A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

Radio Record, Volume V, Issue 23, 18 December 1931, Page 1

A CHRISTMAS CAROL.

by

Charles

Dickens

N a book entitled "The Greatest Book in the World." by A. Edward Newton, one

of America’s noted litterateurs and book collectors, appears a Shor a6 4 a a i ate exe

homily on Dickens s "Christmas Varo, ve acclaims ag "the greatest little book in the world." He records how, while four ardent Dickeusians, hin: self one of them, were gathered together one evening 1# the library of a friend, the question-"Which is the best \of Dickens’s novels?’-arose. A violent discussion ensued. . The author then continues: Above a voice urging "Bleak House" someone was heard to say that "A Christmas Carol" was the greatest little book in the world. "And if," said the speaker, "you think that a ‘rather large order,’ name a greater !" There was a silence for a moment, and then a chorus of praise. It was the writer who made the all-embracing statement. He has the advantage of knowing only onehis mother-tongue; he was talking of books of to-day. not of great little books of ages past; and he was talking with companions who were much too Dickensian ta challenge any statement in praise of the master. T et there be no misunderstanding. I know all tha*

can be said in dispraise of Dickens; that his characters are not real people, but the personifications of virtue and vice and the whole range in between; that he wallows in sentimentality ; that all is exaggeration ; that eccentric characters pepper hig pages; that his women are all "impossible," and that his heroes wr side-whiskers; that he himself had long curly hair, perfumed. and greasy with macassar oil.. I admit all this, and yet am disposed say that in ‘the resplendent firmament of English literature there is only one name I would rank above his for sheer genius: Shakespeare. And I make this statement with the less hesitation for the reason that it passed unchallenged-was applauded almost-when I made first several years ago, in London. But that is another story. Now. I just want to say a few considered words about "Christmas Carol." ICKENS ‘had made his first trip to . America and was engaged upon \the study of "Martin Chuzzlewit," when it occurred to him to write short story which was to make the world better and happier at Shristmas time. The result was the "Littie Carol," as he affectionately called it. Its composition affected him in the most extraordinary manner; he roamed about London, as was his habit, thinking and talking to himself about it-and no one knew and loved London better than he; and none could describe it better, especially the streets on a winter's day, when the poor sufferer, for, while Dickens was a boisterous person,

overflowing with animal spirits, the poor were always on his mind. Bear with me while I sing of the London streets in winter. iy there, can there be anything colder? The thermometer is not to be depended upon, for with true British pluck the mercury keeps ‘ugh appearances and declines to record the all-pervading dampness whiclt freezes one to the marrowbones. I know; for I have played hide-ande seek in a fog with well-known landmarks for my playmates-to keeg myself from freezing-and I am not especially fitted for the gameg solitaire I could play better but for the exertion it entails. mone UT no-one has written of a winter’¢ day as Dickens: Listen for a moment¢? "Tt was cold, bleak, biting weather; foggy withal. . . . The. city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already it had not been light all day; and candles were flaring in the of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and wae so dense without, that although the court was of the. narrowest, houses opposite were phantoms. . . . It was piercing, searchin: biting cold." . . Such was the weather in London on that day before Christmaél many yeats ago when Dickens elected to sing a carol which all thé world has heard and which all English-speaking people join in singin Dickens was a man of simple emotions; what did not move him to laughter moved him to tears; some things moved him to»both at once. Of nature, in the ordinary acceptance of that word, he*knex nothing, cared nothing. London was to him a vast field in: which wild flowers grew-the children of the poor-and he gathered then by armfuls. He was a man without what we call tast Jae 4 q4%*,:797. * 22... .2.3 2%... 282k

religion or politics, but he had an intense love f humanity. He did not write for the stage, but I wrote dramatically; in tragedy he was apt to.be.maudlin: in humour.he was with the gods. The "Carol’’ is Dickens! in essence, for in it his love for humanity. and his love's fun are all-embracing. | May I hum the first stanza of the "Carol"? ; "Marley was dead: to begin with , as deat as adoor-nail. Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmonegry; in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is i the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb of the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit. m to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as doornail." . But I take it for granted that you can sing the "Carol" as well as 1 can, and go on with my story. — OF Pr ee en, a) Pane ae and, lke oOnakespeare, Ne TOOK TITLE Ter eot © ill

It- was published a Tew dayS DVETOR~ Te mas, 1843; six thousand copies were sold on the first day, 15,000 more before there was the (Concluded on. page 2.9

Christmas Carol (Continued from page 1;)

east sign of the démand slackening. | ickens was in high spirits and wrote — fo a friend: "The ‘Carol’ is the greatest | duccess, I am told, that this ruffian and — rascal has ever achieved." It is just 80 years since the "Carol". was given to the world, and it still vemains a "best-seller." It has been translated into almost every language under Heaven, though I am at a loss i understand its popularity in ChinIn London, when it first appeared, people stopped one another in the street with the question: "Have you read it?’ And the answer was: "Yes, Gold bless him, I have." No one spoke more highly of it than ‘Whackeray, except Tom Hood, who maintained that Dickens was inspired when he wrote it. Not long ago, at # sale of autographs, a letter of Stev‘pnson turned up, which read someg like this:"tJ don’t know that I would recommend you to read the ‘Carol,’ because it is too much, perhaps. But oh! dear God, it is good-and I feel so #ood after it, and would do anything, yes, and shall do everything, to make the world a little better.... I shall never listen to the nonsense people tell me about not giving money-I shall give money; not that I ‘haven’t done so always, but I shall give now with @ high band." . That'is the greatness of the "Carol": ft makes everyone want "to make the ‘svorld a little better’"-that’s the idea: and when everyone wants to do a thing, they usually do it. '" Dickens gave Christmas a new meauIng: from being merely a festival of the Church, kept to some extent by Ghurch people, he made it a universal holiday and he did this without in any way derogating from its sacred character. What an achievement! We hear rather too much to-day that art has nothing to do. with morals. and it is admitted than an obvious moral may spoil an artistic effect, but mot in the "Carol." We who know it by ‘heart hurry to get to the moral we know so well. When the Phantom shrinks, collapses. and dwindles into a bed-post, and Scrooge awakes and "laughs a splendid laugh," we laugh with him. He rushes to a window. throws it open, and calls to a boy outside :-- "What's to-day, my fine fellow?" "To-day!" replied the boy. "Why. Christmas Day." "Tis Christmas Day!" said Scrooge to himself. "I haven’t missed it." How happy he is! How happy we are, too! It is not too late to make amends! Dickens puts the moral plainly when he makes the ghost of Marley say in reply to Scrooge’s: "You were always a good man of business, Jacob" :- "Business! Mankind was my busihess. The common welfare was my business ; charity, mercy, forbearance and ‘benevolence, were, all, my busiymess. The dealings of my trade were fut a drop of water in the comprehensive. ocean of my business!" It is such passages-and they abound in this, the loveliest of fairy tales--Which justify the judgment which the ‘world has passed on this great little book. It 1s said that twenty-four editions Qyere published in its original fox'm.

expired, scarcely a year goes by without a new edition being announced. There are superbly illustrated, printed, and bound books made for the rich, and cheap editions made to sell for a penny to the poor, and both classes buy: its sale has run into the millions. The "Carol" is a tribute to the race and a glory to the man who wrote it. Its author turns more or less empty phrases into realities. "Good-will toward men,’ for example, he took out of the clouds, brought it down to earth, and set it to work. What an achievement! When we say "Merry Christmas," we are uneonsciously quoting Charles Dickens, who attached to Christmas its modern habit of giving and forgiving. Had he written only the "Carol" on the basis of good accomplished, he woul haye deserved his place in the Abbey Church of Westminster, where [Enzland lays her immortal sons. ae nt x And now for an outline of the plot of this "great little’ book. It is Christmas Eve in the offices of Serooge and Marley, Marley, however, is dead-‘dead as a doornail"-and his one-time partner is carrying on the business by himself. "Serooge! A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from whicit no steel had ever struck.out generous fire; secret and self-contained, an solitary as an oyster." Through the door of Scrooge’s office, which was always kept open so that he might keep an eye on his clerk, could be seen Bob ‘Cratchitt, copying letters and vainly trying to keep himself warm. Scrooge’s nephew enters, offering his uncle a cheery "Merry Christmas," but is met with a "Bah! Humbug!" Undeterred, the nephew asks Scrooge to dinner, but the invitation is curtly refused. As he leaves, two old gentlemen en-ter-‘"‘they were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood, with their hats off, in Scrooge’s office. They

had books and papers in their hands, and bowed to him." They appeal for * donation for the poor, but, ‘Are there no prisons?’ asked Scrooge. ‘Plenty of prisons,’ said the gentleman, laying down the pen again. ‘And the union workhouses" demanded Scrooge, ‘are they still in operation? ‘They are. Still," returned the gentleman, ‘I wish L could say they were not.’ ‘The trea/mill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?" said Scrooge. ‘Both very busy, sir’ ‘Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course." said Serooge, ‘I’m very glad to hear it"... Good afternoon, gentlemen.’ " HE fog and darkness thicken, and Scrooge ill-temperedly dismisses his clerk for the night. After dinner, and a gloating examination of his banking book, the old miser gropes his way home to a lonely room, and after his nightly gruel takes himself off to bed. It is midnight, and Christmas Day is at hand. The ghost of Marley appears, and tells the half-terrified, halfdefiant, Scrooge that on three succeeding nights he will be haunted by three spirits, those of Christmas past, pres- ent, and future. At the appointed time the first arvives, and takes Scrooge to re-visit the seenes of his childhood. Scrooge hears the voices of his sister and of the woman he once loved. She tells him that his love for gold has destroyed all human feeling within him. leaving him heartless and calculating. The unhappy man, tortured with these realistic glimpses of the long-forgotten past, appeals to the Spirit to show him no more. The Ghost is relentless, however, and takes Scrooge to peep into a home-that of the girl he had once loved; who had since married and was engaged in bringing up a family. Serooge is greatly affected by the happy domestic scene. and begs the Now, the copyright having long since

Ghost to take him away. "I told you these were shadows of the things that have been," said the Ghost. © "That they are what they are, do not blame me!" "Remove me," Scrooge exclaimed. "TY eannot’ bear it!" bd * ca The following night the Spirit of Christmas present appears, and once more Scrooge is taken on a journey, this time to the house of Bob Cratchitt, who he finds enjoying Christmas with his family in their own humble way. He then sees the vision of his nephew and niece, who discuss him-not very favourably, it must be said-and finally drink his health. * * * It is the following night, and thg clock is striking twelvé. "As the last stroke ceased to vibrate he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes he beheld a solemn phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground toward him." It was the last of the spirits, the ghost of ‘Christmas yet to come. "Although well used to ghostly company by this time, Scrooge feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him, and he found that he could hardiy stand when he prepared to follow it... ." He recovers, and with his ghostly companion proceeds to the business portion of the city. There he overhears some of his business associates laughing and joking about the death of someone they all knew, and with a thrill of horror Scrooge at last realises / that it is he they are talking about. The Phantom then takes him to where his body is lying, and Scrooge is horrorstricken at the callous way it is being treated. In a thieves’ den he watches the apportioning of al] his personal belongings, including even the shirt that had been used as a shroud, but which had been stolen. The miserable man, almost demented, demands of the Phantom: "Let me see some tenderness connected with death, or that dark chamber, Spirit, which we left just now will be for ever present to me." The ghost conducts him along several streets, and they entered Bob Cratchitt’s home. They found the mother and children seated round the fire, quietly mourning the death of Tiny Tim, their little cripple boy. The last straw comes‘ when the Phantom ta him to a graveyard. where Scroggie locates and reads his own epitaph. In his agony he swears he will forsake his old mean ways and devote the rest of his life to doing good in the world. "olding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost." Of Scrooge’s subsequent reformation little need be said, except that it was complete, and by it he fully atoned for his previous way of life. "Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim f who did not die, he was a second father It was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and ail of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, "God bless us, every one!"

{08 SOCO8 Special Broadcasts for Christmas Eve

2 . From 1\YA: Broadcasting Choir in 20K Christmas Carols From 2YA: Midnight Mass from St. Gerard’s Church. OC From 3YA: Relay St. Gerard’s from 2YA. From 4YA: Appropriate. Recordings. Cm CO COCO ere Oc 20K SO 50 >O¢ »O >0CD