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"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Jack Frost nipping at your nose
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir
And folks dressed up like Eskimos..."
"The Christmas Song" (1945) by Robert Wells and Mel Torme
This seasonal classic, which graces the lips and sound systems countless times between Thanksgiving and the New Year, is something of a nostalgia checklist. It would be a chestnut itself, an old saying devoid of meaning, if not for the sincerity of expression by artists like Nat King Cole and a deep-seated cultural belief in its validity.
CHRISTMAS BELLS ARE RINGING
The truth is, the best traditions are those that resonate. Most Americans don't get warm beside a fire these days, but the inevitable cold of the approaching winter solstice makes any source of warmth comforting and desirable. Those on the upper end of the "one to ninety-two" scale know that Santa's not real, but everyone enjoys the expectation of gifts and sweets. In an era where the anti-social "goblin mode" is Word of the Year, it's more than understandable to give in to yearnings for simpler times and old traditions. And one of those most beloved traditions is A Christmas Carol.
Yes, the little novella (1843) by Charles Dickens is undoubtedly a Christmas classic, with numerous adaptations in print, radio, and film. Hardly a December goes by without seeing a fresh twist on the story, and there's a reason for that. In the words of Laurie Langbauer, a professor of English and comparative literature at UNC-Chapel Hill, Dickens uses "that almost crystalline structure of the fairy tale that makes it easy to grasp but infinitely malleable and important for what it captures about psychology as well as culture."
Ray Dooley, a retired UNC-Chapel Hill professor and frequent performer of A Christmas Carol, emphasizes the simple story structure and clearly defined characters. "You can paint the house any color you want, but the house is always going to be there. You can do most anything with it, and the foundation will support you, and result in some delightful alternatives.” In other words, Dickens' mastery of craft makes the story resonate, even through multiple retellings. This explains the appeal of the story in multiple mediums, from the classic radio play read by Orson Welles and Lionel Barrymore in the previous Crisis Era to the exuberant musical Spirited* starring Ryan Reynolds and Will Ferrell in 2022.
Moreover, Charles Dickens' deep understanding of the human condition allowed him to create empathy in his audience. In Langbauer's words, Dickens "caught what were not just particular economic and societal questions during the ‘hungry ’40s’ that persisted during the Victorian era and even now as the Industrial Revolution passes into the Information Age." Because history is seasonal, problems of crime, poverty, disease, and ignorance never truly go away. But stories are vehicles for learning, and should offer cause for hope. Therefore, Dickens gives us a solution in the form of his protagonist, Ebenezer Scrooge.
YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MR. GRINCH
In an insightful article, screenwriter Scott McConnell hypothesizes that Top Gun: Maverick was the most popular film of 2022 because its lead character, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, fully embodies uniquely American traits: individualism, confidence, and benevolence. Individualism is the ability of a single person to enact change by exercising freedom of choice. Confidence is the belief that one can overcome obstacles. Benevolence is the willingness to do good. Together, these traits make the ideal hero. But without benevolence, you have the opposite: a villain, a Grinch, a Scrooge.
Yes, Ebenezer Scrooge has plenty of money and leisure time. But does he donate to the needy? Spend time with family? Pay his workers a living wage? Nope! Instead he works through every holiday and goes home at night to huddle up in goblin mode, too cheap to even light a candle. The day of the narrative's occurrence, he'd already cursed out his nephew over a party invitation, threatened violence on a caroler who triggered him, and told a soliciting charity that poor people were simply "surplus population."
If any of this behavior hits close to home, it's not surprising. The devolution of civility in the Crisis Era has been on full display on social media. In fact, it was not until reading a recent article in The Atlantic that I really remembered in a personal way how social media was originally conceived as a social network. Meta/Facebook was, at first, a digital replication of college "facebook" directories. My dorm in the early 2000s had one of these, and it was a sort of yearbook/phonebook that you could use to learn other students' names and get in touch for projects. The point was connection: facebooks were not tools for stalking, harassing, or marketing.
And yet, as I wrote in "Frayed: Tribalism, Twitter, and the End of Tolerance," our inner goblin (or troll) has taken over. Features such as the news feed, "like" button, and retweeting had unforeseen consequences. The transition for networking to media has made these platforms a mob of megaphones, and it's hard to have a conversation when everyone is shouting. It's even harder to connect to a community when the high-stakes sense of survival short-circuits benevolence.
WE NEED A LITTLE CHRISTMAS
But if we're all Scrooges now, what's the solution? How can we shift our own paradigms when we don't feel safe? How can we end our addiction to anger, when it's all we know? We need new soundtracks, new beliefs, and transformation. These are problems of imagination, and thankfully, stories are the key to unlocking imagination. Master storyteller that he was, Dickens provided the perfect impetus for change to Scrooge in the form of three Christmas ghosts: Past, Present, and Future.
You see, Ebenezer Scrooge's problem is that he believes a lie. He believes he is a victim of the past: a dead mother, a distant father, a tough economy, an impatient fiancee. He has no awareness of the impact his choices make in the present, believing that his actions have little impact beyond himself. As for the future, he does not think of it at all; having never believed in the power of legacy, he underestimates the pain of dying alone and unwanted.
But the ghosts are arbiters of truth, and, as is described by therapist Jonathan Decker in Cinema Therapy, they hold up the mirror of reality to Scrooge, saying that his misery is something he created by his own choices. Naturally, Scrooge resists this narrative. Victimhood is easy. Autonomy is hard. It's also an essential part of the hero's journey. In Decker's words, the ghostly journeys act as a form of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, offering the hope that "if you did it, you can undo it." Only by fully embracing the truth of the past, present, and future, does Scrooge finally find capacity for change. Confronted at last with his own mortality, he becomes an empowered individual with the confidence that his benevolence is worthwhile and necessary.
LAST CHRISTMAS
Why does it take death to make us realize the importance of a life well-lived?
I believe there are three reasons.
First, it reduces the fear of the unknown. For humans, especially in Western cultures, death is seen as frightening and something to avoid discussing or thinking about it. Researcher and lecturer Nathan Heflick says “While avoiding talking about death can reduce a little discomfort in the short term, it probably makes most of us much more anxious to die in the long term.” But when a near-death experience forces an individual to recognize that which he has ignored, some of the that fear is taken away. It's the same idea behind exposure therapy; once someone with arachnophobia handles a spider safely, he may not like spiders, but the paralyzing force of that fear is weakened.
Second, it restores temporal metacognition. As humans, we have the unique capacity among living creatures to hold the past, present, and future simultaneously in our consciousness. However, it is very difficult to hold these in balance. With too much focus on the past, we become absorbed in reliving it at the expense of enjoying the present. With too much focus on the present, our FOMO keeps us from making long-term decisions that would benefit our future. With too much focus on the future, our decisions are made in fear, without remembering the good of the past or the immediate needs of the present. A person with temporal metacognition can regulate the balance of these perspectives in a healthy way, realizing past habits that need correcting, present needs that need addressing, and future possibilities that are worth planning for. According to Psychology Today, such individuals are "more friendly, conscientious, less neurotic, and more open to new experiences."
Third, it helps a person see time as something to be redeemed. As with money, many people have a confused understanding of time. When we don't acknowledge that our minutes on this earth are finite, we don't invest them well. But if we know that death can occur at any time, and accept that our hours are a gift to be shared, not hoarded, we can spend them in a way that positively affects ourselves and others. Psychologist and NDE (near-death experience) researcher Dr. Steve Taylor says those who have had a NDE "feel a sense of connection or even oneness towards things, and to the world in general" and become "aware of the preciousness and fragility of life." In the end of A Christmas Carol, Scrooge realized that his own death also meant the end of his opportunities to help Tiny Tim. This meant he was eager and willing to spend his second chance at life helping ease the suffering of others because he now felt connected to them.
O TANNENBAUM
Thankfully, we don't have to have a NDE of our own to appreciate the message of A Christmas Carol. Neuroscientist Dr. Paul J. Zak has discovered that a well-told story actually stimulates the production of oxytocin in the brain, which enhances our sense of empathy or ability to experience others’ emotions. Just by living that ghostly Christmas with Ebenezer Scrooge via print, audio, or screen, we can have the same benefits in our own lives. We too, can become more individualistic, confident, and benevolent with each telling. No wonder that we hold Dickens' tale so dear: it's not an old chestnut, it's evergreen, and it's gold.
There's another redemption tale we can't forget in this season. It's the story of a Baby who was born to die; One who lived, lives, and will live in eternity; One who brings the gifts of love, life, and forgiveness to all who will accept them. Jesus Christ is the true reason for the season. He endures all seasons, and His love extends to all generations. Is this your moment of reckoning? Is this your Christmas Eve? If it is, don't ignore your chance to embrace God's grace and healing. Though change can be painful, and winter is harsh, I promise there are better things on the other side, in time. Today, you choose your own future. Choose wisely, for your actions will ripple out to the present and past of those to come.
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If you've been reading this blog for a while and/or following me on social media, you know that this blog has a soundtrack on YouTube. Now, I've added that playlist on Spotify, as well as my Christmas gift to you: a fun, personally curated soundtrack for your holiday season. Happy listening, and Merry Christmas!
Rebecca's Mix Tape (blog soundtrack)
Rebecca's Merry Marshmallow Christmas (holiday playlist)
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*Spirited on Apple+ is rated PG-13 for language, some suggestive material and thematic elements. A useful review of objectionable elements can be found on Hollywood in Toto.
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