"Silent Night"

I know what you're thinking: "Did he sing six Christmas carols or only five?" Well to tell you the truth, in all this merriment I kinda lost track myself. But being that this here is a candy cane, the most festive treat in the world, and would fill your heart with holiday joy, you've gotta ask yourself one question: "Do I feel jolly?" Well, do ya, punk?

Oh man--OH MAN, PEOPLE! We now come to...this, and there's a part of me that thinks I really am participating in some sort of war on Christmas by posting it. As you probably know, this was written in 1945 but not published until the seventies. I have to say, while I certainly don't approve of suppressing Barks stories, you can kinda understand the editors' viewpoint here, in a way that you couldn't with the censored parts of "Trick or Treat." Barks' cheerful desecration of holiday spirit is unrelentingly hard-edged and violent in a way that you rarely see in Barks, and when you combine that with the wholly sentiment-free take on the holiday...well, it's no surprise.

So the first fun fact to be noted here is that this first half-page isn't actually Barks; it was lost at some point; this is a 2001 Egmont effort at recreating what it likely would've looked like. And...it's really amazing work. Daan Jippes' art is, to my eyes, absolutely indistinguishable from Barks' own in this story. I mean, I can point out things that might be not quite totally Barksian, but that's probably just because I know it's not Barks. If I hadn't been told, I would never have suspected, and even now that I have been, I'm still frankly not sure I believe it. Well done all 'round!

Now, we do come to Barks. Donald's semi-archaic maundering is right on point, and hilarious and great. Seriously, where the HECK did Barks run across the word "gloaming?" Also great is how quickly he pivots to drill-sergeant sternness: we WILL spread Good Cheer, goddamit! I guess the fact that he envisions it as "drenching" everyone with "typhoons of good cheer" was a hint.

I mean, it's impressive, really, how instantaneously he weaponizes the idea of Christmas cheer. Look at the nephews in the top right: you can totally see where Jippes got the inspiration for the weird poses he likes to put the characters in.

I also like the way Barks brings across the idea of dissonant loudness, both with their poses and the way he styles the lyrics. Personally, I would be HONORED if a buncha ducks came up to my house and started quacking at me in a rhythmic(ish) manner.

"To force cheer onto the world." That's telling, innit? The thing about this story--and I think what you could say in its defense, if you were trying to defend it from charges of being excessively cynical--is, I somehow don't get the impression that it's an attack on the holiday per se. Maybe a little bit on people who want to FORCE you to celebrate in a prescribed way, but for the most part, I get the impression that Christmas is just providing a handy vehicle for this loud, energetic tomfoolery. And that's all right with me.

Donald's Caterwauling Face there is just about perfect. Jones! Why did it have to be Jones? For someone who doesn't like having Christmas music sung at him, he sure does seem to own a book entitled Soulful Carols. Even if he's trying to get rid of it here.

Imagine being that devoted to the idea of using Christmas music as a fuck-you. I mean, it's interesting stuff, really: an initially perfectly fun and harmless idea--"Let's go caroling!"--so quickly becomes a pitched battle. The question is: was Donald's thinking on the matter ever benign? It really does seem that way for a few panels in the beginning, but given the rapidity that it morphs into war, you have to wonder. Was he just looking for trouble, like in that one ten-pager where he's allegedly looking for peace and quiet but conveniently brings along all his loudest noisemakers for violently disproportionate retaliation against any perceived sound? Let's ask: what would have happened if the people he and HDL carolled at had been receptive to the message of good will toward all men? Would it all have been just a buncha festive fun for all in that case? I do not have answers to these questions. What do you think?

Do you have to admire Donald's determination? Well, you have to marvel at it a bit I think, at least.

You know, I really don't even have a clear idea of what alum IS. I see it in the spice aisle occasionally and I think, huh. That's the thing that occasionally prevents people/dogs from talking/smelling in Barks stories. Under what circumstances would I use it in food? Sounds upleasant. And does it really work that way? Well, this is demon alum, so it may be a special case.

Yup, that's a lotta speakers all right. Note Jones' paintings of a viking longship (?) and of squiggly pink and grey lines. Also, the grand piano and suit of armor. What's this guy's deal, anyway?

I mean...yeah, I can see, as a Western editor, how I might be reluctant to run this. Not that I'm not kind of amazed by it, but boy. I dunno. I like it, but I also recognize that it's pretty extreme and perhaps not to all tastes. It's worth noting that when Barks reworked this story in 1961 (as "Terrible Tourist"), this conclusion was significantly toned down: Donald just gets a kick in the ass.

-->

Ha ha! Don't worry! We'll have something a bit more festive next time!