Marley's Ghost is the herald of the spirits which will haunt Ebenezer Scrooge's Christmas Eve in this illustration by Arthur Rackham for a popular 1915 edition of A Christmas Carol. |
Note—A hardy perennial
makes another appearance. Is it just me,
or has our culture, led by Ebenezer Trump elevated unrepentant Scrooge to icon
and roll model?
To borrow a phrase from one of the author’s
other books, “It was the best of
times, it was the worst of times.” I’m
talking about the 1840’s in the early years of what is now recalled, usually
through rose colored glasses, as the
Victorian Era. Britain mastered the world unchallenged
since the final defeat of Napoleon more than 20 years
before. It presided over a world girdling Empire whose riches and treasures were pouring into the
country. It was ground zero of the industrial
revolution, production of every
sort of goods was on the upswing,
and innovation was making consumer goods cheaper.
The already very wealthy got wealthier.
So did a limited number of clever commoners. A middle
class, serving the administrative
needs of government and corporations, was growing.
But in the countryside
tenant farmers were being evicted to make way for sheep to feed the humming textile mills. Skilled
weavers and other tradesmen
found themselves replaced by whirring machines and plunged into poverty. The displaced
made their way with little hope to the teaming
cities where they were crammed into unspeakable
slums. There was little chance for work for many of
them and they could be—and were—disposed
of immediately if they complained about
12 hour days or starvation wages. Many
turned desperately to begging, petty crime, and of course prostitution and vice of every sort. In London tens of thousands of children lived by their wits on the street. All
of these poor folks were considered dangerous, useless burdens who deserved
their fate because of a lack of moral fiber, natural indolence, and sloth. If the Crown
had given up on public hangings of 12 year old pickpockets, it was only because there
was a whole continent—Australia—to populate with transported prisoners. Otherwise the jails, workhouses, and cemeteries were filled.
Characteristic of prevailing attitudes was what would
happen in Ireland just a handful of
years later. When the potato crop that fed the peasantry failed, British authorities
steadfastly refused relief while
hundreds of thousands died because charity would
“undermine the moral fiber of recipients and sap them of the will to
work.” Sound sort of familiar?
Anyway, this is the England that a successful 31 year old writer named Charles Dickens found himself in.
Once a child of the comfortably
middle class when his father failed
and was jailed for debt young
Charles had been forced to leave his
beloved studies and go to work in a shoe
blacking factory at age 14. The
experience scarred him deeply and
affected his whole world view.
After achieving fame and some level of modest
comfort for his serialized novels,
The
Pickwick Papers and Oliver
Twist, Dickens decided to employ his fame to decry the condition and treatment
of the poor, with which he was all too familiar. After a tour of the Cornish mines which employed child
laborers in dangerous conditions,
and visiting a London ragged School for street urchins, he planned to pen a pamphlet to be called An Appeal
to the People of England, on behalf of the Poor Man’s Child. But finding an audience
at a speech in Manchester covering
the gist of his planned opus was bored and unresponsive, Dickens abruptly changed his plans. He would recast
the appeal as a fictional story.
Thus A Christmas Carol was born. The author hastily scribbled the manuscript
in just six weeks, barely finishing in early December 1843 in time to rush the
manuscript to publication.
A youthful Charles Dickens in 1839 in the first flush of success as a writer four years before publishing A Christmas Carol. |
In
setting his fictional appeal at Christmas,
Dickens was being doubly counter-cultural. It seems that the holiday, once the happiest
of seasons, had fallen into
disrepute and was in actual danger
of being officially abolished from the
calendar—for the second time.
Christmastide had once been a popular event, the official
occasion of Christ’s supposed birthday folded into ancient traditions from both Druidic and Roman times marked with singing,
dancing, general merry making, drinking, and a sort of social-turn-the-tables
in which masters and servants switched places for at least a day.
Oliver Cromwell and the scandalized Puritans put an end to that.
They outlawed the holiday and
imposed draconian punishment on
those discovered trying to celebrate,
even in the privacy of their own homes.
Although
the Restoration had put the religious celebration back on the calendar, its association with Popery—it
was after all Christ’s Mass—discouraged celebration by “loyal” Anglicans and most Protestant Dissenters. Over
the years many customs vanished or
were marginalized—the hanging of greens, country dancing, and
caroling. In fact the words for many traditional
carols were lost until a fad for
folklore began resurrecting them in the early 19th
Century. Christmas Day was generally
considered a work day. Factories and shops were open, as were
government offices and courts.
After
seeing some backsliding on Christmas celebrations—Queen Victoria’s husband Albert,
a Christmas loving German princeling, had erected a Christmas Tree at the Palace and the fashionable were taking up
the custom—conservative Protestant
leaders energized by new
round popular evangelism and hostility to Catholics—were once again agitating
for the holiday to be officially abolished.
Dickens
himself was an apostate Anglican
with no interest in the religious
observation of the Nativity,
which had caused the final alienation
of his tenuous ties to his family. He was at this point in his life associating and worshiping with Unitarians,
the most radical of all of the Dissenting sects who rejected both the divinity of Christ and miracles
like those in the Christmas story as distractions
from “pure” Christianity.
He was
however, influenced by the stirrings of
nostalgia for old time Christmas
celebrations which seemed to him to be both more egalitarian and warmer in human sympathy. Christmas
had played a key part in his first success, The
Pickwick Papers in which Mr. Wardle relates the tale of Gabriel Grub, a lonely
and mean-spirited sexton, who undergoes a Christmas conversion after being visited by goblins who show him the past and
future—obviously a seed for his new
story.
Without the trappings of religious conversion on
which to hang its tale of personal and
social redemption, Dickens fell back
on elements of spiritualism, which was widely
popular, especially in the middle classes at the time and even imbued with some pseudo scientific justification. Not that Dickens personally believed in communication
with the dead, but in the spirit
of old time fairy tales, the kind
with pointed morals, he was quite willing to employ them as literary devises. Thus was born a Christmas ghost story, as frightening
in some parts as any fashionable
gothic novel. But the terror
came less from the spirits—despite Jacob
Marley’s groans and chains and the fearsome, black, and silent Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come—the
familiar specter of Death as depicted since the time of the
great Plague—than from the poverty
of the Cratchits and their bleak
prospects, the alienation of family
and love, and the hardening of a miserly heart.
Redemption is
accomplished when Scrooge is re-united with his own humanity.
With, you should pardon the expression, great expectations, Dickens arranged to
have an edition printed at his own
expense taking as payment from
the publisher, Chapman & Hall a percentage of sales rather than the customary lump sum. He commissioned original engravings for a fine
edition, including some tinted
with color, to be bound in leather and gilt edged. He quarreled
with the publisher and the book had to be re-made
with new end-papers and cover to meet Dickens’s exacting specifications, delaying
publication to within days of the holiday.
All of this cut deeply into
the profits the author hoped to earn
to support his young wife.
But the book was finally published on
December 19, 1843 and was an immediate popular
and critical success. The first
edition sold out almost immediately and seven more were printed the same
year. Pirates soon had cheap paper
editions out, which the ever
vigilant Dickens fought with law suit after law suit. He authorized
a stage version which premiered in February 1844. Six other unauthorized productions were soon playing simultaneously in London.
America, except for a handful of fans, was at first cool to the book, largely
because the young nation felt insulted by Dickens’s account of his first tour there a year before.
Christmas, especially in New
England, was still suspect in
much of the country. But over the next
decades that would change. One after
another Christmas traditions were introduced and spread. By the time Dickens returned for a post Civil War tour, both he and the book
were beloved.
Much of Dickens' income came from platform readings of his works and A Christmas Carol was his favorite. He staged his las reading in London in 1870 less than three months before his death at age 58. |
The little book was always Dickens’ personal favorite. He staged his first public reading with it in 1858.
Such readings were a principle
income for him for the next decades.
His last reading, in ill health on March 15.1870 in London,
was a final sharing of A Christmas
Carol. He died in the manor home in Kent which his literary
work had earned him, on June 8, 1870 at the age of only 58.
A Christmas Carol has never gone out of
print. It is perennially popular on
both sides of the Atlantic and was
perhaps the main engine of Christmas
becoming a popular, sentimental, and
family holiday all over the English
speaking world. In addition to countless stage productions
there have been at least 28 film
versions for theatrical or television release, the first in
1901. Alistair Sym in the title role of Scrooge in 1951 is
thought by many to be the definitive
version. Other notable versions
include those with Reginald Owen in
1938, Albert Finney in a 1970
musical, George C. Scott and Patrick Stewart in two notable TV versions, and the horrible Disney disaster with Jim Carey in 2003.
Many consider Alistair Sim in Scrooge, the 1951 British film, to be the definitive performance of the part in the many film and televisions versions. |
There have been multiple musical versions, three operas, notable radio broadcasts—especially one with Lionel Barrymore—and several animated
versions. In addition there have
been parodies, and just about every TV sitcom that lasts a few seasons
eventually does an episode in which
a principle character is visited by Christmas ghosts.
Yes, A
Christmas Carol, that odd seasonal
tale devoid of both traditional
religion on one hand and Santa
Claus, magical animals, or elves
on the other, maintains a grip on our imagination after all these
years. Maybe because it speaks to the
real spirit of the holiday better than any other tale.
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