One of my favorite Christmas songs is "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," written in 1943 by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blaine; it became a standard, albeit with altered lyrics, when it was sung by Judy Garland in the 1944 film, Meet Me In Saint Louis.
The original song began as follows:
Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
it may be your last
Can you imagine a more un-American way to begin a song than with these opening lines? America, which has been the global Jingle Bells bellwether, spreading its sometimes mindless gospel of optimism around the world. Since the 1920s, America has swept death under the table; in this song, which, despite death and destruction (the song, I remind you, was written in 1943, when the defeat of fascism was far from certain), advocates having a Merry Christmas, albeit a little one, now.
The opening lines remind one of the mementos mori of 'yore.' I imagine the following scene: a small family sits around a holiday table determined to celebrate despite everything. (The shades are drawn in anticipation of a possible air raid). One of the family members, feeling that the festive mood is a bit forced, lifts up the bright-green Christmas tablecloth, to see, as it were, what underlies the roasted turkey on the table. Suddenly he sees a skull, staring back from sockets which once sheltered eyes. Nevertheless, he lets the cloth fall back and continues the celebration with an ambiguous smile on his face.
This is not Schubert's Winterreise, however; the song does indeed celebrate life despite its negative aspects.
The song ends with the following lines:
Faithful friends who were near to us
will be near to us no more.
But at least we all will be together,
if the Lord allows,
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow;
so have yourself a merry little Christmas now.
(Italics mine.)
Uh-oh. There is at least a potential problem here. The song posits an afterlife compared to which all the suffering of this life is a mere 'flash in the pan.' Many moderns, myself included, have at best a very uneasy relationship with anything that sounds like 'pie-in-the sky.' For us the sky extends in all directions for unimaginably long distances; we might look up at the universe and smile, but there is absolutely no evidence that the universe will ever smile back.
Is there room for optimism? You bet; remember, I'm writing a basically upbeat message. If we are involved with work which has a positive effect on society; if we focus on relationships; if we focus on loving our neighbor as ourselves; if we realize that everything is connected (wisdom), we will experience profound joy--at least to the degree that these habits are assiduously practiced. If one lives life in this way, one becomes inevitably spiritual, loving, and wise. What better fulfilment can one hope to have?
All right, let's admit it. The self is an illusion; elements within us, albeit in different proportions, are the same elements in the outside world. Bergson was wrong; there is no life principle that animates flesh. Evolution developed a sense of self for survival purposes--and, 'thank God' it did, for without it the glories of culture and science, etc, would not have been possible. But that's the subject of another essay, one, in fact, that I've already written.
Let's return to having a merry little Christmas. The song, as we have seen, advocates the celebration of life despite its negative aspects. The latter aspects are always there; they shouldn't, however, stop us from making merry periodically. When negativity looms larger, though, Christmases become more and more little.
We are, alas! living in such an age now. Climate change, the result of untrammeled greed, (in which, by the way, so many of our problems have their origin), assures that we cannot continue living lives of mindless consumption. (How can it be that the world is run by ostriches with their heads in the sand--sand, by the way, that was once, not long ago, fertile soil?)
Climate change, of course, is not the only major problem. Inequality has reached painful levels. For instance, the richest country in the world has yet to provide its citizens with universal health care! In a country plagued by violence, we have yet to pass meaningful gun-control legislation! Our country, like much of the world, is almost hopelessly divided! The great American experiment, democracy, is in grave danger!
Serious problems indeed.
We must simplify our lives. Climate change demands it. Chicken littles eating beef while the sky is falling...Is it too late?
It is never too late.
If we opened Pandora's box now, I imagine that a Trumpy puppet would pop up like a Mad Hatter Jack-in-the-Box. But hope, that thing with feathers, would still remain.
Never give up trying to make this world a better place. Have faith and be thankful; love and wisdom will get us through somehow. In other words, have yourself a merry little Christmas now.
It may be your last.
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