Reykjavík Grapevine - 04.12.2009, Qupperneq 18
Even though most Western nations are
by all accounts becoming more mind-
numbingly culturally uniform by the
minute, there are still some vast regional
differences as to how we go about living
our lives and the various customs and
traditions that entails. Take Christmas.
Most Christian countries (and some
non-Christian ones as well) have their
own special version of the festivities that
December brings, even though themes
of celebration, charity, love towards man-
kind and consumerism are widespread.
Iceland is no different in this respect and
has many unique Christmas customs
and ceremonies. The following is an at-
tempt to give outsiders some insight into
how the average Icelander will experi-
ence and celebrate the holidays in light
of traditional folklore and long standing
customs, as well as some new ones.
The presents themselves and the vari-
ous traditions surrounding them vary
between households, although there
are some constants. Books have for long
ranked as the most popular gift-items;
the publishing industry and book stores
virtually revolve around the holiday sea-
son—the months leading up to it see the
majority of the year’s releases being pub-
lished and bought.
The gift of music is also a popular
one, especially in post-Kreppa times. Be-
side cultural products, other popular gift
items include decorative objects, board
games, electronic equipment and the
like.
CaLLIng aLL sHoPPers!
It should come as no surprise that each
year the first signs of the impending
holidays stem from Iceland’s advertis-
ing agencies; as early as October one
may witness Santa or one of his minions
running amok in the media, reminding
shoppers that the Christmas season has
indeed arrived and it is time to stock up
on gifts and pleasantries. Soon after, the
larger stores will start decorating, giv-
ing nods to the festivities with the use of
Christmas trees, blinking light sets and
inflatable Santas.
However, most of the shopping oc-
curs in the month of December itself,
culminating on December 23—known
here as Þorláksmessa—when the stores
stay open ‘til late and midtown Reykjavík
along with the shopping malls experi-
ence their most crowded day of the year.
The large mass of people that congregate
downtown to do some last minute shop-
ping and drink cups of cocoa is truly a
sight to behold and is for some one of the
season’s high points.
DeCK THe HaLLs
Icelanders usually give their homes the
holiday treatment in late November/
early December, with the start of Advent
(which occurs the fourth Sunday before
Christmas) usually marking the official
‘OK time’ for decorating. Decorations
are similar to what may be found in the
rest of the Christmas-celebrating world:
pine branches, light sets, Santa-related
effigies and various knick-knacks and
doodads. A four-candle Advent wreath,
with one candle to be lit on each Ad-
vent Sunday to mark its passing, may be
found in most homes, as may so-called
Christmas-calendars, boxes of choco-
lates to be dispensed every day leading
up to December 24.
A decorative object somewhat unique
to Iceland, although the phenomenon
may be found in some Nordic coun-
tries, is the Advent light, a seven-armed
electric candlestick found in at least
one window of almost every Icelandic
house throughout the holiday season.
It is reportedly quite common for those
who visit Reykjavík in December to get
in touch with the National Museum and
inquire about the object, and whether Ju-
daism is widespread in the country.
The story behind the Advent lights’
popularity in Iceland is surprisingly
mundane. It is generally thought of as
any other decoration, even though the
seven-armed candlestick is laden with
symbolism elsewhere. The story goes
that a certain Reykjavík businessman
encountered the object on a standard
shopping trip to Sweden sometime in the
mid-sixties. He thought they’d make ex-
cellent gifts to his aunts back home and
bought several for that purpose. Word of
mouth popularity ensued, and soon the
businessman was importing boatloads
of the decorative lights, as no respectable
Icelandic home could bear to be without
them.
a PreTTy HorrIBLe famILy
Iceland has some strange and violent
folklore connected to the month of Ad-
vent, and Christmas in particular, al-
though later years have seen some of its
harsher tales considerably revised into
being more “child-friendly”. As with
most Western nations, Christmas in Ice-
land involves several mythical creatures
dating back to the middle ages, but what
may set ours apart is their bleak nature
and often-scary undertones.
In folk tales, Christmas Eve is a dan-
gerous night that should be approached
with extreme caution. It is the time when
every supernatural creature in Iceland’s
collective consciousness comes out to
play, often luring innocent peasants
to their dens, killing them or trapping
them eternally. For instance, elves will
tempt with their riches and beauty, trap-
ping whoever falls for their shtick into an
eternity of living inside rocks, or worse.
And those who dare play cards or games
of any nature on Christmas Eve may ex-
pect horrible things—a famous folk tale
speaks of a Church that was engulfed
into the earth by Satan himself after its
patrons partook in a midnight game of
cards.
And then there are the gift-bringers:
the Jólasveinar (or Yuletide Lads), a mot-
ley group of bogeymen descended from
trolls. Originally used to scare children
into submission, it is only in later years
that they have warmed to the task of
bringing them presents instead of ha-
rassing their families with pranks. Little
is known of the Jólasveinars’ origins, but
they do get mentioned in writing as early
as the 17th century. Their number and
habits varied from region to region (the
East Fjords even had some that lived at
sea as opposed to on mountains), and
there are as many as 80 recorded names
for them. Jón Árnason, Iceland’s answer
to the Brothers Grimm, published their
names in his widely read folklore collec-
tion in 1862 and thus contributed to a
still remaining consensus that there are
exactly thirteen active Jólasveinar.
The Jólasveinar have come a long way
since their salad days of terrifying young
kids. As the centuries passed, they have
taken a shine to the little ones and some-
time around 1960 they found a purpose
in leaving small gifts in kids’ shoes left
on window sills (although there are re-
ports of this behaviour as early as 1930).
The first one, Stekkjarstaur (Gully Oaf)
comes to town on the eve of December
12. They keep on coming leading up to
December 24, when the infamous Ker-
tasníkir (Candle Beggar – he usually
leaves the greatest presents) makes his
arrival. Some interesting ones that show
up in the interim include Þvörusleikir
(Spoon-licker), Hurðaskellir (Door-slam-
mer) and Gluggagægir (Peeping Tom).
Their gifts range from small toys and
Christmas decorations to books and CDs
(that would be Kertasníkir), but if a child
has behaved foully, it will most likely get
a potato.
As mentioned earlier, the Jólasveinar
are descended from common trolls. In
fact, they come from a pretty horrid fam-
ily. Their mother is the most infamous
Icelandic troll of all—the deadly Grýla.
She is mainly known for taking great
pleasure in devouring naughty children,
sometimes cooked, often raw, and it is
believed that her sons’ original purpose
was to bring her fresh meat when the
hunger struck. Not as devious but still
pretty mean is Grýla’s husband, Lep-
palúði, who partakes in all the nastiness
but is a more passive figure.
The most vicious and weird family
member is in all likelihood the deceiv-
ingly named Jólaköttur (Christmas Cat).
This feline is said to be of gargantuan
proportions, and he has the sole purpose
of eating disadvantaged children. Not
necessarily naughty ones, which would,
in a way, be understandable; rather, the
Christmas Cat chooses to feast on kids
who fail to score new articles of clothing
for Christmas. Luckily, Iceland’s trusty
welfare system has ensured that he rarely
finds motive to visit these days.
DevourIng CHrIsTmas
Food plays a large part in Icelandic
Christmas festivities and there are sev-
eral local culinary traditions to be hon-
oured. The fun starts in early December,
when families congregate to bake several
types of Christmas-cookies to be eaten
over the course of the coming month.
An average household will usually pro-
duce around three to ten different sorts
of cookies, although later years have seen
an increase in the circulation of store-
bought ones. More productive house-
holds will also bake and freeze layer
cakes and raisin-laced Christmas cakes.
From the northern parts of Iceland
comes the December tradition of bak-
ing Laufabrauð (Leaf-bread), a very thin,
deep-fried sort of bread that has decora-
tions carved in it and goes well with but-
ter. Another regional tradition that has
in later years spread throughout Iceland
is the annual devouring of kæst skata
(rotted skate) on Þorláksmessa (Decem-
ber 23). Originating in the Westfjords,
the skate-feast generally takes place at
noon. The skate has at this point been
rotting by itself at room temperature for
about three weeks, giving it a harsh and
cleansing taste. By most accounts, cook-
ing skate will really stink up a house, al-
though many profess a great love for the
dish and its accompanying tallow, cooked
rye bread and whole milk. Certainly an
acquired taste, but one that’s worth ex-
ploring.
There aren’t many specifically Icelan-
dic Christmas-style drinks to speak of.
The Scandinavian custom of gathering
to drink Jólaglögg (Christmas-drops) in
the weekends leading up to Christmas
is often practiced, although its popular-
ity has waned somewhat in recent years.
Jólaglögg is a sickly sweet sort of drink
that’s usually made by heating red wine
spiced with cinnamon, ginger, raisins
and lemon peel—some will add spirits
for added bite.
Alcohol consumption around Christ-
mas itself is less popular than one would
assume from Icelanders’ usual drinking
habits—folks would rather stay warm
with a cup of hot chocolate or a combi-
nation of alcohol-free Malt ale (Maltöl)
and Icelandic orange soda (Appelsín).
Combined, the two drinks form what’s
commonly referred to as Jólaöl (Christ-
mas ale). The blending of the two has
been common practice in Iceland since
around 1960 and most families have
their own special ways of determining
the correct proportions between them
(some even add cola to the mix).
(noTHIng To fear BuT) CHrIsT-
mas ITseLf
The first thing you should know about
the actual celebrating of Christmas in
Iceland is that it culminates on Decem-
ber 24 rather than the 25th, which is the
common Western date to celebrate the
birth of Christ. This is in keeping with
the original Christian chronology, taken
up from Judaism, which deems that a
new day starts at sunset, or six PM out-
side of the original Jewish areas. Thus
it is deemed that Christmas day starts
at six PM in Iceland, signalled in by Na-
tional Radio’s broadcasting of church
bells. This is followed by a traditionally
extravagant Christmas meal, often com-
prised of smoked pork or wild game such
as ptarmigan or reindeer. Large families
like to gather for this occasion and there
will often be as many as twenty people
dining at the same table. Many families
conclude the meal by eating a Christmas
porridge in which an almond has been
hidden—whoever gets the almond wins
a fun prize.
Leading up to this is an always-un-
bearable wait (if you’re a kid, anyway).
While parents spend the day putting
last-minute touches on decorations, pre-
paring meals and wrapping up presents,
children will watch some of the local TV
stations’ all-day broadcasts of Christmas-
themed cartoons. Many will suffer un-
controllable sugar-induced temper tan-
trums throughout the day.
What they are looking forward to is
of course the much-coveted opening of
presents, an activity that reigns supreme
over the rest of the evening. A family
member will often take the task upon
himself of fetching the presents from
under the Christmas tree and distribut-
ing them according to their tags. This
can go on for hours in large families, and
it’s usually not until well after midnight
that people make their way to bed, often
reading newly acquired books well into
the small hours of Christmas Day.
Xmas | Icelandic Christmas
HauKur s magnÚsson
JuLIa sTaPLes
2The reykjavík grapevine Xmas special spectacular 2009
Issue 18
How to Conduct Your Icelandic Christmas
“In folk tales, Christmas
Eve is a dangerous
night that should
be approached with
extreme caution. It is
the time when every
supernatural creature
in Iceland’s collective
consciousness comes
out to play, often luring
innocent peasants to
their dens, killing them
or trapping them
eternally.."