Most people have seen one or more versions of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.
Hands down, it is among my favorite Christmas tales: the story of Ebenezer Scrooge having his conscience reawakened through the apparition of his former partner, Jacob Marley, and the ghosts of Christmases past, present and future.
I like the characters.
I like the Victorian-era Christmas charm, complete with frosted windows, mistletoe and plum pudding.
I love the streets of Old London.
But when I first read the novel itself, after viewing various editions of the movie, I was shocked. Scrooge was not the buffoonish, almost cartoon-like character some of the movies made him out to be.
He was genuinely evil. Cruel. Malicious. He was a dark and sinister man. The story actually reads more like a Stephen King novel.
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