Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour...
Mrs. Cratchit is never given a first name. In A Christmas Carol, we have Ebenezer, Bob, Fred, Fan, Belle, Jacob, Tiny Tim. Even Bob's children are given first names: Belinda and Peter and Martha and company. Mrs. Cratchit remains simply Mrs. Cratchit through the entire book.
Of course, there have been literary explanations for this fact. My favorite, and the one to which I give the most credence, is that Charles Dickens created in Bob and Tiny Tim his version of the Virgin Mary and Christ Child. Dickens is writing a Christmas story. Tiny Tim does carry a little crutch, which is very close to a cross. Bob's last name is very close to the word "creche," which is another term for "manger." In all the illustrations for A Christmas Carol, Bob and Tim are shown together, in poses very similar to illustrations of Mary and the Christ child. Mrs. Cratchit takes a back seat in this narrative, very similarly to the way Joseph takes a back seat in the Jesus narrative.
Mrs. Cratchit, in the passage above, reminds me of just about every mother/grandmother/aunt/mother figure I know. Mrs. Cratchit's pudding is good, but she has to list its failings: the quantity of flour. My wife's grandmother used to point out the defects of every one of her Thanksgiving meals--the turkey was too dry; she forgot the dinner rolls; or the mashed potatoes were lumpy. Mothers don't ever accept the accolades that are given to them. I think it's a mother's belief that she can never do well enough for her family.
The other thing about Mrs. Cratchit is that she is, basically, anonymous. She is everyone's mother. If your mother's name is/was "Frances," then she could be Frances Cratchit. If your mother's name is/was "Olive," then she could be Olive Cratchit. I'm not sure if that was Dickens' intention for not naming Mrs. Cratchit, but let's run with it.
On this Mother's Day weekend, Saint Marty salutes all the anonymous Mrs. Cratchits in the world. And he salutes the Mrs. Cratchits of his life, Betty and Beth.
Confessions of Saint Marty
Poet...Musician...Thinker...Blogger...Teacher...Husband...Father...I'm not perfect, but I try!
Showing posts with label Mrs. Cratchit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mrs. Cratchit. Show all posts
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
January 23: Carol Dipping Again, Ice Storm, Teaching
Well, this morning, as soon as I got moving, I decided to try Carol dipping one more time. I thought it was an interesting exercise yesterday afternoon, and it yielded some thoughtful reflection on my part (plus a good comment).
So, this morning, my question was: Will my teaching go well today?
The answer from A Christmas Carol was:
"Well! Never mind so long as you are come," said Mrs. Cratchit. "Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye!"
Mrs. Cratchit makes this statement to her oldest daughter, Martha, on Christmas Day. Martha, it appears, lives and works outside the Cratchit home. Martha explains to her mother about the work that caused her to be late for Christmas dinner, and Mrs. Cratchit gives the above response.
Now, the dilemma is how to interpret this answer to my question. Of course, the obvious interpretation is that, as long as I show up, my teaching will go well, and I should just sit down and relax a little. I do like that attitude. I tend to become a little too tense about teaching, worrying about lesson plans and readings, preparing and preparing again. The best classes I've ever taught were the ones where I just stepped into the room with a vague plan about what I wanted to accomplish. I'm on my toes, and the students are engaged.
The other, more appropriate, interpretation (at the moment) is that I shouldn't worry about teaching. Classes were cancelled at the university a few minutes ago due to an ice storm. Therefore, I should just sit down before the fire and have a warm, as Mrs. Cratchit says. I like that answer a little better.
My day has suddenly opened up. No teaching. No university office hours. No school for my kids. No religion or dance classes for my daughter. I am considerably free of obligations today. Not free of work, but of obligations.
Saint Marty is going to have a good day.
So, this morning, my question was: Will my teaching go well today?
The answer from A Christmas Carol was:
"Well! Never mind so long as you are come," said Mrs. Cratchit. "Sit ye down before the fire, my dear, and have a warm, Lord bless ye!"
Mrs. Cratchit makes this statement to her oldest daughter, Martha, on Christmas Day. Martha, it appears, lives and works outside the Cratchit home. Martha explains to her mother about the work that caused her to be late for Christmas dinner, and Mrs. Cratchit gives the above response.
Now, the dilemma is how to interpret this answer to my question. Of course, the obvious interpretation is that, as long as I show up, my teaching will go well, and I should just sit down and relax a little. I do like that attitude. I tend to become a little too tense about teaching, worrying about lesson plans and readings, preparing and preparing again. The best classes I've ever taught were the ones where I just stepped into the room with a vague plan about what I wanted to accomplish. I'm on my toes, and the students are engaged.
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| Care to have a warm with me? |
My day has suddenly opened up. No teaching. No university office hours. No school for my kids. No religion or dance classes for my daughter. I am considerably free of obligations today. Not free of work, but of obligations.
Saint Marty is going to have a good day.
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