Lucy Maud Montgomery may be more well-known for the emotion and adventure of “Anne of Green Gables.” However, the Canadian author conjured up quite the Christmas tale in “Christmas at Red Butte.” While it does follow the template of a “sacrifice” story like O. Henry’s “The Gift of The Magi,” what holds it together is the human heart that seems to keep its optimistic and steady drumbeat toward Christmas. The setting is Saskatchewan, but it could easily be the mountainous American West or even Northern California (there is a mention of “Klondike Fever.”) No spoilers here. The orphan girl/caretaker Theodora, in a true feat of strength, makes the sacrifice. Written in 1909, Montgomery eloquently throws back to the details of the rugged 1890s. Her most skillful writing is uncovering hardship without arousing sympathy or implying that this frontier family has already had it much harder than most. Prairie life is simple, as are the gifts the children also wish for. When the crops die and the old colt sells for less than they thought it would, the flickering flame somehow manages to stay alive.
While some may criticize “coincidence,” Montgomery is devoted to realism and enforcing the hard moral lessons of life before technology and the move to the cities. Stay for all the old customs like the children writing letters to Santa and throwing them up the chimney or the myriad ways they think St. Nick may not visit. The logic at work here is not avarice, it is enough to make you wish the whole sleigh full of gifts could land in this rural homestead.
The next minute she was hurrying along the trail in the moonlight. The great dazzling prairie was around her, the mystery and splendour of the northern night all about her. It was very calm and cold.”
Russian author Fyodor Dostoevsky is renowned for his mammoth novels of exploration of philosophy, societal ills, and politics. Given the heft of "Crime and Punishment" or even "The Idiot," you might think that a Christmas story from the literary giant would be just as serious. "The Beggar Boy at Christ's Christmas Tree" or "The Heavenly Christmas Tree" is an almost Dickensian slice of the side of the holiday where those who have so little are too often ignored and overlooked.
Based on an actual incident that Dostoevsky supposedly saw with his daughter Aimee, Fyodor came into contact with a "beggar boy" multiple times leading us to believe it may have melted the proverbial ice around his heart. What stands out the most about the tale is Dostoevsky's either childlike/dreamlike retelling of the events. When read aloud, the story is a breathless series of mostly concise declarative sentences. The rhythm of the prose does the most to imply the desperation and dwindling hope in this boy who is "six years or younger."
As Dostoevsky describes his life of peril, there is a hidden beauty in horses breathing in the cold air and the streets teeming with people. For all his mercy on the poor child, next the shutters close and one light for the whole street. With his frozen digits, shivering in his nightshirt, the boy has woken up to a world of plenty where he has none. He is only left to admire the parties in the warm buildings through the chilly panes of glass. Even the coin that is dropped into his fragile hand by a passerby, cannot be held and is lost.
To his credit, as Dostoevsky writes about what the little boy sees, they are all images of other children dressed "in their best clothes" and "eating and drinking." These visions are not idealized, they are reported in an almost factual manner and we learn that the boy is taken with the joy of it all no matter how grim his present life is. He is the victim of childhood mayhem. Struck on the head. His hat was stolen. In a daze, he stumbles into a yard and lays down beside a woodpile. This is a nightmare life for the beggar boy, with a lesson from Dostoevsky tied up within.
"Come to my Christmas tree, little one," a soft voice suddenly whispered over his head.
Like Montgomery's majesty of the icy prairie and Dostoevsky's frozen allure of the quaint small town, Christmas is a time to enjoy the change in scenery and the weather. In August 1918, Rockwell Kent and his young son settled in a cabin near Seward, Alaska. Amid the snow-capped mountains, giant glaciers, and tall, thin trees, Kent settled into Seward before the salmon run of the Twenties made it a fishing industry hub and one of a handful of "home rule" cities on the map.
Kent wanted to draw inspiration from nature in his drawing and artwork and shed worldly distractions to spend more time with his son. A Transcendentalist like Thoreau and Emerson, Kent thought nature and the wild had more to teach him than the big city. Inspired by "Walden," Kent's writing is much like his landscape art. The prose of "Wilderness: A Journal of Quiet Adventure in Alaska" is essentially journal entries, but it is fascinating to hear Kent continually mention that he is dissatisfied with his renderings - not due to his skill or enthusiasm, but a beauty that almost could not be captured.
As the pair grow used to the rugged environs, Christmas nears, and customs are revived and adapted for the season. The "Christmas" chapter is full of surprises. December in Alaska sounds a little like December in Mississippi. "A Christmas without snow?" Kent posits, and then recants the day's events to help a friend save his ice fishing harvest from deep beneath the precarious sheet of ice on top. Like all wilderness writing, the labor and its division is often a humbling recitation of tasks. The days of rain make it hard to fetch pails of water for the cabin, but easier to wash clothes and let them hang up inside to dry. After all of this seemingly ordinary struggle, Kent puts his son to bed and draws two of his best drawings yet Here in a quest for the "snow-covered mountains" of his dreams, Kent is discovering that life itself is the best teacher. When he returns to the city in March 1919, Kent will enjoy his most prosperous years becoming one of the most famous graphic artists of all time.
The night is beautiful beyond thought. All the bay is flooded with moonlight and in that pale glow, the snowy mountains appear whiter than snow itself.....Fox Island will soon become in our memories like a dream or vision, a remote experience too wonderful...to be remembered or believed in as a real experience in life. It was for us life as it should be, serene and wholesome.
In close, we wish you and yours the merriest of Christmases, holidays and a joyous New Year. Personally, I am thankful for the support from the staff, especially Sandra and Christina. Thank you for reading along with us in 2023.
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Mik Davis is the record store manager at T-Bones Records & Cafe in Hattiesburg.
