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Charles Dickens

Christmas stories

CHRISTMAS HYMN IN PROSE

(=A CHRISTMAS CAROL IN PROSE)

A Yuletide Ghost Story

Stanza One

To begin with, Marley was dead. There was no doubt about it. The certificate of his burial was signed by the priest, the clergyman, and the owner funeral home and senior gravedigger. It was signed by Scrooge. And if Scrooge put his hand to any document, this paper had weight on the stock exchange.

So old Marley was dead as a nail in the lintel.

Please note: I do not at all claim that I am convinced from my own experience that a nail driven into a lintel is somehow especially dead, more dead than all other nails. No, I personally would rather prefer a nail driven into the coffin lid as the most dead object from all hardware products. But this saying reflects the wisdom of our ancestors, and if my wicked tongue dared to change it, you would have the right to say that our country is sliding into the abyss. Therefore, may I be allowed to repeat again and again: Marley was dead as a nail in the lintel.

Did Scrooge know about this? Of course. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and Marley have been companions since time immemorial. Scrooge was Marley's only confidant, his only authority in all matters, his only executor, his only legal heir, his only friend, and the only person who accompanied him to the graveyard. And yet Scrooge was not so depressed by this sad event that his business acumen could fail him, and he celebrated the day of his friend’s funeral by concluding a very profitable deal.

Now I mentioned Marley's funeral, and that brings me back to where I started. There could not be the slightest doubt that Marley was dead. This must be clearly understood, otherwise there will be nothing extraordinary in the story that I intend to tell you. After all, if we did not know for certain that Hamlet’s father died long before the start of the performance, then his walk on a windy night along the ramparts around his castle would hardly seem to us something supernatural. In any case, no more supernatural than the behavior of any elderly gentleman who had the whim of taking a walk at midnight in some place not protected from the wind, well, say, in the cemetery of St. Pavel, pursuing the only goal - to amaze the already frustrated imagination of his son.

Scrooge did not blot out Marley's name on the sign. It was there, above the office door, years later: SCROOGE and MARLEY. The firm was well known by this name. And some newbie in business, addressing Scrooge, sometimes called him Scrooge, and sometimes Marley. Scrooge responded no matter how he was called. He didn't care.

What a badass he was, that Scrooge! This is someone who knew how to squeeze out juices, pull out veins, hammer into a coffin, rake, seize, grab, extort... The old sinner knew how, he knew how! It was not a man, but a flint. Yes, he was cold and hard, like flint, and no one had ever managed to carve even a spark of compassion from his stone heart. Secretive, withdrawn, lonely - he hid like an oyster in his shell. Mental cold froze the senile features of his face from the inside, sharpened his hooked nose, wrinkled the skin on his cheeks, constrained his gait, made his lips turn blue and his eyes red, and made his creaky voice icy. And even his stubbly chin, rare hair and his eyebrows seemed frosty from the frost. He brought this chilling atmosphere with him everywhere. Scrooge's presence froze his office in the summer heat, and he did not allow it to thaw even half a degree even on merry Christmastide.

Heat or cold in the yard - Scrooge was little concerned about this. No heat could warm him, and no frost could penetrate him. The fiercest wind could not be more evil than Scrooge, the fiercest blizzard could not be as cruel as him, the heaviest rain could not be so merciless. The bad weather could do nothing to get through it. Rain, hail, and snow could boast only one advantage over Scrooge - they often descended on the earth in generous abundance, and Scrooge was unknown to generosity.

No one ever stopped him on the street with a joyful exclamation: “Dear Scrooge! How are you? When will you come to see me?” Not a single beggar dared to reach out to him for alms, not a single child dared to ask him what time it was, and not a single soul ever asked him to show him the way. It seemed that even the dogs, guides to the blind, understood what kind of person he was, and, seeing him, they hurried to drag their owner into the first entrance or gateway they came across, and then wagged their tail for a long time, as if saying: “Yes, for me, a man without eyes, like you, master, much better than with the evil eye.”

Do you think this upset Scrooge? Not at all. He did his life path, avoiding everyone, and those who knew him well believed that it was even somehow sweet to scare away the slightest manifestation of sympathy for him.

And then one day - and not just sometime, but on Christmas Eve itself - old Scrooge was poring over account books in his office. It was cold, dreary weather, and still foggy, and Scrooge could hear passers-by outside the window scurrying back and forth, stamping loudly along the sidewalk, puffing and beating their sides to keep warm. The city clock in the bell tower had just struck three, but it was already getting dark, and that day and in the morning everything, and the lights of the candles that glowed in the windows of the offices lay like crimson strokes on the dark curtain of fog - so dense that it seemed you could touch it hand. The fog crawled into every crack, seeped into every keyhole, and even in this cramped courtyard the houses opposite, barely visible behind a thick dirty gray veil, looked like ghosts. Looking at the clouds of fog that descended lower and lower, hiding all objects from view, one might think that Nature herself had opened a brewery somewhere in the neighborhood and was brewing beer for the holiday.

Scrooge kept the office door ajar so that he could keep an eye on his clerk, who was copying papers in a dark little closet, or rather a closet. If Scrooge had not enough coal in the fireplace, then the clerk had even less - it seemed that there was only one coal smoldering there. But the clerk could not add coal, since Scrooge kept a box of coal in his room, and as soon as the clerk appeared there with a fireplace scoop, the owner began to express fear that he would have to part with his assistant. Therefore, the clerk wrapped a white woolen scarf tightly around his neck and tried to warm himself by a candle, however, not having a particularly ardent imagination, and here he failed.

Charles Dickens is my favorite writer. Therefore, the assessment of this book will certainly be positive. I’ll start with this publication, which, unfortunately, I don’t have on my shelf. But let's hope that someday it will appear in the Labyrinth warehouses. I borrowed the book from friends, but the time the publication was in my house was enough to study the book inside and out. In my opinion, this is the best edition of "Christmas Stories". The wonderful dust jacket hides an equally wonderful book cover, despite the fact that it is not made in color, I like it even more. The print quality is perfect (let me make such a loud statement). The eyes do not get tired of reading at all, and the font size is exactly what is needed in order to completely immerse yourself in the book, without taking your eyes off the lines when the text begins to simply merge. The illustrations, of which there are few, fully correspond to the reader’s imagination, that is, after reading a certain moment and seeing an illustration for it, you understand that it was impossible to imagine otherwise. In general, finishing this section, I can say with confidence that the book is pleasant to hold in your hands, which, in my opinion, is an important point.
As for the content, retelling Dickens is a most useless exercise. His language is a kind of wind that transports the reader to the already distant 19th century, and a retelling can disrupt this unique moment, and besides, in my opinion, imposing one’s own understanding of a separate story is not right. Speaking in general about the book, we can say with confidence that reading it is absolutely necessary before the New Year or Christmas. This is a time of miracles, fun, an unsurpassed atmosphere that transports anyone to great world children's fairy tales and wishes. However, it is naive to believe that " Christmas stories"are a children's book. Of course, this is not so. This is a book for all generations. Everyone will find something of their own. Perhaps someone will recognize themselves in one of the stories, someone will want to take the place of the main character, someone will watch behind everything from the outside. But I think no one will remain indifferent. Once in England XIX century, in a period of complex social problems, unstable world relations, one cannot help but want not to see anything that is very reminiscent of the current situation. Dickens provides this. In his stories England still remains in early Middle Ages With narrow streets, beautiful houses, Christmas markets with their indescribable atmosphere of comfort and fun, and most importantly - the indescribable smells of Christmas treats, which penetrates into the cold 21st century. You hear it, you feel it, but you try not to lose it. And all this in the context of friendly family, human relationships, where even the poorest are ready to sacrifice their last in order to forget about their problems at least for a moment and celebrate Christmas in a cozy small, albeit dilapidated house.... However, such a description can be confusing the reader is confused and it may seem that the book is too simple and does not carry an emotional load. However, this is absolutely not true. The richness of this book lies in the fact that after almost two centuries, you understand that much is too familiar, stuffed with askomina, etc. Throwing a bridge to modernity allows you to discern the same poignancy social problem, the same problem society-authority.. But you may not notice all this, carried away by carefree reading with a smile on your face and ask yourself main question: Is it worth throwing over this very bridge and looking for some problems? or should you just immerse yourself in the world of fairy tales and again feel like a child who believed in a miracle? Everyone will answer the question themselves, but remembering famous phrase that “having believed in a miracle, we are transported to another world, a world of our own, where we are really us, without embellished masks and unnecessary irony, and it is in this world that there live unfulfilled dreams and hopes that are waiting for the main moment when a person believes in a miracle."

The given topic “Charles Dickens: A Christmas Carol” is so vast and fascinating that you will have to look into all its aspects. But first, it should be noted that under this title in 2009, the most talented director Robert Zemeckis shot an unusually beautiful three-dimensional film disney cartoon. What attracted the director to Charles Dickens? “A Christmas Carol” is, first of all, a magnificent animated fairy tale, based on the work of the great, its original title “A Christmas Carol: yuletide story haunted."

Strange visions

The story was written in 1843, a little later it became one of the most popular stories about Christmas that Charles Dickens ever wrote. The Christmas story that happened to the main character is simply amazing and makes each of us think about our behavior and actions.

However, it should be noted one very amazing thing about the author of this work, who sometimes while working could spontaneously fall into a kind of trance, and at these moments he was subject to various visions, therefore he experienced a frequent state of déjà vu. There was another oddity about the writer, which he mentions Chief Editor Publishing house "Fortnightly Review". It turns out that the writer, before writing anything on paper, first heard the voices of his characters who came to him and talked to him. In any case, Charles Dickens himself told him about this. The Christmas story was probably also whispered into his ear by its main character, old man Scrooge.

It’s impossible not to note the fascinating fairy-tale inclinations English writer, his wisdom and penetration into the soul of every reader, young and old.

"A Christmas Carol": book, Charles Dickens

By the way, he was born in 1812 in Landport (Great Britain). The family had many children, his father was in prison for debts, and Charles himself worked in a factory that produced wax, then he learned shorthand and became a free reporter, and then literature became his main business. In this field, he very quickly reached the zenith of fame and was her favorite. During his lifetime, he became a wealthy man; fate did not skimp on gifts for him.

On June 9, 1870, at the age of 58, he died of a stroke. After his death, his fame eclipsed that of Byron, and his name was placed next to Shakespeare. Dickens has become a real cult for English literature. With all his life troubles and peculiar martyrdom, he gained wide fame throughout the world, and above all, as funny writer good old England. His works almost always had a good ending, since he did not like to stir the hearts of vulnerable readers.

Charles Dickens "A Christmas Carol": summary

The decrepit and gloomy old man Ebenezer Scrooge was very greedy. He had no other interests other than accumulation. And now Christmas is coming soon, but Ebenezer does not feel any joy about this, so he refuses his nephew’s invitation to come visit him and celebrate his favorite holiday with his family. The old man believes that on holidays, first of all, one should strive to get benefits, and not to have fun. He also never gave donations to poor children.

Christmas Eve

On Christmas Eve evening, with a creaky heart, he dismisses his clerk from work, closes the office and leisurely goes home. But suddenly the ghost of Jacob Marley appears before him - his late companion, who died just before Christmas seven years ago. Marley's spirit is exhausted, he complains to Scrooge and says that he is punished for not trying to do good and help people during his life. And now Marley doesn’t want his partner to suffer the same fate. Therefore, he warns that at night, for three days after midnight, three spirits will appear to Scrooge who will help him change his worthless and useless life. After this, the ghost says goodbye and disappears.

Tests

It must be said that Charles Dickens’s cartoon “A Christmas Carol” goes very closely next to the true plot of his book and looks, as they say, in one breath.

So, at midnight, the first Yule Spirit from past childhood years appears to Scrooge. And they set off on a journey to where he was born and raised, where he spent his youth and adolescence, where he was cheerful and happy and could share his good mood with people close to him. Then he sees himself already matured and in love, but greed and greed even then began to manifest themselves in him, and therefore his beloved girl was forced to break up with him and build family happiness with another. Scrooge at these moments softened, was moved and no longer wanted to look into the past. He asks the spirits to stop these unpleasant visions. The spirit disappears and Scrooge falls asleep.

Time travel

On the second night, the second Yuletide Spirit appears to him, who takes him to the present time, and Scrooge sees how the city is preparing for the holiday. And then the Spirit leads him to the house of clerk Bob Cratchit, although he is poor and has many children, but the house is peaceful and everyone is having fun. His whole family was at the table, and Bob raised the first toast to his master Scrooge, but his wife noted that this old man was too nasty and an insensitive miser. At this time, the Spirit warns Scrooge that if he does not correct his behavior in the future, then Bob's son Tim faces death, since the boy is very sick. Then, together with the Spirit, they went to see their nephew, who is the only one in this city who does not hate his evil uncle. Time passed quickly, and Scrooge returned to his bed again.

Death

On the third night, the Spirit came to show the old man the future Christmastide, but he does not see himself either at the stock exchange or in other places and involuntarily begins to hear that people on the street are talking about the death of some obnoxious, grumpy and stingy old man. And suddenly Scrooge saw the dead man, but did not recognize his face, and soon realized that it was him, and there would be no next Christmas for him.

The spirit disappears, and Scrooge finds himself back at home. In the morning he decides to change himself into better side, he began to rejoice like a child and remembered about tomorrow's Christmas. He sends his most prized goose to Bob and his family, donates the money to a charity, and goes to celebrate the holiday with his dear nephew, who was sincerely happy about this event.

The next day of Christmas, Scrooge raises Bob's salary, and for his son, Tim, he becomes a second father and helps him cope with a fatal illness. This is how the evil, grumpy and stingy Ebenezer Scrooge became the kindest and most generous person in the city, whom the whole city respected and loved. He managed to change his destiny and the destiny of the people who surrounded him for the better.

Cartoon

And now, if we talk about the topic “Charles Dickens: “A Christmas Carol”: review, reviews and impressions”, here, most likely, we can talk about a cartoon that certainly deserves special attention, because it is amazing, family-friendly and instructive. Viewers left the best reviews about him.

The director of the film, Robert Zemeckis, is simply a special effects genius, he used innovative technology“digital capture”, this means that special sensors were installed on the actors, which give unique technical capabilities: accurately repeat facial expressions and movements, so the characters look very realistic. The 3D effect and first-class picture are simply amazing. And if you haven’t seen it yet, be sure to check it out, you won’t regret it!

Charles Dickens

Christmas stories

CHRISTMAS HYMN IN PROSE

(=A CHRISTMAS CAROL IN PROSE)

A Yuletide Ghost Story

Stanza One

To begin with, Marley was dead. There was no doubt about it. His burial certificate was signed by the priest, the clerk, the undertaker and the senior gravedigger. It was signed by Scrooge. And if Scrooge put his hand to any document, this paper had weight on the stock exchange.

So old Marley was dead as a nail in the lintel.

Please note: I do not at all claim that I am convinced from my own experience that a nail driven into a lintel is somehow especially dead, more dead than all other nails. No, I personally would rather prefer a nail driven into a coffin lid as the most dead object of all hardware. But this saying reflects the wisdom of our ancestors, and if my wicked tongue dared to change it, you would have the right to say that our country is sliding into the abyss. Therefore, may I be allowed to repeat again and again: Marley was dead as a nail in the lintel.

What a badass he was, that Scrooge! This is someone who knew how to squeeze out juices, pull out veins, hammer into a coffin, rake, seize, grab, extort... The old sinner knew how, he knew how! It was not a man, but a flint. Yes, he was cold and hard, like flint, and no one had ever managed to carve even a spark of compassion from his stone heart. Secretive, withdrawn, lonely - he hid like an oyster in his shell. Mental cold froze the senile features of his face from the inside, sharpened his hooked nose, wrinkled the skin on his cheeks, constrained his gait, made his lips turn blue and his eyes red, and made his creaky voice icy. And even his stubbled chin, sparse hair and eyebrows seemed frosted with frost. He brought this chilling atmosphere with him everywhere. Scrooge's presence froze his office in the summer heat, and he did not allow it to thaw even half a degree even on merry Christmastide.

Do you think this upset Scrooge? Not at all. He made his way through life, avoiding everyone, and those who knew him well believed that it was somehow sweet for him to scare away the slightest manifestation of sympathy.

And then one day - and not just sometime, but on Christmas Eve itself - old Scrooge was poring over account books in his office. It was cold, dreary weather, and still foggy, and Scrooge could hear passers-by outside the window scurrying back and forth, stamping loudly along the sidewalk, puffing and beating their sides to keep warm. The city clock in the bell tower had just struck three, but it was already getting dark, and that day and in the morning everything, and the lights of the candles that glowed in the windows of the offices lay like crimson strokes on the dark curtain of fog - so dense that it seemed you could touch it hand. The fog crawled into every crack, seeped into every keyhole, and even in this cramped courtyard, the houses opposite, barely visible behind a thick dirty gray veil, looked like ghosts. Looking at the clouds of fog that descended lower and lower, hiding all objects from view, one might think that Nature herself had opened a brewery somewhere in the neighborhood and was brewing beer for the holiday.

Happy holiday, uncle! I hope you have a lot of fun this Christmas! - there was a cheerful exclamation. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew. The young man burst into the office so quickly that Scrooge did not have time to raise his head from his papers before his nephew was already standing near his desk.

Nonsense! - Scrooge grumbled. - Nonsense!

Scrooge's nephew was so warmed up, walking briskly through the frost that he seemed to be radiating with heat, like from a stove. His cheeks were flushed - it was simply delightful to look at, his eyes sparkled, and steam poured out of his mouth.

Is Christmas time nonsense, uncle? - asked the nephew. - That's right, I didn't understand you!

We heard! - said Scrooge. - Have fun at Christmas time! By what right do you want to have fun? What reason do you have for fun? Or do you feel like you're not poor enough yet?

“In that case,” the nephew responded cheerfully, “by what right are you so gloomy, uncle?” What reason do you have for being gloomy? Or do you feel like you're not rich enough yet?

To this Scrooge, not having time to prepare a more intelligible answer, repeated his “nonsense” and added “nonsense!”

“Don’t grumble, uncle,” said the nephew.

What do you want me to do? - objected Scrooge, - what if I live among such dunces as you? Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas! Fuck off with your Christmastide! What is Christmas time for people like you? This means that it’s time to pay the bills, and the money is going to roll in the air. It's time to draw up the annual balance sheet, but month after month you have no profits, only losses, and although one has been added to your age, not a single penny has been added to your capital. “If it were up to me,” Scrooge continued indignantly, “I would be such a blockhead who runs around and shouts: “Merry Christmastide! Merry Christmastide!” - would be boiled alive along with the filling for Yule pudding, and a holly stake driven into his grave*.

Uncle! - the nephew begged.

Nephew! - Uncle snapped. - Celebrate your Christmastide as you wish, and leave it to me to celebrate them in my own way.

Celebrate! - exclaimed the nephew. - So you can’t handle them in any way!