The (Subversive) Nutcracker

      By: Patrick St. John  |  December 20, 2010

      nutcrackerFor those of us who celebrate Christmas, few things are as evocative of the season as the brightly-colored nutcrackers most of us set on our window sills and mantlepieces. Growing up around Pennsylvania Dutch country probably made them even more part-and-parcel of the season for me.

      But where does this tradition come from? Why are the most common nutcrackers visages of kings, generals, and other noblemen?

      The anthropomorphic wooden nutcracker had its start in Germany in the 15th century, but we can see similar styles throughout Europe in the proceeding years. The German communities in and around Sonneberg and the Ore Mountains by the mid-18th century were creating these large dolls in the forms of those higher up the social ladder - everyone from monks, police, kings to specific people like Napoleon. Throughout the year, these were the people who ordered the commoners around, worked them to death, threw them in jails, and sent them off to war. In this craft tradition, the people had at least a symbolic comeuppance: these high and mighty people are reduced to cracking nuts for the working class. That's right: wooden nutcrackers weren't just aesthetic, they were cathartic.

      The use of popular holidays to lampoon and subvert (at least temporarily) the ruling classes is a wonderful and ancient tradition. The Feast of Fools, a Christmastime festival celebrated across Europe (especially England) during the Medieval period, had as its primary feature the dramatic reversal of social roles. The poorest in the community were exalted as the highest elites, and the actual elites (who as you can imagine did not partake much in this festival) were brushed off by the people as lowly serfs. The Catholic Church didn't escape ridicule, either:

      In the medieval version the young people, who played the chief parts, chose from among their own number a mock pope, archbishop, bishop, or abbot to reign as Lord of Misrule. Participants would then "consecrate" him with many ridiculous ceremonies in the chief church of the place, giving names such as Archbishop of Dolts, Abbot of Unreason, Boy Bishop, or Pope of Fools. […] The ceremonies often mocked the performance of the highest offices of the church, while other persons, dressed in different kinds of masks and disguises, engaged in songs and dances and practised all manner of revelry within the church building.

      The Feast of Fools traces its lineage all the way back to ancient Roman feast of Saturnalia, which featured a similar socially subversive effect. Throughout history, contemporary authorities always held a somewhat nervous position on these spectacles: on the one hand, it was a safe and short-lived way of releasing stress for the commoners, but on the other hand, all parties were well aware of just how quickly events could turn to open rebellion. By alternating acts of condemnation and resigned acceptance, elites were clearly uncomfortable at how precarious their hold on power was, and how dangerous parody can be.

      The use of creative parody to attack the status quo is in good hands today, making those in power uncomfortable: from the amazing caricatures of political elites on display at most large protests, to the Yes Men's use of impersonation to highlight the misdeeds of trade groups, to shows like the Colbert Report which send up the hypocrisy of the rich and powerful, to hilarious fake twitter accounts like BPGlobalPR.

      So next time you take out your nutcrackers, put them in a bit more prominent location, and be proud to continue a tradition that has such delightfully subversive roots.

      PS - I'm probably reading too much into this, but the Saxony region of the Ore Mountains, which is known for its tradition of nutcrackers, was also a hotbed of political revolt during the German revolutions of 1848. Food for thought...