CELEBRATIONS ~ The Spirit of Christmas

Christmas has a complex spirit. It may seem simple. Put up some sparkly ornaments, light the fire, hang the wreath, and switch on the fairy lights. Gifts all wrapped in pretty paper and tied with bows, and love. Time spent on reflection of the year almost gone, merry making with family and friends, and counting our blessings over grand meals shared. But is that all that Christmas is?

Deep at the heart of Christmas are both pagan and Christian beliefs shared over several countries and centuries all of who have added images and tales to the vast tapestry of Christmas.

The star that guided The Three Wise Men

If we separate Christmas from the religious aspects, (and many do) something sacred yet remains. Something you cannot see, or touch. It's there, under the glitter, beyond the price of presents. Perhaps it is within us. Christmas has a heart.

Victorian Christmas illustration

The darkest time of the year is a time to look inward, to be grateful for the gifts we have, both material and spiritual.  To remember and thank those who have brightened our year, and not to forget those less fortunate than ourselves.

The Night Before Christmas
Arthur Rackham

The story of Christmas, in all it's variations is more than a tale for children, which adults will remember.

Something about it reaches out to our own childhood, that tiny remnant of us which has never, and will never quite grow up.

We take delight in all of it's pleasures,  expectations and possibilities. The excitement of the  night before Christmas, the possibility of a  White Christmas in the snow, centuries of songs played each year, the glow of fairy lights in darkness.




Every year I take out the same favourite ornamants and  images. Time does not ever dim them. Those storytellers who told and illustrated the tale live on in our hearts as we pass their words and images down to our children and grandchildren. It may mean something slightly different to each new generation but we can all learn from what came before.


As I said, Christmas has a compex spirit. Bright, but not all light. It is a mysterious magic how some of  the darkest tales can gladden the heart. The German and Allied soldiers who shared a Christmas truce are the perfect example of how Christmas changes our actions and emotions.

The Christmas Truce



The Spirit of Christmas by Frank Adams
 

The classic Christmas story remains 'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens. It has a happy ending, and yet, it depicts so much suffering which was common in those days. We see Victorian times as romantic but poverty caused great pain, and death for many.

Probably my very favourite Christmas story is 'The Little Match Girl' by Hans Christian Anderson. As a child I found the Arthur Rackham illustration and wondered who this child was whose face was so illuminated by the Spirit of Christmas. Rackham's vision of her transfixed me then, and still does, but she has been beautifully represented by many artists. 

Arthur Rackham's Little Match Girl

That Christmas I found the story in an old book and read it in a quiet place. I was surprised to find that my cheeks were wet. A sensation which was new to me. We had a shiny fake tree that year, all the rage in the 60s. It was white, covered in tinsel and on a revolving stand which played 'Silent Night' and other songs over and over as the tree and it's pastel ornaments went round and round very slowly. But no matter how modern or plastic our tree was, Christmas was still real. I waited until dinner had been served and crept under the tree to stand alone for a few minutes thinking of all the little match girls the world had known. In my 6 year old heart I knew that she was real and I vowed never to forget her. None of us should.



Illustrated by |Janet and Anne Graham Johnstone

 



“La cerillera / The Little Match Girl”

from “No tan felices”

by Manuel de los galanes

Kristin over at the wonderful 'Tales of Faerie' has captured her spirit and that of Christmas so well in this post. Take the time to remember her and all of those who live without Hope, yet still believe in it.

The Little Match Girl by Tales of Faerie

ARTHUR RACKHAM THE MASTER ENCHANTER

 

Arthur Rackham (19th September - 6th September 1939)

I cannot allow September to leave us without paying tribute to Arthur Rackham who was born and died in this misty month. In England September seems to be more than just a month, it's a Season of it's own, in between Summer and Autumn. English Septembers are wet, chilly, windy and yet also warm. Occasionally enfused with a bright light which seems to penetrate the mist. It's not quite dark, not October, it hangs on the threshold, like Twilight, just hinting at the spooky things that will come later.

Last night our village was bathed in a thick fog that the few street lamps just penetrated. The trees on the village green, nearly bare now, took on a twisted and gnarled appearance. Shapes scuttled about in the dim glow of the lamps. The light in the windows of the old Inn on the main road looked inviting and figures hurried along towards it's safety.

This was the world which Arthur Rackham inhabited and which I have always loved.

Everyone has their favourite childhood books, stories read to them by their elders and illustrations looked at again and again. Some prefer the 'kind Faerie' sweet countenance of illustrators like Margaret Tarrant or Molly Brett to the 'scary Faerie' world of Arthur Rackham.  But not me.

When I was a child Disney was all the rage. Children's books were modern, brightly coloured and suitable for those of a nervous disposition under the age of six.

 

The images were flat and one dimensional. There was no one to be frightened of, the Wicked stepsister,  Queen or Witch simply wasn't wicked. Nothing was hiding under the bed, in the wardrobe or behind that tree. It was safe to go down to the woods. But I missed the Wolf.  It was as if the world of Faerie which I had come to know from the old, tattered and dusty books from the school library had been censored and tamed.

It was the old books which enchanted me, made me respect Fairy Tales and look deeper into their meanings. They were often the last thing I put down at night and the first which was picked up the next morning. They filled my dreams, and yes, nightmares. But they gave me a grounding for the terrors and triumphs of real life too.

Several illustrators captured the characters I shared the twilight hours with in the way that I imagined them - or, did I imagine them in this way because those illustrators gave me the visions? I'll never know, but for me Arthur Rackham was The Master Enchanter.

And it seems entirely appropriate that other artists have also fallen under the Rackham spell. Illustrator Nicola Bayley lived in the studio at the top of his North London house when she began her career and remembers it as all black wood and leaded windows.

The Mousehole Cat illustrated by Nicola Bayley. This is the Great Storm Cat.

Nicola and her husband shot by Mercer Design.
mercer design

Today the same house is owned by Film maker extraordinaire Tim Burton and his beautiful and eccentric wife Helena Bonham-Carter. I'm sure Arthur would have approved very much.

The Wiki page for Arthur Rackham