Santa and the 'Shrooms: The Real Story Behind the "Design" of Christmas
Most people think of Santa Claus and the cheery red and white we decorate with at Christmas as
little more than lighthearted fun and pretty colors. But the real story
behind that Christmas look that takes over the Western world at this
time of year is a bit… shall we say, darker. Or at least way, way more
tripped-out. Read on to find out about the psychedelic and mystical
roots of the Santa Claus myth and the traditional Christmas decorating scheme!
When we think of Christmas in the United States, we invariably think
of Santa Claus — a man in a red suit and pointy hat with white furry
trim and tall black boots, and his accessories, a bag of goodies in a
sleigh pulled through the sky by a team of eight flying reindeer. And
it’s a clear case of the clothes making the man, for a Santa in any
other outfit would most definitely not still be Santa. (Does a fat,
bearded, white-haired guy in cargo shorts and a Metallica t-shirt make
you think of Christmas?)
But when you think about it, it’s a pretty special outfit, no?
Santa’s pretty much the only one who wears anything like it — a baggy
suit with fur trim isn’t exactly stylish these days, and it wasn’t when
Santa made his first appearance, either. His last known precursor,
Father Christmas, wore a long red robe, sometimes with trim and
sometimes without, like a cardinal — reflecting the link drawn between
him and the historic Saint Nicholas, a Turkish cardinal in the 14th
century who was known for his kindness to children. But the pants? And
the hat? And the boots? They’re nowhere to be found on him.
Popular legend has it that Santa himself, not to mention his outfit,
was designed by Coca Cola, making his first appearance in their
early-20th century ads and defining him for the ages by sheer force of
commercial might. There’s a grain of truth in this: His generous shape
and rosy cheeks came at the whimsy of Haddon Sundblom, the illustrator
of so many of Coke’s well-loved ads from that period. Before Sundblom’s
illustrations, Santa was commonly depicted as more of a gnome-like
little man (editorial cartoonist Thomas Nast drew some of the best-known
early dedications of him), often skinny and a little scary — but even
then, wearing the same clothes he wears now. So the question is, where
did that outfit come from? Where did Santa get such a unique sense of
sartorial élan?
The answer, according to anthropological research from recent
decades, lies way further back than even Coke can be found. The roots of
Santa’s style, and his bag of goodies, sleigh, reindeer, bizarre
midnight flight, distinctive chimney-based means of entry into the home,
and even the way we decorate our houses at Christmas, seem to lead all
the way back to the ancestral traditions of a number of indigenous
arctic circle dwellers — the Kamchadales and the Koryaks of Siberia,
specifically. (So it’s true — Santa really does come from the North
Pole!)
And like so many other fantastical tales, it all originated with some
really intense ‘shrooms. On the night of the winter solstice, a Koryak
shaman would gather several hallucinogenic mushrooms called amanita
muscaria, or fly agaric in English, and them to launch himself into a
spiritual journey to the tree of life (a large pine), which lived by the
North Star and held the answer to all the village’s problems from the
previous year.
Fly agaric is the red mushroom with white spots that we see in fairy
tale illustrations, old Disney movies, and (if you’re old enough to
remember) Super Mario Brothers video games and all the Smurfs cartoons.
They are seriously toxic, but they become less lethal when dried out.
Conveniently, they grow most commonly under pine trees (because their
spores travel exclusively on pine seeds), so the shaman would often hang
them on lower branches of the pine they were growing under to dry out
before taking them back to the village. As an alternative, he would put
them in a sock and hang them over his fire to dry. Is this starting to
sound familiar?
Image courtesy of sagaciousmama.com.
Another way to remove the fatal toxins from the ‘shrooms was to feed
them to reindeer, who would only get high from them — and then pee, with
their digestive systems having filtered out most of the toxins, making
their urine safe for humans to drink and get a safer high that way.
Reindeer happen to love fly agarics and eat them whenever they can, so a
good supply of magic pee was usually ready and waiting all winter. In
fact, the reindeer like fly agarics so much that they would eat any snow
where a human who had drank ‘shroom-laced urine had relieved himself,
and thus the circle would continue.
When the shaman went out to gather the mushrooms, he would wear an
red outfit with either white trim or white dots, in honor of the
mushroom’s colors. And because at that time of year the whole region was
usually covered in deep snow, he, like everyone, wore tall boots of
reindeer skin that would by then be blackened from exposure. He’d gather
the tree-dried fly agarics and some reindeer urine in a large sack,
then return home to his yurt (the traditional form of housing for people
of this region at that time), where some of the higher-ups of the
village would have gathered to join in the solstice ceremony.
But how would he get into a yurt whose door was blocked by several
feet of snow? He’d climb up to the roof with his bag of goodies, go to
the hole in the center of the roof that acted as a chimney, and slide
down the central pole that held the yurt up over the fireplace. Then
he’d pass out a few ‘shrooms to each guest, and some might even partake
of some of the ones that had been hung over the fire. Clearly, this idea
of using the chimney to get in and pass out the magic mushrooms (and
other goodies) had sticking power. Interestingly, even as late as
Victorian times in England, the traditional symbol of chimney sweeps was
a fly agaric mushroom — and many early Christmas cards featured chimney
sweeps with fly agarics, though no explanation of why was offered.
Interestingly, in addition to inducing hallucinations, the mushrooms
stimulate the muscular system so strongly that those who eat them take
on temporarily superhuman strength, in the same way we might be affected
by a surge of adrenaline in a life-or-death situation. And the effect
is the same for animals. So any reindeer who’d had a tasty mushroom
snack or a little yellow snow would become literally high and mighty,
prancing around and often jumping so high they looked like they were
flying. And at the same time, the high would make humans feel like they
were flying, too, and the reindeer were flying through space. So by now
you can see where this is going: The legend had it that the shaman and
the reindeer would fly to the north star (which sits directly over the
north pole) to retrieve the gifts of knowledge, which they would then
distribute to the rest of the village.
It seems that these traditions were carried down into Great Britain
by way of the ancient druids, whose spiritual practices had taken on
elements that had originated much farther north. Then, in the inevitable
way that different cultures influence one another due to migration and
intermarriage, these stories got mixed with certain Germanic and Nordic
myths involving Wotan (the most powerful Germanic god), Odin (his Nordic
counterpart) or another great god going on a midnight winter solstice
ride, chased by devils, on an eight-legged horse. The exertion of the
chase would make flecks of red and white blood and foam fall from the
horse’s mouth to the ground, where the next year amanita mushrooms would
appear. Apparently over time, this European story of a horse with eight
legs, united with the ancient Arctic circle story of reindeer prancing
and flying around on the same night, melted together into eight
prancing, flying reindeer.
That story then crossed the pond to the New World with the early
English settlers, and got an injection of Dutch traditions involving the
Turkish St. Nicholas (who came to be called Sinterklaas by small Dutch
children) from the Dutch colonialists — and found immortality in its
current form in early 20th-century America, with Clement Clark Moore’s
famous poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas.” Before this poem hit the press,
different immigrant groups around the U.S. each had their own different
versions of the Santa Claus legend. Then in the 1930s, Coca Cola’s ad
campaign gave Santa his sizable girth and sent him back around the
world. And so in that spirit, a merry Christmas to all who celebrate it!
Investigate Plants of Mind and Spirit
In the “old world”, the psychoactive fly agaric mushroom (Amanita muscaria)
has been closely associated with northern European and Asiatic shamans
and their rituals. Researchers have documented its use or presumed use
by numerous cultures throughout Europe and Asia. In Siberia, its use
predates the crossing of the Bering Straits into North America.
Fly agaric mushroom (Amanita muscaria) shown here from "button" stage through full maturity. Photo credit: Bugwood Forestry Images.
During the Pleistocene, the use of fly agaric entered Alaska,
spread out across North America, and eventually south into Mesoamerica.
However, the use of the fly agaric mushroom fell by the wayside in the
“new world” due to the availability of liberty cap mushrooms (Psilocybe spp.).
Liberty caps became the preferred psychoactive fungi as they were more
easily tolerated and produced more intense experiences.
Fly-Agaric’s Influence on Modern Midwinter and Christmas Celebrations
Why does Santa Claus wear a red coat and pants trimmed with
white fur and black boots? Why does Santa come down the chimney and into
the house to deliver his gifts? Why do reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh?
Why does Santa carry his gifts in a sack? Why does Santa have such rosy
cheeks?
There is a saying that behind every myth lies a wee bit of
truth. The answer to these questions may be found in pre-Christian
rituals practiced in northern Europe at the time of the winter solstice.
The collection, preparation, and use of fly agaric mushrooms (Amanita muscaria) were central to many northern European and Asian peoples’ winter solstice celebrations and ceremonies.
In the days leading up to the winter solstice, the fly agaric
mushroom appears under trees, mostly firs and spruces. The fly agaric
mushroom’s cap is dark red to reddish-orange with creamy-white small
patches dotting the cap in an irregular pattern.
In central Asia, shamans wore special garments to collect the
fly agaric mushrooms. Their coats and pants were red with the collar and
cuffs trimmed with white fur and topped off with black boots. The
shaman collected the fly agaric mushrooms in a special sack. After
collecting the mushrooms, the shaman would return to his village and
enter the yurt (a portable tent dwelling) through the smoke hole on the
roof; does this sound familiar?
During the ceremonial ritual, the shaman would consume and share the
sacred mushrooms with the participants. The smoke hole was a gateway or
portal into the spiritual world where the people would experience many
visions. Among the Sami (Laplander) peoples, the hallucinations
associated with ingestion of fly agaric gave the sensation of flying in a
“spiritual sleigh” pulled by reindeer or horses (i.e., Santa in his
sleigh journeying out into the night to give gifts).
Watch this short video
from the BBC wildlife show “Weird Nature” to learn more about the
reindeer appetite for intoxicating fungi, and perhaps discover a little
more about the origins of Santa's flying companions!
A side effect from eating fly agaric mushrooms was a rosy, red
flush to the cheeks and face. Common winter rituals included drying and
stringing fly agaric mushrooms near the hearth. To this day, many people
all over the world still decorate the family hearth and Christmas tree
with strings of popcorn, cranberries, and mushroom ornaments. It is a
reminder that many winter solstice traditions have long-forgotten
histories brought forward into modern secular festivities, including the
Christmas holiday.
Christmas card displaying the hanging of
Amanita muscaria on a door.
