12 Days of Chipmunks: “O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)”
DECEMBER TWENTY-FOURTH: HOPE
We’ve reached the final chapter of Ross Bagdasarian Sr.’s magnum opus. Christmas with the Chipmunks is coming to a close, and so is my review. As well as my ability to write any reviews at all. Apparently, someone didn’t get the “remember to use the back entrance” memo. Do you think they deactivate the burglar alarms just because nobody goes to that Lloyd’s any more? Thanks to you, the police have confiscated my typewriter, my documents, and my original vinyl copy of Christmas with the Chipmunks. And although I did have the foresight to hire a lawyer this time, it’s still technically my second offence. I am in real trouble here. And I don’t expect you have any idea how difficult it is to write an article during any trial at all, much less your own. I have to be able to write and speak at the same time and not get the two jumbled together, your honour, and if you’d let me explain, I could tell you that I was nowhere near that skating rink on the night of December 23rd.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6tFp_cAi8M
“O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)” is the greatest disappointment on the album. Not because it is a bad song, like “O Christmastime (Greensleeves)” is, but because it holds the most important message of all—and no one’s ever been able to figure it out. No one. Not even noted Bagdasarian scholars such as myself. I sincerely hope you weren’t reading these articles in the hopes of unlocking the secret to world peace, because whatever the final thread is that ties the whole album together, whatever the detail is on the missing puzzle piece that shows us what we’ve been building for the past 51 years, it’s hidden so deeply within “O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)” we’ll probably never know what it is. If I had to guess, I’d say it has to do with whatever “tannenbaum” means. But I will not guess. I am merely a fish gazing upon a the wreck of a once-mighty ship, wondering if it contains any worms for me to eat. I could never hope to know what it carried before its untimely demise. For that, I am sorry. I cannot tell you what “O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)” means.
But there is more than one way to interpret a song.
Certainly, to listen to “O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)” in any way other than what Bagdasarian intended is nothing short of blasphemy. But if we’re never going to know what he intended, why listen to the song at all? Why bother giving the album a second thought if you know it’s only going to end in disappointment? All I mean to do is give Christmas with the Chipmunks some level of closure. Mock me all you want, but I will be the one moving on with my life, while you cling desperately to the hope that one day you will save the world.
Alvin, Simon and Theodore are gathered around the Christmas tree. They are alone, but they are together. Their father Dave is no longer with them. Perhaps this is their first Christmas without him, and perhaps it isn’t. Either way, he is gone. The Chipmunks have let out their grief, and they have forgiven Dave. Now, they are learning to let themselves forget about him. Already, there is much they have forgotten in his absence; how to dress, how to behave, even how to speak. They remember how to sing Christmas carols, but they don’t know what it is they’re singing about. They merely know how to move their mouths and make the sounds required to harmonize. Soon, this too will be forgotten. Soon, the Chipmunks will no longer remember who Dave was at all. Should we hate them for this? Do they deserve to feel guilty for forgetting the man who gave them everything? Or would Dave have wanted them to move past his chapter in their lives? After all, dwelling on death is only a human trait. Chipmunks don’t mourn, and why should they be forced to? Perhaps it’s time for them to begin a new adventure, to enter a new world. Time for the Chipmunks to return to the evergreen trees—the very same trees they once decorated with a man who would live on only as a distant memory, a fuzzy happy feeling they can’t quite explain, but welcome all the same. And though they no longer remember what Christmas is, they no longer need it. They have found a new day for which they “can hardly stand the wait”:
Tomorrow.
And maybe that’s all we need. Maybe that’s the true meaning of Christmas with the Chipmunks.
THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHIPMUNKS IS OVER
