Chased by the gloso! (© Richard
Svensson)
Welcome to a seasonal ShukerNature post,
featuring a little-known but greatly-feared preternatural creature long
associated with Swedish Yuletide.
In Britain, the animals most closely linked to
Christmastime via folklore and other traditions include such familiar and
generally friendly species as the robin, the reindeer, and the turkey. In Skåne
and Blekinge, the two southernmost provinces of Sweden, conversely, a very different, and far more
daunting, creature pervades the Season of Goodwill, and its presence is
anything but good. Scarcely known outside its Scandinavian provenance,
outwardly it resembles a pig, but no ordinary one, for this preternatural
entity is in many ways the porcine equivalent of Britain's phantasmal Black Dogs, and is just as
dangerous!
Most commonly referred to as the gloso (other
names for it include the galoppso and the gluppso, all translating as
'galloping sow'), this dire beast is grim in every sense of the word. This is
because the gloso is a church grim (or kyrkogrim in Sweden), i.e. a supernatural
creature derived from the spirit of an animal or person supposedly sacrificed when
the foundation of a church was built, and which now protects the church and its
grounds for all eternity, and cannot be killed by any normal weapon. Generally,
the gloso lives either within the cemetery of the church to which it is bound,
or within a mound in a field directly adjacent to that church.
A stop-motion puppet of the
gloso from a film by Richard Svensson (© Richard Svensson)
Those unfortunate enough to have encountered
this terrifying entity liken it in basic appearance to an enormous female domestic
pig, usually jet-black in colour (though sometimes ghostly white), but with a
ridge of razor-sharp spines or bristles running down the centre of its back, a
pair of huge tusks curving out from its jaws, eyes that glow a fiery red, and
the fearful yet very real ability to breathe fire. Other tangible, physical
abilities attributed to the gloso, and which thereby distinguish it from
insubstantial ghosts or spectres, include its predilection for devouring fresh
corpses in the churchyard and for sharpening its tusks upon gravestones. It
also leaves visible tracks in its wake.
The gloso can be encountered at any time
during the year, but it is said to be at its most malign during the week
linking Christmas and the New Year. And yet it is during this same week when it
can also be its most beneficial – provided a certain magical rite associated
with it is performed correctly. If this rite is not, however, the person
performing it will not live to see in the New Year!
According to Swedish legend, on the evening
of Christmas Day (and also on New Year's Eve) anyone can discover everything
that will happen to them during the incoming New Year if they are brave enough
to withstand an assault by the gloso. The ritual stipulates that after the sun
has set, you must visit four different churches in four different parishes,
walk around each church in an anti-clockwise direction, and then blow through
the keyhole of each church's door. After blowing through the keyhole of the
fourth church's door, if you then peer through it you will witness all of the
most notable events that await you in the New Year, rushing before your eyes in
a rapid stream of images like a speeded-up movie film.
Another view of the stop-motion
gloso puppet from a film by Richard Svensson (© Richard Svensson)
But for such precious insights, you must pay
a steep price – the wrath of the gloso. For it will abruptly appear and chase
after you, spurting hot blasts of fire at your rear end and striving to run
between your legs so that its ridge of razor-sharp bristles can rip you apart.
Happily, however, if you are brave enough to attempt the feat, there is one way
in which this dread beast can be pacified – by turning around and facing it,
with an arm outstretched, offering it a loaf of bread. If the gloso allows you
to feed it the bread, you are safe. If not...
In some variations upon this legend, the same
gift of New Year foresight can be obtained by confronting the gloso at a
crossroads instead. As a teenager, the maternal grandmother of Swedish artist
and cryptozoologist Richard Svensson once visited a crossroads in Blekinge on
New Year's Eve for the express purpose of conjuring forth the gloso – though
merely to see it rather than to witness what the New Year held in store for
her. (Un)fortunately, however, the gloso failed to materialise.
The gloso, from a bestiary by
Richard Svensson (© Richard Svensson)
The gloso is also part of a much lengthier,
more complex magical ritual in which the person taking part is hoping to gain
psychic talents, and this multi-stage ritual has to be performed on several
different magically-potent dates, including Christmas night once again. Here is
how Swedish folklorist Håkan Lindh described it to me:
"The
ritual was a kind of vision-quest that a person who wanted to gain psychic
gifts undertook several years in a row. After a bit of fasting he went out,
under absolute silence, on a night-time walk to powerful places, a graveyard, a
stream running towards north, a holy well, etc, and during these walks he was
given trials. One of these was Gloso, and he avoided danger by just keeping his
legs together and refusing to show fear. If he did, he came to no harm and
gained a bit of magic power. Next year he met something else, a dragon turned
into a chicken, for example, Odin on a horse, a band of aggressive Vättar
[Norse nature spirits], and so on and on. While the ceremony went on, he got
visions about who would die in the different homes he passed by, who would get
ill, and what he could do to cure those illnesses. He also gained material
magic tools too during these walks, like bones from dead people etc.
"This ritual continued to be performed until c.150 years ago, and I personally know a few who have tried it recently."
In some Swedish traditions, moreover, the
gloso haunts lonely roads where murders have occurred. Håkan has mentioned to
me that just a few miles north of his home village in Halland, Skåne, is one
such locality (where a murder took place during a botched robbery), and that
alleged sightings of the gloso have been reported there and in the woods
nearby.
It is possible that the gloso is a remnant of
earlier Nordic legends appertaining to Gullinburste ('Golden Hair'). Named
after its golden bristles, and also known as Slidrugtanne ('Horrible Tusks'), this
was the great boar that pulled the chariot of the Norse deity Frey, god of
fertility and pleasure. Moreover, in Blekinge there is even a local myth neatly
combining Norse tradition with Christianity, in which every year St Thomas, armed with a mighty sword, rides a tamed
gloso during the Christmas week to rid the land of fatally-alluring
troll-maidens and other malevolent pagan beings - especially during the evening
of 21 December, known as Thomas's Eve. Presumably, his saintly status affords
him immunity from being torn in two by his gloso's lethal back-bristles while
riding it!
The Norse god Frey with the
great boar Gullinburste (Johannes Gehrts, 1901)
In light of such a horror as the gloso,
suddenly even our own Black Dogs, Owlmen, and other British zooform entities
seem positively tame by comparison. So I very sincerely hope that every ShukerNature
reader's Yuletide celebrations this year will be blessed by a notable absence
of fire-breathing pigs!
My most grateful thanks to Richard Svensson
and Håkan Lindh for generously providing me with plentiful information
concerning the gloso, and also to Richard for so kindly permitting me to
include his superb illustrations in this ShukerNature post.
Chased by the gloso! (second
version) (© Richard Svensson)
Interesting to consider the role of Frey/St Thomas in the origin of Pratchett's famous winter celebration character, the Hogfather....
ReplyDeleteHere in Denmark we have stories about a similar entity, sometimes called the glumso ("gloomy sow") or gravso ("grave sow") instead.
ReplyDelete