“If I had lived in ancient times, I probably would have set my straw goat on fire”: the surprising story of straw goats
The straw goat is a traditional Finnish Christmas decoration with a fiery history unfamiliar to many. Journalist Kirsi Turunen delved into it, inspired by her own treasure—as it happens, her oldest ornament is a straw goat named Toivo, bought at a flea market.
My straw goat was looking rather lonely, so I found it a companion at a flea market. I named the pair Vili and Toivo after two late great-uncles: Vili was slender and wiry, while Toivo was a bit plumper. Once a year, the straw goats emerge from the basement to join our Christmas celebrations.
If I had lived in ancient times, I probably would have set my straw goat on fire. The goat is an age-old symbol of fertility in the Nordic tradition. It was, and still is, crafted from rye or wheat straw and then burned to ensure fertility and a good grain harvest. The grain heads on top are vestiges of ancient hopes for abundant crops.
These days, the straw goat is only a Christmas decoration, but at one time people believed it held magical powers. Straw goats were also used to capture evil spirits that roamed in the dark season and were at their fiercest around the winter solstice. The goats lured these malevolent spirits inside, keeping the house in peace. Eventually, the goats were burned on the dung heap, spirits and all.
“These days, the straw goat is only a Christmas decoration, but at one time people believed it held magical powers.”
Straw work began after the grain was harvested. In the old days, straw decorations were first made for the harvest festival, kekri, and only later for Christmas. Not all straw went to goats or himmeli mobiles; on Christmas Eve, the house was prepared for festivities by spreading straw on the floor to encourage a good harvest. People weren’t supposed to roll in it too much, or the grain would develop thistles. The practice was risky, as open fires in timber homes could easily spark a blaze. Once rugs became more common, spreading straw on the floor was abandoned.
Even Santa Claus—or rather his Finnish predecessor, the nuuttipukki—was disguised as a goat, a figure in fertility rites. He wore horns on his head, a sheepskin on his back, and a birch-bark mask on his face. The nuuttipukki and his rowdy entourage went from house to house begging masters for shots of liquor. Hosts obliged, believing it would bring a good harvest and healthy heirs.
Today’s Santa Claus Joulupukki shares only the “pukki” name with the animal-like nuuttipukki. His sheepskin or inside-out fur coat was replaced in the 1920s by a red suit, inspired by a Coca-Cola advertisement.
