Tuesday, November 20, 2012

November 20: Scant Young Nose, Gnawed by Dogs, Saint Cecilia

The owner of one scant young nose, gnawed and mumbled by the hungry cold as bones are gnawed by dogs, stopped by Scrooge's keyhole to regale him with a Christmas carol:  but at the first sound of

     "God bless you, merry gentleman!
      May nothing you dismay!"

Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action, that the singer fled in terror, leaving the keyhole to the fog and even more congenial frost.

This passage is just one of many instances during the course of the novel in which a song is sung.  As I've pointed out before, music and singing are central motifs of the book.  The carols recall childhood and innocence and, sometimes, poverty and want.  The beggar boy above sings.  Tiny Tim sings.  At one point, an old lighthouse keeper sings.

As a poet and musician, I appreciate this aspect of Dickens' tale.  Some of my best memories of childhood involve music.  When I took naps as a child, my mother would put a Doris Day LP on her record player, and I would fall asleep to "Once I had a secret love..."  Many of my Christmas memories revolve around music, as well.  Choirs I've sung with.  Midnight masses.  Candlelight and Christmas Eve and "Silent Night."  Music connects all people.

November 22 is the feast day of Cecilia.  Cecilia is the patron saint of musicians, poets, and singers.  At an early age, she made a vow of virginity.  Even though her parents married her off to a nobleman named Valerian, Cecilia preserved her vow.  She converted her husband to Christianity.  I have no idea what her connections to poetry and music are.  However, they must be significant.  I can tell you that Cecilia and her husband were both martyred for their beliefs somewhere between the years 161 and 193 A.D.

Music is the great equalizer.  It provides solace for the lonely, joy for the despairing, and hope for the hopeless.  It can put children to sleep.  It can make them feel safe and loved.  Saint Cecilia knew that.  Charles Dickens knew that.

Saint Marty knows that, too.  Sing with him:  "Que sera, sera.  Whatever will be, will be..."

Doris knew that, too

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