In looking for an online version of this novelette I noticed that something by the same name had been published online in 2013, but various information at that time suggested that the work had been expanded and adapted for the anthology so I presumed it was still eligible. It's since been decided by the Hugo committee that the works are too similar, and thus ineligible for nomination. My review stands, of course.
“Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus” by John C. Wright, published in The Book of Feasts & Seasons anthology (Castalia House) 2014 (online)
Eligibility:
Status:
This is the editorial voice review. The reader's voice review is forthcoming. (for info on what this means, see here)
First thoughts
The story starts fairly strong, and although the title and the opening scene make it nearly painfully obvious what’s going to happen there still seems to be plenty of room to manoeuvre and deliver an interesting surprise or two. The author shows good control of language throughout, but his skill is marred by some odd story choices, particularly some jarring editorialising he thrusts into the middle of the tale and the rather heavy handed way the religious message is delivered (because let’s make no mistake that this is an evangelical story). The religious message itself is not problematic, and the author’s choice to use an icon of Christmas as a sterile festival of commercialisation as his vehicle is actually interesting, but between the awkward attempt at the grandeur of biblical language and the haphazard way he deploys the mythology and history of Saint Nicholas the story never really reaches the potential promised in the first page.
Ideas
Bluntly put, this is an evangelical Christmas story with strong religious themes and thus may not suit everybody. The ideas deployed are entirely religious in nature, but they’re also solid philosophical questions and the scenario the author starts from is a familiar one from which to explore them. The author seems to be playing with three perspectives here: the secular mother, for whom the whole thing is a sham, the empty commercial festival that Christmas has become for most people, and the deeply religious Christmas that he clearly feels most sympathy for. These three concepts come into conflict early on, but the author’s agenda takes over and undermines what might have been a rather interesting conversation among them. The failure to properly interrogate the opposing ideas feels like a serious loss of what could have been a strong discussion of the value of a religious Christmas. This doesn’t seem to be what the author had in mind, though, and he moves smoothly into a rather heavy handed exchange between the protagonist and St. Nicholas “the evangelist.” This kind of “philosophical mouthpiece” isn’t necessarily a problem in fiction, but the author’s approach is clumsy, and it almost seems as though he might have just taken bits and pieces of actual sermons and put quotation marks around them, so direct is the script he’s working from. In short, the ideas are delivered but not explored or really even justified. Finally, the author also injects editorial comment on the relative worth of different types of people – essentially, civilians and service-people (whether military or otherwise). Other aspects of the story made me want to charitably assume the author’s intention here was to address the “acts vs deeds” issues long discussed in Christian theology but ultimately I was forced to conclude that he was just shotgunning bits and pieces of his worldview into the story for good measure, and the ideas are ultimately not only not explored but not apparently relevant to the story.
Writing
On the whole, the writing is good. The opening scene is quite poignantly put, and immediately evokes sympathy for the protagonist. It’s a bit of a cheap trick to present us with a mother bereft as a means to engage us, but you have to admit it works. Symbols heavy with traditional Christian meaning are deployed liberally and effectively, and he does a good job of creating the dichotomy between shallow commercialism and religious experience. The weighty “vision in distress” style of the scenes he paints is a bit exhausting, but after a bit of thought it does seem to be appropriate to the subject matter. The allusions to A Christmas Carol work for me as well, particularly as they resonate with “high church” imagery for this sort of scene. Again, though, we discover the author’s blind spots when it comes to some of the events described, in particular the “wonder working” moments when St. Nicholas evokes visions of certain miracles of the past. He seems to be uncertain how much familiarity the reader can be assumed to have, providing descriptions that seem to be too much exposition for an audience already on board, and tool little for an audience not already intimately familiar with the stories in question. Worse, what could have been very moving moments in the story are destroyed by the way in which he tosses them down like the triumphant lawyer in the movies tossing manila envelopes filled with evidence. How is the reader supposed to take the protagonist’s epiphany seriously when the depth and power of the experience she’s supposedly having is treated in such a cavalier fashion? Beyond mere word-smithing, Wright’s awkward attempts to give St. Nicholas a suitably profound, biblical manner of speaking actually work against him – the stilted dialogue makes it difficult to really experience the miracle in progress, and rather than sounding like one of God’s elect come down to touch the heart of a doubter he sounds rather more like a half-educated revival tent preacher trying to sound profound – and failing. This is a shame, because I actually wanted to feel moved by the protagonist’s epiphany, and Wright’s inability to get the tone right sabotaged it for me.
Characterisation
In a story like this, there’s immense scope for character development – after all, the protagonist is just about to have an earth shaking life experience that will change them in profound ways. Sadly, this promise isn’t really delivered. The protagonist is quite skilfully sketched early on, and we get a good sense of who she is and what’s she’s like. We see her right at the moment of her worst loss, and the alternating numbness and rage she expresses seems the right way to go. I did feel that the development of these emotions was somewhat shallow, however, and this was a serious flaw when it came to her meeting with St. Nicholas: we’re only given sips of her grief and isolation, and this is just not enough to fuel the heavy wonder the religious experience should have had. She comes to seem a bit like a department store window manikin just there to illustrate a caricature of religion, which I’m sure is not what Wright had in mind.
Verdict
I wanted to like this story, but couldn’t. It’s not exactly bad – the fundamental skill with words Wright has comes through, and it was fairly easy to read – but it so lacks the depth and profundity the ideas deserve that reading it just left me feeling hollow. It seems ironic that a story clearly intended to rebuke the hollowing out of Christmas for the sake of commerce itself seems to be a hollow sketch of faith. Epiphany fiction can be very moving, even for the non-religious, but this fails to touch the right chords and it almost seems as though Wright was just going through the motions.
Readability: Pass
Hugo Quality: Fail
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