As this festive time approaches its zenith, and as I begin my private chronicles of the world I explore, it seems only right to describe in some small detail, a supposition that I conceived of some years ago, and slowly refined over time. It is a concept that, I confess, has received (to my admittedly limited knowledge) no serious study, and yet I think there is both merit and legitimacy to it.
So, without further ado, it is my proposition that Father Yule, the beloved gift-giving figure of legend so central to Yuletide, is Dwarvish in origin.
Consider first the physical description of the Yule Father. A laughing creature of great girth is he, with a flowing bushy beard of white. In some legends of him I have heard tell that he is a towering Man, tall and great, but in others he is a diminutive figure, and I ascribe the confusion to his adoption among Mannish peoples. My presumption would be that, in the original tales he was a tall Dwarf, which has later been conflated by Men who have focused on his being above average height, *or* of Dwarvish height. Finally, he is invariably said to be clad in a crimson hood and cloak, garb in like manner as certain noble Dwarves are wont to dress.
Next, consider Father Yule’s residence and activity. He is said to dwell far in the frozen north, in lands considered inhospitable by near all - yet is it not so that Dwarves oft make light of climes that others would be daunted by? It has also been said that he dwells in great delved caverns, where long he toils over his labour. And what work be this? Why, the crafting of cunningly wrought toys and trinkets, magically wrought items of wood, metal and glass that range from the simple and exquisite, to the unbelievable and wondrous. Be not this labour a singularly Dwarvish dream?
Then, once a year, Father Yule ventures from his abode on a sleigh drawn by goats (an animal oft used by the Dwarves), distributing his trinkets and delights to many. This, to some, may seem decidedly un-Dwarvish, for in many lands the Dwarves have a reputation for being mercenary and grasping, and alas! it is a reputation not falsely earned. Yet I say also that it is not a full truth. I have been among the Dwarves of Erebor, and though many were indeed desirous and greedy, still more prevalent was their joy in making, and in others beholding their handiwork. Though the Dwarves be bent towards greed, it is not inevitable that they should be so, and few legends capture this better than Father Yule, a creature solely preoccupied with spreading his own works of delight to any who would enjoy them.
Consider also, some of the traditions associated with Yuletide. The drinking of strong and spiced liquors and meads, such as the Dwarves love naturally. The importance of kin and music, both central to Dwarvish culture. And of course, the felling and burning of the Yule-log, a harmless enough practice now - but perhaps, in darker and more savage days, a Dwarven sacrifice to their strange patron Mahal, a symbol of their domination and mastery of nature.
Finally, consider who it is said that dwelleth in the Yule-home, what manner of folk are said to work for the Yule Father in crafting and bringing to fruit his vision? Verily, it is the Fair Folk, the Elves, who are said to dwell there in some number as servants, toiling under his dominion to satisfy his unending task of creation. I put it to you, dear reader, consider this: Be there a more Dwarvish dream of paradise, than a vision of a Dwarven master commanding Elvish vassals to achieve his will, and his will alone?
In summary then, it is my concept that Father Yule, beloved mythical figure of gift-giving in these darkest days of the year, was a Dwarvish myth in origin, and has since been adopted by Mannish folk in many sundry regions. Father Yule’s physical characteristics, his interests and occupations, the assorted traditions that accompany him and his domination of Elvish folk can all be derived from or strongly correlate with Dwarvish traits. It goes without saying that, in the absence of further evidence, it is necessary to treat this supposition as being nothing more than that, though perhaps one worthy of further investigation. Given the otherwise clouded and lost nature of Father Yule’s origins, I believe that a closer inquiry into Dwarf tradition and legend may yield much additional fruit, and will be sure to follow these scattered notes up in due course with a more rigorous investigation in this direction.
