Christmas with the original crank
Sat down last night with H and Candy and watched A Charlie Brown Christmas special last night. What a treat. I don’t think I’d seen it since college, if not before, and I had forgotten what simple joy can be derived from a lovable blockhead’s simple quest for the true meaning of Christmas. If you haven’t seen it since you were a kid, I suggest you find out when it’s being broadcast again or go to the video store immediately and watch it. Since its original broadcast in 1965 (almost 40 years ago! ye gods!) much has changed and nothing has changed. The holiday season has been overrun by corporations and stores and even consumer groups (you’re telling me the publisher of the next “Ten Best Toys for Your Kid This Christmas” List isn’t getting a kickback from the makers of Toy #1-10? Bah, humbug!) telling us what to buy for whom and for what reason, forgetting the true spirit of giving, sharing, loving and hope that Christmas is all about. I hold that the Charlie Brown Christmas Special is the perfect parable for our modern Yuletide time, a brilliant cautionary tale on the excesses of the season and the real reasons for our celebration.
From the beginning, poor Charlie Brown is beset on all sides by the rampant consumerism of modern culture. From his psychiatric session with Lucy (“Nickels Nickels Nickels!”) to Sally’s letter to Santa (“If it seems too complicated, make it easy on yourself: just send money. How about tens and twenties?”) to Snoopy’s angling for the cash prize for the neighborhood Christmas decoration contest, Charlie sees that his whole world has been engulfed by capitalism. The pursuit of happiness has been replaced by the pursuit of bigger, better and more, the attaining of which should prove enough to provide happiness. No wonder, in one of the first scenes of the show, Charlie laments to Linus “I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed.” In a culture like this, someone who is NOT made happy by material excess can’t help but be depressed.
Of course, this all come to a culmination when Lucy, in an apparent bout of charity, offers the role of director of the Christmas play to Charlie Brown. Finally! Charlie’s big break! A chance to fully engross himself in the Christmas season and lead his dubious peers in celebrating all that is good about the season. But, of course, things turn real ugly real fast. First, Charlie gets flack from his assembled peers for his role selection (was the Naturally Curly Hair girl always that fucking annoying?) and then can’t get his cast to focus when giving direction (leading to one of my favorite exchanges of the show: Charlie cues Schroeder to play some Christmas music to set the tone, but Schroeder quickly segues into “Linus and Lucy”, leading the gang to break out dancing: the purple twins start swaying, Shermie does his zombie walk, Snoopy plays bass, Linus & Sally cut a rug. Simply genius). Charlie loses it and Lucy must step in to diffuse the situation (never a good thing), sending Charlie and Linus to find a Christmas tree for the pageant, with a hearty “Don’t mess this up, Charlie Brown” on the way out the door from Lucy’s lackey Violet.
You probably remember the rest: Charlie and Linus head down to the tree lot, only to find the place overrun with garish, sparkling, shiny metal trees. Abandoning his orders (Lucy: “Get the biggest aluminum tree you can find, Charlie Brown, maybe painted pink.”), Charlie settles on the only real tree left, a small sickly looking twig of three branches (though it miraculously multiplies to five in the next scene—ah, the early days of animation). Linus is, as usual, noncommittal but also nonplussed (“Gee. Do they still make wooden Christmas Trees?”) and the two return to the auditorium with their treasure. Upon return, Charlie the conquering hero and his now eponymous Christmas tree are roundly harangued, disparaged and sent packing, to the overwhelming chorus of disdain from his peers. Charlie is dumbstruck and has clearly reached his breaking point. The consumerism and greed of the holiday have overwhelmed him.
“Isn't there anyone out there who can tell me,” he shouts, “what Christmas is all about?”
“Sure Charlie Brown, I can tell you.”
And Linus steps into the spotlight and recites the famous passage from the New Testament (Luke 2:10ish) that recounts the foretelling of the birth of Christ to the shepherds. It is a stunning moment in television. Everytime I watch it, I get goosebumps. I know few people who disagree. It’s a moment that screams out in its subtlety and simplicity for the audience to listen. Just stop. And listen.
And instantly, the whole Peanuts gang knows what we know. We all fucked up. We forgot the true spirit of the season. We forgot that love is the best gift that can be given or received and that televisions or toys or “tens and twenties” cannot bring happiness. We forgot that “goodwill towards man” means “goodwill towards EVERYman”, even if that man’s head is a little too big and round and he wears the same shirt everyday and he can’t kick a football or throw a baseball or pick out the perfect shiny pink metallic Christmas tree.
Down with the exorbitant (and first prize winning, mind you) decorations on the house of Snoopy and up with the myth of the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree, the mundane made sublime through mutual acceptance, belief and love. True beauty unleashed not by the financial hegemony of the highest bidder but by the gathering of friends to surprise and celebrate.
By now, it should be obvious why I have such an affinity for this TV special and its lovable loser protagonist. In many ways, I AM Charlie Brown (H can attest to much of this). I am not the hugest fan of Christmas. I find overzealous celebration of the holiday to be unsavory at best and fanatical at worst. I see the beauty of a small, simple, sparsely decorated tannenbaum over the plastic anthropomorphic glowing and waving and ho-ho-hoing monstrosities of our time. Charlie Brown reminds us that there is more to the season than buying the right necklace for your wife or making sure your kids get the same presents that everyone else’s kid gets.
So next time you get too down on Christmas and the materialistic disaster it has become, remember there’s always another way. And the next time that someone tells you “Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you are the Charlie Browniest” just turn your head upwards, face the sky and sing:
“HARK THE HERALD ANGELS SING!”
From the beginning, poor Charlie Brown is beset on all sides by the rampant consumerism of modern culture. From his psychiatric session with Lucy (“Nickels Nickels Nickels!”) to Sally’s letter to Santa (“If it seems too complicated, make it easy on yourself: just send money. How about tens and twenties?”) to Snoopy’s angling for the cash prize for the neighborhood Christmas decoration contest, Charlie sees that his whole world has been engulfed by capitalism. The pursuit of happiness has been replaced by the pursuit of bigger, better and more, the attaining of which should prove enough to provide happiness. No wonder, in one of the first scenes of the show, Charlie laments to Linus “I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents and sending Christmas cards and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed.” In a culture like this, someone who is NOT made happy by material excess can’t help but be depressed.
Of course, this all come to a culmination when Lucy, in an apparent bout of charity, offers the role of director of the Christmas play to Charlie Brown. Finally! Charlie’s big break! A chance to fully engross himself in the Christmas season and lead his dubious peers in celebrating all that is good about the season. But, of course, things turn real ugly real fast. First, Charlie gets flack from his assembled peers for his role selection (was the Naturally Curly Hair girl always that fucking annoying?) and then can’t get his cast to focus when giving direction (leading to one of my favorite exchanges of the show: Charlie cues Schroeder to play some Christmas music to set the tone, but Schroeder quickly segues into “Linus and Lucy”, leading the gang to break out dancing: the purple twins start swaying, Shermie does his zombie walk, Snoopy plays bass, Linus & Sally cut a rug. Simply genius). Charlie loses it and Lucy must step in to diffuse the situation (never a good thing), sending Charlie and Linus to find a Christmas tree for the pageant, with a hearty “Don’t mess this up, Charlie Brown” on the way out the door from Lucy’s lackey Violet.
You probably remember the rest: Charlie and Linus head down to the tree lot, only to find the place overrun with garish, sparkling, shiny metal trees. Abandoning his orders (Lucy: “Get the biggest aluminum tree you can find, Charlie Brown, maybe painted pink.”), Charlie settles on the only real tree left, a small sickly looking twig of three branches (though it miraculously multiplies to five in the next scene—ah, the early days of animation). Linus is, as usual, noncommittal but also nonplussed (“Gee. Do they still make wooden Christmas Trees?”) and the two return to the auditorium with their treasure. Upon return, Charlie the conquering hero and his now eponymous Christmas tree are roundly harangued, disparaged and sent packing, to the overwhelming chorus of disdain from his peers. Charlie is dumbstruck and has clearly reached his breaking point. The consumerism and greed of the holiday have overwhelmed him.
“Isn't there anyone out there who can tell me,” he shouts, “what Christmas is all about?”
“Sure Charlie Brown, I can tell you.”
And Linus steps into the spotlight and recites the famous passage from the New Testament (Luke 2:10ish) that recounts the foretelling of the birth of Christ to the shepherds. It is a stunning moment in television. Everytime I watch it, I get goosebumps. I know few people who disagree. It’s a moment that screams out in its subtlety and simplicity for the audience to listen. Just stop. And listen.
And instantly, the whole Peanuts gang knows what we know. We all fucked up. We forgot the true spirit of the season. We forgot that love is the best gift that can be given or received and that televisions or toys or “tens and twenties” cannot bring happiness. We forgot that “goodwill towards man” means “goodwill towards EVERYman”, even if that man’s head is a little too big and round and he wears the same shirt everyday and he can’t kick a football or throw a baseball or pick out the perfect shiny pink metallic Christmas tree.
Down with the exorbitant (and first prize winning, mind you) decorations on the house of Snoopy and up with the myth of the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree, the mundane made sublime through mutual acceptance, belief and love. True beauty unleashed not by the financial hegemony of the highest bidder but by the gathering of friends to surprise and celebrate.
By now, it should be obvious why I have such an affinity for this TV special and its lovable loser protagonist. In many ways, I AM Charlie Brown (H can attest to much of this). I am not the hugest fan of Christmas. I find overzealous celebration of the holiday to be unsavory at best and fanatical at worst. I see the beauty of a small, simple, sparsely decorated tannenbaum over the plastic anthropomorphic glowing and waving and ho-ho-hoing monstrosities of our time. Charlie Brown reminds us that there is more to the season than buying the right necklace for your wife or making sure your kids get the same presents that everyone else’s kid gets.
So next time you get too down on Christmas and the materialistic disaster it has become, remember there’s always another way. And the next time that someone tells you “Of all the Charlie Browns in the world, you are the Charlie Browniest” just turn your head upwards, face the sky and sing:
“HARK THE HERALD ANGELS SING!”
posted by bd @ 12/08/2004 07:08:00 PM
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