
By James T. Summerhays
Meridian is pleased to announce new contributors to our magazine
from BYU Studies.
BYU
Studies is the university’s journal of LDS thought and scholarship.
BYU Studies is dedicated to the premise that faith is strengthened
through the intellectual pursuit of light and truth. Check back
regularly to read about the latest LDS scholarship from the journal.
To
learn more or to subscribe to BYU Studies, go to byustudies.byu.edu
Christmas
wasn’t always such a massive worldwide phenomenon of merriment
and conviviality. It once resembled something closer to a quiet
Easter Sunday, with fathers and mothers leading children somberly
to a sacred service. Two hundred years ago, Christmas passed without
hardly a thought—the program may have been watched by some at
a church or mass, but nothing unordinary was manifest in the homes
of the people—only the normal ticking of time with the normal
day’s labor.
Charles Dickens Senses His Mission
When
Charles Dickens was writing, a massive social upheaval was taking
place. Many in his day felt that the beauties of a pastoral and
rustic country living, with its healthy and swarthy country-dwellers,
was giving way to a cramped, pale, and alienating lifestyle in
a London malodor. Everyone was fleeing to the cities it seemed.
Industrialization was in full swing, and a sentimental Dickens
noted that the intertwined and generous social constructs of farm
life were being replaced by the cold-hearted and lonely demands
of modern industry. Though we may not fully relate today, enjoying
so many marvels of modern invention as we do, the beginnings of
the industrial revolution caused great difficulty and social commotion.
In
a recent and penetrating Christmas article in BYU Studies,
“Culture Carol: Dickens’s Influence on LDS Christmas Fiction,”
Rosalynde Frandsen Welch gives a
startling context to what motivated Dickens to write:
In March 1843, Charles Dickens received a copy of the Second
Report of the Children’s Employment Commission, the second part
of a government investigation in the employment of children in
mines and factories. The report was graphically illustrated with
horrific images of naked children pulling coal carts twice their
size to which they were chained, buried deep in mine shafts not
even tall enough for the children to stand up straight….Dickens,
along with his fellow middle-class Victorians, was properly shocked
by the report’s revelation of misery and wrote on the same day
that he was anxious to produce “a very cheap pamphlet called ‘An
Appeal to the People of England, on behalf of the Poor Man’s Child.’”
Four days later, his plan had changed: he would wait until the
end of the year, and then “a Sledge hammer” would “come down with
twenty times the force.” That sledgehammer was A Christmas
Carol, which appeared in December of that year. (See BYU
Studies Christmas themed edition, 40:3)
Dickens’s
words seem prophetic to us today, but they truly are an understatement
when considering what has occurred. The sledgehammer of which
he spoke came down with much more force than twenty times. Though
Dickens did hope to encourage societal changes and increase awareness
of the plight of the poor, he could not have anticipated the overwhelming
response to A Christmas Carol. The drama of a wondrously
changed Ebenezer Scrooge and the poor but benevolent Crachit
family pulled at the effectual heartstrings of English and American
families everywhere.
The
Carol has become more widely read and re-adapted to all
forms of media than any other of his works. It was not merely
a book to read, but a force for cultural change. Many scholars
agree that it was the main driving force that transformed the
Christmas holiday from a church service into a universal season
of generosity, gift giving, and family tradition.
So,
as we gather together with family and old friends, as we partake
of the carols and the merriment, as we feast upon the hams and
the casseroles, as we exchange affections with those whom we love,
and see the magic in the eyes of children unwrapping gifts next
to a glowing tree and crackling fire—we can thank Charles Dickens
for establishing the tradition through the Carol.
Social Intent of Dickens
However,
Dickens’s intention was not necessarily to affect the renewing
of a national Christmas holiday; as Welch points out adeptly in
her BYU Studies article, his intention was in the realm
of social reforms that bring people together and benefit the poor.
“Dickens wanted to begin with the most egregious of problems,
of course, and in the world of the Carol that problem turns
out to be the economic alienation dissolving human relationships
at the levels of class, family, and individual. It has been remarked
that one can be most alone in the midst of the largest crowd,
and Ebenezer Scrooge is figurative proof of that irony.” This
is part of the reason the themes in the Carol speak to
us today—the alienation and cold loneliness of the modern materialist
buy-and-sell culture leaves flesh-and-blood humans nostalgic for
a day when we needed others so much more than things.
Dickens’s
answer for this, Welch observes, is in the realm of personal virtue.
“If economic problems cause social machinery to seize up, then
love allows it to run smoothly, according to the Carol.
Charity, in other words, can compensate for the alienating forces
inherent in a capitalist economy.”
Dickens
is challenging us through the Carol. He is calling to us
to open our hearts in a show of magnanimous philanthropy. He calls
to us from the dust to reach out to the beleaguered and struggling—let
them sup with us at our tables; let the careworn feel of our open
heart and generous visage; let our purses and pocketbooks open
wide not only to our families, but also to the downtrodden of
the earth in other countries. The Carol is a plea to take
inventory of all things in our character that lead to alienation,
and then stamp it out in full accord with the spirit of Christmas.
To get the full BYU Studies Christmas Issue, click
here.
To download the full article by Rosalynde Frandsen Welch for free,
click
here.