|
|
| SCROOGE TIMES
December 18, 1997NEWSHOUR TRANSCRIPT |
|---|
Some seasonal thoughts about Ebenezer Scrooge from essayist Roger Rosenblatt.
ROGER ROSENBLATT: There used to be four things you do with money: spend it, keep it, increase it, or give it away. Now, modern American culture seems to have come up with a new activity. You can think about money, which is exactly what everyone is encouraged to do. Television devotes two entire networks to financial news. There are several nightly business reports. On every news or quasi news show a money manager frequently advises the public about getting richer. Where once there were lofty magazines like Fortune and Forbes, now there are dozens of down and dirty rags like Smart Money. The Wall Street Journal is riding high. The Clinton administration is riding high. Ask George Bush why that is so.
It's the money, stupid. In fact, money is stupid. It is necessary; it is nice to have; but as an entity, itself, money is and should be thought of as boring. Yet, apparently, the country is enthralled by it. This is a good time of year to wonder about this tendency--Christmas, I mean, when we will, as we do every year, watch at least one movie version of fiction's most celebrated money man, Ebenezer Scrooge.
ACTOR: At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute.
EBENEZER SCROOGE: Are there no prisons?
ROGER ROSENBLATT: There is a sad truth about Scrooge that no one likes to mention because it runs counter to the Christmas spirit. But the fact is that Scrooge was most compelling as a character before he was converted to goodness. He wasn't likeable or admirable; but he was different; he was odd; he was a miser. He liked to think about money.
ACTOR: What can I put you down for?
EBENEZER SCROOGE: Nothing.
ROGER ROSENBLATT: Until recently, the idea of being fascinated with something as intrinsically dull as money made people like Ebenezer Scrooge seem unusual. Today everybody is a little like Scrooge--not selfish necessarily, but given to crediting money with a lot more importance than it deserves. Even the richest people in history had the good sense to realize that money was only interesting in proportion to the things one could do with it. Thus, San Simeon, thus all those cozy cottages in Southampton and Newport, and along New York's Fifth Avenue; thus, the holding of the Astors, the Vanderbilts, and of course, the Rockefellers. In order for Christmas to be associated with the Rockefellers in New York, first there had to be a Rockefeller Center. The way the old billionaires used their money may not have ben especially inventive, but at least it was used. My own favorite historical rich person was the Englishman Lord Berners, who installed a piano in his Rolls Royce and invited a horse to tea. These folks, of course, were rich as Croesus, however rich he was, and very odd ducks to boot. What happens, though, when every ordinary Jack and Jill is presented with a culture that declares money is significant? I am not suggesting that one ought to follow Thoreau into the woods. Some portion of one's gray matter has to be given over to green matter as a matter of necessity and security and blah, blah, blah. But to actually think about money really is blah, blah, blah.
Divorced from function it cannot compare to thinking about art, or sex, or sports, or politics, or nature, or God, or other people. Ah, yes, other people. One of the dangers in taking money seriously is that it may get in the way of taking people seriously--seriously. Who would have believed that of all the potential lessons to have emerged from a Christmas Carol the most durable would turn out to be Scrooge in his dark dullness?
EBENEZER SCROOGE: You want the whole day off tomorrow, I suppose?
ACTOR: If quite convenient, sir.
EBENEZER SCROOGE: It's not convenient, and it's not fair.
ROGER ROSENBLATT: With the rich wide universe outside his door, filled with people he could help if he lifted a finger, he remained closeted in the gloomy contemplation of paper and coins. What a waste, suggested Dickens, and how fitting for the darkest time of year, when all that Scrooge ever had to do was turn off the TV, put down the magazines, step out into the light, and embrace the needy world.
I'm Roger Rosenblatt.
 |
        |
|
| Support the kind of journalism done by the NewsHour...Become a member of your local PBS station. | ||
| ||
| PBS Online Privacy Policy Copyright ©1996- MacNeil/Lehrer Productions. All Rights Reserved. | ||
| ||
