Reading at Christmas

There are a lot of short stories and books that are either set during Christmas, or are about Christmas.

Some, like the two Miss Read Christmas stories, I like to read every year. Both of her stories show "merry little" Christmases - neither of the families involved are wealthy, and the celebrations are small. In one, a pair of spinster ladies prepare for their quiet Christmas when the boisterous family next door needs their help (The mother is going into labor with her third child, and her husband is off helping another ill family member). In the second story, a widowed woman, her widowed daughter, and her daughter's two small children prepare for a quiet Christmas when their Christmas eve is interrupted by a mouse - and by a runaway child.

In neither case is a large production made of the holiday. Oh, there are small gifts, but they are mainly "practical" gifts (new gloves, new slippers for the children). The children do get a couple of toys - small dolls and some new games - but it's a much smaller 'haul' than what an American child of my generation would probably expect. And yet, there's no sense of "is this all there is," because that's ALWAYS "all" there is, and no one wants for any more.

I think that's the thing I like, and find so touching about those stories. And also about the Little House descriptions of Christmas: how delighted the girls were to get their own tin cups to drink of (so they no longer had to share a single one). Or how exciting a piece of fancy, store-bought candy ("Made with white sugar" as is specified in the book - that would have been a big thing in those days, when maple sugar was much more common). Or an orange in the toe of the stocking.

(It's easy to forget, I think, in these days of California and Florida orange groves, and fruit shipped on planes and in refrigerated trucks, just how precious citrus used to be. And it wasn't that long ago...my dad talks about how when he was a kid, Christmastime was pretty much the only time they had oranges.)

I love those stories because it's interesting to read how other people celebrated. And it's refreshing to think of the simplicity of the celebration, and how children could be so excited by a small Dutch doll (as in the Miss Read story) or a new pair of mittens. There's something kind of touching about it, and it makes you pause and think about how much you have.

There are also a lot of stories set at Christmas that involve crime and detection. I'm sure part of this is because during the 'Golden Era' of mysteries, most magazines ran short stories, and they probably wanted one special for their "Christmas number."

I have a big compilation volume called "Murder for Christmas" (which has some funny cartoonish illustrations by Gahan Wilson in it. It is the volume that first introduced me to Inspector Alleyn ("Death on the Air" is the first Alleyn story I read). It's an enjoyable read if you like detective fiction. (There are several other volumes out there, with Christmas-themed crime fiction in them; I have one that's a Folio Press volume). Some of the stories - the more modern ones - can be a bit depressing, but many of the stories - like "The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding" (one of the later Poirot stories) - are pretty light and funny. (This is a spoiler, but: the "murder" in that story turns out not to be so.)

There are also longer Christmas-themed mysteries. "Hercule Poirot's Christmas" is one of them (In this one, there actually IS a murder). And there's a very good Hamish MacBeth outing called "A Highland Christmas." (Some might be disappointed that this outing has no murder, but I found it charming and an entertaining read. And there's a lot of discussion of the cultural celebrations of Christmas; some Scots are of a more severe strain and did not celebrate it...) And there are Nero Wolfe Christmas stories, and a couple of full-length Alleyn mysteries set at Christmas ("Tied up in Tinsel" is one of my favorite Alleyns).

And, of course, there are more serious writings on Christmas. The granddaddy of all of these is "A Christmas Carol," and I try to read it every year if I can make the time. I think a lot of our celebration of and perception of Christmas is owed to Dickens. (And there's also the wonderful Christmas at Dingley Dell chapter in Pickwick Papers).

And this year, a new one for me: Miracle and Other Christmas Stories, by Connie Willis. It's interesting to see someone I know as a science-fiction writer writing in a different genre. And obviously Connie Willis loves Christmas. Her stories, without being overly sentimental, are still funny and wonderful and celebrate the good things of Christmas.

"Miracle" (the eponymous story) is very good; it weaves in the theme of how sometimes we get what we really wanted, but weren't even wise enough to realize that we wanted it. (How many of us, I wonder, go through life thinking we want one thing, when really there's something else we want more, that's ultimately better for us, but that we've convinced ourselves we don't want, until we actually get it?)

There's another, shorter story, where a child mishears "anonymous present" as "ominous" present, which is both funny and thought provoking.

My favorite, probably, in the whole volume, though, is "Inn." Not to give too much away (but how can you not?), it involves a couple of very important visitors showing up to a church during evening choir rehearsal - but almost everyone is so blinded by their need to "get Christmas done" or by their prejudices, that they fail to see the visitors for who they really are. Except for one woman, who helps the visitors on their way, and is ultimately blessed herself. It's a fairly simple story and you can more or less guess where it's going, but there's a loveliness to it.

I also like "Epiphany," probably the longest story in there. One of the things I like about it is that it ends ambiguously - it's not all neatly wrapped up; the characters have not yet found what they are seeking when we leave them. I tend to think that stories with ambiguous endings stick more with me - that I am left thinking about the characters, wondering how their stories worked out. (It is hard for me not to imagine the characters in books I read as existing in some sort of alternate universe where they have independent lives and independent existences, and are "real" in some way. Perhaps that's why I'm so devastated when an author kills off a sympathetic character, particularly one that's been part of a long-running series: For example, I prefer to imagine Hercule Poirot in a long, quiet retirement somewhere warm - and so I will never read "Curtain," since I know what it is about.)

I wish you good reading this Christmas season.