A Christmas Carol

## Overview

(*Submitted by Four-Eyes*)

Welcome to the latest holiday installment of "The Dinkley Files," where the lines between the known and the unknown are not just blurred but thoroughly crossed. I'm Velma Dinkley, your guide into the enigmatic world of the supernatural. Today, we step into the chilling yet heartwarming realm of Charles Dickens' classic, "A Christmas Carol." But this isn't just another retelling of the iconic tale; no, dear readers, we're diving into the true story behind the story. As an occult scholar and a member of the renowned Mystery Incorporated, I've come across fascinating and sometimes frightening truths behind many a legend. "A Christmas Carol" is no exception. Today's journey explores the paranormal events that inspired this timeless tale. So, grab a cup of hot cocoa, wrap yourself in a cozy blanket, and prepare to uncover the ghostly truths behind Ebenezer Scrooge's transformative night.

First, let's cover the basics for those heathens who have never enjoyed the literary classic or even seen one of its many cinematic adaptations (personally, I've always been a fan of the 1951 version, starring Matt Hagen as Ebenezer Scrooge — man, he really was a transformative artist). "A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas," more popularly known as Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." This novella, a cornerstone of holiday literature, was first published in London by Chapman & Hall in 1843, with illustrations by John Leech. It tells the tale of Ebenezer Scrooge, an elderly miser haunted by the ghost of Jacob Marley, his former business partner, and spirits representing Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. These supernatural visitations lead Scrooge on a journey of self-reflection, transforming him into a kinder, more compassionate person.

Dickens crafted this story during British cultural introspection, where old and new Christmas traditions were embraced and redefined. This includes the joyous singing of carols and the burgeoning customs of exchanging cards and decorating Christmas trees. Dickens' experiences and the festive tales of authors like Washington Irving and Douglas Jerrold influenced his writing. Before penning this novella, Dickens had explored the holiday theme in three other stories. His visit to the Field Lane Ragged School, which served London's impoverished children, was a critical inspiration. The story's central themes — the plight of the poor and the moral redemption of a self-centered man — resonate deeply. Scholars debate whether the story is purely secular or serves as a Christian allegory.

When "A Christmas Carol" was published on December 19, it captured the public's imagination, selling out by Christmas Eve. By the end of 1844, it had seen thirteen editions. Although Dickens' profits were diminished due to unauthorized copies and ensuing legal battles, the novella's impact was profound and lasting. Following the success of this story, Dickens penned four more Christmas tales and, starting in 1849, performed public readings of "A Christmas Carol," which continued until the year of his death in 1870. Remarkably, the novella has always been in print, translated into multiple languages, and adapted into various forms, including film, stage, and opera.

The tale begins in the cold, foggy streets of Victorian London, where we meet Ebenezer Scrooge, a miserly old man with a heart as frosty as the winter air. Scrooge is a businessman, but his actual business is hoarding wealth and despising joy, particularly the joy of Christmas. His miserly ways are immediately evident in his interactions with his cheerful clerk, Bob Cratchit, and his genial nephew, Fred.

On Christmas Eve, after dismissing the holiday as 'humbug,' Scrooge is visited by the ghost of his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley. Marley, bound in chains created by his own greed, warns Scrooge of the dire consequences of his avarice. He tells Scrooge that he will be visited by three spirits, each offering a chance at redemption.

First comes the Ghost of Christmas Past, a spectral figure showing Scrooge scenes from his past. These memories reveal Scrooge's gradual transformation from a young, innocent boy to a bitter and greedy man. This journey through his former life exposes lost loves and opportunities, particularly his relationship with Belle, his former fiancée.

Next, the Ghost of Christmas Present arrives, a jovial giant who shows Scrooge the current Christmas celebrations. They witness the modest yet heartwarming Christmas of the Cratchit family, where Scrooge learns of Tiny Tim, Bob's frail son, whose health is as precarious as his family's finances. Scrooge begins to feel a pang of empathy, a sentiment long buried under his callous exterior.

The final spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, is a silent, grim reaper-like figure. This ghost presents a future where Scrooge's death is met with indifference, and Tiny Tim has succumbed to his illness. This bleak outlook, where Scrooge's legacy is one of disdain and sorrow, profoundly shakes him.

Awakening on Christmas morning, Scrooge is a changed man. The cold-hearted miser is replaced by a benevolent figure brimming with the Christmas spirit. He anonymously sends a large turkey to the Cratchit household and joins his nephew Fred for Christmas dinner. Scrooge also increases Bob Cratchit's salary and becomes a second father to Tiny Tim, who, in this new future, does not die.

"A Christmas Carol" concludes with Scrooge's moral and emotional rebirth. He becomes a symbol of generosity and kindness, embodying the true spirit of Christmas. This transformation is not just personal; it affects those around him, spreading joy and hope. So, "A Christmas Carol" is not just a holiday ghost story; it encapsulates the early Victorian revival of Christmas traditions. Dickens' narrative influenced the modern Western Christmas celebration, promoting family unity, festive food and drink, dancing, games, and a spirit of generous goodwill. It's a story that transcends its era, reminding us of the enduring power of transformation and the heart of the holiday spirit.

But here's the rub. Charles Dickens may not have known it, but his immortal tale struck such a chord with readers because it was true. It actually happened, except it didn't happen in our world. It happened in a place known as the Homelands, the lands of origin for the Fables. If you need to familiarize yourself with the concept of Fables as a race of beings, check out our previous entry on the subject. If I haven't lost you yet, let's proceed with the true story of Ebenezer Scrooge's transformation.

Our tale actually begins long before the miser Scrooge meets a parade of specters. It goes back, at least, to the days of Ancient Rome. I know, I know. I said the tale happened in the Homelands, but bear with me. In Ancient Rome's Saturnalia, there was the practice of naming the mock king, or the Lord of Misrule. Usually, a commoner, often a slave, drunk, or disabled person, would be appointed to fill the role and enjoy the luxuries of a king for the remainder of the festival.

While Romans would elevate such a person to this station as they went on through the night, drinking and laughing at the absurdity of seeing such an ordinary man enjoying the luxuries of a king, their gods would play a game themselves. Apparently, Jupiter (Zeus), Neptune (Poseidon), and Pluto (Hades) were none too happy about this grand festival being done in the name of their father, Saturn (Kronos). So, every year this festival persisted, the gods would choose a member of the Roman elite, whether a wicked senator, a greedy merchant, a corrupt praetorian guard, or even a deviant emperor, and they would pay them a visit.

The visit aimed to see if they could break the Roman. First, they would send a harbinger to tell the intended of what would soon occur. This was done to fulfill a requirement of the Axiom when gods played these sorts of games on mortals. There had to be a "Declaration of Hostile Intent." So, Mercury (Hermes) would usually be dispatched to carry out this task. Sometimes, it was done by other gods or goddesses, such as Venus (Aphrodite), Minerva (Athena), Cupid (Eros), or Somnus (Hypnos).

Once the message was made clear, the torment would begin. It would start with Neptune. He would take the chosen victim and ritualistically drown them, repeatedly, causing their entire life to flash before their eyes. He did not yield; their cries and protests meant little to the god. As he carried out this torture, he would call upon them to tell him when they lost their way, inquire if they knew how many people their actions had harmed, and prompt them to change their lives before it was too late.

Then, when he was done, Neptune would simply release his victim and make his exit, leaving the tortured Roman dripping wet and gasping for air. Before they could flee or call for help, Jupiter greeted them. Playing good cop to Neptune's bad cop, Jupiter would offer the Roman wine and a lavish meal. Despite their reservations post-drowning, Jupiter's charisma was usually so potent as to quickly draw the elite Romans into the invitation.

After plying their inhibitions and loosening their lips with deceptively potent wine, Jupiter would get the mortal to admit their faults and shortcomings — assuming they could even recognize such. Jupiter would then take the mortal on a walk, using magic to conceal the god and mortal from the attention of others' notice. During this trek, Jupiter would use magic to spark those around them to gossip about the target, allowing the victim to learn what their friends, family, and strangers honestly thought about them when they were not around.

After the walk, Jupiter would return the inebriated Roman to their home. Jupiter would bid farewell, and the dark Pluto would be waiting, adorned in the black robes of mourning. It was common for the drunk mortal to ask the god why he was dressed for a funeral, to which Pluto would smirk and inform the Roman that it was their own funeral that the pair would be attending. Then, as the intent of that cryptic message sank in, Pluto would lunge forward and strike the Roman, using his powers over the dead and spirits to sever the soul from the body and drag the Roman's soul with him to the Underworld.

After giving the Roman a taste of death, enduring the touch of desperate shades begging for ferry fare or the hot breath of Cerberus breathing down the frightened victim's neck, Pluto would wave Charon away and take his prisoner on a boat ride. The usually eloquent Hades said little to nothing for the entirety of the ferry ride, allowing the Underworld to talk for him.

Once they reached Tartarus, Pluto would wrestle his kidnapped soul off the ferry, dragging them kicking and screaming into his infamous prison, where he would heartlessly throw them into a waiting cage before he, too, would join them inside. When Atlas caused the cage to plummet into Oblivion below, the faint residual essence of decay that permeated the eternally dying mind of Ouranos flooded into the cage, causing the Roman to hallucinate and experience their greatest fears.

With Pluto present, the god could use his mastery over death to shape the visions, giving the Roman a handcrafted vision of a future after their death, seeing how their legacy would be viewed if they never reformed. Then, once the Roman endured everything Pluto had to show, the god would signal Atlas to bring the cage back up. With his torture concluded, the god would return the mortal to their body.

When the mortal awakened, they usually found themselves in bed, leaving them to wonder if the haunting experience had happened or simply been a vivid, horrible dream. The gods would then convene to compare stories and laugh at the mortal's expense over a glass of Ambrosia somewhere nearby, waiting to see how the mortal would react.

This ritual often ended with the mortal breaking down and running through the streets of Rome like a madman that bystanders and witnesses would ascribe to too much Saturnalia drinking the night before. However, as the gods perfected their torture over the years, they noticed an interesting trend. The mortals became more likely to undergo a positive transformation each year: the greedy becoming charitable, the cruel becoming just, and the wicked becoming devout.

Of course, Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto weren't keen on this development. They began this ritual to punish, not to rehabilitate. So, elder gods began to pull out from the practice, often sending a proxy in their stead to allow any brother still wishing to engage in the tradition. The first to withdraw was likely Jupiter, who sent Bacchus (Dionysus) to fulfill his role in the tradition. Apollo and/or Diana (Artemis) would fulfill Neptune's role, and Proserpina (Persephone) would take over for Pluto. Each of these replacements brought some tweaks to the formula, and all were more interested in the rehabilitative outcome than simple torture.

Until the collapse of Hellenistic religion in Rome, the Saturnalia ritual of Metamorphosis would continue. As it evolved, the cast would rotate. Toward the final days of the Roman Empire, the most powerful gods were too busy trying to prevent the end of their worship to focus on one single Roman, so the tradition was passed on to lesser gods. Aquilo (Boreas) stepped into the role of the Second Visitor for Bacchus. When the Olympians left Earth, it was left to the wind god to keep the tradition alive.

If you're not up to date on the impact that Aquilo would have on the world post-Olympian departure, check out the entry we did on Christmas. A quick summary for those unaware is that the Roman God of the North Wind stayed behind on Earth. The god would assume the identity of a Christian bishop (Saint Nicholas) and a Norse god (Njord) before reinventing himself as the jolly ol' fat man in red, Santa Claus.

But, before Aquilo/Boreas/Nicholas/Njord became Santa, he would spend one night every year as the Second Visitor of the Saturnalia festival. He recruited various others to aid him in keeping this tradition alive. When he went north, he introduced this tradition to the Aesir, recruiting the likes of Loki and Odin to assist him, making it an annual Yule tradition.

When the god departed from Aesir and Vanir, taking on the mantle of Santa Claus, he considered abandoning this tradition altogether as it had become too difficult to recruit powerful beings to carry out the required roles. That is when Death came for Santa Claus.

No, overindulgence in milk and cookies hadn't put Santa in an early grave. I mean that Death of the Endless paid a visit to the god at his new residence at the North Pole. The Endless told Santa that the Sheeda had ravaged the Homelands. Having spent some time there, Santa was deeply affected by this news and wanted to know what could be done to aid the Fables. Death feared that there was little hope for Europa, but maybe they could bring some comfort to Albion, which had yet to be touched by the Sheeda in this invasion.

I suppose I should mention that some occult scholars believe that Santa wasn't too interested in the fate of the Fables and Death; instead, she got him to agree to her plan by enticing him with inspiring a powerful Christmas story that would promote his new holiday, rocketing it into prominence and thus boosting the holiday's significance. I don't believe that, as everything I know about Santa suggests that he is a legitimately kind and generous deity. Still, I'll mention it here so you, the reader, can make your own determinations.

So, what was Death's plan exactly? Well, six years prior, she had met an interesting member of the departed. Jacob Marley was an exceptionally wealthy old man from Londontown, Albion (the Homelands' version of our London, England). As it had so happened, Marley was unable to fully embrace Death due to the nature of how he had acquired his wealth. Apparently, Marley had made some deal with a witch that had made him obscenely wealthy but at the cost of selling his soul. However, the witch had set sail for Americana and had run afoul of the Colonial Lodge of True Humanity and got herself burned at a stake in a place called Salem. So, without the witch to claim Marley's soul but his curse still intact, his spirit was bound to his wealth.

Death devised a loophole to end Marley's suffering. If his wealth should be used benevolently, it would cease to become wealth, as laid out in the infernal contract Marley had signed and thus would relinquish its hold on Marley. However, Marley's fortune was left in the hands of his business partner, Ebenezer Scrooge, who was even less generous and more crotchety than Marley. Scrooge had doubled Marley's fortune with his heartless and unsympathetic business acumen applied in just six years.

So, that's where Death needed Santa. She wanted to use the power of the Metamorphosis ritual to help Scrooge see the error of his ways and inspire him to use his wealth to help his fellow Londontowners prosper rather than simply hoarding the wealth for himself. This would free Marley's trapped spirit from his curse and help Albion be better prepared should the Sheeda turn their attention to the island empire.
Santa agreed to this and named Death the "Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come" (formerly, the Third Visitor of Saturnalia - the role initially carried out by Pluto/Hades). I should mention here that the word "ghost" has yet to fully come to mean what we use it for nowadays. Its origin comes from the Germanic and Old English word "gāst," meaning "spirit, soul, entity." However, that's not to say that they didn't employ what we would call a ghost in their plot, as it was Death's idea to use the ghost of Jacob Marley to fill the role of the harbinger, acting as the herald to introduce Scrooge to the sort of unforgettable night he was about to experience.

With Santa embracing the role of the hedonistic Second Visitor (or "Ghost of Christmas Present" as he had renamed it when adapting it into a Christmas ritual), there was still a matter of who would become the Ghost of Christmas Past (formerly known as the First Visitor). Santa's wife Skadi was considered for the role. Still, Death thought it would be poetic for another Fable to fill it and chose a refugee from the Sheeda invasion of Fryslân (the Homelands' Denmark) named Rakel.

Rakel and her abusive father had managed to stow away on one of the last ships to leave Fryslân as the Sheeda ravaged the kingdom. Arriving in Londontown without resources, the father and daughter shared a rough existence. Rakel's father turned to alcohol to handle the trauma the Sheeda had inflicted upon him. Still, he was a mean drunk and beat Rakel often to satisfy his inebriated sadism.

Young Rakel was forced to sell matches and other wares on the street to help her father pay the rent, as his drinking squandered most of the money he earned at his low-paying job. When she was just thirteen years old, she was caught in a blizzard but still refused to go home, knowing that her father would abuse her if she dared to come home without a single coin in profit. Desperately, she tried to find a buyer, but the streets were bare, and no one was willing to open their door to the cold to entertain her sales pitch.

Our little match girl did find one person who dared to brave the cold; Ebenezer Scrooge was walking home from a long night at the office. He noticed the girl sitting in an alleyway, resigned from selling her matches and lighting her wares one by one to enjoy their fleeting warmth. Scrooge did not notice that Death was also there in that alley, unseen but present, waiting to introduce herself to the girl and take her to a happier, warmer place.

Death saw Scrooge's hesitation and heard him call out to the girl, breaking her from her trance as she stared intently into the flames of her match. Scrooge told the girl that she would freeze if she stayed there. The girl told the miser of her plight, how she would be beaten if she came home without a single coin for her efforts. Scrooge reached into his coat pocket, rubbing a spare coin between his thumb and fingers. Death saw him consider the matter before he scoffed "Bah-humbug" and left, leaving the girl to strike another match and stare into the flames.

Rakel did not survive that night, but she died with a smile on her face as Death came to her in the form of her kind and loving grandmother, taking her to a better place for a time. With Death pulling Rakel back from the dead, Santa cast the Little Match Girl in the new role of their Ghost of Christmas Past. And so, the stage was set for the Greatest Christmas Story Ever Told.

Charles Dickens did an excellent job of telling the story true to how it happened, more or less. He embellished some elements; of course, he is an author. But, there are some differences between the events of the novella and what happened one Christmas Eve in the Homelands. First, Rakel did not have a head alight like a flame. She simply reminded Scrooge of their past encounter and told him her fate — Dickens omitted this. Still, Hans Christian Andersen would immortalize the tale two years after A Christmas Carol was published with his classic tale, Den Lille Pige med Svovlstikkerne, or "The Little Match Girl." Second, Rakel told Scrooge to look into her matches' flames, just as she had done in her final moments, prompting him to see his past and remember warmer, happier memories.

Other differences are the minor appearance that Dickens called Ignorance and Want. Occult scholars think this may have been a cameo appearance from Santa's twin children, Freyr and Freyja, respectively, possibly appearing to help their father make this particular instance of the annual ritual more impactful. However, for whatever reason, Dickens employed the god and goddess as emaciated children for some symbolic effect.

Then, finally, there was no actual time travel. Death did not take Scrooge to the future. Instead, she might have taken him to the Dreaming, where her ability to shape visions is nearly as powerful as her brother, who rules the realm. However, I believe she actually took Scrooge to the Theatre Cosmic because this would definitely have left a more significant impact on Scrooge as the Dreaming has a way of making memories a bit hazy upon waking up. Either way, the plan worked.

Upon the departure of Death, Scrooge turned over a new leaf instantly. He generously gave to the poor, visited his neglected nephew Fred, and bought his employee Bob Cratchit and his family a delicious Christmas goose, as well as personally seeing to the medical expenses for Bob's youngest, crippled son "Tiny Tim," keeping him from meeting Death anytime soon, as his tormented visit with Death had implied was all too near. But the effect didn't end there; Scrooge became an enduring philanthropist and spent his and Marley's wealth helping usher in a new era for Londontown.

Eventually, Scrooge heard of other Fables needing help, and he left Londontown with the Cratchits to settle in Fabletown, which was in desperate need of finances. Scrooge helped the Fables in exile construct what came to be known as Fabletown, sequestered in secret among the bowels of New York City. He was also crucial in building the Farm in upstate New York, which became a rural version of Fabletown where the bestial Fables and the more fantastical Fables who couldn't afford glamours could live.

When Dickens published this tale, its popularity guaranteed its characters' immortality. Marley's curse was broken, and he was free to pass on. However, fearing what awaited him should he pass over, Marley accepted Death's offer to become one of her warders and continue acting as the ritual's harbinger to redeem himself before giving up the ghost. However, as a reasonably popular Fable now, I'm not sure Marley has much need to fear the afterlife anytime soon...

Marley wasn't the only warder made in the aftermath of this success. Rakel was snatched from the afterlife and returned to life in the Sheeda-ravaged wasteland of her native Fryslân sometime after Scrooge's story became popular. Around this time, The Little Match Girl began to make its own cultural impact, further cementing her legend. Finding her way to our world, Rakel was tracked down by Death and asked to continue serving as the Ghost of Christmas Past.

However, shortly after Rakel returned to the role, Santa had to retire his wreath crown and green coat. Even if the ritual was moved to another night, Christmas had boomed into something that kept the big man busy year-round building toys and preparing for his incredible annual sleigh ride. The entire economy of Santa's elves required the big guy around the clock during the holiday season that the ritual had been tied to, so Santa found a suitable replacement to fill the Ghost of Christmas Present role. So, Skadi stepped in to fill her husband's shoes.

Skadi didn't mind having an excuse to get wasted during the holiday season, especially when the three Ghosts decided to keep to the tradition of visiting their chosen target on Christmas Eve. At the very least, all the alcohol would help keep her mind off her husband's long absence or the worry she had about his yearly visit to Apokalypse - what's that now? You don't know about how Santa invades an alien empire every year just to give some nasty extraterrestrial god a lump of coal? Well, that, my readers, is a tale for another time. But what do you think? Have you recently encountered three spirits on the Yuletide that inspired you to give pause to reconsider your lifestyle choices? Have you been walking on the road recently and met a kindly old man who looked so much like your imagined visage of Ebenezer Scrooge that you wondered if that might just be the original Grinch? Did you begin to wonder if the magic of Christmas was still alive, just for me to drop this heartwarming tale in your feed? Well, you know what to do. Fill those comment boxes and I'll see you soon for another installment of the Dinkley Files!

Until then, I'm Velma Dinkley bidding you all a Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.

## Links and References

1. ↑ The Dinkley Files: A Christmas Carol