A Scrooge by any other name...

Hi Mom,

As I mentioned before, Dane, Lucy and I attended a community theater performance of , A Christmas Carol. We had a lot of fun. The first picture I posted is me with the actor that played both the solicitor that comes to Scrooge’s office because they are taking up a fund for the poor. Later in the play he is the Ghost of Christmas Present. He has his hand fisted over my head because he’s sprinkling me with Christmas “Spirit” dust. He was generous to pose for a picture with me. (on a side note, I want you to know that my posting pictures of myself is an indication of how much I love you, because I loathe having my picture taken.)

It was wonderful to take a little time off from all of the cleaning, organizing and planning I’ve been doing these past couple of weeks to get the house ready to sell. As I’ve been sorting through more than 20 years accumulation of stuff, I’ve really been trying to focus on my blessings as opposed to my trials. Writing these blog posts has been very cathartic for me and has reminded me of just how much I have to be grateful for. I hope you are enjoying reading them as much as I am enjoying writing them. Continuing with our Christmas Carol discussion.

As a first step in our consideration of the question “Why did Ebenezer Scrooge change?” I want to examine the character’s name. Charles Dickens was an author who paid attention to the tiniest details of a story. Surely he chose the name “Ebenezer Scrooge” quite intentionally, fully aware of its multiple layers of meaning.

For us, the word “Scrooge” is synonymous with “cranky, selfish miser.” The character of Ebenezer Scrooge is so familiar that if you were to refer to someone as a “Scrooge,” just about everybody in the Western world would know what you mean. They’d understand that you were not offering a compliment!

In fact, however, the name “Scrooge” is a variation of an obscure English verb: “to scrouge” or “to scruze.” This verb means “to squeeze” or “to press.” The fact that Dickens chose the name “Scrooge” with this meaning in mind is clear in the classic description of the character in Chapter One of A Christmas Carol:

“Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind-stone, Scrooge! A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn’t thaw it one degree at Christmas.”

It’s as if Dickens opened his thesaurus and copied down every synonym of “squeezing.”
What did Ebenezer Scrooge squeeze so tightly? Most obviously, he squeezed his money. He grasped it and clung to it. He held it so tightly that he was unwilling to part with a farthing. But Ebenezer Scrooge also squeezed his heart. He suffocated his own soul with his obsession with gain. Greed was choking the life out of Ebenezer Scrooge.

I believe without a doubt that Dickens chose the name “Scrooge” primarily because of its underlying meaning. But I wonder if a couple other factors figured into the naming equations. First, I wonder if Dickens chose a name that was uncommon or unique. If you’re going to produce a character who is a classic miser, you may not want to name him “Mr. Smith” or “Mr. Roberts,” out of deference to those who have these surnames. Second, the word “Scrooge” just begs to be spoken in a slow, resonant, ghostly manner. When Marley’s ghost drones “Scroooooooge,” that works much better, for example, than “Craaaaachit.” I wouldn’t be surprised if Dickens chose “Scrooge” for its sound as well as its meaning.

The name “Ebenezer” is not original to the English language. In fact, it is an anglicized version of a Hebrew name, which is itself composed of two Hebrew words. In 1 Samuel 4:1, for example, the Israelities camped at a place called Ebenezer. This name is a combination of the Hebrew word for stone (eben) and the Hebrew word for helper (‘ezer). Thus, an ebenezer (literally, ha-eben ha-’ezer) would have been a stone that offered some sort of assistance. In 1 Samuel 7:12, the judge Samuel sets up a stone as a monument in remembrance of God’s special help. It was a “help-stone” that reminded the Israelites of God’s care. It was kind of like those little monuments you find along highways throughout the United States. They commemorate some event long past, helping us to remember what we would otherwise forget.

Literary irony to be sure! “Ebenezer,” helper, and “Scrooge,” squeezer of money and life; we have a foreshadowing of Scrooge’s transformation in his very name.

Ebenezer Scrooge reminds us of several things. First and most obviously, he reminds us of Christmas. One cannot read A Christmas Carol without renewing one’s excitement for this unique holiday.
As the story of A Christmas Carol plays out, this theme is emphasized time and again. Thus, for Dickens, Ebenezer Scrooge is an ebenezer who reminds us, not only to celebrate Christmas, but also to do so through being generous to the poor, especially to poor children. Dickens is compelling us to be an “Ebenezer,” and not a “Scrooge.”

I have always been so blessed in the many examples I’ve had in my life of “Ebenezers.” Grandma White to be sure. I wish there were a way to convey to her how grateful I am for her example of Christmas Spirit! So many of my childhood memories are wrapped up in the magical atmosphere she always created in her home and the generosity she employed, not just with her children and grandchildren, but just about anyone who crossed her path. I know Grandpa helped, but Grandma was really the engine behind the White Family Christmases. She was our “Ebenezer.”

More on “Scrooge,” tomorrow!

I hope you have a wonderful and spiritually edifying Sunday!

Love,
Holley