Stave 1: A Christmas Carol

Dickens has such a way of writing a first sentence--a first paragraph even. "Marley was dead, to begin with" is just another example. It sucks you in immediately. You think "oo death!" and he's got you. I have to confess I've never read A Christmas Carol before this and I think somewhere it says I should be tarred and feathered for this terrible truth. As I sat reading Stave 1, drinking all-too-strong coffee and feeling the winter chill in my bones, I discovered that I'm absolutely crazy about everything Dickens. I have several examples of why I came to this revelation, among them being comments on the style, tone, and especially some of the barely perceptible little devices Dickens uses to make the story more interesting and even believable.

I think many people criticize Dickens for his style. Not in the way you might think of criticism. Most people will say "I think Dickens is an absolute genius but I simply couldn't make it through A Tale of Two Cities what with all the detours and passages describing things." I believe I've heard it put that way precisely. However, that is exactly why I'm so wild about Dickens. Following is merely one line from his description of Scrooge that I found particularly vivid and effective:

Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire.

Not only is it extraordinarily poetic for prose, the sentiment is wildly meaningful. Dickens takes the coldest, most gritty and unamicable stone you can think of and describes it as a more generous entity than his protagonist. This one phrase alone lets you know exactly what kind of man Scrooge is. But D doesn't stop there. He puts Scrooge outside of time, outside of this world, in a sense, detailing him as though he stands apart from this reality, giving no emotion to the world and accepting none in turn. He carries his cold with him. As D says:

External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn’t know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often “came down” handsomely, and Scrooge never did.

He is touched by nothing, even nature itself has no power to move him. And again, comparing Scrooge to rain, snow, hail and sleet, Dickens lets us know that even these are more generous.

Something else I noticed while reading Stave 1 was the way that Christmas is portrayed. In as much as Dickens portrays Scrooge as being outside of this reality in a harsh, ungiving manner, he portrays Christmas as being outside of and unaffected by anything worldly in the most poignant, joyful manner. Comments made throughout the stave indicate that Christmas makes time stop, and instead of being affected by people, people take on the essence of Christmas. We see this most vividly in the case of Scrooge's nephew, whose character, it seems, is primarily meant to be the most sharp, meaningful contrast to Scrooge as hot is to cold and black is to white. As the nephew says of Christmas:

(It is) the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!

This childlike love and joy for Christmas recurs frequently. It's all part of illustrating exactly how strange Scrooge is to be untouched by the season. Dickens describes how everyone, from the poorest of the poor to the Lord Mayor himself, celebrate the holy day. The Mayor encourages everyone to celebrate: "Even the little tailor, whom he had fined for being drunk and bloodthirsty in the streets, stirred up tomorrow's pudding in his garret." The image presented is humorous. The adjective "little" is amusingly contrasted to "drunk and bloodthirsty" causing us to think more of a misbehaving child than a "criminal." But we might conclude that Christmas has that effect on people. In the case of Bob Cratchett, who has, in Stave 1, remained unnamed, we see this as well. Dickens initially presents him as a shivering, miserable employee, then, the moment that Cratchett is set free for the holiday, he becomes a new man:

The office was closed in a twinkling, and the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist (for he boasted no great-coat), went down a slide on Cornhill, at the end of a lane of boys, twenty-times in honor of its being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt, to play at blindman's bluff.

Is this the unhappy clerk, or a child he is describing? Both, which is why it's so moving.

An interesting note: after the nephew's exuberant speech about Christmas, Bob Cratchett (The clerk) applauds out of sheer engrossment. Remembering Scrooge, and "becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark for ever." I think this sentence has a bit more meaning, and I think Dickens intended it to. Does the word "fire" actually mean the fire in the grate, and did Bob Cratchett put it out, or did someone else?
Talk amongst yeh-selves.

Finally, Dickens sets the table for the coming of the three ghosts. Leading up to Marley's appearance, Dickens has made a connection between Scrooge and Marley. They were partners, and over the years seemed to have merged as one. People call Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answers to both. I think this make the fact that Marley is dead quite significant beyond the ghostly apparition factor. It also makes the point that Scrooge is half dead. The dead Marley, to me, appears significant as the dead inside of Scrooge, the chill that moves with him. The appearance of Marley seems to make Scrooge partially aware of this, though it is only the beginning. Marley's dialogue also makes it clear to us that Scrooge isn't even an unbeliever. Were he merely a materialist, or an atheist, or agnostic, he would simply not believe in what he cannot see, touch, taste, and hear. However, when Marley appears, Scrooge argues with the apparition as to whether he is a reality or not. Marley asks him, "Why do you doubt your senses," essentially, "Why do you not believe what you are seeing, hearing, and feeling?" But Scrooge chalks the ghost up to being indigestion. He literally betrays his own senses, and is left with absolutely nothing to believe in. He is as empty as a dry cask. But Marley further illustrates the death within Scrooge: "I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day." Marley is present at all times with Scrooge, as who he is, as a reminder of what he will become, and as a warning to change or suffer the fate of many. When Marley leaves, we get a glimpse of the purgatorial afterlife. Hundreds of ghosts chasing about the world, longing to help those they did not regard in life, yearning for rest and peace but denied it:

The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power forever.

There is no rest for the weary.

A note to any readers: If you disagree or have an interesting comment, shout it out! I love a good conversation.