The curtains of the bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them; as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in spirit at your elbow.
It was a strange figure—like a child; yet not so like a child as like an old an, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view, and being diminished to a child’s proportion. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrnle in it, ad the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were very long and muscular; the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength. Its legs and feet, ost delicately formed, were, like those upper members, bare. It wore a tunic of the purest white; and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which all this was visible; and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm.
Even this, though, when Scrooge looked at it with increasing steadiness, was not its strangest quality. For as it s belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant, at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in distinctness being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body; of which dissolving parts, no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again, distinct and clear as ever.
Well, this is clearly unfilmable as written. Oh, we have the gadgetry to do it, especially nowadays, but if you did produce a computer projection which reproduced exactly what Dickens had in mind, this representation of mingled and fading memories, no one could look at it for very long, while at the same time, few of us would have an eye for anything else happening onscreen. As is pointed out in The Annotated Christmas Carol, this is also the one ghost John Leech did not attempt to show us in his illustrations for the first edition of the book itself.
So Ghosts of Christmas Past come in a variety on the screen.
THE ORIGINAL
Sim II makes the attempt. This apparition is a girl (though Scrooge, true to the text, address it as “Sir”) who is chubby, thin, pump again, had one head, then two then three, then one again as her hands and arms wither and grow young again repeatedly. She carries a sprig of holly and a cap, and wears a skirt much plumped out by crinolines or ectoplasm. She has a sash, and walks barefoot. Her voice is that of a middle-aged woman.
MEN
Hicks gets a luminous outline of a man. Its voice is serene, and detached.
A blob of light in Sim I resolves itself into a benign old man with long white hair, wearing a white robe and cape. He is barefoot, with a glittering sash at his waist and a garland about his neck.
Rathbone, having just checked the locks on his door, turns to find a Biblical Patriarch fading into view. The figure, which wears a white robe and sash (and gloves), beckons.
Haddrick has an old man with a beard and a crozier. He wears a robe, and is the picture of a gentle elderly saint. His voice is high and slightly sepulchral.
Matthau meets a small old man with a slight resemblance to Jacob Marley. Rays of light rise from this ghost’s head in a sort of crown, and he wears a white brown with colored collar and cuffs, and a belt. In one hand he carries the cap, in the other a sprig of holly.
Stewart gets a small older manchild with long hair. His clothes are silvery-satiny, and he is luminescent, with an aura. He carries a cap and wears a necklace of holly. His clothes and face could make him a solemn official rom some distant medieval banquet, or a grave jester, or even a Muppet. His attitude is calm, slow, serene.
WOMEN
Owen watches as a lump of light resolves itself into a Hollywood ingenue auditioning for the role of Glinda the Good. She has golden ringlets, a nurse’s cap with a star on it, and a belted satin gown.
March is rousted from bed when his shutters fly open, allowing a cold wind to blow back his bedcurtains. He rises to close the shutters but a bright light alerts hi to strange doings. Turning, he finds a fresh-faced brunette with a smile. Her hair is pulled back under a shining circlet, and her plain white gown is cut rather daringly in front.
Magoo finds a girl (or just possibly a boy) with neatly bobbed blonde hair, a tunic and short skirt (or a long tunic belted in the middle) and shoes bound at the ankle. A flame rides above her head; she holds a sprig of holly in one hand.
Finney gets a very solid=looking matron in a fashionable red dress and very expensive hat. Her earrings glitter, and she wears a black choker. Hands clad in white gloves reside within a fur muff. She is very sure of herself, and obviously intends to take no nonsense from any Ebenezer Scrooge.
Scott meets a woman whose voice is older than her face. She wears a white robe with a sash of leaves. She is barefoot, a tad feral, and carries holly in one hand while that cap hangs from a ribbon attached at her waist.
THE ECCENTRIC
McDuck gets Jiminy Cricket.
Caine, after opening the bedcurtains himself and brandishing a poker, watches the light that woke hi coalesce into a diaphanous clump of white gauze with a girl’s head; this head has long blonde hair and a hat. The voice is that of a young girl; her hand, when she extends it to Scrooge, is that of a baby.
Curry gets an impudent pearlie who laughs WAY too much.
Blogsy Babbles 