MYTHCOMICS: KLAUS AND THE CRISIS IN XMASVILLE (2017)

With CRISIS IN XMASVILLE-- a title designed to evoke fan-memories of Grant Morrison's associations with various DC "crises"-- the author, in tandem with artist Dan Mora, begins fleshing out the details of the "Klaus-verse" he began in the 2015 original.

A prologue sets things up with the depiction of an unfortunate family that accidentally drives into Xmasville, a town where it's always Christmas. Their misfortune grows greater when they're all taken prisoner by these Growly Old Elves, who also display a penchant for goosestepping. 

Before Klaus begins his investigation of this townful of Bad Santas, the reader meets the hero's enemies, the Partridge Family-- or, more specifically, two partridges without a pear tree: young Milhous Q. Partridge and his unnamed grandpa. The latter villain encountered Klaus in combat a generation ago, when he and his father engaged in a "trademark dispute" between Klaus's interests and the company "Pola-Cola," which sought to gain "complete ownership of Christmas as a concept." That gambit failed, but now Grandpa is directing Milhous to help him in a new game: "supplying children for space weapons."

These lesser foes' new ally is an unnamed "evil counterpart" of Klaus himself. While the Partridges want to control the imagery of Christmas to sell products, the Monster, as Klaus calls him, kidnaps Earth-kids (like the ones seen in the prologue) in order to drain off the imaginations and transfer them to his alien customers. He appears to kill Klaus's wolf-friend Lilli and hurls Klaus to his death.

Fortunately, both Klaus and Lilli receive succor from folklore-legend Grandfather Frost and his grand-daughter Snowmaiden. The heroes go toe to toe with the monstrous reflection while both the Monster's alien allies and the Partridges escape to fight another day. The Monster turns into a wolf-man who's vanquished by Snowmaiden's silver spear.

The real challenge, though, is that Klaus and Snowmaiden are forced to enter the Monster's domain, and this underworld is a kissing cousin to that of "the Underverse" from Morrison's earlier effort BEING BIZARRO. But Klaus can get himself, Snowmaiden and the captive kids free because he's the giver of gifts-- the greater of which is a rekindled imagination. In a wrapup coda, we see one of the kids grown to young womanhood, visited by Immortal Klaus in the same year, 2017, as this graphic novel is published. Whether Morrison returned to the insidious corporate schemes of the Pola-Cola Partridges may be fuel for a future Yuletide fire-- and I'm hoping Morrison and Mora continue to come up with new myth-takes on their Warrior Santa.

NEAR MYTHS; KLAUS AND THE WITCH OF WINTER (2016)

The second KLAUS story, following the first less than a year later, thrusts the former 16th-century gift giver to the 21st century, where he seeks to free two abducted children from the evil Snow Qu-- er, the Witch of Winter.

It's a serviceable Xmas adventure, with an interesting take on another famed craftsman, the Gepetto of (public domain) PINOCCHIO.

The story's most mythic moment concerns Klaus reforming the Winter Witch into an avatar of Spring. I bet that other Santa wished he could do that in a Xmas tale I imagine Morrison never encountered: the 1942 SANTA CLAUS IN TROUBLE.

MYTHCOMICS: KLAUS (2015-16)

We all know that Santa Claus isn't real. We get to a point as children where we know he's not real. But then we grow up, and get to a point where we think, well, Santa Claus is real. We've known about him all our lives. Every year, we hear about this character. What is that character? What is that power we all understand? Every generation has their own version of it, but it's real. Santa Claus doesn't have to be physically real, because he's emotionally real.

 I'm fascinated by that idea. Even as a teenager, I remember sitting up and thinking, "I know Santa's not real, but it's Christmas eve, and I'm hearing bells in my head. Why am I hearing bells? I know Santa Claus isn't real." And then the understanding: Of course Santa Claus is real. He's a real idea. Like Superman, like Batman, he's an idea so powerful that we can't destroy him by rationality. That's magic.-- Grant Morrison, COMICS ALLIANCE interview.

I don't know Grant Morrison's exact criteria for considering Santa Claus to be a "real idea," since one can endlessly debate how much "reality" one can find in human emotions. Nevertheless, I think I can identify one connotation Morrison does not imply with his piquant phrase.

There's a long tradition of euhmerism in popular science fiction and fantasy, where some relatively ordinary person gets confounded with a god or legendary figure, which is supposed to "explain" the origin of the mythic entity. In the seven-part "origin story,"Morrison never actually says that his Nordic strongman is actually the only "Santa Klaus" in existence, so he's not invested in the euhemerism fallacy. Further, online references assert that later KLAUS stories introduce other versions of the Santa archetype that co-exist with the starring character. I tend to think that this extrapolation was Morrison's Christmas-themed version of "The Batmen of All Nations" concept that appeared throughout his BATMAN tenure. 

Klaus's origin unfolds in media res, starting with the titular character arriving, for the first time in many years, at the walled medieval city of Grimsvig, during the winter festival of Yuletime. (One online reference claims that the story takes place in the 16th century, but Morrison sedulously avoids references to the specific history, just as he avoids tying his hero to overt Christian themes.) He appears to be an ordinary trapper, coming to town to sell the skins of the beasts he caught. Klaus soon finds that the ruling powers of Grimsvig have turned to evil ways (though when one sees his backstory, the reader may wonder why he didn't expect something of this sort.) Not only do the city-guards confiscate his wares without recompense, they strike a child for playing with a stone, for the city-ruler Baron Magnus has forbidden toys. 

Klaus's outrage doesn't win him any friends. The guards, not content just to beat him down and toss him back onto the wilderness, decide that they're going to hunt the wild man, whom at least one guard deems to be some sort of werewolf. And possibly that one guard had an acute sense of smell, for when the hunters overtake their quarry, they're routed by Klaus's wolf friend Lilli. Klaus and Lilli take refuge at an isolated cabin. Klaus plays his flute to take his mind of the unfortunate children of Grimsvig, and he experiences a weird psychedelic trip, possibly brought on by his accidentally summoning a group of strange spirits. Under the influence of the spirits, Klaus carves a sackful of toys for the Grimsvig kids, without even being aware of so doing.

The first issue also introduces the sinister Baron Magnus, his wife Dagmar, and their child Jonas, though the only one given much character is the boy, who wants all the children in town to be deprived because nothing satisfies him. But while Jonas pouts and Dagmar suffers for knowing what a Scrooge she's married, Klaus returns to Grimsvig, penetrates its defenses and begins leaving toys for the local kids. After Baron Magnus takes some of the toys to his castle, Dagmar sees one and recognizes in it the craftsmanship of her former lover Klaus. In due time one learns that Klaus had been a city-guard in earlier years, but Magnus framed him for killing Dagmar's father, after which Klaus was abandoned to die in the snows while Dagmar married Magnus on the rebound.

Issue #3 expands on Magnus's cruelty, showing that he treats the adult men of the town no better than their children, relentlessly working them to death in the coal mines. Magnus's real purpose for the mining is to provide sacrifices to a subterranean demon. This entity is never named, but some references claim that he's a revised version of The Krampus, but one who wants to devour children rather than just punishing them. (The Krampus and Klaus represent opposite attitudes toward children, one believing that no children are innocent, while the other asserts that they all are.) There's one brief scene of a congregation at a Christian church, though the priest just pontificates about "salvation" and shows no will to oppose Magnus's cruel treatment of the people. During this time Klaus continues to make unsanctioned visits to Grimsvig, playing merry pranks, such as packing snow around a loutish guard named Olav so that he looks like a snowman. (Possibly a FROZEN in-joke?) Issue #4 fills in the backstory and somewhat reconciles Klaus and Dagmar, but Baron Magnus has a plan to trap "Santa" with a letter from his not-entirely-willing son Jonas.

Klaus tries to encourage the miners to rebel, but his kryptonite is children. He escapes Magnus's trap, but not without wounds. After one child betrays him, another succors him, taking him out of town to Klaus's hidden refuge. But this provides the "Santa" with only temporary respite, for Magnus and his men overtake Klaus once again. Like many a comics-villain, Magnus leaves the hero in dire straits rather than simply killing him, and so of course the hero escapes this peril as well. Magnus lures the children of Grimsvig for a feast, but only to fatten them up for the consumption of the Krampus. Thus the stage is set for a major battle between the good spirit of Yuletime and his diametrical opposite.

Though Magnus is damned for his efforts to control the spirits of his subjects, among other crimes, Jonas is allowed to reform despite his father's influence, reinforcing a theme of redemption that is, as I noted earlier, not specifically Christian. Though the majority of Dan Mora's panels emphasize the barbarism of medieval Scandinavia, he excels whenever Morrison's script calls on the artist to depict the wild, abstract shapes of the spirit domain, particularly in the above-cited psychedelic "trip." I may end up saving some of the later KLAUS outings as "presents" for myself in future Xmas posts.