— The Times
A Christmas Carolby Charles Dickens, Mary Kate McDevitt (Illustrator), Mark Peppe (Illustrator)
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One of the best-loved and most quoted stories of "the man who invented Christmas"-English writer Charles Dickens-A Christmas Carol debuted in 1843 and has touched millions of hearts since. Cruel miser Ebeneezer Scrooge has never met a shilling he doesn't like. . .and hardly a man he does. And he hates Christmas most of all. When Scrooge is visited by his old partner, Jacob Marley, and the ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas Yet to Come, he learns eternal lessons of charity, kindness, and goodwill. Experience a true Victorian Christmas!
— The Times
Gr 4 Up—While there are several versions of the holiday favorite to choose from, those wishing for a solidly classic telling will be more than satisfied with this complete edition. Hans Christian Andersen Award winner Innocenti renders the ink illustration masterfully. Whether the scenes feature a crowded city street; the frightening conversation between Scrooge and the transparent, white-outlined ghost of Marley; or a merry gathering at Fezziwig's warehouse, the detailed, Dickensian atmosphere is perfectly captured. Perspective plays an effective role as well, as when Scrooge's small and solitary head is first seen through the window of his office. The final image also depicts Scrooge through a window, but from the inside looking out into a sunny green field, with Tiny Tim standing close to the man who has become a second father. VERDICT All in all, a handsome, worthy addition to holiday reading traditions.—Joanna Fabicon, Los Angeles Public Library
Read an Excerpt
A new addition to the award-winning, enduring Puffin Classics line, Puffin Chalk is the next wave of classics in children’s literature. With colorful chalk designs that echo the whimsy of childhood, these collectible editions add beauty to the bookshelves of children and classics lovers alike.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
MARY KATE MCDEVITT is a letterer and illustrator living and working in Brooklyn, New York. She graduated from the Tyler School of Art with a degree in graphic design and illustration and has worked as a designer, freelance illustrator, and artist. Her work has been featured in Design*Sponge, Apartment Therapy, Etsy, and Bust magazine, among many others.
I have endeavoured in this Ghostly book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their house pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.
Their faithful Friend and Servant,
Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.
Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail.
Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he were partners for I don’t know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain.
The mention of Marley’s funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet’s Father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot – say Saint Paul’s Churchyard for instance – literally to astonish his son’s weak mind.
Scrooge never painted out Old Marley’s name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names: it was all the same to him.
Oh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, 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, shrivelled 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.
External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, nor wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn’t know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often ‘came down’ handsomely, and Scrooge never did.
Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, ‘My dear Scrooge, how are you? when will you come to see me?’ No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o’clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blindmen’s dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, ‘No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master!’
But what did Scrooge care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call ‘nuts’ to Scrooge.
Once upon a time – of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve – old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement-stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already: it had not been light all day: and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, and was brewing on a large scale.
The door of Scrooge’s counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk’s fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn’t replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.
‘A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!’ cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.
‘Bah!’ said Scrooge, ‘Humbug!’
He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.
‘Christmas a humbug, uncle!’ said Scrooge’s nephew. ‘You don’t mean that, I am sure?’
‘I do,’ said Scrooge. ‘Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.’
‘Come, then,’ returned the nephew gaily. ‘What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.’
Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, ‘Bah!’ again; and followed it up with ‘Humbug’.
‘Don’t be cross, uncle,’ said the nephew.
‘What else can I be,’ returned the uncle, ‘when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas! What’s Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in ’em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will,’ said Scrooge, indignantly, ‘every idiot who goes about with “Merry Christmas”, on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!’
‘Uncle!’ pleaded the nephew.
‘Nephew!’ returned the uncle, sternly, ‘keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.’
‘Keep it!’ repeated Scrooge’s nephew. ‘But you don’t keep it.’
‘Let me leave it alone, then,’ said Scrooge. ‘Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!’
‘There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,’ returned the nephew: ‘Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round – apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that – as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!’
The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded: becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark for ever.
‘Let me hear another sound from you,’ said Scrooge, ‘and you’ll keep your Christmas by losing your situation. You’re quite a powerful speaker, sir,’ he added, turning to his nephew. ‘I wonder you don’t go into Parliament.’
‘Don’t be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us tomorrow.’
Scrooge said that he would see him – yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first.
‘But why?’ cried Scrooge’s nephew. ‘Why?’
‘Why did you get married?’ said Scrooge.
‘Because I fell in love.’
‘Because you fell in love!’ growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. ‘Good afternoon!’
‘Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?’
‘Good afternoon,’ said Scrooge.
‘I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?’
‘Good afternoon,’ said Scrooge.
‘I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I’ll keep my Christmas humour to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!’
‘Good afternoon,’ said Scrooge.
‘And A Happy New Year!’
‘Good afternoon!’ said Scrooge.
His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greetings of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially.
‘There’s another fellow,’ muttered Scrooge; who overheard him: ‘my clerk, with fifteen shillings a-week, and a wife and family, talking about a merry Christmas. I’ll retire to Bedlam.’
This lunatic, in letting Scrooge’s nephew out, had let two other people in. They were portly gentlemen, pleasant to behold, and now stood, with their hats off, in Scrooge’s office. They had books and papers in their hands, and bowed to him.
‘Scrooge and Marley’s, I believe,’ said one of the gentlemen, referring to his list. ‘Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr Scrooge, or Mr Marley?’
‘Mr Marley has been dead these seven years,’ Scrooge replied. ‘He died seven years ago, this very night.’
‘We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner,’ said the gentleman, presenting his credentials.
It certainly was; for they had been two kindred spirits. At the ominous word ‘liberality’, Scrooge frowned, and shook his head, and handed the credentials back.
‘At this festive season of the year, Mr Scrooge,’ said the gentleman, taking up a pen, ‘it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.’
‘Are there no prisons?’ asked Scrooge.
‘Plenty of prisons,’ said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.
‘And the Union workhouses?’ demanded Scrooge. ‘Are they still in operation?’
‘They are. Still,’ returned the gentleman, ‘I wish I could say they were not.’
‘The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?’ said Scrooge.
‘Both very busy,’
‘Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course,’ said Scrooge. ‘I’m very glad to hear it.’
‘Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude,’ returned the gentleman, ‘a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?’
‘Nothing!’ Scrooge replied.
‘You wish to be anonymous?’
‘I wish to be left alone,’ said Scrooge. ‘Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas, and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.’
‘Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.’
‘If they would rather die,’ said Scrooge, ‘they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides – excuse me – I don’t know that.’
‘But you might know it,’ observed the gentleman.
‘It’s not my business,’ Scrooge returned. ‘It’s enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people’s. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen!’
Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their point, the gentlemen withdrew. Scrooge resumed his labours with an improved opinion of himself, and in a more facetious temper than was usual with him.
What People are Saying About This
"It has it all: a spooky ghost story, a heartwarming redemption, and a great plot with a satisfyingly ending." Times
Meet the Author
After a childhood blighted by poverty, commercial success came early to Charles Dickens (1812–70). By the age of 24, he was an international sensation whose new novels were eagerly anticipated. Two centuries later, Dickens' popularity endures as readers revel in the warm humanity and rollicking humor of his tales of self-discovery.
- Date of Birth:
- February 7, 1812
- Date of Death:
- June 18, 1870
- Place of Birth:
- Portsmouth, England
- Place of Death:
- Gad's Hill, Kent, England
- Home-schooling; attended Dame School at Chatham briefly and Wellington
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Do you celebrate Christmas? Well if you don't your on the same level as Scrooge the main character of A Christmas Carol. Charles Dickens created a true masterpiece when he wrote A Christmas Carol, telling a story of a man who had to decide what is right to change his future. This fictitious story really gets the gears in your head turning. Scrooge is a very mean man in 1800s London. His business partner, Marley, dies at the very beginning of the story and later visits scrooge as a ghost. He tells Scrooge he will be visited by three ghosts. The Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. They take him through different parts of his life. All three have different personalities. Charles Dickens gives great details of the characters without telling you directly. Throughout the whole story Charles dickens keeps you wanting more of the story line and makes sense with the book. Overall it's a great book with sophisticated words, and I would recommend this book for all readers.
I read this book every year around the holidays and really enjoy it every time. I have seen many versions of the story such as Scrooge and a Christmas Carol in movies but nothing beats the book.
Enhanced means : Intensify, increase, or further improve the quality, value or extent of. So by an enhanced book they probably mean that it has error-text, no huge spaces between paragraphs. Stuff like that. It just means that they fixed it up so that you can enjoy it more. By the way, this is an amazing book. You should get it. Hope that i was of assistance to you.
It was a nice holiday story to finish out Christmas season. What was really nice was being able to listen to the audio and hear the story behind the story.
I love this book and the style of writing (Charles Dickens did, after all, write this in the 19th century) Eerie...and I was surprised by the way it really made me feel chills! But this book isn't just about the ghosts, it has a great moral of the story with a nice ending!
Really enjoyed this enchanced version, added more insight about the author. Enjoyed this classic book very much!
The audiobook mentioned was a selling point for me. It isn't a file, but a text internet address on the very last page of the ebook that the nook does not recognize as a hyperlink. Apparently this guy Sam Ngo went and found the free ebook with illustrations and also found a free audiobook file on an archive website somewhere and wrote out the file's internet address on the last page of the book and epub'd it. You would have to look up the file online from your computer, download the audiobook and physically hook up your nook to transfer the file from your computer to your nook. So why pay this guy 1.99? Just go out and find the free files yourself. Probably deleting this. Oh and you have to laugh when the guy says "money back guaranteed... just email us" and then he doesn't give you and email address.
Just in time for the Christmas Holiday. We really enjoyed it!!
Great for everyone
I give the book 3 starts because the story alone merits 5. The two stars I took away are because, while the book may be leather-bound, it is soft cover. Nothing in the description had alerted me to this. I have built up a decent collection of B&N Leatherbound classics and this is the first time I have been displeased with the quality of one of the books. I would still recommend buying it, but know that this is not like most of the other leatherbound classics.
For as often as I've seen the movies, I've never read the book and decided that this was the time to change that. A quick read, I only 200 pages on my Nook, but I was enthrall end with each word and quite surprised by how funny it was! Dickens isn't exactly famous for his sense of humor but the warmth, compassion and empathy that you really only see all in a rush at the end of te movie, has a chance to build slowly but surely in the book. Do yourself a favor - pick this one up and read it. I'm sure I'll read it again every Christmas season.
I love the story Christmas Carol and have it in every media you can get by everyone you can think of from the muppets to albert finney, but had never read the book so when I got my NOOK tablet for Christmas and so this I said it time to read the book or at least listen and I did both and it is still the most wonderful story at Christmas.
Best christmas book ever its a great classic book
The Introduction by Hal Moroz is a Blessing! It not only brings this wonderful Christmas classic by Charles Dickens back to life, it reminds us of the reason for the season! I highly recommend it to every family that wants to live the Christmas Spirit not only on December 25th, but throughout the year!
If you don't know about this book you should read it! It is full of christmas spirt and joy. Any kid or grown up will Love this book greatly.
It was okay but it was good over all. But it didn't really keep my atention at all, most of the time.
a really good book and if you are not sure about the qaulity of the book then dont worry it is good
I thought it wss a good book. I liked him being good instead of bad aka Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Bah! Humbug!” Set in Victorian England, this classic Christmas tale of reclamation and redemption by Charles Dickens features Ebenezer Scrooge, a bitter, greedy old miser, who is visited by the specter of his dead partner, Jacob Marley. Dickens skillfully weaves the story of Scrooge’s life through the visits of the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, and in the end we all learn that the true meaning of Christmas is love, joy, and brotherhood for our fellow man. Dickens is a masterful storyteller, and Christmas Carol is a masterful tale well worth the read. Rebecca E.
Awesome book Frightening, sadness, and calmness all at the same time. ;)
Good classic read for the holidays. Love the linked chapter contexts in the front of the book.
Had never read an unabridged edition of this little classic. That I read it prior to Easter and not Christmas is a reminder of its enduring worth any time of year.
It is the day before Christmas and im reading this