In France, while I still have the say-so, we do not like the Noël so much. We think maybe Jesus is not too good. So we will make it go away. We call Décembre “Frigidaire,” you know? Like your icebox. We call Virgin Mary “Sophia, the Goddess of Wisdom.” We let Le Père Noël keep his name — Why not? — but we cut his head off.
Now that I am burning in the hell forever, I think maybe Noël is not so bad. You get the snow. You get the man of snow. You get little presents. I most specially enjoy the work of the great poupée makers of my France. They make this enchanting poupée of the “homme de neige.” But I must leave him up here so he will not melt in les flammes de l’enfer.
Oh! I forget almost! John-Jack Rousseau sends you his bitter curses from the pit of endless pain. Ha ha. John-Jack is so funny. Me, I say, Joyeux Noël et bonnes fêtes!
Filed under: French, My Friends, Statue, Wonderful | Tagged: Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Joyeux Noël, Le Père Noël, Saint-Just
