A few weeks ago I expressed the view that Christmas music makes me unjoyful. Several people suggested I was a Santa-hatted Grinch, a spoil sport, a grump, or all three rolled into one. I’m not chastened, but I am explaining my reasons.
Reason # 1: Fatigue. You might have noticed that Thanksgiving has pretty much disappeared from the holiday hype machine. That’s weird because it’s the least controversial holiday we have–no battling faith systems, wars, or commercialism. Because there’s no pause between Halloween and Christmas, we start hearing Christmas music in stores well before the end of the October sugar rush. It’s bad enough the days are growing shorter; I don’t even want to think of dashing through the snow before I’ve finished raking leaves.
Reason # 2 is that I’m sick of hearing the same old/same old year after year. Have you ever sat in a church pew and wondered if there were any hymns written after the 18th century? Most Christmas carols aren’t quite that bad, but they’re close. “Jingle Bell Rock?” Are you kidding me? It dates from 1957 and if I want rock from that era, I’ll queue The Everly Brothers! “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus?” Country cornball from 1952. “Silver Bells?” Two years earlier still. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?” 1949. A majority of the religious tunes: “Away in a Manger,” “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” “Little Town of Bethlehem,” etc.–come from the 19th century or earlier. I’d say let’s modernize the genre except…
Reason # 3: Schmatz. Christmas songs from pop and rock stars is the biggest affront to the ears since elevator music. I almost lost it when Dylan put out a holiday album, but my gag reflexes engage no matter who does them: Andrea Bocelli, Mary J Blige, Mariah Carey, Bon Jovi, Nora Jones, Carrie Underwood…. It gets even worse when a celebrity such as Kelly Clarkson or Cher tries to write a new Christmas song destined not to become a classic. Just. Don’t. Those make me go full airsickness bag.
Reason # 4: Faux Comfort. Despite stated beliefs in innovation and newness, most Americans thrive on familiarity and repetition. They certainly don’t want anything that pricks the comfort bubble, which is why songs such as Gordon Lightfoot’s “Circle of Steel” or Joni Mitchell’s “River” are not among their most-played compositions. Lines such as, “Deck the Halls was the song they sang/In the flat next door where they shout all day/She tips her gin bottle back till it’s gone,” or, “It’s coming on Christmas/They’re cutting down the trees/They’re putting up reindeer/Singing songs of joy and peace/I wish I had a river/I could skate away on” do indeed burst imaginary nostalgia trips. No wonder legendary editor Peter De Vries once commented, “Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.”
Reason # 5: The Forgotten Man. One thing Christmas carols are not about is the birth of Jesus. December 25 was a crock from the get-go. There’s no record of when Jesus was born, though sometime around April is a better bet given the efforts of centuries of theologians seeking to show how the Old Testament prefigured the New. Their exegesis would suggest a Christmas/Easter parallel. Christmas became associated with December in the first century to prevent Christian converts from celebrating the considerably more libertine and raucous Roman holiday of Saturnalia. Here in the USA, it’s hard to refute observations that Christmas is really Santa-based consumer capitalism–unless you think the Wise Men came to the manger bearing Amazon gift cards, L. L. Bean sweaters, and fruit cake destined for the compost bin. (Is fruit cake myrrh?)
Surprise! Last week, I actually went caroling–in a pub. I enjoyed it because it was heavy on public domain songs. They’re older than mall muzak but you don’t hear them as often. Do you have any idea how many “Twelve Days of Christmas” don’t have any “five golden rings?” Here’s one titled, “Green Grow the Rashes,” not to be confused with a ballad from Robert Burns.
Gathering with friends and sharing food and drink is nice. So too are presents, lights, decorations, and belting out choruses to less familiar songs. Just hold the mall carols.
Rob Weir
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