Night of the Krampus

Tomorrow, on the 6th of December, the Germans and other central Europeans traditionally celebrate St. Nicholas Day ("Nikolaustag"). In Bavaria, the day before that is "Krampustag", the day of the Krampus, named after the sinister sidekick of St. Nicholas. By the usual custom, both figures appear together on the evening of the 5th of December to bring gifts to the good children (and to punish the bad ones). As the Krampus is a horned demon-figure commonly depicted carrying a birch (and not afraid to use it), this is an intriguing bit of Alpine mythology especially for us spankos.

(An old German Christmas postcard depicting St. Nicholas and his helper Krampus, whom some call "the missing link between Santa and Satan")

As a historian, I'm always interested in traditions, anyway. The one of St. Nicholas goes back to Nicholas of Myra, a Greek bishop during the 4th century who lived in what is today Turkey (back then, of course, part of the Eastern Roman Empire). There are not many historical sources about his life, but all the more legends - Nicholas was said to be a worker of miracles and a bringer of gifts. In the latter capacity, he is one of the most popular saints among Catholic and Orthodox Christians today.

Nicholas of Myra is also the basis of the Santa Claus figure popular in American culture. But there are differences. Santa Claus is the giftbringer on Christmas eve while St. Nicholas is not directly linked to Christmas - he has his own day in early December (in Germany, the Christmas gifts are the job of the "Christkind", the Christ child, instead). Another significant difference is that Santa Claus does pretty much everything by himself. He brings gifts for the good children and coal or sticks for the naughty ones. However, in the St. Nicholas tradition, the duties of reward and punishment are divided: Nicholas rewards the good children himself, but he has a companion to deal with the others.

In Bavaria (also in other central European regions like Austria, Hungary or the Czech lands), this companion is the Krampus. His name probably comes from the Old High German word "Krampen", which means "claw". There is also a Bavarian slang term "Krampn", denoting something lifeless, dried up, withered (I've never heard that term myself, but then again, I'm a city slicker from Munich, not a hillbilly).

What exactly is a Krampus? Well, he (naturally, they're all male!) is a scary, bad-tempered demon who usually looks something like this: humanoid form, but very big and tall, hairy goatskin, ugly face with glowing eyes, large horns like a goat or ram, and a tail. The inventory he carries consists of cowbells and rusty chains to make lots of noise (in addition to his incessant growling), a kind of backpack (called "Butte") which he supposedly uses to take naughty children away, and of course a birch for some spanking action.

The Krampus tradition originated in the Alpine region and probably goes back to some old, horned forest deity who, like other pagan figures, was eventually incorporated into local Christian mythology. Many scholars believe in a connection to the Greek-Roman god Pan / Faunus. Reminiscent of such ancient rites, young men would wear costumes with furs and horns for festive Krampus processions. For a time, this was outlawed by the inquisition, because they considered it a crime punishable by death to dress up as a devilish figure. But ever since the mid-17th century, the tradition that still continues today began to take shape, where the Krampus became a helper creature for St. Nicholas.

(Another Krampus postcard, this is an Austrian one from 1901, featuring a rather grownup-looking damsel in distress and St. Nicholas peeping through the window)

My parents were never big on religion, but whether you were a believer or not, it was simply considered part of the Bavarian Christmas season to have a visit from the Nikolaus for your children on the evening of December 5th. So one year, I must have been around six or seven at the time, they organised one. The two young men who came to our house dressed up as the saint and his furry sidekick were probably university students in their early twenties making a bit of extra money.

St. Nicholas himself was quite impressive, actually. He didn't have the typical red and white "coca cola outfit" of Santa Claus, but looked more like a proper bishop out of legend, with long white, gold-adorned robes and a crooked shepherd's staff. Plus the fake white beard, of course. Unfortunately, his companion in the Krampus costume was very slim and short, barely over five feet, and his acting wasn't great, either. It just wasn't the right role for him I guess (maybe they should have switched?). My mother told me years later that she had to do her best to play along and not burst out laughing while the poor guy was trying to be menacing and failing miserably. As for me, I don't remember being scared. Actually, I don't remember many details of the Krampus at all, only of St. Nicholas with the beard and robes.

I had no reason to be scared, anyway, as I was a pretty well-behaved child most of the time. And even if you weren't, the Krampus wouldn't actually use his birch - it was just a prop they carried for show, really. Then and now, the usual custom in Bavaria is that the Nikolaus and the Krampus play a kind of "good cop, bad cop" routine. They ask you if you've been nice during the past year, the Krampus acts all threatening and eager to spank you, and then the Nikolaus calms down his assistant ("Well, I think we have a good child here...") and gives you some presents. Only in my case, the bad cop was rather pathetic, which is why my parents never bothered to arrange such a visit again.

Ah well, I guess I didn't miss out on anything. While I already had my first secret kinky fantasies around that time, I certainly didn't envision getting a spanking in front of my mom and dad! For some reason, that particular scenario didn't seem attractive or "appropriate" to fantasise about. But the birch, as such, was an exciting tool to look at. I guess it's impossible to be a kinky guy or girl from these parts and not associate that instrument with the whole Krampus tradition, on some level.

In some places, especially in Austria, they still have proper Krampus processions where you can see entire groups of the cute little devils. It's a common, humorous test of courage for bystanders to try and provoke the Krampusse (plural!) without being caught and hit. Because during these processions, the men in the costumes do like to use the birches, especially on young women. Which, I believe, also goes back to an ancient fertility ritual where it was considered good luck for a girl to get a few symbolic lashes. Or maybe the Krampusse just think that whipping young women is fun (can't imagine why).

I've never been to such a procession, but I'd like to see one sometime. Maybe next year I'll have time to travel. It would be fun just to watch as a voyeur, waiting for some Krampus/F action. Or should I dress up myself? Hmm, it seems like a very odd, rural thing to do for a city slicker. Goat horns, give me a break! Then again, at least I'd be over a foot taller than the guy who failed to scare me when I was a kid. And I'm well-practiced with spanking implements, even though I haven't used a birch before. Don't know. I guess I'll just watch as a bystander next year, and see how I like the general idea.

(A group of Krampusse during a procession, complete with birches and chains)