[On July 30, 1942, Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” was released. So this week I’ll AmericanStudy Crosby’s classic and other Christmas and holiday songs, for a little flavor of the season here in mid-summer!]
On what’s
lurking beneath the cheery lessons of our holiday favs.
Rudolph isn’t like the other
reindeer, but that shouldn’t make him an outcast or a pariah. That’s a pretty
positive and important message, and I’d be very happy if my boys’ childhood favorite holiday tune
were subtly teaching them that lesson every time they warbled through its
lyrics. And I suppose it is, kinda sorta. But the problem for me—and when it
comes to music I am, perhaps not surprisingly, obsessively analytical about
lyrics; this must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of
the post I am going to write—is that, while Rudolph’s status in his community
does change when his peers’ perspectives on his identity and distinctiveness
are likewise transformed, that transformation is itself caused by a very
specific and troubling factor: the recognition of Rudolph’s usefulness to said community. It’s a
foggy night, Santa needs some extra guidance, and then how the reindeer loved him, then they shouted out with glee that he’d go down in history. The
end result is, again, a more inclusive and tolerant North Pole community, and
I’m all for that, but I sure do wish it could get that way because of the
inherent goodness of those values, and not because Rudolph happened to prove
his practical worth.
The dual communities constructed
in “We Wish You a Merry
Christmas,” on the other hand, are flawed precisely because of the extreme
imbalance in their respective contributions to the happy occasion (caroling,
wassailing, whatever term you prefer) upon which they meet. The song’s speakers
admit, in the opening verse, that what they bring to this occasion amounts to
nothing more than “good tidings … to you and your kin, / good tidings for
Christmas and a happy New Year.” It’s always nice to be wished well, of course,
and I’m sure that I can speak for my kin in returning the good tidings. But the
speakers will not be satisfied with such an exchange, demanding in the second
verse—repeating the demand three consecutive times, no less—that we “bring
[them] a figgy pudding,” and even adding “a cup of good cheer” to the demands
in the third repetition. And lest we mistake this demand for a simple request,
the speakers then threaten us with the consequences of refusal, noting (again
three times for emphasis) that they “won’t go until [they] get some,” and so we
had better “bring some out here.” I’m all for giving, as yesterday’s post
hopefully made clear, but this is coercion at its worst, and all because of
some good tidings that, I am forced to imagine, are likewise contingent on me
and my kin giving in to these culinary demands.
Speaking of those kin, and coming
back around to my boys, I was a big fan of any and all mechanisms through which
I can help—okay, fine, coerce, but with good intentions—their mischievous youthful
selves to behave well, and Santa Claus proved to be one of the most successful
such disciplinary devices. To that end, I think that the bulk of “Santa Claus is Coming to
Town” expresses with admirable clarity and conciseness the need for
children to watch out, not to cry or pout, and generally to be good (not, it
must be admitted, actually for goodness’ sake, but for the sake of
self-interest and future present-receiving, which is a more compelling argument
to be sure) if they hope to stay on the nice list and have a merry Christmas
morning. But then there’s the start of the final verse: “He sees you when
you’re sleeping / He knows when you’re awake.” Why? Why, in the name of all that
is ho ho ho-ly, does Santa need to see and know those things? Why has he
suddenly transformed here into an “Every Breath You Take”-like stalker,
attending to my children’s every move, 24 hours a day? And how am I supposed to sleep on Christmas Eve
now, knowing that this Big Brother wannabe with his ominously shaking belly
will be descending down my chimney at any moment?
And don’t even
get me started on Frosty. Next holiday song tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What
do you think? Other holiday songs you’d analyze?
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