Christmas Eve   By: Robert Browning (1812-1889)

In Robert Browning's collection of poems, Christmas Eve, he transports readers to the enchanting world of Christmas, offering a unique perspective on the holiday season. Through his lyrical and imaginative storytelling, Browning skillfully captures the essence of this special time of year, evoking a multitude of emotions that range from joy and love to contemplation and introspection.

The collection is divided into two parts, aptly named "Christmas Eve" and "Christmas Day." In the first part, Browning introduces readers to the lively hustle and bustle of London on a wintry Christmas Eve. Using rich imagery and vivid descriptions, he paints a vibrant picture of the city, permeated with the spirit of the season. From bustling streets to exuberant celebrations, readers are immersed in the infectious excitement that surrounds Christmas.

Browning delves into the human experience, delving into themes of love, faith, and redemption throughout the collection. The narrative follows a disillusioned protagonist who embarks on a journey of self-discovery as he confronts his doubts and grapples with the complexity of life. Through encounters with various characters, Browning explores philosophical questions, pondering the nature of faith and the purpose of existence. The introspective tone adds depth to the collection, inviting readers to reflect on their own beliefs and values during this introspective time of year.

One of the most notable aspects of Browning's Christmas Eve is his mastery of poetic techniques. His use of rhythm, meter, and rhyme scheme adds musicality to the verses, enhancing the reading experience. The poetry flows effortlessly, capturing the reader's attention from the very first stanza and holding it until the final lines. Browning's skillful employment of imagery also adds layers of meaning to his words, creating a tapestry of emotions that resonates deeply with the reader.

While Browning's collection may not adhere to the conventional themes usually associated with Christmas literature, it offers a refreshing and thought-provoking perspective on the holiday. It reminds us that beneath the glitz and glamour, Christmas is a time for introspection, reflection, and renewal. Browning's evocative verses will appeal to readers seeking a more profound exploration of the holiday season, ultimately leaving them with a renewed appreciation for the joy, love, and wonder that Christmas brings.

First Page:

Out of the little chapel I burst Into the fresh night air again. Five minutes full, I waited first In the doorway, to escape the rain That drove in gusts down the common's centre At the edge of which the chapel stands, Before I plucked up heart to enter. Heaven knows how many sorts of hands Reached past me, groping for the latch Of the inner door that hung on catch More obstinate the more they fumbled, Till, giving way at last with a scold Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled One sheep more to the rest in fold, And left me irresolute, standing sentry In the sheepfold's lath and plaster entry, Six feet long by three feet wide, Partitioned off from the vast inside I blocked up half of it at least. No remedy; the rain kept driving. They eyed me much as some wild beast, That congregation, still arriving, Some of them by the main road, white A long way past me into the night, Skirting the common, then diverging; Not a few suddenly emerging From the common's self thro' the paling gaps They house in the gravel pits perhaps, Where the road stops short with its safeguard border Of lamps, as tired of such disorder; But the most turned in yet more abruptly From a certain squalid knot of alleys, Where the town's bad blood once slept corruptly, Which now the little chapel rallies And leads into day again, its priestliness Lending itself to hide their beastliness So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason), And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on Those neophytes too much in lack of it, That, where you cross the common as I did, And meet the party thus presided, "Mount Zion" with Love lane at the back of it, They front you as little disconcerted As, bound for the hills, her fate averted, And her wicked people made to mind him, Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him... Continue reading book >>