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A review by spenkevich
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
5.0
‘I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.’
Perhaps the ultimate Christmas story, Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol has captivated hearts and minds each holiday season since it’s release in 1843. And what says Christmas quite like using the fear of death to sway a wicked, rich man into opening his eyes to the need for community, for sharing burdens, for using our brief time amongst the living to uplift one another instead of shackling others to debt and misery in order to enrich ourselves at the cost of all that is good and beautiful. Though it is not his death that shakes him up most, but seeing the effects of his actions and learning that empathy is the best path forward. This story is as festive as a tree freshly adorned with lights and has canonized itself as a holiday tradition in the great collage of seasonal influences. Dickens harnesses the joyful mystery of the Christmas season as a searing message of kindness, empathy and rebirth, placing a damned soul on the precipice of his legacy of ruin and causing an introspective trauma with enough blunt force to shatter the ice around his heart and open the possibilities of shared love. We all have our ghosts that haunt us—usually they don’t kidnap us from bed on Christmas Eve to rub our noses in the filth of our making to wash ourselves clean, but this does remind us maybe it could happen to you—and Dickens reminds us all to live better, live for each other as well as ourselves, and to give in to the spirit of the holidays.
‘There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor.’
I have to thank my good friend Kenny for inspiring this read as it is his holiday tradition to have a Dickens December. Which gets me thinking about tradition, especially as I’ve been reading impressing upon the bliss of tradition. The holidays are a magical time because it is a season where it is socially acceptable across all fronts to emote. Sure it has become mired in capitalist steroids of expensive gifts, flashy displays, and all that jazz that pissed the Grinch off enough to rob everyone bare, but underneath it all is a tender heart of compassion and expressions of love that we can return to in our hearts. Traditions are like the shortcut to that passion. This story, for one, is a tradition in my family as I am quite fond of The Muppet’s Christmas Carol, and the power of this narrative to have the pulse of the holidays is part of the reason it has become a tradition for many and has been widely adapted. I grew up on the Alastair Sim version as well, finding it a bit dusty for my childhood tastes but now watching it is a quick route to warm memories. Same with It’s A Wonderful Life, a movie I couldn’t stand as a kid because it was SO long but now I can’t go a December without watching (while usually getting good and wine drunk and shouting along with every line, sorry everyone). It isn’t Christmas for me until my sister and I shout “Merry Christmas Bedford Falls!” to each other in bad Jimmy Stewart impressions and then retort “And a happy new years! In jail!” But enough about Christmas traditions.
This book is a pretty awesome punching up at society. Dickens shows the poor as downtrodden and oppressed, but captures the whole “salt of the earth” elements to show that their resilience and love shines bright enough in the darkness to make this whole tragicomedy of living worth the endeavor. Tiny Tim is a symbol of purity, like a Job unquestioning in his faith of goodness despite the hardships of his reality. And then we have Scrooge. The bad boss, the guy you cross the street to avoid, the man with nothing good to say and only greedy hands that will take your very soul if they can grasp you. Sweet Bob Cratchet labors away for him in the dimly lit office because ‘darkness was cheap, and Scrooge liked it,’ a line that makes me chuckle having worked in a factory where ‘being cold in winter is cheaper’ was a legit response to asking if we can get some heat. Dickens takes dead aim at the ruling elites and, through the help of three ghosts, shows that their money loving ways is a crash course to spiritual ruin and a legacy of shame.
Not to make this sound bleak, because Dickens is quite funny in fact. Also this book still feels wildly relevant in theme and message all these decades later.
I love that this is a ghost story. I love the infusion of horror with Christmas, I think it puts us closer to life by remembering death is part of the deal. I like the theory that the lamp gasses in the Victorian era lead to the telling of ghost stories because everyone was high as shit, which isn’t that different from my own Christmas Eve’s with friends. So carry on that tradition. But it also gets into how rather frightening a lot of religious messaging on hellfire and damned souls can be. Which has never been something I’ve enjoyed about religion but when you mix it with Christmas and tell a story like this, the holiday acts like sugar to sweeten it all into a pretty charming festive treat. Dickens story lives on, and understandably so, because it grabs our primal fears of death and public opinion and asks us to be the better version of ourselves. Because in doing so we can uplift those around us. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays to all my friends. Thanks, Dickens, this was a magical read that put me in some high holiday spirits. Now to go listen to Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, my traditional favorite holiday album.
Perhaps the ultimate Christmas story, Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol has captivated hearts and minds each holiday season since it’s release in 1843. And what says Christmas quite like using the fear of death to sway a wicked, rich man into opening his eyes to the need for community, for sharing burdens, for using our brief time amongst the living to uplift one another instead of shackling others to debt and misery in order to enrich ourselves at the cost of all that is good and beautiful. Though it is not his death that shakes him up most, but seeing the effects of his actions and learning that empathy is the best path forward. This story is as festive as a tree freshly adorned with lights and has canonized itself as a holiday tradition in the great collage of seasonal influences. Dickens harnesses the joyful mystery of the Christmas season as a searing message of kindness, empathy and rebirth, placing a damned soul on the precipice of his legacy of ruin and causing an introspective trauma with enough blunt force to shatter the ice around his heart and open the possibilities of shared love. We all have our ghosts that haunt us—usually they don’t kidnap us from bed on Christmas Eve to rub our noses in the filth of our making to wash ourselves clean, but this does remind us maybe it could happen to you—and Dickens reminds us all to live better, live for each other as well as ourselves, and to give in to the spirit of the holidays.
‘There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor.’
I have to thank my good friend Kenny for inspiring this read as it is his holiday tradition to have a Dickens December. Which gets me thinking about tradition, especially as I’ve been reading impressing upon the bliss of tradition. The holidays are a magical time because it is a season where it is socially acceptable across all fronts to emote. Sure it has become mired in capitalist steroids of expensive gifts, flashy displays, and all that jazz that pissed the Grinch off enough to rob everyone bare, but underneath it all is a tender heart of compassion and expressions of love that we can return to in our hearts. Traditions are like the shortcut to that passion. This story, for one, is a tradition in my family as I am quite fond of The Muppet’s Christmas Carol, and the power of this narrative to have the pulse of the holidays is part of the reason it has become a tradition for many and has been widely adapted. I grew up on the Alastair Sim version as well, finding it a bit dusty for my childhood tastes but now watching it is a quick route to warm memories. Same with It’s A Wonderful Life, a movie I couldn’t stand as a kid because it was SO long but now I can’t go a December without watching (while usually getting good and wine drunk and shouting along with every line, sorry everyone). It isn’t Christmas for me until my sister and I shout “Merry Christmas Bedford Falls!” to each other in bad Jimmy Stewart impressions and then retort “And a happy new years! In jail!” But enough about Christmas traditions.
This book is a pretty awesome punching up at society. Dickens shows the poor as downtrodden and oppressed, but captures the whole “salt of the earth” elements to show that their resilience and love shines bright enough in the darkness to make this whole tragicomedy of living worth the endeavor. Tiny Tim is a symbol of purity, like a Job unquestioning in his faith of goodness despite the hardships of his reality. And then we have Scrooge. The bad boss, the guy you cross the street to avoid, the man with nothing good to say and only greedy hands that will take your very soul if they can grasp you. Sweet Bob Cratchet labors away for him in the dimly lit office because ‘darkness was cheap, and Scrooge liked it,’ a line that makes me chuckle having worked in a factory where ‘being cold in winter is cheaper’ was a legit response to asking if we can get some heat. Dickens takes dead aim at the ruling elites and, through the help of three ghosts, shows that their money loving ways is a crash course to spiritual ruin and a legacy of shame.
Not to make this sound bleak, because Dickens is quite funny in fact. Also this book still feels wildly relevant in theme and message all these decades later.
I love that this is a ghost story. I love the infusion of horror with Christmas, I think it puts us closer to life by remembering death is part of the deal. I like the theory that the lamp gasses in the Victorian era lead to the telling of ghost stories because everyone was high as shit, which isn’t that different from my own Christmas Eve’s with friends. So carry on that tradition. But it also gets into how rather frightening a lot of religious messaging on hellfire and damned souls can be. Which has never been something I’ve enjoyed about religion but when you mix it with Christmas and tell a story like this, the holiday acts like sugar to sweeten it all into a pretty charming festive treat. Dickens story lives on, and understandably so, because it grabs our primal fears of death and public opinion and asks us to be the better version of ourselves. Because in doing so we can uplift those around us. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays to all my friends. Thanks, Dickens, this was a magical read that put me in some high holiday spirits. Now to go listen to Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, my traditional favorite holiday album.