No Gnomes
This charming gnome has been on our staircase for many years. At some point my two-year-old granddaughter decided she was not keen on him. She was quite distressed when she saw him, and announced “no gnomes”. Thus, the poor guy has to hide in the closet whenever the kids are coming to town, so granddaughter does not get distressed. Unclear when he can emerge from the closet banishment.
This particular fellow is made of cast iron, and painted, probably c. 1950 or so. I suspect he is a door stop as he is quite heavy. Gnomes are often placed in gardens, but putting him outside would likely cause his paint to wear away and the darn thing to rust. I picked him up at a local flea market many years ago, and he’s been near our front door ever since.
The Oracle explains the idea of garden gnomes began in 1844 when a German company sold small ceramic statues. The term “gnomen-figuren” means “miniature figurines” in German. However, the Germans did not invent the idea of a gnome – that came from ancient mythology. The god Priapus was considered a fertility god, and protected beehives, flocks and vineyards (those worried about their wine). The Romans honored statues of Priapus in their gardens, and the imagery spread with the Roman Empire’s trek across Europe. While their popularity waned over the years, Disney’s animated film “Snow White and The Seven Dwarves” (1937) created a new craze for gnome statues. In the 1990’s, pranks of stealing garden gnomes became popular, and the French movie “Amelie” (2001) has wonderful bits of this idea in its story line.
Being curious, I turned to The Oracle to find out what the difference between a gnome and a troll might be. It seems trolls are from Scandinavian mythology. They are grotesque, brutish monsters, and came in many sizes. Contemporarily, we think of trolls as small sized, like gnomes, which the Norwegians refer to as “Troblins”. The English began using the term “troll” around 1600 as a term to describe a folk creature who is antagonistic and unfriendly to people. Modern English uses “trolling” interchangeably with “trawling” – i.e. trolling for fish or compliments.
“Troll” was first used to describe behavior on the internet in 1992. I am not familiar with the site “alt.folklore.urban” which was a very early internet chat group (basically). The group used the term to refer to threads that attracted comments from new members as “trolling for newbies”. Eventually the concept of trolling became a negative one, and we now all recognize the dangers of the wild web where trolls lurk. The modern definition of a troll (Wikipedia) is someone who posts deliberately offensive messages online or in real life, to cause people harm or distress.
I’m afraid to say that while my charming (and benign) gnome was hiding in the closet over my birthday weekend, a Family Troll landed with a plop amid my birthday presents. Some of you are aware my family of origin is filled with siblings with whom I no longer interact. One such sibling sent me a text as my children, partners and hubby sat enjoying cake and presents for my birthday. In a peculiar approach, the text opened by indicating I was a “b-tch who had turned my family against him”. I didn’t read past that line, as the opening was a tad off-putting. I gather, as my children read the rest, this was supposed to be an olive branch to begin having a relationship. Honestly. I am grateful for the text in an odd way, because it made it clear to my adult children (and their partners) the type of nasty trolls I had in my childhood home. At kids’ request, I blocked this sibling after sending a reply, and I felt incredibly lucky to have my children there to take over the communication and shut down the nastiness.
Trolls are definitely nasty, and should be avoided at all costs. They are always antagonistic and unfriendly, and are not good for us. Gnomes, however, are. How could they not be as they are protecting our wine?! And the bees – and we all know the bees need all the help they can get these days (see The Oracle for Bee Hive Collapse Syndrome). After the kids left, I did move my gnome out from the closet. I dusted him off, gave him a pat for understanding his banishment, and hope I remember to tuck him away the next time the granddaughter comes to stay. Eventually I hope she will understand the difference between sweet gnomes and nasty trolls.