Dickens the night before Christmas. Reviews and reviews of the book "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens

Miser Scrooge

Christmas song in prose

(translated by Lev May)

First stanza. Marley's Ghost

Let's start from the beginning: Marley died. There can be no shadow of doubt about this. The register of births is signed by the parish priest, the clergyman and the undertaker. Scrooge also signed it, and Scrooge’s name was loud on the stock exchange, wherever and whatever it pleased him to sign.

The fact is that old Marley was driven into his grave like an aspen stake.

Let me! Don’t think that I am personally convinced of the deadness of an aspen stake: I think, on the contrary, that there is nothing deadlier in the trade of a nail driven into the lid of a coffin...

But... the mind of our ancestors was formed on similarities and proverbs, and it is not appropriate for my wicked hand to touch the sacred ark of centuries - otherwise my homeland will perish...

So, you will allow me to repeat with due emphasis that Marley was driven into the grave like an aspen stake...

The question is: did Scrooge know that Marley was dead? Of course he knew, but how could he not know? He and Marley personified the trading company.

For God knows how many years Scrooge had been the executor, the only trustee, the only friend, and the only attendant of Merle's coffin. In truth, the death of his friend did not upset him so much that on the very day of the funeral he did not find himself business person and thrifty steward of the sad procession.

It is this word that leads me to my first thought, namely, that Marley undoubtedly died, and that, therefore, if he had not died, there would be nothing surprising in my story.

If we were not convinced that Hamlet’s father had died before the play began, none of us would have even paid attention to the fact that a gentleman of venerable years was strolling inopportunely, in the darkness and in the fresh breeze, along the city ramparts, between the graves, with the only The goal is to completely destroy the damaged mental abilities of his beloved son. As for Scrooge himself, it never occurred to him to cross out the name of his fellow trader from the account books: for many years after Marley’s death, there was still a sign above the entrance to their common store with the inscription: “Scrooge and Marley.” The company of the trading house was still the same: “Scrooge and Marley”. It sometimes happened that some gentlemen, new to trade turnover, called this house: Scrooge-Scrooge, and sometimes simply: Merley; but the company was always ready to respond equally to one name or another.

ABOUT! Scrooge fully studied his hand millstone and held it tightly in his fist, sweetest person- and an old sinner: a miser for show, he knew how to press, and squeeze, and scrape, and most importantly, not let go of his hands. He was unyielding and strong, like a gun flint - you can’t even knock a spark out of him without flint; he was silent, secretive and reclusive, like an oyster. Mental cold froze his face, pinched his pointed nose, wrinkled his cheeks, stiffened his gait and soured his voice. The constant frost whitened his head, eyebrows and convulsively sly chin. Always and everywhere he brought his own temperature with him - below zero, he froze his office even during the holidays and, for the sake of Christmas itself, did not raise the heart thermometer by a single degree.

External heat and cold did not have the slightest influence on Scrooge: the summer heat did not warm him, he did not feel cold in the cruelest winter; and yet the autumn wind has never been sharper than it; Neither snow nor rain had ever fallen on anyone's head as mercilessly as he did; he did not allow rain, sleet, or frost - in all their abundance: Scrooge did not understand this word.

No one has ever met him on the street with a friendly smile and the words: “How are you, most honorable Mr. Scrooge? When will you visit us? Not a single beggar dared to stretch out their hands to him for a half-size; not a single boy asked him: “What time is it?” No one, neither man nor woman, during Scrooge's entire life, asked him: “how to get there?” Even the dog - the counselor of the street blind man, it seems - knew Scrooge: as soon as he saw him, he would lead his owner either under the gate or into some nook and cranny, and begin wagging his tail, as if he were saying: “My poor master! Do you know that it’s better to go blind than to put the evil eye on good people?”

What does it matter to Scrooge? This is exactly what he craved. He longed to go life's path alone, apart from the crowd, with a sign on his forehead: “Pa-adi-beware!” And then - “don’t feed him gingerbread!” as they say, gourmands are children.

One day, on the best day of the year, Christmas Eve, old Scrooge was sitting in his office and was very busy. It was freezing; the fog was falling; Scrooge could hear the passers-by in the alley whistling into their fists, puffing, clapping their hands, and dancing on the trepak panel to keep warm.

It had only struck three o'clock in the afternoon at the City Tower, and it was already completely dark outside. However, it had not been light since morning, and the lights in the neighboring windows of the offices turned red as oil stains against the blackish background of the thick, almost tactile air. The fog penetrated into every crack of the house and keyholes; on outdoors he rallied to such an extent that, despite the narrowness of the alley, the opposite houses seemed like some kind of ghosts. Looking at the dark clouds, one would think that they were descending closer and closer to the ground with the intention of smoking the huge brewery.

The door to Scrooge's office was open, so that he could constantly keep an eye on his clerk, who was busy copying out several papers in a dark closet - something like a well. Scrooge's fire was barely smoldering in his fireplace, and the clerk's was even smaller: just one coal. He could not add anything to it, because the basket of coals stood in Scrooge’s room, and every time the clerk timidly entered with a shovel, Scrooge warned him that he would be forced to part with him. As a result, the clerk wrapped a white “nose-hide” around his neck and tried to warm up by the candle; but, with such a visible lack of ingenuity, of course he did not achieve his goal.

Happy holiday, uncle, and may God bless you! - a cheerful voice rang out.

What kind of nonsense is this? - asked Scrooge. His nephew walked towards him so quickly and became so flushed in the frosty fog that his cheeks were ablaze, his face was as red as a cherry, his eyes sparkled and steam poured out of his mouth in a column.

Like uncle: Christmas time is nothing? - Scrooge's nephew remarked. - Is that what you're saying?

So what? - answered Scrooge. - Merry Christmastide. What right do you have to have fun? What right do you have to go broke on fun?.. After all, he’s already poor...

That's enough, that's enough! - the nephew objected. - Better tell me: what right do you have to frown and fuss over numbers?.. After all, you’re already rich.

Bah! - continued Scrooge, not prepared for the answer, and for his “Bah!” added: “All this is nonsense!”

Stop moping, uncle.

You will inevitably become depressed with such crazy people. Merry Christmas! Well, your fun!.. And what are your Christmastide? Urgent time - to pay bills; and you probably don’t even have any money... But with every Christmastide you grow older whole year and you remember that you lived another twelve months without profit. No! If it were up to me, I would order each such crazy person, for congratulatory errands, to be boiled in a cauldron - with his own pudding, buried, and at the same time, so that he would not run away from the grave, pierce his chest with a branch of holly... That's it!

Uncle! - the nephew began to speak, - as a lawyer for Christmastide.

What, nephew? - his uncle interrupted him sternly. - Celebrate Christmastide as you want, and I’ll celebrate them in my own way.

The genre of the Christmas story assumes that it will be about something unusual, which could only happen on the eve of a great holiday or on Christmastide, when wizards and fairy-tale spirits appear in the human world and act freely, helping or, conversely, harming a person.

The creation of this genre is often credited English writer Charles Dickens. Although his “Christmas Carol” was published in 1843, and “Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka,” which included the story “The Night Before Christmas” by N.V. Gogol - in 1832. But finding out who was first and who was second is not that interesting to us. Another thing is much more important - in every Christmas story there is an obligatory “set” characteristic of the genre - it will be found in Dickens, and Gogol, and Janson, and in the modern Swedish writer Sven Nordquist, and in the fairy tale “The Nutcracker”, and in Christmas adventures of the Moomins. Let's remember the Christmas stories of different authors from different countries and let's see what unites them.

Miser Scrooge and the Perfume

Of Dickens’s five Christmas stories, which appeared over five years in December, the first is the most famous; in fact, it is truly “Christmas”, since its action takes place directly on Christmas Eve and the first days of Christmastide.

The miser Scrooge, who is annoyed by the approach of the holidays, when no one will work and earn money, but will only have fun and laze around, meets on the way home the spirit of his companion Jacob Marley, who died on Christmas Eve seven years ago. Marley's spirit tells Scrooge that he was punished for not striving to do good and help those in need during his life, and now he wants Scrooge to change, so three spirits will be sent to him to help him improve.

And so the Christmas spirits come one by one to the greedy old man. The first, the Spirit of the Past, takes him to those pictures of childhood that Scrooge had long forgotten, but now, looking at his little self from the outside, he softens a little. The second, the Spirit of the present Christmastide, leads Scrooge to the house of his employee Bob Cratchit, whose son is seriously ill. And he shows him the life that Scrooge had long ago rejected, in which there is a place for adversity, joys, trials and hopes. The old miser had not experienced such emotions for a long time; he lived in a world in which there was only a thirst for profit and anger.

The third spirit takes the old man into the future: on the streets everyone is talking about someone’s death, and no one feels sorry for this person. Three thieves robbed the house of the deceased and sold things to a buyer in the slums, reasoning that “he probably deliberately dared us all during his life so that we could profit from him after his death.” Scrooge realizes that he sees his own end and he becomes scared. He decides to change, goes to his nephew's house, helps Bob's son, donates money to charity. He changes completely.

Dickens' story contains elements of a fairy tale, folklore and reality are intertwined amazingly. The writer gives the hero the opportunity to see himself from the outside, to see what self-interest and passion for profit lead to. Scrooge is scary, but even the greatest sinner can reform. Another important motif, characteristic of all works of this genre without exception, is the motif of family. At first it sounds as if from afar. Scrooge is lonely and someone else's desire to be with his loved one, with his children, irritates him. When the spirit takes him back in time, he remembers his beloved and why she did not become his wife, seeing in him everything that was burning with greed. At the end of the story, the theme of family is heard already in full voice, it is to his nephew that Scrooge goes to celebrate Christmas.

"Christmas Eve"

These motifs are also heard in Gogol’s story, part of the cycle “Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka”. Here you have magical creatures - and a witch who steals stars from the sky, and a devil on a broom, and revenge evil spirits blacksmith Vakula for daring to draw a picture Last Judgment, and Vakula’s love for the proud beauty Oksana, and the formidable father - the Cossack Chub. It is in connection with Vakula, Oksana and Chub that the family theme in the story, which is actually the main storyline: if the blacksmith can get the royal slippers, then Oksana will agree to become his wife.

However, does it make sense to retell a story that each of us has read so many times? The beginning of a story always takes us to another world, where a fairy tale becomes a common occurrence, and no one is surprised when the dumplings themselves jump into the mouth, just have time to open it:

“The last day before Christmas has passed. Winter, clear night arrived. The stars looked out. The moon majestically rose to the sky to shine good people and to the whole world, so that everyone can have fun caroling and praising Christ. It was freezing more than in the morning; but it was so quiet that the crunch of frost under a boot could be heard half a mile away. Not a single crowd of boys had ever appeared under the windows of the huts; for a month he only glanced at them furtively, as if calling the girls who were dressing up to run out quickly into the slippery snow...”

When you read about this snow, and snow, and the moon, about how the beautiful Oksana realized that she had given an impossible task to the blacksmith in vain, about how he marveled at the expensive decoration of the St. Petersburg palace and the slippers that were put on the queen’s legs, about how he decorated the church and wrote a devil in the fire in the corner - “so disgusting that everyone spat when they passed by”, you understand that this is much closer to real life, and a real Christmas than meets the eye. Because the main thing in this Holiday is a miracle, and Gogol has more than enough of it.

Christmas Scandinavian style

The motifs discussed above are the interweaving of fairy tales and reality, magical creatures- with very real ones and, of course, the theme of family, a warm home in which you will always be accepted and understood, is close to the Christmas stories of both Tove Janson and Sven Nordqvist.

There are two “Christmas” stories in the series of books about Findus and Petson, these are “Christmas in Petson’s House” and “Mechanical Santa Claus.” For those who are not familiar with these heroes, I will briefly describe them. Pettson is an elderly man who lives in a small Swedish village, somewhere far, far away, he takes care of his house, fishing, chickens, vegetable garden and all kinds of mechanical improvements. Findus is a small, eccentric kitten, thanks to whom both heroes constantly find themselves in some kind of story.

For children school age the book “Mechanical Santa Claus” will be interesting - there is a place and amazing inventions the eccentric Petson and real magic. Preschoolers will be closer to the story “Christmas in Pettson’s House” (this recommendation is conditional): “It’s finally warming up! For several days now, Petson has been planning to go to the store, but it was very cold, and he did not dare to go outside. And now it’s almost Christmas Eve, and there’s almost no food left in the house. You must definitely buy groceries, because tomorrow the stores will be closed. And we also need to cut down the Christmas tree, bake cinnamon cookies, clean up the house...”

Petson goes into the forest to get a Christmas tree, but bad luck - he injures his leg, now there will be no shops, holiday decorations, gifts and tasty food. But Christmas is a time when miracles happen all the time. Neighbors come to the aid of the unfortunate Petson. The motive of closeness to each other, the theme of friendship and mutual assistance and necessarily a happy ending- indispensable attributes of this festive genre.

If you are not yet familiar with the books of Sven Nordqvist, I will note amazing illustrations, made by the author of the text himself - original, entertaining, bright, they do not just complement the text, but are, as it were, a separate plot. Nordqvist is a wonderful illustrator; in fact, this was his specialty from the very beginning; he began writing books later. Stories about Petson and Findus are popular both in the author’s homeland and in Europe; cartoons have been made based on them. By the way, any of the books about these heroes is colorful and original gift on holiday.

You can also read a truly “Christmas” story from Tove Janson, the famous writer who created a series of books about the Moomins. “The Spruce” is usually not included in Janson’s most popular publications, however, both this short story and others from the collection “The Invisible Child” are amazing in their subtlety and poetry.

The irritated Hemulen climbed onto the roof of the Moomin house and began to clear the snow from it, he was tasked with waking up the Moomins for Christmas:

“Mom, wake up,” Moomintroll whispered in fear. - Something terrible happened. They call it Christmas.

- What do you mean? – Mom asked, leaning out from under the blanket.

“I don’t know for sure,” her son answered. “But nothing is ready, and something is missing, and everyone is running around like crazy.” Maybe there will be another flood.

He carefully shook Miss Snork and whispered:

“Don’t be scared, but they say something terrible happened.”

“Calm down,” said dad. “Only calm.”

So what is Christmas? Why do you need a Christmas tree - to appease Christmas or to hide from it under it? And the Christmas dinner everyone talks about so much? Why light candles and give gifts? And to whom? Probably for those who have never had such a holiday, delicious food, and gifts. And when you do something for someone else, then an incomprehensible Christmas is no longer scary at all.

"The Nutcracker and the Mouse King"

And yet, the most “Christmas” of all the fairy tales I know, I would call the book by E. T. A. Hoffmann “The Nutcracker and mouse king", which was written in 1816.

Probably because this fairy tale has long been inseparable for us from the wonderful, festive music of P.I. Tchaikovsky. It was the production in December 1892 at the Mariinsky Theater that gave the fairy tale new life. It is interesting that the libretto for the ballet was written by Marius Petipa, using not Hoffmann’s text, but a retelling that he made in mid-19th century century Alexander Dumas the father.

It’s impossible not to remember these beautiful fairy-tale scenes in December - the holiday in the Stahlbaums’ house, the mysterious Drosselmeyer, the meeting of Marie and the Nutcracker, the attack of mice and the battle, and then the heroes’ journey through the doll kingdom: the mysterious Christmas forest, the candy meadow, the lemonade river and the lake of almond milk. And in Tchaikovsky’s ballet there are also dances performed by dolls: Spanish, Indian, Chinese and Russian, each doll thanks Marie in its own way for saving their lives and defeating the terrible mouse king.

And the capital of the kingdom - the city of Confetenburg with Marzipan Castle - isn’t this a miracle that you really want to read about even now, in December, when the evenings are so long, snow is falling outside the window, the house smells of a Christmas tree, which is already decorated for the holiday and, as in childhood, for a moment it may seem that the dolls will come to life, and the fairy tale will turn out to be reality, because Marie also became Drosselmeyer’s bride: “They say that a year later he took her away in a golden carriage drawn by silver horses, that at their wedding twenty-two thousand elegant dolls danced, sparkling with diamonds and pearls, and Marie, as they say, is still the queen in a country where, if only you have eyes, you will see sparkling candied fruit groves and transparent marzipan castles everywhere , all sorts of miracles and wonders."

A Christmas Carol became a sensation when it was first published, influencing our Christmas traditions. This is a parable story about the rebirth of the miser and misanthrope Scrooge, in which the writer, with the help fantastic images shows the Yule Spirits to his hero the only way to salvation - to do good to people. The book is superbly illustrated.

The story of Scrooge - a man who loved no one, hated everyone, and legends circulated around the city about his stinginess and callousness. He was treated accordingly. One day, the spirit of Marley's late companion appeared to Scrooge. The author skillfully describes the appearance of this spirit in such a way that the blood in the veins of not only the protagonist, but also the reader, runs cold. Scrooge spent his entire life hoarding, didn’t help anyone, and didn’t respond to requests. And then he completely loses peace. We are witnessing a complete rebirth of man. Cynicism is replaced by bitter regret and repentance. Marley asks Higher power help your friend change. They send three more spirits to help him. The appearance of everyone is a real test for Scrooge. However, he succeeded. It turns out how wonderful life is when you live for others! Empty and barren, it is filled with quality content. If this had not happened, then within a year the hero would have died. This is what the spirit of Christmas predicted for him. The gloom and hopelessness of the plot gradually dissolve, giving way to light, love, and joy.

Quotes from the book A Christmas Carol:

“At least the Christmas holidays. But all the same, besides the reverence that one feels before this sacred word, and the pious memories that are inseparable from it, I always looked forward to these days as the best of the year. These are joyful days - days of mercy, kindness, forgiveness. These are the only days in the entire calendar when people seem to tacit consent, freely open their hearts to each other and see in their neighbors - even in the poor and disadvantaged - the same people as themselves, wandering the same road to the grave with them, and not some creatures of a different breed who should go on a different path . And therefore, uncle, although it is true that at Christmas time I have never had a single coin added to my pocket, I believe that Christmas brings me good and will continue to bring good, and long live Christmas!

“The fog is getting thicker, the frost is getting stronger! Fierce, piercing cold! If Saint Dunstan, instead of red-hot tongs, had grabbed Satan by the nose with this kind of frost, he would have howled from such a thorough pinch!”

“In the black gateway of the house such a thick fog swirled and there was such a thick layer of frost, as if evil spirit bad weather sat there, immersed in heavy thought."

“The soul contained in every person,” the ghost objected, “must communicate with people and, following them everywhere, participate in their fate. And those who did not fulfill this during life are doomed to hang around after death. He is condemned to travel around the world and - oh, woe is me! - to look at the joys and sorrows of people, which he no longer has the power to share, but once he could - for the joy of himself and others.”

“I wear a chain that I forged myself during my life,” answered the ghost. “I forged it link by link and yard by yard.” I girded myself with it of my own free will, and of my own free will I wear it. Isn’t the sight of this chain familiar to you?”

"- Affairs! - cried the ghost, wringing his hands again. - Caring for my neighbor was what should have become my business. The public good is what I should have strived for. Mercy, compassion, generosity, this is what I had to direct my activities towards. And engaging in commerce is just a drop of water in the vast ocean of affairs destined for us.”

“And all these spirits clearly wanted to intervene in the affairs of mortals and bring good, but they had already lost this opportunity forever, and this was precisely the reason for their torment.”

“The spirit turned a gentle glance towards Scrooge. His light touch, fleeting and weightless as it was, awakened some feelings in the chest of old Scrooge. It seemed to him that a thousand smells wafted over him, and each smell awakened thousands of memories of long-forgotten thoughts, aspirations, joys, hopes.”

“And then there was dancing again, and then forfeits and dancing again, and then there was sweet pie, and mulled wine, and a large piece of cold roast beef, and a large piece of cold boiled beef, and in the end there were fried pies with raisins and cinnamon and plenty beer"

“Oh, all this means so little to you now,” she said quietly. “You now worship another deity, and it has driven me out of your heart.” Well, if it can support and comfort you, as I would like to support and comfort, then, of course, I should not be sad.
-What is this deity that displaced you? - asked Scrooge.
- Money.
- There is no justice on earth! - said Scrooge. - The world most mercilessly punishes poverty, and no less severely - in words, at least - condemns the pursuit of wealth.
“You tremble too much before the opinion of the world,” she meekly reproached him. “You changed all your previous hopes and dreams for the sake of one thing - to become invulnerable to his pin pricks. Didn’t I see how all your noble aspirations died one after another and a new all-conquering passion, the passion for profit, little by little took possession of you completely!

“However, I admit, I would immensely like to touch her lips, turn to her with a question, see how she opens her lips, answering me! Admire her lowered eyelashes without bringing color to her cheeks! Let down her silky hair, each strand of which is a priceless treasure! In a word, I won’t hide the fact that I would like to enjoy all the rights of a playful child, but at the same time be an old enough man to know their value.”

“Scrooge involuntarily thought that the same graceful, full of life creature could call him father and warm the harsh winter of his old age with the breath of her spring!”

“Stacked on the floor in a huge pile resembling a throne were roasted turkeys, geese, chickens, game, pork hams, large pieces of beef, suckling pigs, garlands of sausages, fried pies, plumpuddings, barrels of oysters, hot chestnuts, ruddy apples, juicy oranges. , fragrant pears, huge liver pies and steaming bowls of punch, the fragrant vapors of which hung in the air like fog.”

“It was morning, Christmas morning and a good strong frost, and a kind of music was sounding on the street, a little harsh, but pleasant - they were clearing snow from the sidewalks and raking it from the roofs, to the insane delight of the boys, who watched how, crumbling into the smallest dust, they collapsed on snow avalanches on the ground.
Against the background of the dazzling white cover that lay on the roofs, and even the not so snow-white one that lay on the ground, the walls of the houses seemed gloomy, and the windows even gloomier and darker. The heavy wheels of carriages and wagons left deep ruts in the snow, and at the intersections of large streets these ruts, crossing hundreds of times, formed a complex network of channels filled with icy water in the thick yellow crumble of melted snow. The sky was gloomy, and the streets were drowned in an ashen-dirty haze, similar either to frost or steam and settling on the ground with a dark dew like soot, as if all the chimneys of England had conspired with each other - and well, whoever would smoke what a lot! In a word, neither the city itself nor the climate were particularly conducive to fun, and yet there was fun on the streets - as fun as it doesn’t happen, perhaps, even on the nicest summer day, when the sun shines so brightly and the air is so fresh and clean."

“The counters of the fruit stalls shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. There were huge round baskets of chestnuts, like the vested bellies of jolly old gentlemen. They stood leaning against the ceiling, and sometimes even rolled out of the threshold, as if they were afraid to suffocate from plethora and satiety. There were also ruddy, dark-skinned, fat-bellied Spanish onions, smooth and shiny, like the fat-slick cheeks of Spanish monks. Slyly and impudently, they winked from the shelves at the girls running past, who with feigned shyness glanced furtively at the mistletoe sprig suspended from the ceiling. There were apples and pears stacked in tall, colorful pyramids. There were bunches of grapes, hung by the shop owner in the most prominent places, so that passers-by could, while admiring them, salivate for free. There were piles of nuts - brown, slightly fluffy - whose fresh aroma brought back memories of past walks through the forest, when it was so pleasant to wander, drowning ankle-deep in fallen leaves, and hear them rustle under your feet. There were baked apples, plump, glossy brown, complementing the bright yellow of lemons and oranges and with all their appetizing appearance persistently and passionately convincing you to take them home to paper bag and eat it for dessert."

“The mixed aroma of coffee and tea tickled the nostrils so pleasantly, and there were so many raisins and such rare varieties, and the almonds were so dazzlingly white, and the cinnamon sticks were so straight and long, and all the other spices smelled so delicious, and the candied fruits shone through so seductively covering them with sugar icing, which even the most indifferent buyers began to suck in the pit of their stomach! And not only were the figs so fleshy and juicy, and the dried plums blushed so bashfully and smiled so sweet and sour from their sumptuously decorated boxes, and everything, absolutely everything looked so tasty and so elegant in its Christmas decoration...”

“Here, on your sinful land,” said the Spirit, “there are many people who boast of their closeness to us and, prompted by hatred, envy, anger, pride, bigotry and selfishness, do their bad deeds, hiding behind our name. But these people are as alien to us as if they had never been born. Remember this and blame only themselves for their actions, not us.”

“Illness and sorrow are easily transmitted from person to person, but still there is nothing more contagious on earth than laughter and a cheerful mood, and I see in this the expedient, noble and fair arrangement of things in nature.”

“It’s so gratifying sometimes to become children again, at least for a while! And this is especially good at Christmas time, when we celebrate the birth of the divine baby.”

“The spirit stood at the bedside of the sick man, and the sick man was encouraged and cheerful; he approached the wanderers, yearning for a foreign land, and it seemed to them that their homeland was close; to those exhausted in everyday struggle - and they were inspired by new hope; to the poor - and they found wealth in themselves. In prisons, hospitals and almshouses, in wretched shelters of poverty - wherever vanity and pathetic earthly pride do not close a person’s heart to the gracious spirit of the holiday - everywhere he gave people his blessing and taught Scrooge the commandments of mercy.”

“The boy's name is Ignorance. The girl's name is Poverty. Beware of both and everything that is related to them, but most of all, beware of the boy, for “Destruction” is inscribed on his forehead and he brings death with him if this inscription is not erased. Well, deny it! - the Spirit cried, turning towards the city and stretching out his hand towards it.
Blame those who tell you this! Use ignorance and poverty for your unclean, selfish purposes! Increase them, multiply them! And wait for the end!”

“And the best and most remarkable thing was that the Future belonged to him and he could still change his fate.”

“I don’t know what’s happening to me! - he cried, crying and laughing and with the help of the stockings wrapped around him, turning into a kind of Laocoon. - It’s so easy for me, as if I were a piece of fluff, so joyful, as if I were an angel, so fun, as if I were a schoolboy! A head goes all around like a drunk! Merry Christmas, happy holidays to everyone, everyone! I wish a happy New Year to everyone, everyone in the world! Gop-la-la! Gop-la-la! Hooray! Hooray! Oh-la-la!

“Running to the window, Scrooge lifted the frame and leaned out. No darkness, no fog! Clear, fine day. Stinging, invigorating frost. He whistles into his icy pipe and makes the blood dance through his veins. golden sun! Azure sky! Transparent Fresh air! Merry ringing of bells! Oh, how wonderful! How wonderful, wonderful!”

“Some people laughed at this transformation, but Scrooge did not pay attention to them - laugh your heart out! He was smart enough and knew that this is how the world works - there will always be people ready to ridicule a good deed. He understood that those who laugh are blind, and thought: let them laugh, as long as they don’t cry! His heart was cheerful and light, and that was quite enough for him.”

“And now all we have to do is repeat after Little Tim: may God overshadow us all with his mercy!”

Excellent edition:

Literature of the world: Literature of England

First edition of the book (1843):

In cinema and animation:

The story has been filmed several times. The earliest film version was the 1901 silent film Scrooge, or Marley's Ghost. In November 2009, another film adaptation was released.

The famous Disney cartoon character Scrooge McDuck was named after the main character of A Christmas Carol. In fact, he first appeared in Disney cartoon based on this story, where all the characters were played disney characters, for example Mickey Mouse as Bob Cratchit, Pete as the Spirit of Christmas Future, etc.

The New Christmas Tale (English Scrooged) is a modern satirical adaptation of A Christmas Carol made by director Richard Donner in 1988.

1992 feature film The Muppet Christmas Carol.

One of the episodes of the animated series "101 Dalmatians". The plot of this series has both similarities and differences.

In one of the episodes of the animated series "Ghostbusters", the heroes accidentally find themselves in the reality of the story and catch the Spirits of Christmas when they attack Scrooge. Returning to their reality, they discover that the Christmas holiday has ceased to exist. And then they return to Scrooge’s reality and themselves replace the Spirits of Christmas (the Spirit of Christmas Past is portrayed by Peter, the present by Winston, and the future by Ray). Meanwhile, Egon manages to return the real Spirits.

A slightly changed meaning of the story is present in the cartoon “All Dogs Celebrate Christmas.”

In the "A Christmas Carol" episode of "A Time to Repent," Nicole Julian's character encounters the ghosts of Christmas Present, Christmas Past, and Future Christmas.

In the special episode of the television series Doctor Who, which was released on December 25, 2010, events take place according to the plot of the story.

Scenario comedy melodrama"Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" is based on "A Christmas Carol." In this version, the emphasis falls mainly on the topic of sex and the main character’s relationships with both many random women and his childhood friend and first love.

The Beavis and Butt-head Extended Episode "Beavis and Butt-head Do Cristmas" also parodies A Christmas Carol by having Beavis dream that he is a cruel diner owner. Principal McVicker turns into his downtrodden employee as Bob Cratchit; hippie teacher David portrays the good spirit of the current Christmastide, and the evil physical education teacher becomes the sinister spirit of future Christmastide.

"Barbie: A Christmas Story." A story based on the work of Charles Dickens. In the cartoon, everything is depicted much kinder than in the original.

In one episode, "Naughty Animations," the plot is based on a Christmas carol. Mr. Blots plays the role of Scrooge, and the Warners appear as ghosts.

In one of the episodes of the animated series "Tutenstein" the plot depicts a similar time travel, although it has nothing to do with Christmas.

In economics

Philosophy professor at the University of Arizona Gerald Gaus published an article in 1997, “The Importance of Minding Your Own Business,” dedicated to the political rehabilitation of Ebenezer Scrooge. The author states that Scrooge is the embodiment of an important and rare virtue: the ability not to meddle in other people's affairs without asking. It is this feature that underlies a libertarian society, the professor believes.

Charles Dickens

Miser Scrooge

Christmas song in prose

(translated by Lev May)

First stanza. Marley's Ghost

The fact is that old Marley was driven into his grave like an aspen stake.

But... the mind of our ancestors was formed on similarities and proverbs, and it is not appropriate for my wicked hand to touch the sacred ark of centuries - otherwise my homeland will perish...

So, you will allow me to repeat with due emphasis that Marley was driven into the grave like an aspen stake...

The question is: did Scrooge know that Marley was dead? Of course he knew, but how could he not know? He and Marley personified the trading company.

For God knows how many years Scrooge had been the executor, the only trustee, the only friend, and the only attendant of Merle's coffin. In truth, the death of his friend did not upset him so much that, on the very day of the funeral, he did not turn out to be a business man and a thrifty manager of the sad procession.

It is this word that leads me to my first thought, namely, that Marley undoubtedly died, and that, therefore, if he had not died, there would be nothing surprising in my story.

If we were not convinced that Hamlet’s father had died before the play began, none of us would have even paid attention to the fact that a gentleman of venerable years was strolling inopportunely, in the darkness and in the fresh breeze, along the city ramparts, between the graves, with the only The goal is to completely destroy the damaged mental abilities of his beloved son. As for Scrooge himself, it never occurred to him to cross out the name of his fellow trader from the account books: for many years after Marley’s death, there was still a sign above the entrance to their common store with the inscription: “Scrooge and Marley.” The company of the trading house was still the same: “Scrooge and Marley”. It sometimes happened that some gentlemen, new to trade turnover, called this house: Scrooge-Scrooge, and sometimes simply: Merley; but the company was always ready to respond equally to one name or another.

ABOUT! Scrooge fully studied his hand millstone and held it tightly in his fist, a dear man - and an old sinner: a miser for show, he knew how to press, and squeeze, and scrape, and most importantly, not let go of his hands. He was unyielding and strong, like a gun flint - you can’t even knock a spark out of him without flint; he was silent, secretive and reclusive, like an oyster. Mental cold froze his face, pinched his pointed nose, wrinkled his cheeks, stiffened his gait and soured his voice. The constant frost whitened his head, eyebrows and convulsively sly chin. Always and everywhere he brought his own temperature with him - below zero, he froze his office even during the holidays and, for the sake of Christmas itself, did not raise the heart thermometer by a single degree.

What does it matter to Scrooge? This is exactly what he craved. He longed to walk the path of life alone, apart from the crowd, with a sign on his forehead: “Pa-adi-beware!” And then - “don’t feed him gingerbread!” as they say, gourmands are children.

It had only struck three o'clock in the afternoon at the City Tower, and it was already completely dark outside. However, it had not been light since morning, and the lights in the neighboring windows of the offices turned red as oil stains against the blackish background of the thick, almost tactile air. The fog penetrated into the houses through all the cracks and keyholes; in the open air he became so united that, despite the narrowness of the lane, the opposite houses seemed like some kind of ghosts. Looking at the dark clouds, one would think that they were descending closer and closer to the ground with the intention of smoking the huge brewery.

Happy holiday, uncle, and may God bless you! - a cheerful voice rang out.

Like uncle: Christmas time is nothing? - Scrooge's nephew remarked. - Is that what you're saying?

So what? - answered Scrooge. - Merry Christmastide. What right do you have to have fun? What right do you have to go broke on fun?.. After all, he’s already poor...

That's enough, that's enough! - the nephew objected. - Better tell me: what right do you have to frown and fuss over numbers?.. After all, you’re already rich.

Bah! - continued Scrooge, not prepared for the answer, and for his “Bah!” added: “All this is nonsense!”

Stop moping, uncle.

You will inevitably become depressed with such crazy people. Merry Christmas! Well, your fun!.. And what are your Christmastide? Urgent time - to pay bills; and you probably don’t even have any money... But with every Christmastide, you age a whole year and remember that you lived another twelve months without profit. No! If it were up to me, I would order each such crazy person, for congratulatory errands, to be boiled in a cauldron - with his own pudding, buried, and at the same time, so that he would not run away from the grave, pierce his chest with a branch of holly... That's it!

Uncle! - the nephew began to speak, - as a lawyer for Christmastide.

What, nephew? - his uncle interrupted him sternly. - Celebrate Christmastide as you want, and I’ll celebrate them in my own way.

Will you celebrate? - his nephew repeated after him.

Is that really how they celebrate?

Well, don’t!.. I wish you New Year new happiness if the old is not enough.

It’s true: I’m missing something... Yes, there’s no need that the New Year has never filled my pocket yet, but still, Christmas time is Christmas time for me.

Scrooge's clerk involuntarily applauded this speech from the well known to us; but, realizing the indecency of his act, he rushed to adjust the fire in the fireplace and extinguished the last spark.

If you put it out any longer, Scrooge told him, you will have to celebrate Christmastide in another place. And to you, sir,” he added, turning to his nephew, “I must give complete justice: you are an excellent leader and it is in vain that you do not enter parliament.

Don't be angry, uncle: it will happen! Come and have lunch with us tomorrow.

Scrooge answered him to go to... Really: that’s what he said, he said the whole word, and so he said: let’s go... (The reader can, if he pleases, finish the word).

“Why not,” cried the nephew. - Why?

Why did you get married?

Because I fell in love.