In human associations, that of mistletoe stretches from ancient barbarians to Bieber. Indeed the Canadian pop idol’s second studio album was entitled Under the Mistletoe. Some sixty years earlier, redheaded 12-year-old Jimmy Boyd from McComb, Mississippi wowed his way to fame and fortune warbling Tommie Connor’s “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” The song begins:
In truth, the several species of the Old World Loranthus are semi-parasitic subshrubs with green stems and sparse foliage. They flourish on tree branches, particularly those of apple and oak, which they tap for nutrients. The white, glaucous berries are much appreciated by birds. However, the seeds embedded in the sticky pulp are hard to clean from their beaks. Birds perch on branches, then wipe against them to remove the seeds. These germinate to spread the mistletoe to a new host site.
Not surprisingly, mistletoe has long been associated in the folklore and mythology of many cultures. The Roman author Pliny wrote extensively on its veneration amongst those Celtic priests known as druids. Since oaks were sacred to them, mistletoe growing on the tree was also held in awe, perhaps sent by the gods though a lightning bolt. It was cut only at the most auspicious times, according to Pliny by a white-robed priest wielding a golden sickle, to be caught on a white cloth lest it touch the ground.
In Norse mythology, Balder, son of Odin, was much beloved by the gods. The goddess Frig created a potion to protect him from all harm, invoking the aid of every living thing, save that of the mistletoe. Consequently, the gods used to amuse themselves by trying to harm Balder. They threw rocks, hacked with battleaxes, slashed at him with swords. All failed to harm him. None of these goings-on sat well with Loki, the evil god (there’s one in every crowd). Approaching the blind god Hother who was standing on the fringe of the crowd, he offered him mistletoe to throw at Balder, saying he, Loki, would guide Hother’s arm. And so it was that thanks to the evil one’s guile, Balder, the beloved of gods, fell dead at their feet.
But why, as with Tommy Connor’s lines, do we kiss under the mistletoe?
Sir James George Frazer’s 1922 classic The Golden Bough contains more on mistletoe in mythology. Indeed to the ancients mistletoe was the golden bough itself. This exhaustive study in magic and religion shows how these beliefs extended throughout Europe at least until even modern times.
In Brittany, peasants hung bunches of mistletoe in front of their cottages and barns to protect against witchcraft. In Scotland, the badge of the Hays of Errol, an estate in Perthshire, was the mistletoe. Cut with a new dirk from a special oak tree at an auspicious time, it was also believed to be an infallible charm against witchcraft. And from northern Italy through Switzerland into Germany and Scandinavia mistletoe was believed to be the product of lightning, a ‘thunder-besom’ in the Teutonic languages. Similar beliefs were held in France and in Wales – all territories formerly associated with the Celts.
The plant is fruitful in mid-winter and doubtlessly this appealed to the druids of old. Throughout Western Europe, potions were prepared from mistletoe and given to livestock to assure their fertility. Likewise, women might carry a sprig to assure they conceived. As Wee and Hsuan note (1990): “The traditional of kissing under the Christmas mistletoe could probably be associated with powers of the plant to increase fertility.” Such a belief might best go unmentioned in our more politically correct times, turning instead to more innocent Christmas traditions.
While greeting card creator Donald Fraser Gould McGill penned such lines as, “Let goose and turkey pies go/But leave us still our good mistletoe,” the celebrated American versifier Ogden Nash longed for a classic holiday season: “Oh, give me an old-fashioned Christmas card/With mistletoe galore, and holly by the yard.” But Ogden Nash being Ogden Nash, he never could resist a punny line:
The men who write the Christmas rhymes,
They all inhabit frigid climes.
Their roofs are fluffy, I have heard,
With snow like Santa Claus’s beard.
Icicles decorate their nose,
And chilblains nip their mistletoes.
More recently, mistletoe has entered the space age. A perhaps fortunately unknown punster has inquired, “If athletes get athlete’s foot, what do astronauts get? Mistle toe.” And that is definitely the kiss-off.
