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A Christmas Carol Allegorical Character
Transcript of A Christmas Carol Allegorical Character
The Ghost of Christmas Present
The Ghost of Christmas Present relates to Charles Dickens as the both of them were optomistic. Charles Dickens strived for a place at the top and worked hard though he hadn't recieved a formal education and his father had been incarcerated. He had been working in a blacking factory, pasting lables onto bottles for an unreasonable amount of hours until his father's debts had been paid, which stunted his education, but not his brilliant imagination.
The Cratchit Family relates to Charles Dickens's life because they were poor as Dickens was early in his life. When Dickens's father went to debtors' prison, their family had to move to London to find work. While his father was in prison, Dickens worked in a factory putting lables on bottles of shoe blackner to support his family. Despite this, Charles remained optimistic and warmhearted, like how the Cratchit's were. After his father's realese, Dickens worked for a newspaper, and wrote during the night. His writing became popular despite his lack of education.
Marley's Ghost, while not relating directly to Charles, does relate to his early life. His father went to a prison for those who were in debt when Charles was twelve. Charles went to visit him every Sunday. It is highly probable that his father spoke often of sorrow and anger, the latter of which directed towards himself. He would have apologized profously for "failing" his family. This anger, this remorse, are the very feelings that the spectre of Jacob Marley represents in human life.
A Christmas Carol Allegorical Characters
By Trieste Cogar, Katie Chohan, and Samantha Wilson
Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.
"`But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,' faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.
`Business!' cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. `Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!'"
"'At this time of the rolling year,' the spectre said `I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode! Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!'"
"Then Bob proposed:
"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us."
Which all the family re-echoed.
"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all."
`Is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle from your torch.' asked Scrooge.
`There is. My own.'
`Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day.' asked Scrooge.
`To any kindly given. To a poor one most.'
`Why to a poor one most.' asked Scrooge.
`Because it needs it most.'
But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls
and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a
perfect grove; ...bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring
up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had
never known in Scrooge's time, or Marley's, ...Heaped up on the floor, to form
a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn,
great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages,
mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears,
immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that
made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy
state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to
see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's
horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge,...
Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.
Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
`Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed,' cried the phantom, `not to know, that ages of incessant labour, by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed. Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness. Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused! Yet such was I! Oh! such was I!'
"There was nothing of high mark in this. They were not a handsome family; they were not well dressed; their shoes were far from being water-proof; their clothes were scanty..."
``As good as gold,'' said Bob, ``and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much... he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see.''
Bob's voice was tremulous when he told them this, and trembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was growing strong and hearty."
They were a boy and girl...Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing...
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.
``Spirit! are they yours?'' Scrooge could say no more.
``They are Man's,'' said the Spirit, looking down upon them. ``And they cling to me... This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both... but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom... Deny it!'' cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. ``Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse! And bide the end!