It pointed a paw at him, “that which you’ve been using to plug the hole.”
“I don’t understand.”
The thirteenth Yule Lad now spoke for the primary time. “Perhaps I can shed some light,” he stated, extending the hand through which he held his candle, revealing a tar-like blackness the place the scrooge’s chest ought to have been.
“There isn’t room enough for both,” sighed the enormous cat. “What do you say, good scrooge? Let’s be done with our game. Your heart, for your hatred. Your soul for all that bitterness.”
And so it was that on that yr,
Scrooge let go of bitter concern.
The Yule Cat ate up the person’s hate,
And Scrooge’s soul reversed its destiny.
