The 22nd Annual Book Report Competition For
Secondary School Students
The “Black Cat English Readers Award” of English Senior Section
Name of School
: Cheung Chuk Shan College
Name of Award Student
: Judy Lo
Title of Book Read
: A Christmas Carol
Author
: Charles Dickens
Publisher
: The Commercial Press (H.K.) Ltd.
What is Christmas to you? Is it your cue for spending money on gifts,
entertainment, eating and drinking? Is it the time to hang up flimsy tinsel in blinding
scarlet and green? Is it the occasion for gorging on turkey, Christmas cakes, puddings,
and other traditional dishes?
Or do you actually celebrate the ancient birthday of a baby named Jesus, the
saintly figure of a religion called Christianity?
What is Christmas to those who can’t afford to spend a fortune on buying
presents and feasting; those who have no idea who Jesus Christ is; those who are too
steeped in the grief and worry about getting a full meal, and warmth in the cold water,
too bother celebrating?
A Christmas Carol tells the story of an old miser, who cared not a fig for people
poorer than he was.
On Christmas Eve, while down the length and breadth of Britain, people plied
each other with warn blessings, children sang carols on the cobbled streets, and
everyone prepared to feast in honour of the coming Lord, Scrooge returned alone to
his empty unfurnished house, just as he had done on any other night in the year.
Scrooge was malicious to his last blood relation alive: his sister’s son, a man
called Fred. Earlier that evening, Fred arrived to invite his old uncle to Christmas
dinner: a likable, robust, genial young person. Scrooge, in his contempt for a lad who
didn’t know the value of money, drove him away from his door.
The miserable moneygrubber had no friend. The person closest to him was his
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clerk, Bob Cratchit, whom Scrooge sent home on this fateful night, with a meager
payment and no season’s greetings, shivering from head to toe with fatigue and cold.
Bob had a large family at home and many children, but Scrooge ‘s wages were such
that they all went hungry. The family, from Bob’s wife to his smallest son, hated
Bob’s employer: the mean Mr. Scrooge with a bitter passion.
That was how Ebenezer Scrooge was before and on Christmas Eve, when this
story starts: a man colder and cruller than the weather in December: unloved and
utterly alone. He had brought all of that upon himself by a greed that persisted for
decades, ever since he was young. And then…something extraordinary happened, to
change forever this state of things.
A ghost called Jacob Marley came to visit him. Marley had been Scrooge’s
partner in his firm when he was alive; he had been dead for seven years. He was also
the only person Scrooge could call a friend.
He had come to warn Scrooge about the fate of those who cared too little about
the suffering of others, during their existence: they were doomed to wander around
the world after death, to be witnesses of every pitiful scene of tragedy and despair for
eternity.
From then on, three spirits came to the house where Scrooge was bound, one
after the other, over the course of one evening.
First to come was the Ghost of Christmas Past, who took him back to his
childhood memories, to remind him of the goodness and kindness he had received
from other people when he was young. Second was the Ghost of Christmas Present,
who led him on a journey to the house of Bob, his clerk, and let him see the tight
bonds of love in that family, though they were as poor as church mice. Third and final
to arrive was the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, who made prophecies of death and
darkness on Scrooge’s future, to strike him with the realization how he had always
been the cause of other people’s suffering; how he had in turn made himself suffer;
and in this way, blemished and spoiled the Christmas spirit of joy and compassion.
And this was how Scrooge took a lesson in the true meaning of Christmas.
Ever since the Victorian era, when the Christmas Carol was first published, the
story by Charles Dickens has been popular. This could be due to two reasons. Firstly,
its writing is vivid and beautiful, and it impresses everyone who read it represents are
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universal. Maybe the two reasons are closely related.
Charles Dickens is a master at grabbing the reader’s attention. The entrances of
the three Christmas ghosts are astounding, with an abundance of rich description. The
scenes of Scrooge’s childhood in the snowbound countryside, blissful families and
joyless ones, on Christmas morning when Scrooge sprang up from his harrowing
sleep to rethink his life in the winter sun…all are lovely and impressive.
In my experience, it is pure pleasure to look at the words describing the food at
Christmas, roast chestnuts, wine of every hue, grapes and great pumpkins; and feel the
reactive satisfaction arising from my stomach.
In contrast, it was sobering and tragic, even, to read about Tiny Tim, the
youngest son of Bob Cratchits, a cripple; the image of a little boy continues to haunt
me: a face pale and ethereal, a bony little figure wrapped in blue sheets; a child who
could not walk but read as though his life depended on it.
There are the moments at which the three Christmas Ghosts arrive, each more
spectacular than the last. With each appearance, Scrooge was a step closer to his
ultimate fate.
And then, the magical moment at which Scrooge sped out onto the streets in his
newly discovered Christmas joy, and raced to Bob’s house, to wring the clerk’s hands
and offer him his sincere apologies.
Such heartfelt writing is the work of a genius. Dickens’ ability to take bits and
pieces from real life and make them into a true story, of life with all its ups and downs,
is the secret of his popularity.
In everybody’s heart there is a desire for fairness and kindness, which is
represented by every line on every page of the book. And in every character, Scrooge
himself, Bob, his wives and children, Tiny Tim, Scrooge’s nephew, or even the boy on
the streets, the reader may identify a part of himself. The liveliness and colour of the
printed words in black and white makes them everlasting.
It is such a story that instills me with motive to write about the Christmas spirit.
Today celebrating Christmas has almost become incessant consumerism. People
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swap gifts and hold overnight parties. We feast on the traditional recipes on Christmas
Day: a huge roasted golden turkey or goose, sizzling with fat, pies, rich cakes, and
others. The families who could afford it decorate their houses with shiny tinsel of
gaudy colours. All of this make up the festive air, no doubt.
But there is something missing. Besides from eating, drinking and making merry,
the Christmas spirit is still sadly in want. Christmas isn’t just superficial entertainment
and satisfying stomachs. Compared to the richness and corruption of today, early
Christmas was celebrated amidst poverty.
Wasn’t Jesus Christ Born in the lowly and unkempt stables? On the first
Christmas, there were no electrical lights and gleaming candles. There was nothing
but the frosty night sky above. Mary and Joseph were tied down with fatigue, hunger
and thirst. The snorting and stamping of horses, mules, cows and sheep made up the
only music at Jesus’s birth. In the darkness, the warmth from the huge bodies of
gentle beasts encouraged the baby to survive, and Christ had nothing but a layer of
hay for cover.
There was no luxury and lavishness. There was barely any comfort. Though in
the snowbound countryside, angels might be singing about glory and such things, the
first Christmas was deprived of any grander. There was only the absolute happiness
and love in a small plain family of three; humble, modest underprivileged, and yet
holy.
The spirit of Christmas was nothing but a deep and extensive love. On this day
the best loves ones are the wealthiest. The love, which Jesus received from his mother
and father, passed through the generations, and spread. Since Christians believe that
they are all sons and daughters of the same great God, they are bound in unity and
love. And since love moves people to accept each other, and to do good and kind
deeds, this love now widens to include every person on Earth, poor, rich, Christian
and non-Christian.
Even the poorest may enjoy Christmas better than the wealthy; much like Bob
Cratchits understood Christmas better than Scrooge did. Christmas is spiritual. It is a
day that everybody may enjoy. What matters at Christmas is happiness, and happiness,
as we all know, is not measured in money. This, then, is the deeper meaning of
Christmas that Scrooge discovered: a simple knowledge that some people seem to
process from birth, and some may have to work through a lifetime of hardships to
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attain. And that is the spirit kept and treasured in A Christmas Carol, the old and
famous book. What Scrooge had learnt, from the Ghosts of Christmasses Past, Present
and Yet to Come, has passed on to the readers who enjoy this story so well: pity of the
fortunate towards the less fortunate, gentleness, empathy.
In this day in winter, the rich will not hesitate to give somewhat to the poor, just
as the converted Scrooge would willingly give great sums of money to help Bob’s
family live in better comfort. Passing strangers may greet each other on the streets
with a ‘Merry Christmas’. Family members drop their misunderstandings and quarrels
to embrace.
On the day of Christmas, all humanity celebrate. Conflict shrinks, and peace
arises to take over.
Hymns and carols are sung, entrancing and cheerful. The aroma of cooking food
wafts through the cold air. On the icy streets adults greet each other and knock on the
doors of cherished friends and family; and the stars shine down with the same intense
and clear light they shredded on a newborn child surrounded by farm animals, more
than two millenniums ago.
In school halls, children are acting out the Nativity on stage; or it may even be A
Christmas Carol that they are performing. Old Scrooge may be just coming out from
the backstage with his dirty white beard and his patched overcoat; and the eyes of the
actor, quite perceptible to the excited audience, may betray a twinkle of Christmas joy.
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