“The Nutcracker” is Actually Terrifying
By: Geoff Maus
Tags: Analysis, Holidays, Ballet

Edelseider, derivative work Lämpel, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

It has become ingrained as part of the December holiday season. Even those among us who have never set foot inside of a theater, or experienced a live dance performance recognize The Nutcracker as part of holiday pop culture. You don’t need to know a damn thing about ballet to recall that there’s an oversized nutcracker (which is often replicated and sold as whimsical tchotchkes which may be cute for mantels and tabletops but even those intended as kitchen items are entirely unpractical for actual nut-cracking), a little girl, maybe a Christmas party, and…some mice, maybe? Rats? Something like that. But where does this come from? What is the story actually about?

First, A Brief History and Synopsis:

The ballet that most of us associate with the story of The Nutcracker, composed by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, was first performed in December of 1892 with choreography by Marius Petipa at the Imperial Russian Ballet. The source material is a story by E. T. A. Hoffman, but this story is somewhat darker than the ballet. (Note: for our purposes, I will focus on the story as presented in the ballet). Although widely recognized and performed today, the original production was generally regarded as kind of boring and was not an audience favorite. It was not until George Balanchine’s reworked staging premiered in 1954 that popularity increased (due, largely, to Maria Tallchief’s elevated performance of the Sugar Plum Fairy) that the tide turned into what is now a December tradition- every ballet company in the US performing The Nutcracker every year as part of their regular seasonal programming.

The story starts on Christmas Eve. At a party, a Christmas tree is trimmed, and children-among them, Clara and her brother Fitz-are given gifts. As a weird owl-clock strikes eight, Drosselmeyer arrives. He is a local councilperson and a part-time magician because of course, he is. He gives the children more gifts, including a wooden nutcracker which nobody cares about except Clara, who is enamored by it…it was a simpler time. Brother Fitz breaks the nutcracker because children are reckless dicks at Christmas time, and Clara is devastated. During the night, as the aforementioned spooky clock strokes midnight, Drosselmeyer returns and suddenly the room is full of mice, the nutcracker has grown to life-size, and gingerbread soldiers arrive only to be eaten by the mice and their king. WHAT THE HELL? The Mouse King (sometimes called the “rat king”…more on that later) wounds the nutcracker, Clara chucks her shoe at him, and the nutcracker stabs him. The nutcracker then transforms into a human prince and escapes with Clara in tow, dragging her to the following fever dream-esque locations: A pine forest with dancing snowflakes and the Land of Sweets-where the quintessential Sugar Plum Fairy reigns. The latter is where a celebration of treats from around the world unfolds including some problematic culturally-caricatured dances which are supposed to represent gifts from China, the Middle East, and Russia. There is then a final waltz, Clara and the Prince take off in a magic sleigh, and that’s it.

The End.

Now let’s dig in, here.

First, let’s talk about Drosselmeyer. Who invited this guy to the party? Any local councilperson who is also a magician and brings presents for children in hopes of watching them dance is not getting my vote at the polls, much less permission to enter my home, but that’s just me. Also, maybe put the owl-clock out on the curb, as it seems to be what summons him inside.

Next, the Rat King. What is a rat king? Well, actually…it’s pretty gross. Historically, it’s not a rat with a crown at all, it’s a series of rats entangled at the tail and stuck together with feces or other sticky substances. Really. Although the origin of the term is unclear, one theory is that it comes from the German Rattenkönig. The existence of such a phenomenon is disputed-often thought to have occurred in the dirty streets of medieval Europe, they could also be pure myth or the product of hoaxes- but the point is that it’s a horrifying concept. In fairness, some productions of the ballet do acknowledge this via clever costuming, and in some translations, the role is simply referred to as the “mouse king” which would seem to lend to a more literal rodent sovereign.

Then, there is the Land of Sweets. Risk of diabetes, tooth decay, AND a side of insensitive cultural appropriation? Tchaikovsky, you shouldn’t have. No, really…you probably shouldn’t have. Come to think of it, too many holiday sweets might be the source of Clara’s nightmare in the first place. When the toys start dancing, it’s time to lay off the gummy bears.

Finally, the strangely abrupt ending leaves us with so many unanswered questions. Does Clara make it home? Is the Prince going to drop her off on his way back to….wherever he lives, and does he need to return the magic sleigh? Does he turn back into a nutcracker or can he stay a human prince? Do Clara’s parents emerge to find the living room covered in mouse corpses and gingerbread soldier crumbs? Who do you call when your daughter is kidnapped by a sentient toy in the night? ….or did the parents orchestrate the whole thing? Maybe this is why they invited Drosselmeyer to the party in the first place. Maybe this is some JonBenét Ramsey shit. Happy Holidays.