Rust Belt Mythology: Detroit's "Nain Rouge"
The Motor City's supernatural, mischief-loving "Red Dwarf"
I’ve always been fascinated with mythology, from wherever it derives from in the world. Hell, I used to run a website called “Mr. P.’s Mythopedia” where I wrote up stories about little known mythological gods, goddesses, beings and creatures from all sorts of different cultures out there around the globe, past and present. There are, unsurprisingly, an almost unlimited amount of stories from across time and location in human history, and some of them are truly OUT THERE. Hugely fun stuff to read about and exponentially more fun to write about!
Taking my love for all things mythological and melding it with my equal enamorada for all things Rust Belt, I thought I’d go on a search for any sort of folklore, tall tales, cryptids or any other tales of high strangeness from throughout the region which is a rather large area when you actually think about all of the land that that entails. The boundaries of the Rust Belt are not precisely defined, but it generally includes parts of the Midwest and Northeast, including the states of Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, New York and also sizable chunks of Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, Kentucky, West Virginia and Maryland. Basically anywhere where industries and the resources involved in making said industries operated in massive amounts, but now…don’t as much. Without going into the whole history of the Rust Belt, it’s understood that it is the region in the United States characterized by its historical reliance on manufacturing, particularly steel production, and its subsequent economic decline due to deindustrialization. Tired, worn down and gritty, but with a population of fighters, survivors and solid, good folks whose families came from a slew of countries around the world to take advantage of all of those old industrial work opportunities. Steel mills, mines, automobile factories, etc. You get the idea. Many of those people brought all sorts of legends with them and some of those became a part of the new cultural narrative that would be formed as our American culture churned, mixed and became something wholly more than the sum of its parts. Those stories are still with us today and help define as a region.
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that one of the places that tall tales and a penchant for the bizarre took hold was the Motor City; the larger than life metropolis of Detroit, Michigan. With an influx of Europeans from all over the continent sliding in to mix with the Native American folks who claimed the place first and the French settler remnants who had parked their butts in the area before the British ,and later Americans, took over, you had a rich soil in which to grow some truly insane tales over the years. And no story so crazy and unique as that about Detroit’s NAIN ROUGE, a mysterious supernatural being who has supposedly been in the D from the very beginning, causing mayhem, throwing shade and in general, being a royal pain in the ass. Intrigued? I know I was when I first heard about him some years back.
(Label for Woodberry Wine - Nain Rouge Red wine)
So then, who is this mysterious character, so well known to the beleaguered citizens of the Motor City throughout its centuries-long existence? Well, to start, the Nain Rouge, often referred to as the "Red Dwarf" or "Demon of Detroit," is a rather troublesome creature that plays large into the city’s own personal folklore. Which is pretty damn cool, as how many cities can claim to have their own patron mythological character, even if as cranky and cantankerous a being as the Nain? Its rather detailed story is deeply rooted in the city's history (as well as the lore of local Native American tribes that called the area home) and has become an integral part of its modern culture, as we’ll soon see.
The Nain Rouge is said to be a malevolent, mischievous, and often maleficent creature, who is believed to bring extreme bad luck and misfortune to Detroit and its residents. Its origins in the early French settlement in the area are proposed as deriving from Norman-French tales of the lutin, a type of hobgoblin, alongside local Native American legends of an "impish offspring of the Stone God," whomever the Stone God might have been. He bears a striking resemblance to the pukwudgie, or Puck-wudj-ininee of Wampanoag (an East Coast Native American tribe) tradition, translated as "little wild man of the woods that vanishes," which describes the Nain pretty well. According to Wampanoag lore, a person who annoyed a pukwudgie would be subject to nasty tricks by it, or subject to being followed by the pukwudgie, who would cause trouble for them. Check that off on the Nain’s list of personal accomplishments. Pukwudgies are also known to kidnap people for the heck of it, push them off cliffs because why not, attack their victims with short knives and spears, and are said to toss sand into the eyes of unsuspecting victims to blind them. The Nain himself HASN’T been tagged with any of those behaviors, but once you catch up on his rather checkered history, you might not put any of that sort of beastly shenanigans past him. Whatever his origin, he has become quite the character in his own story.
The Nain Rouge: Demon or Misunderstood Supernatural Being?
The origins of the Nain Rouge legend can be traced back to Detroit's early French colonial period in the 18th century. According to legend, the Nain Rouge was first spotted in Detroit in 1701 when Antoine Laumet de La Mothe, sieur de Cadillac, founded the city (yes, the guy they named the car after).
Antoine Laumet de La Mothe, sieur de Cadillac (at far right)
According to the tales told, Cadillac, who was, truth be told, sort of an ass, was told by a fortune teller that he’d one day cross paths with a tiny red troublemaker. The wise old lady gravely warned him: “Don’t mess with the Nain Rouge.” Basically, if Cadillac were to run into any being that might fit that description, show some respect, be cordial, let the dude pass, and go about your merry business. Naturally, in typical aristocratic French colonial tradition, Cadillac completely ignored this wisdom, and would learn to regret it not long after the warning. It is said that Cadillac encountered the Nain Rouge near the banks of the Detroit River while out for an evening constitutional, and rather than follow the fortune teller’s advice, when he did spy the little red man sauntering his way, in a typically bougie high class colonial French manner, he smacked it with his cane and shouted, "Get out of my way, you red imp!" Other epithets might or might not have been hurled, but you get the idea. The Nain Rouge promptly hoisted both long and jagged nailed middle fingers at Cadillac and told him in no uncertain terms that his luck was up; bad times were a comin’ for the wealthy aristocrat and the city he had just recently founded. And with a gravelly cackle, a few more choice naughty words and a rude (but highly justified) shake of his red ass, the Nain poofed out of view. Cadillac sneered, laughed it off and continued smarmily along his way. He’d soon regret this rather unnecessary behavior.
Sure enough, a string of bad luck befell Cadillac shortly after his encounter with the little red demon; he was charged by the high officials of New France with abuse of power and was reassigned to a backwater outpost in Louisiana, where he shortly thereafter tanked as well. He later returned to France, where he was briefly imprisoned and eventually lost his fortune in some shady and scandalous business. Cadillac died at seventy-two, probably never thinking to ask the Nain for forgiveness or apologizing for his doofus behavior. Cadillac might have shuffled off this mortal coil, but Detroit has been paying the price for his upper-crust bullshit behavior ever since. Even though Cadillac paid a steep price for his snooty buffoonery, the Nain wasn’t the type to let go of a grudge; he was so incensed that he took it out on the town that Cadillac had founded, showing up again and again over the centuries since to cause mighty big headaches for the D (no doubt reveling in the suffering that he put into motion).
Legend holds that the Nain Rouge's appearance would always herald in terrible events for the city. The creature is said to have appeared on July 30, 1763, right before the Battle of Bloody Run, where 58 British soldiers stationed at Fort Detroit were slaughtered by Native Americans from Chief Pontiac’s Ottawa tribe. Supposedly, the Nain Rouge morbidly "danced among the corpses" on the banks of the Detroit River after the battle, and it was stated that the river "turned red with blood" for days after. Furthermore, according to the legends told, all the misfortunes of General and later Governor William Hull leading to the surrender of Detroit to the British in the War of 1812 are blamed on the Nain Rouge. Everything from the Great Fire of 1805, the vicious and bloody race riots in 1967, Detroit’s economic crash in the 1970’s, the decline of the auto industry, crushing poverty and continuing social woes, multiple crime waves over the years, all the way to the continual loss of the Lions and Tigers has been assigned to the Nain’s cursed shenanigans. Seems like a lot to toss onto the back of one angry red dwarf, but who knows how deep the Nain’s long lasting rage goes?
What exactly does the Nain look like? Hard to really say, though he is typically described as a small, red-skinned humanoid creature with glowing eyes, sharp teeth, and a sinister grin. Basically a little red devil with an attitude and a foul mouth. Or at least that’s how the story goes. Maybe he’s a decent fellow if shown respect, but clearly, he’s still pissed about Cadillac’s dickish demeanor at their meeting centuries ago. He’s not letting it go.
Detroit DOES try to make up for it and as a whole tries to let the Nain know that the city apologizes for Cadillac’s tomfoolery, and he seems to be coming around, at least in little ways. The city has been on a big rebound in recent years, so maybe he’s been loosening up a bit as the years go by. Either way, the legend of the Nain Rouge has persisted over the centuries and has become a part of Detroit's cultural identity. Each year, the city hosts a "Marche du Nain Rouge" or "March of the Nain Rouge," which is a colorful and lively parade that takes place in the Cass Corridor neighborhood (this year’s is MARCH 23rd, and come hell or high water, I WILL BE THERE, camera at the ready!). Participants dress up in zany costumes, often depicting the Nain himself, celebrate Detroit's resilience and determination in the face of adversity, and show the red dwarf some much deserved and needed love and respect. Or maybe not, as the parade IS actually there to allow Detroiters to chase the poor guy off for one more year. Some believe that holding the annual march and acknowledging the Nain Rouge helps ward off misfortune and bad luck, and as Detroit’s fortunes seem to be on the upswing as of late, perhaps the gestures of goodwill to the mischievous red imp are working. I like to think the Nain actually hangs out in the midst of the revelry, getting raucous and crazy with the rest of the crowd, partying down with the throng of festive fellow Detroiters in the streets. He IS one of them, after all!
Scenes from Detroit’s “March du Nain Rouge”
In literature and popular culture, the Nain Rouge has been featured in various stories, books, and even graphic novels, further cementing its place in Detroit's modern folklore. He’s been featured on television programs focusing on mythological monsters and even has his own brand of wine. The guy is everywhere these days!
Illustration: “The Nain Rouge - The Red Legend” by Josef Bastian
I think I’ve made the point that the legend of the Nain Rouge serves as a unique and quirky aspect of Detroit's history and culture. While it may be rooted in superstition and mythology, it reflects the city's ability to embrace its past and face challenges with a sense of humor and community spirit. Today, the Nain Rouge is more of a symbol of Detroit's resilience and determination than a harbinger of doom, making it a beloved and enduring part of the city's identity. Murals of him exist, he gets a parade all to himself each year, songs have been written about him, and he has a series of children’s books penned about his adventures (misadventures?). Hell, the guy even has his own brewery in the D!
One often has to wonder if the Nain really is out there, keeping an eye on modern Detroiters, roaming the backstreets, camping out in the burned out houses that dot the wastelands. He sort of fits the personality of the town he cursed and now maybe helps; cranky but fair, cantankerous but helpful to and watchful over those who show him respect. There are days when I don’t wonder if we’ll bump into the Nain, just chilling out on a dimly lit room inside an abandoned school, church or factory, maybe perched on one of the burned out cars one finds in vacant lots or under bridges, staring us down questioningly to see how we’re going to behave. We’ll give him one of our energy drinks, greet him with a “s’up” and invite him to chill with us for a spell, gazing out over the Detroit’s still vast and crumbling reaches, swapping raunchy tales and making some goodwill. You never know. It could happen!
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