Without any shadow of doubt my favourite Christmas poem is John Betjeman’s great work “Christmas”. I have read this to children and practised it with them for school Christmas Carol Concerts more times than I care to remember and each time I read its words I am in awe of the evocative scenes that Betjeman conjures up and the gently chiding nudges that he uses to point us to the real and greater message of the festival.
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.
The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say,
‘The church looks nice’ on Christmas Day.
Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says ‘Merry Christmas to you all’.
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children’s hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say ‘Come!’
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,
A Baby in an ox’s stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?
And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,
No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.
I often think, at this time of year, as we scurry around buying and wrapping presents of the words of the penultimate verse:
And is it true ? For if it is,No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,
Rightly or wrongly Christmas always has been, is, and it seems
increasingly becomes, a time of buying “sweet
and silly Christmas things”. In recent years, however, it seems to me that “sweet and silly Christmas things” have become a self indulgent gorging and fulfilling
of our every whim, fancy and expectation as we trawl the shopping malls and
exhaust our credit cards on line. The way in which our modern society gorges
upon the Christmas buying spree becomes with each year that passes ever more
difficult to comprehend. I know that as my own grandchildren rip off the paper
around their presents on Christmas morning I will sit there and sadly fear that
as each gift is ripped open it will be forgotten as quickly as it was squealed
at. Increasingly, it seems to me, Christmas stockings are filled with Christmas
must haves - immediately obsolete technology or the latest fashion accessory which will soon fall out of favour when the next computer gimmick or TV chef comes along to influence the mindless.Christmas is increasingly the vehicle by which you can gain domestic heaven and social acceptability at your dining table or street credibility amongst your peers by ensuring that you ask for the latest craze to be included in your Christmas stocking! I sadly look at the gifts waiting to be wrapped in
pretty Christmas paper and think not about the cost but how long will they find
favour before they are left forgotten, battery discharged in the corner of the
playroom or sitting long unopened on the kitchen cookery book shelves as some other fashion takes their place. Last night I watched adverts on the TV telling me that I should purchase or request the "perfect gift" - a Sat Nav at only £79, a computer tablet at only £159. This sort of money can feed a family for a week or two even in this country and in some foreign lands it will feed them for a year. But, these "perfect gifts" will, I suspect, fall out of
favour as the orgy of spending moves on and Christmas jollity morphs into the New Year sales. In this week’s
Guardian writer John Harris comments upon “the sticky
chicken lollipops on sale at Marks & Spencer - £14 for a box
complete with a Japanese condiment sweet soy, mirin and ginger
glaze". He goes on to mention the hi tech must haves like iPads
and PS4s and rightly suggests in order to provide these Christmas
fripperies “the ghoul of debt is lurking”. All this is what our society has
become as we are brainwashed and happily accept the notion of what it
is to be a real 21st century family surrounded by our designer house
and our wealth of material things – and, as each year passes Christmas takes this materialism to its
extreme.
 |
| From this week's Guardian |
It certainly seems to have moved a long way since the kings and the shepherds took their gifts to a stable in a far off town!
A few
months ago I read a wonderful book by American philosopher Michael Sandel. The
book, “What Money Can’t Buy” explores
some of the moral and ethical issues surrounding how we spend money and what
things, if there be any, should not be
“buyable”. In one section Sandel considers the issue of gifts. I must here
declare an interest; I have long railed against the notion of Christmas gift
lists – these were things unknown to me until I married. When I met my wife’s
family I soon realised that it was the norm. One provided a list of items that
you wanted for Christmas or one's birthday or Father's Day and people would say – “Yes, I’ll buy you that”. In the years since I know that this sort
of thing has become endemic and it is clearly an efficient practice – it saves
the buyer having to think too hard about what to buy someone, hopefully the
gift will be well received by the recipient – it is after all what he or she
has asked for. In harsh economic terms it makes sense is not wasting money on an item
that might never be used. But, no matter how hard I try, deep down I am
uncomfortable with it. For me there seems something wrong, it detracts from
what I perceive should be an important element of a gift, namely that it is the
result of thought on the part of the giver and as such is a two way process. It
gives pleasure to the receiver for he has got a
gift and pleasure to the giver for they have identified what pleases the
receiver. But, back to Sandel’s book – it clarified it all for me. He points
out that to the economist the notion of a “gift” is a bit of an anathema – it
fulfils no economic function. So if you are to make the best economic sense it
is better to give the person money in order that they can buy exactly what they
want – then the money is not wasted as it might be if you buy a present which
is not exactly what the recipient desires and therefore one has, to a degree,
wasted one’s money. But this, suggests Sandel, misses
the point. The very act of giving a gift to someone is a very personal thing –
it is a sign of your affection and desire to please that person – as the old
saying goes “It’s the thought that
matters” . Sandel argues: “.....a
good gift not only aims to please, in the sense of satisfying the consumer
preferences of the recipient. It also engages and connects with the recipient,
in a way that reflects a certain intimacy [which was after all the reason
for you buying the gift in the first place]. This is why thoughtfulness matters”. Sandel goes on by suggesting
that friendship or intimacy – the basis upon which the gift was given - are
about more than simply being useful or economical which is what is implicit in simply giving someone the money or
buying them what they ask for. To do that is just simply to provide a utility -
I will buy this for you because you need it.
 |
| And also from the Guardian |
Taking
that to its logical extreme I might give my wife a new set of
tyres for her car this Christmas. Since I know that she will need some in the
near future surely she would appreciate this? Sadly, if she found four tyres under the tree on Christmas morning I suspect things would be chilly in our house for some little time! In
fact I remember many years ago, my father on law when asked what he wanted for
Christmas asked for a bag of compost for his garden (he was keen gardener) – this
caused great consternation amongst his daughters who did not see this as a
“proper gift”. They wanted to buy him something “nice” something that he might
not otherwise buy himself – in Betjeman’s words a “sweet
and silly Christmas thing”. My wife and her sister’s discomfort at being
asked to buy a bag of compost suggests to me that they understood that there is
something “extra” to gift giving other than simply satisfying a utilitarian or
economic “want”. There is a dimension that involves the giver and his or her
feelings towards the recipient and those feelings in turn are linked with the
desire of the giver to find something that “speaks” to the recipient over and
above the ordinary utilitarian function. Christmas gift lists or simply giving the money detract in some way from that essential
nature of gift giving and importantly, they also remove an essential ingredient
as far as the giver is concerned. If I simply buy what the recipient has asked
for or give him/her the money then as the giver I am being denied a basic pleasure
of gift buying. The old saying that it is “the
thought that counts” is never more
true. As the giver, if I simply buy what I have
been asked to buy or give the person some money then I have not given it any
thought whatsoever. I have not been allowed use my knowledge of that person and
what I believe are their preferences, I have not been able to express my
particular feelings or thanks by giving something that I feel is quite
appropriate for the person or the situation. And this in turn means that I have not had the pleasure of knowing that the recipient appreciated my skill and thought in understanding what would please them. Instead I am simply buying
something much as I might buy a bottle of sauce from the supermarket – it is a
purely utilitarian action with little emotional involvement whatsoever. And then, nonsensically, we
complete this utilitarian or economic exercise by wrapping our gifts in ever
more decorative and flamboyant wrapping papers, with false bows, tinsel, tassels,
silver bells and the rest. I suppose to make what is inside (which is usually
known anyway since it has been asked for!) more seductive, mysterious and
appealing – Betjeman’s “tissued
fripperies” made real! I don’t expect the shepherds and the wise men
bothered too much with that. I don't remember the bit on the Bible that says Mary exclaimed delight at the beautiful wrapping paper and bows and baubles, and, in any case I’m sure that Mary didn’t notice the lack of wrapping paper when they
passed over their mysterious and deeply thought out offerings!
Of course, giving a gift based on utilitarian or economic bases is
sometimes very understandable and will undoubtedly be much appreciated by the
recipient – for example, if one lives a long way from the recipient it may be
far better just to send the money. Equally, a gift given with good intent may
be entirely useless to the recipient and might easily be thrown away unused. I
know that my mother in law occasionally incurred the wrath of her daughters because she
would often after Christmas take gifts she had been given given back to the shop from where they had been
purchased and “get her money back”. That might sound unacceptable - certainly it infuriated my wife and her sister - but as Sandel suggests it would make absolute sense to the economist for it is making best economic use of the item! In short the the whole area of
gift giving is not so simple as it would appear!
The
potential for “abuse” in gift giving is well illustrated by Michael Sandel when
he describes a wonderful example of the ultimate utilitarian present scenario.
When I read it, I thought this is what we will soon become as we hurtle towards
gift giving becoming an economic activity rather than an intimate reflection of
one’s esteem and affection for another. Sandel tells us of “….a recently patented system for electronic regifting. An article in
The New York Times describes it as follows: Suppose your aunt gives you a
fruitcake for Christmas. The fruitcake company sends you an email informing you
of the thoughtful gift and giving you the option of accepting delivery, exchanging
it for something else, or sending the fruitcake to an unsuspecting person on
your gift list. Since the transaction takes place online, you don’t have to
bother repacking the item and taking it to the post office. If you opt for
regifting, the new recipient is offered the same options. So it’s possible that
the unwanted fruitcake could ricochet its way indefinitely through cyberspace.”
Given that scenario then I can’t not
believe that we are losing our way a little with our Christmas gifts. Of course, perhaps we should give thanks that this “regifting service” was not available in Bethlehem 2000 years ago – it
could have completely altered the whole of the last 2000 years if Mary had
simply “regifted” the gold, frankincense and myrrh!
 |
| John Betjeman |
“It’s the thought that counts”. I thought of this in relation to my own childhood. I was
lucky, although my parents were not well off, I know that they scrimped and
saved to ensure that on Christmas morning I had plenty of presents to open. I
can still remember many of them – indeed, I have occasionally seen some of them
on TV programmes like the Antiques Road Show! One, however, stands out above
all others in my memory. I was, I suppose, about 7 or 8 at the time and
although I still believed in Santa I knew that this gift was coming. I knew that
Santa hadn’t magically worked out what I wanted because for weeks before
Christmas I was aware that it was being made. In my Dad’s little shed in the
back yard he and his friend Alf worked for many nights to make me a toy fort.
Alf was a lorry driver like my Dad but a skilled woodworker, too, and he, with
Dad’s help made the fort out of old bits of wood. I never saw it until
Christmas morning but I knew it was being made. When I came downstairs on
Christmas morning the fort was there, already erected, painted a kind of grey
stony camouflage colour, complete with a little home made paper flag on its highest turret and standing around its walls and in its keep were my
tin soldiers – with a few new ones added. In those days tin soldiers broke
notoriously easily and it always seemed to be the feet that broke off so they
couldn’t stand up. On that Christmas morning I found that all my “wounded”
soldiers had been repaired and each had a shiny soldered base to ensure that
they stood up perfectly. I knew this was not a shop bought fort, that it was
homemade – indeed when I looked at the bottom of the fort where it was
unpainted I recognised the wood as being from my Dad’s shed, it still had
“English Electric Co. Preston” stencilled in yellow letters on the bottom! My
Dad had obviously “borrowed” some wood from his workplace! But that didn’t detract one little bit – I
was thrilled with it. I played and played with that fort and even when I became
a teenager it still stood in the little curtained off alcove in my bedroom with
the soldiers standing on its walls and pointing their guns and bows and arrows
through its crenellations. I’m sure that my mother and dad probably wished that
they could have afforded to give me a flash shop bought toy fortress and new
tin soldiers, but equally I think they might have got quite a buzz out of
seeing how much I loved it – and certainly, I’m sure, Dad and Alf enjoyed those
nights swearing and cursing as they made it in the little shed lit only by a
paraffin storm lamp. It was, indeed, the thought that counted!
And finally, I am reminded of the
American writer William Sydney Porter, more famously known as O. Henry, who wrote
a wonderful, magical tale of Christmas giving which puts it all into
perspective and perhaps speaks more than any other of the personal nature of
gifts and the importance of thought in the process. In O.Henry’s “The Gift of the Magi” Jim and his wife,
Della, are a young couple living in a modest New York flat. They are not
well off and each has only one possession in which they take pride: Della's
beautiful long, flowing hair, almost to her knees and Jim's cheap but much
treasured shiny gold watch, which had once belonged to
his father and grandfather. Christmas, they knew, would be a
poor affair but they were determined to make the best of it.
On Christmas Eve, with only
$1.87 in her purse, and desperate to find a gift for Jim, Della goes shopping.
She can find nothing for $1.87 but then she sees a sign in a wig makers – hair
wanted! She sells her hair for $20 and
leaves the wig makers shorn of her lovely locks – sold to make wigs for the
rich ladies of New York. She scours the shops and eventually finds
a splendid watch chain for Jim – an ideal gift for $21 the perfect gift
to enhance Jim’s much loved watch.
Delighted, she runs home and begins to prepare their humble dinner. She
has just 87 cents left in her purse.
When Jim comes home after work,
he looks at Della’s shorn head but is too polite to
comment. Della at last admits to Jim that she sold her hair to buy him his
present. Jim, a tear in his eye gives Della her present – an assortment of
expensive hair accessories and especially a lovely pearl handled comb for
holding long hair in place but completely useless now that her hair is so short. Della
expresses delight and tells Jim not to worry – her hair will grow again. She
hands Jim the watch chain that she has
bought for him. Another tear runs down Jim’s face as he sadly confesses to
Della that he has sold his treasured watch to get the money to buy her the combs. Jim
and Della are now left with gifts that neither can use, but they realise how
far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, how priceless their love really is – and how
the symbolism of their Christmas gifts are far more important than their
economic or utilitarian value.
 |
| A Hollywood version of O. Henry's tale |
The innocence of O.Henry’s tale, of Betjeman’s poem, and, indeed, of my
home made fort is a long, long way from
the Christmas present stampede and gorging of today. Each speaks of a different
time and a time when thought seemed to govern our affairs and our giving of
gifts. Today’s Christmas gift giving is increasingly to do
with reflecting and satisfying personal desires as expressed in the Christmas gift list, the latest fashion trend and commercial advertising
campaigns. And these in turn are all wrapped up in the latest supermarket or on line offer. Less and less it seems we give gifts based upon our thoughts, feelings and intimate insights
for that person. Today’s Christmas gift giving is a mercenary affair both in
the amounts spent and the implicit expectations of utilitarian value that is
increasingly demanded by the receiver – “Oh,
give me the money then I can buy what I want”. And we wrap it all up false
bows and tinsel to make the whole thing more appealing so that the receiver can express delight and surprise when they see the gift, although they know full well what is beneath the wrapping! Can there be a sadder
misrepresentation of the Christmas message. Is this what happened in Bethlehem
on the first Christmas – I suspect not or Christianity would never have got off
the ground! Christmas gift giving today is far removed from Betjeman’s “hideous tie so kindly meant” or, as I
could easily substitute, a “home made fort
with repaired tin soldiers”. But it
is within these simpler but more sincere things that the very essence Christmas
resides.
