The Official J. Wiltz Christmas Story Countdown

...and it's only two months late! Yes, after spending January and the bulk of February getting strange looks from people on the bus and subway, I have finally made time to sit down and finish the Everyman Library's collection of Christmas stories. Like the ghost and love story collections, this one was mostly great with only two or three blah stories tossed into the mix for good measure. Here are some quick thoughts about each one, along with links where some of them can be found online. Enjoy. Merry belated Christmas.

 The Story of the Goblins Who Stole a Sexton by Charles Dickens. If you've read anything by Dickens, you've probably read that other Christmas story he's so famous for. This one is a little shorter, but the idea is basically the same: an unpleasant man is visited by spirits (goblins) on Christmas Eve; they scare the crap out of him until he pledges to be a nicer person. Dickens's sense of horror is very strong here. If you like nightmarish scenes (think Neil Gaiman), you'll love it. Note: this story is taken from a longer work called The Pickwick Papers.

The Night Before Christmas (may also be called Christmas Eve) by Nikolai Gogol. Not to be confused with "'Twas the Night Before Christmas", this story is, stylistically speaking, the most interesting one in the entire collection. It begins with the devil stealing the moon from the sky and placing it in his pocket and then goes on to invoke everything from Jacob's struggle with God (Genesis 32) to "Cinderella" to Catherine the Great. Along the way, Gogol does some interesting things with his timeline and makes a number of funny observations about human nature and relationships. Best of all, the whole thing is written like a folk/fairy tale. This is one of the longer stories in the Everyman collection, but I personally plan to make a Christmas tradition out of reading it. It's strange and wonderful in the best sense of those words. Make sure you find and read it.

The Blue Carbuncle by Arthur Conan Doyle. If you've seen either of the Sherlock Holmes movies starring Robert Downey Jr., you owe it to yourself to go back and read the original stories. Everyone knows how the formula works, of course: (1) Holmes finds some innocent-looking item and says that it gives him great insight into a mystery that has baffled the police; (2) Watson asks what Holmes means; (3) Holmes meticulously outlines the tiny details of the item and uses them as clues; (4) Watson and Holmes use the clues to set out on an adventure. There's a reason these stories have stood the test of time and entered the popular imagination. It's because they're fun to read, and this one is no exception. Check it out.

Christmas at Thompson Hall by Anthony Trollope. If you ever go to Barnes & Noble and look through their display of classic books, there are certain authors you are guaranteed to encounter: Ovid, Twain, Poe, Hawthorne, Austen, the Bronte sisters, etc. Look a little closer and you'll also see a few by Anthony Trollope, a great Victorian novelist who's always there but whom no one has ever heard of. It's kind of a shame, because the man wrote very well. Like all Victorians, he can be a little long-winded and overly obsessed with proper manners, but I assure you this is the best Christmas story you will ever read about mustard. Enjoy.

Where Love Is, God Is by Leo Tolstoy. If you went to elementary school with me, you probably remember watching "Martin the Cobbler" in the library every Christmas. This is the story it was based on - a simple, beautiful tale that demonstrates how the Christian life should be lived. Good stuff.

Vanka by Anton Chekhov. I hate to admit this, but "Vanka" is the first Chekhov story I've ever read. That's pretty sad, given that I know what a strong influence he was on a lot of other great literary figures (especially Tennessee Williams). This story, I believe, is a metaphor for prayer. It's somewhat tragic until...well, you just have to read it. Let me know what you think.

The Burglar's Christmas by Willa Cather. A modern version of the parable of the prodigal son. If you have a strong relationship with your parents or children - or if there's someone in your life that you need to forgive - it will probably move you to tears. Just one choice line: "Have you wandered so far and paid such a bitter price for knowledge and not yet learned that love has nothing to do with pardon or forgiveness, that it only loves, and loves - and loves?"

A Chapparal Christmas Gift by O. Henry. The word most often associated with O. Henry is irony, and you'll find lots of it in this fast-paced campfire story about the Frio Kid, a heartbroken outlaw in South Texas. As in most of Henry's fiction, there's a surprise at the end -- the kind that sits there for a minute, then makes you go "Oooooooh," read the last three pages again, and say to yourself, "Oh yeah!" Don't miss this one, amigos.

Reginald's Christmas Revel by H. H. Munro (Saki). A lot of stories about Christmas are centered around thoughts of charity, love, sadness, etc. All of those things are artistically legitimate, but let's not forget: Christmas is for smartasses too. Check out this quick-witted little story about the difficulty of pretending to like your family during the holidays. (Note: the last incident the narrator describes sounds like something I would have done a few years ago.) :)

Christmas by Vladimir Nabokov. I don't know how he does it, but in this story Vladimir Nabokov morphs a father's bitter grief into a beautiful expression of hope and rebirth. Depending on what mood you're in, you'll either find it very inspiring or very cheesy. It caught me in an inspirational mood. Hope it does the same for you. (Note: listen to "Lightning Crashes" after you finish reading this. The chorus of that song perfectly sums up the theme of the story.)

Dancing Dan's Christmas by Damon Runyon. It's hard to put into words what a pleasant surprise this story turned out to be. When I first started reading this collection, I expected to be most taken by one of the better known authors (Updike, Nabokov, maybe Capote). As it turns out, this is probably my favorite story in the entire book. Written in an exaggerated New Yorker dialect, it tells the story of Christmas during Prohibition and includes everything from a love triangle to a jewel heist. It also includes a drunken Santa Claus, which makes me smile and say, "Yeah. I've definitely been there a time or two." :) Do yourself a favor and read this. Then come to over to my place so we can talk about it over some hot Tom and Jerry. 

Bella Fleace Gave a Party by Evelyn Waugh. I've always noticed a similarity between the social structure of the Old South and British/Irish high society. (Scarlett's last name was O'Hara, was it not?) This story just proves my point. Bella Fleace is an old woman from a fading Irish family. She lives in a grand old home, and one Christmas, in her late 80s, she decides to spruce the place up and throw an elegant Christmas party. What happens at this party? Track the story down and find out. Waugh is very skilled at mixing joy and sorrow in equal doses.

Green Holly by Elizabeth Bowen. I've read a couple of Elizabeth Bowen's stories now, and already I'm starting to notice a pattern. She really likes heavy atmosphere, crossing the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, and ghosts. This story didn't do very much for me, but I give it credit for being well-written. Give it a chance and make up your own mind.

Christmas is a Sad Season for the Poor by John Cheever. This classic New Yorker piece left me with mixed emotions. Even after thinking it over, I still can't tell if it's meant to poke fun at high society or at low-income working people who take advantage of other people's kindness. I'll have to read it again. In the meantime, though, I do have to say that I like its central theme: human goodness is contagious. Read it over and see what you think. (Note: I've linked to the New Yorker site, so the layout is really cool and arty.)

A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote. Whenever I think of Truman Capote, the first thing I think of is his famous criticism of Jack Kerouac and the Beat Generation: "It isn't writing. It's typing." I love this quote, not only because I largely share Capote's sentiment, but because he himself had the writing chops to back it up. "A Christmas Memory" is a classic example. Here, Capote takes simple things like fruitcake and Christmas decorations and uses them to tell one of the best stories about friendship this side of Jim and Huck. Bring Kleenex. I shed tears on the subway reading this.

The Carol Sing by John Updike. There are two stories about Christmas concerts in this story collection, a sad one and a joyful one. This is the sad one. Updike's story isn't simply about loss, it's about absence. And it's a reminder that we never really know what someone might be going through. Take care of your loved ones, especially at Christmas. And check out this story.

Christmas Fugue by Muriel Spark. I wish I could think of something nice to say about this story, dear readers, but quite honestly, it's the runt of the litter: a predictable "woman starting over" story that you might read in a college creative writing course. As always, I encourage you to find it, read it, and see what you think. As for me, I'll soon be writing a letter to Random House that begins: "Dear Random House - no, seriously what is this story doing in here?"

The Loudest Voice by Grace Paley. Damn, I wish I could find this story online so everyone could just click and read it. It's a story about a little Jewish girl in 1930s New York who gets a big part in her school's Christmas play because her voice is so loud and clear. Naturally, this causes a bit of scandal in her home and neighborhood, as the people around her begin to debate whether it is proper for a Jewish girl to give voice to a Christian holiday. It's a very cute story, and I'm using "cute" in the way that isn't condescending. Honestly, try to find it.

The Turkey Season by Alice Munro. Anyone who says that women can't write (and yes, there are people who say that) has clearly never read anything by Alice Munro. "The Turkey Season" is a slice-of-life story about a girl who works in a turkey processing plant during the Christmas season. It reminds me of something David Sedaris might write in one of his more serious moods, and I recommend it to anyone who's ever had a memorable job or one of those moments in life where "something happened" that no one can quite put their finger on. Great stuff.

Creche by Richard Ford. I only know this because I work with a bunch of Canadians who speak French: a "creche" is a Nativity or manger scene. I still can't figure out why Ford picked this particular title for his story about a lonely businessswoman on vacation with her mom, brother-in-law, and nieces, but I'm sure he had his reasons. Give it a try and let me know what you come up with.