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Nick Smith

AP Literature, Period 6

Mr. Price

22 December 2016

Final- Semester One

Story

Even as an adult, Id always somehow believed in Santa Claus. It was a stupid thought,

sure, but I just couldnt get rid of it. Renouncing my belief in the big bowl of Jell-O would have

been sacrilege. Id loved him so much as a kid, and even though I now had kids of my own, I

couldnt not believe that he somehow existed. And sure, I thought that the Santa that came to my

childrens preschool Christmas party every year was the real one too. If he could circumnavigate

the globe in a few hours and stop at every house to climb down a chimney, eat some cookies,

drink some milk, drop off some presents, sign some letters, climb back up the chimney, and take

off again at every other house, then he could stop by a preschool for a half-hour. So I was excited

at the prospect of seeing my favorite mythical figure live and in person.

The drive down to the auditorium was uneventful. I sent my kids backstage to get ready

for their little Christmas carolling session and moved in among the other adults, who were

milling around and sipping cocoa. They responded to my enthusiasm with general indifference.

My Cant you wait to see the man himselfs met with raised eyebrows and suppressed guffaws.

After a few minutes, the principal walked onto the stage and gave her introduction. Id forced my

way to a front-row seat to see if I could catch his eye. The speech seemed to last for years. I

fidgeted relentlessly, waiting for that velvet curtain to rise and waiting to see my lifelong friend.

Finally, after an eon of waiting, the curtain rose. The kids stood in rows, all in red and green
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Christmas sweaters and reindeer antlers made the day before. They went through the motions-

Jingle Bells, Joy to the World, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. And if the waiting for

the concert had been an eon, the waiting for Santa to make his glorious entrance took an eternity.

Finally, the kids launched into the last song on the program- Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

And then it happened.

Santa Claus strode out onto the stage, laughing and ho-ho-hoing. I began to applaud and

laugh alongside everyone else- but something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The

laughter from the crowd was derisive and scornful, the expression on Santas face was not one of

jollity, but one of horror, and out of the recesses of his famous red coat slid most of a jacket!

I couldnt breathe. I couldnt think. A haze filled my vision, and even after Santa

recovered his stuffing and his composure, and began bouncing children on his knee, I sat stone-

faced, staring, uncomprehending. The world had cracked asunder beneath my feet, and I was

falling, falling, away from everyone Id ever known or cared about or loved, everything that Id

ever accepted to be real or factual, everything in the world that was provable and quantifiable.

And rattling through my brain unceasingly was that image, that hated image, of Santas artificial

belly, of the crowd jeering, of my child, MY CHILD, talking to a fake Santa Claus, an imposter,

a stain on the face of Christmas.

I felt someone shake my arm. I talked to Santa! my daughter said, smiling ignorantly. I

swiveled my head slowly, cast my gaze around the room. Santa was gone, his belly with him.

Children were greeting their parents and telling them about their conversations with that bastion

of blind trust and misinformation. How I despised them! How terrible they were, spreading their

filthy lies to the rest of the world! I felt exhausted, drained. I never wanted to move again. My
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child once again shook my arm annoyingly. I stood up, rolled my eyes in depressed resignation,

and took my children home.

How the new perspective changes the tone

The perspective is not that of a Santa Claus undergoing a revelation, but an adult Santa

believer undergoing a revelation. While the original story displayed only the positive effects of

the reveal of Santas belly to the rest of the world, the different point of view shows a more

negative aspect of the story- a believer becoming disenchanted with the legend of Santa Claus.

This rock-solid fact of life, that Santa Claus exists, is suddenly wrenched away from the narrator,

who is now forced to cope with the horrors of the fact that Santa isnt real.

The change in point of view makes the tone much darker, as an adult is required to deal

with an essential part of their concept of reality suddenly changing. Instead of a light-hearted,

inspirational story about the joys of Christmas and the innocence of children, the change in

narration allows for the reader to see a darker potential consequence of the events depicted in

Joy of Santa not lost. The shift in point of view affects the tone by making it much darker than

the work it is based off of by showing another side of the story of Santa losing his stomach.

While the original story also is partly about a Santa believer having his belief removed,

this story is primarily about a Santa believer having their belief destroyed. The change in

perspective, however, allows for a different reaction to the loss of Santas stomach. The child is

young in the original story. He can deal with the idea that Santa isnt real, since he hasnt been

exposed to the idea that Santa is real for very long. The adult, meanwhile, has resisted popular

culture (and probably their peers) for most of their life, and now has concrete, non-refutable

evidence that Santa (or at least their Santa) does not exist.