Father Christmas, Santa Claus, St Nicholas, Kris Kringle - whatever, he’s usually an overweight, jolly old bloke with white whiskers, a red coat, hefty boots, a sack full of toys big enough for every child in the world - and a few reindeer.

He first seems to have manifested himself in Ben Jonson’s Christmas His Masque in 1616 although St Nicholas hails from the fourth century, is the patron saint of children and is the origin of Father Christmas. As Santa Claus, he crossed from America. Wikipedia has a lengthy list of different names for him from Afghanistan to Wales. The Victorians promoted him heavily, always hairy, booted, obese, jovial. Political correctness has decreed that he may be of any nationality and any colour and also female. He is in films, paintings, sculpture, cartoons. He is better known than David Beckham. He once sat children on his knee but this is now forbidden. He arrives down non-existent chimneys and nobody questions how.

When I was little, we left him a mince pie and a glass of wine beside the fire which were always gone in the morning. I didn't have the heart to explain to my parents that he was a myth because I assumed they believed in him wholeheartedly and I didn't want to spoil their fun. Realization dawned for all of us when my father tripped over in my bedroom whilst clutching a bulging stocking, collapsed across the bed and started to laugh. I got to eat the mince pie and he drank the wine.

Personally I find Father Christmas faintly sinister. But then, I always was a bit peculiar. Sal Shuel

More Father Christmases (Fathers Christmas???)

Right: A figure from Antony Gormley’s “Another Place” in suitably festive garb.
Brian Shuel

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