The Yule Cat

The oldest written sources on the Yule Cat are from the Nineteenth Century. These refer to the fact that those who do not get a new item of clothing for Yule are destined to become offerings for the Yule Cat. It may sound strange that the deprived ones will also become the sacrifices, but this tradition is based on the fact that every effort was made to finish all work with the Autumn wool before Yule. The reward for those who took part in the work was a new piece of clothing. Those who were lazy received nothing. Thus the Yule Cat was used as an incentive to get people to work harder.

A woman describes a scene from her youth in the last century thus: "We were lazy doing this chore. Then we were reminded of the Yule Cat. We thought that was some terrible beast and the last thing we wanted was to be one of his offers".

One of Iceland's most beloved poets in this century, Jóhannes úr Kötlum, wrote a lay about the Yule Cat. It follows in the translation of Vignir Jónsson, who says: "You'll have to forgive me but I didn't make it rhyme - I'm not much of a poet."

You all know the Yule Cat
And that Cat was huge indeed.
People didn't know where he came from
Or where he went.

      He opened his glaring eyes wide,
      The two of them glowing bright.
      It took a really brave man
      To look straight into them.

      His whiskers, sharp as bristles,
      His back arched up high.
      And the claws of his hairy paws
      Were a terrible sight.

      He gave a wave of his strong tail,
      He jumped and he clawed and he hissed.
      Sometimes up in the valley,
      Sometimes down by the shore.

      He roamed at large, hungry and evil
      In the freezing Yule snow.
      In every home
      People shuddered at his name.

      If one heard a pitiful "meow"
      Something evil would happen soon.
      Everybody knew he hunted men
      But didn't care for mice.

      He picked on the very poor
      That no new garments got
      For Yule - who toiled
      And lived in dire need.

      From them he took in one fell swoop
      Their whole Yule dinner
      Always eating it himself
      If he possibly could.

      Hence it was that the women
      At their spinning wheels sat
      Spinning a colorful thread
      For a frock or a little sock.

      Because you mustn't let the Cat
      Get hold of the little children.
      They had to get something new to wear
      From the grownups each year.

      And when the lights came on, on Yule Eve
      And the Cat peered in,
      The little children stood rosy and proud
      All dressed up in their new clothes.

      Some had gotten an apron
      And some had gotten shoes
      Or something that was needed
      - That was all it took.

      For all who got something new to wear
      Stayed out of that pussy-cat's grasp
      He then gave an awful hiss
      But went on his way.

      Whether he still exists I do not know.
      But his visit would be in vain
      If next time everybody
      Got something new to wear.

      Now you might be thinking of helping
      Where help is needed most.
      Perhaps you'll find some children
      That have nothing at all.

      Perhaps searching for those
      That live in a lightless world
      Will give you a happy day
      And a Merry, Merry Yule.



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