Date: 16 December 2012
Location: Reynolds & Linda
It seemed that one of old Dickens’s spirits, a Spirit of Times Past and of the Time Present, came among us tonight. He was a universal spirit, not of church (that would be Church of England) nor chapel (that would be Methodist or some other dissenting persuasion), not even of Christianity in particular, since the Christmas Carol makes almost no mention of religion, but a spirit of simple and hearty warmth and good will. That was the spirit that quietly inspired us to enjoy our little society with the exchanges of insights about the book and, after one of the better dinners on record, the easy conversation about friends and families and memories of good times gone by.
First of all, everyone seemed to like the book, especially its Dickensian flavor. The style charmed us. To exemplify this Bob read the first paragraph, which meanders self-indulgently off the point until it comes to the threat that, if we neglect the good old ways, “the country’s done for.” That, after all, is the moral of the story: That we must keep a great tradition (Christmas) in the good old way.
We agreed that Dickens is sentimental, that there never was a conversion like Scrooge’s. But Gina pointed out that the boy Ebenezer had a good heart, that he knew suffering (as when he was alone at the end of a school session), and that he could therefore come to realize that others suffered and needed some gift of cheer.
Scrooge’s conversion may be too easy, but this piece of sentimentality is not spineless. Communal bonding, altruism, and hope have evolved in the human race because of their power for survival and success. Scrooge’s “Bah! Humbug!” days are desolate, decaying. The Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come shows us what this quality of life leads to. This Spirit is gray, silent, and sinister. He shows us Tiny Tim dead and leads Scrooge to his own tomb. On the other hand, when Scrooge wakes on Christmas Day, though the world is cold as ever, life nevertheless blossoms with food, with money, and most healthful of all, with good cheer. There is no more talk of decay and death; even Tiny Tim is saved. The Christmas truth lies deep in human nature: meanness of spirit is moribund, cheerful community is vitalizing.
The Cratchits live on miserably poor terms, and yet they have a goose and pudding for Christmas dinner (in the vision of Christmas Present). Does this dinner indicate that their life is not so hard after all? Not so: The goose must be meager, since they leave nothing but its bones. And as for the pudding, it is small, and yet everyone is anxious lest it turn out badly so that they will have that much less to eat.
The third vision takes too long getting to the tomb, and we know that the dead man so much talked about will turn out to be Scrooge. Isn’t this a flaw? Again, not so: Joyce pointed out that this narrative would have a different effect on us if we did not already know the story, if we were coming to it for the first time. And besides, the identity of the dead man is not so important as the exposition of the values he has lived by.
What is wrong with Tiny Tim? Polio? Malnutrition? Being carried in the womb of an aging mother? We will never know, and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the harsh life of poverty breaks him down and that he “does NOT die” when he has kindly Scrooge as a second father.
After discussing and feasting, we settled into conversing that left us all relaxed and pleased with ourselves and with each other. May the Spirit of Time to Come watch over our future, keep us bonded in all affection, and bless us every one.
— John