Buch lesen: «Letters from Father Christmas»
J.R.R. TOLKIEN
Letters From Father Christmas
Edited by Baillie Tolkien
Copyright
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published by George Allen & Unwin 1976
Based on the edition first published by HarperCollinsPublishers 1999, revised 2004
This revised edition copyright © The Tolkien Estate Limited 1976 except for previously unpublished material, which is copyright © The Tolkien Trust 1999, 2004
® and ‘Tolkien’® are registered trade marks of The J. R. R. Tolkien Estate Limited
All illustrated material in this book reproduced courtesy of The Bodleian Library, University of Oxford and selected from their holdings labelled MS Tolkien Drawings 36–68; 83, folios 1–65; and 89, folio 18
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Source ISBN: 9780007280490
Ebook Edition © December 2010 ISBN: 9780007348176
Version: 2020-10-19
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Introduction
1920
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
About the Author
Works by J.R.R. Tolkien
About the Publisher
Introduction
To the children of J. R. R. Tolkien, the interest and importance of Father Christmas extended beyond his filling of their stockings on Christmas Eve; for he wrote a letter to them every year, in which he described in words and pictures his house, his friends, and the events, hilarious or alarming, at the North Pole.
The first of the letters came in 1920, when John, the eldest, was three years old; and for over twenty years, through the childhoods of the three other children, Michael, Christopher and Priscilla, they continued to arrive each Christmas. Sometimes the envelopes, dusted with snow and bearing Polar postage stamps, were found in the house on the morning after his visit; sometimes the postman brought them; and the letters that the children wrote themselves vanished from the fireplace when no one was about.
As time went on, Father Christmas’ household became larger, and whereas at first little is heard of anyone else except the North Polar Bear, later on there appear Snow-elves, Red Gnomes, Snow-men, Cave-bears, and the Polar Bear’s nephews, Paksu and Valkotukka, who came on a visit and never went away. But the Polar Bear remained Father Christmas’ chief assistant, and the chief cause of the disasters that led to muddles and deficiencies in the Christmas stockings; and sometimes he wrote on the letters his comments in angular capitals, using a thick pen because he had a fat paw.
Eventually Father Christmas took on as his secretary an Elf named Ilbereth, and in the later letters Elves play an important part in the defence of Father Christmas’ house and store-cellars against attacks by Goblins. These attacks would often explain why it had not been possible to fill the children's stockings with what they had wished for, instead being replaced by substitutes.
In this book are presented numerous examples of Father Christmas’ shaky handwriting, and almost all the pictures that he sent are here reproduced; and also included is the alphabet that the Polar Bear devised from the Goblin drawings on the walls of the caves where he was lost, and the letter that he sent to the children written in it.
1920
Christmas House,
North Pole
22nd December 1920
Dear John
I heard you ask daddy what I was like and where I lived. I have drawn me and my house for you. Take care of the picture. I am just off now for Oxford with my bundle of toys - some for you. Hope I shall arrive in time: the snow is very thick at the North Pole tonight. Your loving Father Christmas
1923
North Pole
Christmas Eve: 1923
My dear John,
It is very cold today and my hand is very shaky—I am nineteen hundred and twenty four, no! seven! years old on Christmas Day,—lots older than your great-grandfather, so I can’t stop the pen wobbling, but I hear that you are getting so good at reading that I expect you will be able to read my letter.
I send you lots of love (and lots for Michael too) and Lotts Bricks too (which are called that because there are lots more for you to have next year if you let me know in good time). I think they are prettier and stronger and tidier than Picabrix. So I hope you will like them.
Now I must go; it is a lovely fine night and I have got hundreds of miles to go before morning—there is such a lot to do.
A cold kiss from
Father Nicholas Christmas
1924
December 23rd 1924
Dear John
Hope you have a happy Christmas. only time for a short letter, my sleigh is waiting. Lots of new stockings to fill this year. Hope you will like station and things. A big kiss.
with love from
Father Christmas
P. S.
Father Christmas was in a great hurry—told me to put in one of his magic wishing crackers. As you pull, wish, and see if it doesn’t come true. Excuse thick writing I have a fat paw. I help Father Christmas with his packing: I live with him. I am the GREAT (Polar) BEAR
Dear Michael Hilary
I am very busy this year: No time for letter. Lots of love. Hope the engine goes well. Take care of it. A big kiss.
with love from
Father Christmas
1925
Cliff House,
Top of the World,
Near the North Pole
Christmas 1925
My dear boys,
I am dreadfully busy this year—it makes my hand more shaky than ever when I think of it—and not very rich; in fact awful things have been happening, and some of the presents have got spoilt, and I haven’t got the North Polar bear to help me, and I have had to move house just before Christmas, so you can imagine what a state everything is in, and you will see why I have a new address, and why I can only write one letter between you both.
It all happened like this: one very windy day last November my hood blew off and went and stuck on the top of the North Pole. I told him not to, but the North Polar Bear climbed up to the thin top to get it down—and he did. The pole broke in the middle and fell on the roof of my house, and the North Polar Bear fell through the hole it made into the dining room with my hood over his nose, and all the snow fell off the roof into the house and melted and put out all the fires and ran down into the cellars, where I was collecting this year’s presents, and the North Polar Bear’s leg got broken.
He is well again now, but I was so cross with him that he says he won’t try to help me again—I expect his temper is hurt, and will be mended by next Christmas.
I send you a picture of the accident and of my new house on the cliffs above the North Pole (with beautiful cellars in the cliffs). If John can’t read my old shaky writing (one thousand nine hundred and twenty-five years old) he must get his father to. When is Michael going to learn to read, and write his own letters to me? Lots of love to you both and Christopher, whose name is rather like mine.
That’s all: Good Bye
Father Christmas
1926
Cliff House,
Top of the World,
Near the North Pole
Monday December 20th 1926
My dear boys,
I am more shaky than usual this year. The North Polar Bear’s fault! It was the biggest bang in the world, and the most monstrous firework there ever has been. It turned the North Pole BLACK and shook all the stars out of place, broke the moon into four—and the Man in it fell into my back garden. He ate quite a lot of my Christmas chocolates before he said he felt better and climbed back to mend it and get the stars tidy.
Then I found out that the reindeer had broken loose. They were running all over the country, breaking reins and ropes and tossing presents up in the air. They were all packed up to start, you see—yes it only happened this morning: it was a sleighload of chocolate things, which i always send to England early. I hope yours are not badly damaged.
But isn’t the North Polar Bear silly? And he isn’t a bit sorry! Of course he did it—you remember I had to move last year because of him? The tap for turning on the Rory Bory Aylis fireworks is still in the cellar of my old house. The North Polar Bear knew he must never, never touch it. I only let it off on special days like Christmas. He says he thought it was cut off since we moved – anyway, he was nosing round the ruins this morning soon after breakfast (he hides things to eat there) and turned on all the Northern Lights for two years in one go. You have never heard or seen anything like it. I have tried to draw a picture of it; but I am too shaky to do it properly and you can’t paint fizzing light can you?
I think the Polar Bear has spoilt the picture rather—of course he can’t draw with those great fat paws—
Rude! I can—and write without shaking.
by going and putting a bit of his own about me chasing the reindeer and him laughing. He did laugh too. So did I when I saw him trying to draw reindeer, and inking his nice white paws.
Father Christmas had to hurry away and leave me to finish. He is old and gets worried when funny things happen. You would have laughed too! I think it is good of me laughing. It was a lovely firework. The reindeer will run quick to England this year. They are still frightened!…
I must go and help pack. I don’t know what Father Christmas would do without me. He always forgets what a lot of packing I do for him…
The Snow Man is addressing our envelopes this year. He is Father Christmas’s gardener—but we don’t get much but snowdrops and frost-ferns to grow here. He always writes in white, just with his finger…
A merry Christmas to you from North Polar Bear
And love from Father Christmas to you all.
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