From London’s holly-sellers to Engels’s flaming Christmas centrepiece, the plum pudding was more than festive fare in Victorian Britain, says KEITH FLETT
Scrooge: “And the Union workhouses. Are they still in operation?”
Charity Collector: “Both very busy, sir...”
Scrooge: “Those who are badly off must go there.”
Charity Collector: “Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”
Scrooge: “If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”
I AM certainly not the first person to mention the similarity, but the Tory Party has increasingly come to resemble Dickens’s famous miser, Ebenezer Scrooge. Indeed, some Conservatives appear to revel in the comparison, as we shall see.
Of course, Scrooge did eventually mend his ways, but only when threatened with the prospect of eternal damnation. The Tories appear confident that the warnings laid down by the Three Ghosts of Christmas don’t apply to them. Quelle surprise.
Some would say that many Tory souls were sold long ago or had atrophied to such an extent that an eternity spent in hellfire was always on the cards.
Meet just a few of the gang, to quote National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (1989), the “jolliest bunch of A-holes you’ll see this side of the nut house.” Or alternatively, a meeting of the now infamous “five families” group of hard-right Conservative MPs.
MARIA DUARTE recommends the powerful study of an underfunded reform school and the staff who struggle to do good
After a ruinous run at Tolkien, the streaming platforms are moving on to Narnia — a naff mix of religious allegory, colonial attitudes, and thinly veiled prejudices that is beyond rescuing, writes STEPHEN ARNELL



