PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS

Evening Star, Issue 22526, 19 December 1936, Page 2

PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS

[Written by Mary Scott, for the ‘Evening Star.’]

Christmas is actually upon us at last. In another day or tvro wo shall bo able to draw a long breath of mingled regret and relief, and say, “ It’s over for another year.” It seems a pity that tliis should be the inevitable reaction of so many people to the Festival, but the majority of grown-ups, particularly of parents, rejoice with secret misgiving at its approach, and are thankful when it has passed. Such is hut another achievement of our great commercial age. Truth to tell, for the last week many of us have been saying, “ If only it would hurry up and be over ” —rather as if it wore an operation for appendicitis or a tragic parting that has been hanging over us too long. It is such a terribly strenuous affair—all this eating and drinking, this pre-sent-giving and receiving, the haunting anxiety lest one fourth cousin bo forgotten or one Christmas card not repaid properly and in kind. Sometimes it appears as if Christmas has been coming all our lives—but that is only when we have lost our list for the fourth time. Certainly this particular celebration dawned above the horizon a good many months ago. For all that time kindly people have been working hard with only one thought, that we should all be able to give each other really suitable or useful or economical or beautiful presents, according to the views of the advertiser. How long is it since the Christmas card artist in England heaved a portentous sigh and set to work to paint another snow-and-holly scene? Certainly he must have been toiling away at it in the sweltering heat of the English summer. When did the calendar designer begin to search for suitable quotations for 1937 ? They probably first worried him just about January 1, 1936. As for the writer of Christmas stories—well, having myself received commissions as early as last March, I should imagine that the English'author of Christmas books has practically no reprieve from one December till the next. Let us hope he attacks his subject with evergreen enthusiasm. And these are the merest drops in the ocean* Think for a moment of the hundreds of people at work—the jewellers, the knitters, the manufacturers of crackers, imitation pearls, and fountain pens, the confectioners, the endless stream of inventors of toys and puzzles, of a million devices for making this complicated life of ours even more complicated. One aim, they all have in common, ‘‘to be ready for the Christman market.” How well I know it, for I, too, am this year among the sellers. “ Your book must ho ready for the English Christmas market—presents tosend Home and all that sort of thing,” they told mo. Not merely as a seller, but as a buyer, I was appropriately harassed; first the papers were full of reminders about that English mail; then notices began to appear, only 19 more days’ shopping before Christmas,” “ only another nine days ”; then “ Be in time.” in ever larger and more breathless notices, until ip the last week all those reminding voices rose through a gradual crescendo to a veritable pitch of frenzy. Naturally they did their work. All very well to say, “ I don’t believe in this commercial Christmas,” or “_T mean to have an easy Christmas this year; no presents except to the family.” Presently you find yourself caught up in the general enthusiasm, the universal passion for spending, the delight in giving for giving’s sake, the age-old fun and happiness of Christmas. You rush wildly through the shops all day and lio awake at night trying to make your accounts balance and “ thinking of the right present for everybody.” At least there are plenty of people ready to help you, although from a multitude of counsellors less wisdom than confusion emerges. From one page of your paper a charming girl wheedles: “Give her chocolates”; on the next a business-like woman urges you to “ Make it cigarettes ” ; in the next column a mammoth leg warns you not to disappoint her—“ she is expecting stockings.” You turn the pages feverishly, deciding to leave the eldest daughter for the moment and decide for the Man of the House; a vision in plus-fours tells you to “ Give him golf clubs”; another, adopting an easier, more comradely style, says that “A pipe is always right,” while a third)— and all on the same page—warns you: “Be careful of duplicating—but you cant’s give him too many ties ” —or collars, or handkerchiefs, or safety razors—or almost anything. It is alt so convincing, so impressively commanding. To one who _is never quite sure of her own mind in presentgiving and most woefully unsure of anyone - else’s, all these imperatives carry immense weight. They are not always even polite about it; some of them adopt almost a sneering tone, while some hector you into meekness. But one and all they know their job —and yours—ever so much better than yon do. Sometimes, it is true, you lose your head and your list, return without the cigarettes because you ean’t remember her brand, or the tie because for the moment even the colour of your husband’s eyes eludes you—and buy bath salts and bedroom slippers in sheer self-defence. You glance in the booksellers’ windows and feel yourself branded for ever as ignoramus if you don’t get her a book, or an oldfashioned mother if you don’t purchase a goodly supply of powder. At last you creep home aware that the fault is not with the purveyors of Christmas goods, but only with your bank balance. So it goes on, the pace becoming ever faster, until in the last few d'ays before Christmas you wear a harassed and furtive air and turn your paper quickly, trying not to catch the heavilylashed and attractive eye of the cigarette girl, and to avoid the contemptuout glance of the young man dangling super, ties. Your money has gone, you are already in debt, and are daily more conscious of being a failure as a pre-sent-giver, If you started early you regretfully note all the late bargains that you have missed; if you left your shopping till the last week you are too late for all the most original ideas. Yet is there no cessation in the bombardment ; every mail brings either presents that mean other presents, or advertisements of yet more presents that you should give. Every shop front is bursting with suggestions; every hoarding is laden with commands. Long ere now yo.ur determination to buy slowly, wisely, carefully, has gone by the board; you are plunging wildly, telling yourself that “it will do fox someone,” fortunate if you do not have to rush out on Christmas Eve because your lists are mixed and Great-aunt Ellen is forgotten. But a nagging little doubt troubles you. You have been hearing and reading so much about “ the buying public ” as distinct from the providers of Christmas goods; yet everyone you know, including yourself, seems to be busy providing. Then where is the public? The tradespeople? Emphatically no; one and all they are luring you on to purchase. The professional

classes? No.t the vicar, -who is heavily immersed! in preparations for the festival ; not the doctor, who will probably put in a heavy day attending to Christmas dinner casualties; nor the lawyer, who will be needed to see you safely through your resultant bankruptcy. Amongst the arts? Not'the journalist, who has been trying for the last eight months to supply articles “ with Christmas flavour preferred”; nor the illustrator,' who has been sketching holly and mistletoe “ad nauseam”; nor the poet, who has been throwing oh _a modernist trifle jeering at the old sentimentalities, for which he hopes to receive enough to buy his little daughter a Christmas stocking; nor the photographer, whose camera has almost burst its lens with reporting Christmas smiles and family groups. No, not among the arts. Still, he does exist, or for whom all these gigantic preparations. There must be some plutocratic class, not, of course, counting the children, who are all plutocrats in heedless infancy, who simply enjoy Christmas without either working for it or providing for it. Well, wherever ho is, good luck to him and a merry Christmas. He will have earned it and paid for it!