Ann Wright teaches English language skills and children's literature at the College of St Paul & St Mary, Cheltenharn, U. K.
Ann Wright Paul Theroux's Christmas tales
Paul Theroux's two Christmas tales are part of a genre and both centre on truthful discoveries about human behaviour and values. One tale is set in the snowy woods of the American East Coast and the other in a London which {although contemporary in its general aspectsl has pervasive whiffs of Dickensian fog to suggest other times and other lives. A Christmas Card and London Snow, both illustrated by John Lawrence's evocative wood engravings, have an atmosphere of "Once upon a time;' although they invite the attention of readers and listeners in different ways. The narrator of A Christmas Card, Marcel, is looking back on the adventure which happened, when as a child of 9, he and his family were traveling to spend Christmas in their new home at Indian Willows. Marcel creates the atmosphere of family life with its ups and downs most convincingly. He had not wanted to leave their apartment in the city at Christmas, especially as his father, who traveled a good deal, had just returned from a trip to Asia. On the drive through New England, a snowstorm begins, and his father gets lost on the back roads: Marcel's usual trust in his father is replaced by fear: A Christmas Card, p. 11
He knew better than to lead us through this storm. But he had sneaked us away from home and now he was lost and so we were all lost. Despite these circumstances, however, the idea of magic is in the air, a magic which leads them to a tall, brightly lit house in the middle of nowhere.
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Both A Christmas Card and London Snow have the traditional immediacy of the tale, and the reader or listener is plunged, after the initial description, into mysterious worlds which have their own laws, but nevertheless coexist with and illuminate our own; this is the essence of the secondary world, and Paul Theroux captures the atmosphere primarily by description rather than by the magic details of a fairy tale. But magic does exist, of course, as the Christmas card which Marcel and his brother Louis discover next morning proves; and Pappy, the old man who had welcomed them to the mysterious house, may not be there to say goodbye, but he has not disappeared completely. The card guides the family to their own house, and then encourages Marcel into speculation about the relationship between his world and someone else's: A Christmas Card, p. 44
And then I knew: if the picture was really alive, an accurate picture of our world, then it would reflect cloud and sun; and if it was dark outside the picture too would be dark. I had seen the card at midnight, so I had seen only darkness. But with the dawn the picture had grown lighter and now it was as bright as morning. London Snow's nineteenth century echoes are heard partly in the descriptions, partly in the dialogue (especially Mrs Mutterance's speech), and partly by separating the narrative from a narrator. Descriptive details evoke both pictures and a way of life. The initial descriptions of Mrs Mutterance's sweetshop window is a powerful appeal to the senses:
London Snow, p. 1
. . . the red ribbons on a pyramid of chocolate boxes, trays of glazed fruit, marzipan wrapped in crisp green cellophane and bins of humbugs that shone with an enamelling of sugar. A Christmas tree with silver needles and baubles of mint lumps and wine gums pinpoints the time of year and helps to suggest a particular kind of ethos whose values and security are soon to be threatened. Theroux's poetic descriptions in both tales refine the simple narrative appeal and work in different ways to evoke an atmosphere which is neither quite contemporary nor identifiably historical- as with all tales these stories exist inside and outside time. London Snow, with its looming threat that Mrs Mutterance's sweetshop will be turned into what her disagreeable landlord, Snyder, describes variously as " . . . a l a u n d r y - e t t e . . , a laundry-matic . . . a washy-teria . . :', is contemporary enough; but the characters of all those involved in this tale are highly original and sometimes idiosyncratic - a winning mixture of vitality, fear, and independence.
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Ilustration by John Lawrence from A Christmas Card. Copyright 9 1978 by Paul Theroux. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston.
London Snow is about character, feelings, and action; for exampie,
Mrs Mutterance's insistence that they all try to find Mr Snyder when he disappears is a reflection of her existence in a moral world, a world which has become inextricably part of the sweetshop's magical charm. The association of a special character with a particular place is a familiar element of fairy tales. Very often this association supports the contrast between good and evil or may point to the differences between appearance and reality. Paul Theroux's use of Pappy in A Christmas Card is in some ways reminiscent of M. R. James' ghost
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stories. Pappy is first seen as much taller than Marcel's father, wearing a crooked hat "and a black cape that seemed to give him limp wings and leather boots that grunted as he walked:' (p. 14) But his friendly and direct conversation belies his appearance, and the events which follow reflect Marcel's sympathy and imagination, which are rewarded by his Christmas gift of fire; a fire which unites the narrative's elements and contributes a symbolic significance to Marcel's determined attempts to discover the Christmas card's meaning. Mrs Mutterance's similarly d e t e r m i n e d - a n d to her adopted children, inexplicable- attempts to find and rescue her persecuting landlord are part of a specifically Christian tradition; but Mrs Mutterance herself has, like Pappy, a lively and energetic imagination. Only when her organised intention of saving Snyder comes to a climax does her language become direct and serious. In a previous discussion with her adopted children, Wallace and Amy, it reflects the divided nature of her character: London Snow, p. 36
"If we dofft look for him, he'll be lost", said Mrs Mutterance. "Do you want that harrowing thing on your conscience?" Wallace stood up and said loudly, "I'd rather have him on my conscience than tramping around upstairs in this house!" Amy said, "Someone else can look for him, can't they?" "Impossible," said Mrs Mutterance. She blew out her cheeks. "Infictious. Out of the question. Pure flapdoodle:' "Why?" asked Wallace. "No one will look for him:' She shook her head. "He's too bastable. No one wants to see him again:' "You admit it!" said Wallace, thumping the table with his dark fist. "Yes. But that's why we have to look:' Mrs Mutterance spoke slowly. "Because no one else will:'
Both of Paul Theroux's tales belong to a season and to a genre, though within that genre there are differences and distinctions. The Dickensian associations of London Snow place it more particularly in a literary tradition and point to some degree of derivation, perhaps even of imitation. The quirkiness of Mrs Mutterance, for example, is created with a fine disregard for commonplace reality; and the world of London Snow is one where good and bad are seen unambiguously, reminiscent of a pantomime audience's responses to the villain-loud hisses are heard in the mind's ear every time Mr Snyder appears. This black and white morality enhances the narrative's appeal to children, whose preference for exciting adventures goes hand-in-hand with a relish for surprising happenings, provided these contribute to a comprehensible and just conclusion. The recon-
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Illustration by John Lawrence from London Snow. Copyright 9 1979 by Paul Theroux. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston.
ciliation of warring elements which concludes London Snow has its origins in the phrase "and so they all lived happily ever after"; a phrase which is tempered by other literary associations (especially with A Christmas Carol) and a hint of religious duty in Mrs Mutterance's explanation of why she seeks to find and save her enemy. The tale thus seems contrived, and its artificiality makes it less satisfying than A Christmas Card. By contrast, A Christmas Card is both simpler and more complex than London Snow. The description of family life and the shaping viewpoint of Marcel's experiences and reflections are immediately recognizable; they permit a sympathetic and developing insight which supports the tale's reality-the reader is trying to come to terms with this strange happening just as Marcel is. In fact the adventure described in the tale has a persuasiveness about it which derives from this consistent counterpointing of reality. Against this, Paul Theroux's use of description and symbolic imagery, especially light, has the effect of suggesting alternative levels of significance and meaning; these require imaginative and creative interpretation without which the power of the tale cannot be felt. There is no straightforward moral or literary framework; the reader is as puzzled as the narrator to comprehend how different levels of experience can coexist. The nature of the moral revelation is defined, as in London Snow, in terms of an individual; but where Mrs Mutterance seems already to embody a variety of virtues, Marcel Iwithin the story) is a boy who is angry with his father's incompetence and the fact that he is obliged to be affected by it. The spell associated with Pappy to which Marcel is responsive has elements of the fearful, the unknown, the challenging, and the powerful, which are never suggested in the characters of Mrs Mutterance or Mr Snyder. Whatever Pappy
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represents, it is not associated with deceit or unreality, and once known cannot be denied. As a character Pappy strides the gap between magic and myth; there is a persistent sense of religious symbolism inherent in the family's having found refuge in his house, and subsequently, in Marcel's growing understanding of the Christmas card's meaning. The finely written conclusion to this is exciting and subtle in its moral vision. Marcel decides to light the fire in exchange for the Christmas card, and Pappy hands him the torch: I gripped it and as I did so I felt strength in my hand and that strength passed to my whole body. And then I knew the real power of that man, and while I held the torch I understood the innermost secrets of the world, for its light was wisdom and truth. And it was terrible, too, for its power was the power to destroy. Its purity was heat and light mingled, darkness consumed to make f i r e - n o t the simple flame I had imagined, but something fiercer which, if not controlled and understood, was more deadly than darkness:' {p. 68) Marcel as adult narrator has clearly relived the experience of his childhood, describing it in symbolic and adult terms; it is part of Paul Theroux's artistic achievement that in the book, family life immediately resumes after this illumination without any sense of improper juxtaposition or inequality of significance. And the questions about Pappy's true identity will remain, just as the contents of his envelope are u n k n o w n - t h o u g h not, of course, to Marcel. References Theroux, Paul, A Christmas Card, London: Hamish Hamilton, 1978; Puffin, 1979. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1978. Page references to both books are to the Puffin editions. Theroux, Paul, London Snow. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1980; Puffin, 1982. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1980.
