Christmas Karol
By Faith Moore
(DW Books, 320 pages, $29)

A few nights ago, my apartment doorbell chimed, indicating whoever rang it was likely someone from the building, or else I would have been notified about a visitor. I opened the door on two lovely little girls around eight years old, holding a basket of toy jewelry and other knickknacks. They asked me if I wanted to buy something. Not being in the market for plastic necklaces, I nonetheless said, “Sure.” While purchasing a small rubber dog, I asked the girls how sales were going. “Great,” one said. “We’ve raised thirteen dollars for Israel,” said the other.

This cheered me, the thought of two young girls doing what little they could to aid a biblically blessed country whose children and women had been brutalized and murdered. Plus, I was still upset that Ohio had just voted for a state amendment to allow abortions up to birth. So, I posted on Facebook about my uplift from the tiny angels, concluding with, “Just when you think young women of America are a problem, something like this gives you hope for the future.” The responses were overwhelmingly positive from both women and men. Then came one from my friend — now probably former friend — Feather (not her real name). (READ MORE from Lou Aguilar: When Hollywoke Becomes a Joke, It’s Over)

Feather is a beautiful 40-something mathematical genius, single mom, and archetypal feminist girlboss of a Northern Virginia consulting firm. She wrote, “Why the hell would you EVER think young women are a problem for America?” I replied that for one thing too many of them are for infanticide. Feather wrote, “No, they’re for choice.” “Murdering babies is an evil choice,” I said. That’s when Feather went for the personal attack.

“You know, Lou, I don’t think most of us will listen to ethics spew from a man whose primary body of work focus on objectifying women (I referenced my sordid past in a recent article here) … Hang your old white man hat and go write a book about a cat who runs for Prime Minister (a cheap shot at my heartwarming first novel, Jake for Mayor). Young women will be the solution to this country’s problems (created by men).” This proved too much for other followers on my thread. “Boy, Lou, a nice little moment destroyed by a Harpy,” wrote Ray. “Feather ____ sounds very unhappy,” added J.

I thought of Feather and too many bitter women like her while reading Faith Moore’s enchanting first novel, A Christmas Karol. The feminized and anti-feminist reimagining of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol would have done them a valuable service in their earlier life, in positing that career pursuit is a sad, empty substitute for family focus. Moore accomplishes this not by heavy preaching but with a marvelously written fantasy. Her pretty literary style reflects a nearly forgotten art in the age of digital frenzy, like opening film credits. Yet no level of writing skill could make her book as poignant as it is. That takes the magic ingredient illuminating every page — a passion for motherhood.

According to modern cultural rote, Karol Charles has it all — a loving, empathic husband, Beau; a bright and defensive young daughter, Annabel; a humorous tyke son, Alfie; and, by far her chief priority, a booming law firm. Deep down, Karol knows this is upside down, but she’s a top dog in the race, as taught by her late all-business law firm partner, Marley Jacobs. The appeal of Moore’s storytelling is that the reader can grasp every mistake Karol makes while she refuses to accept it.

This becomes obvious early on when Karol chooses work rather than make Christmas cookies with her kids, who desperately want her to, as does Beau for their sake. Because the Scrooge virus is in Karol’s head: “Christmas songs all sounded the same to her now. Fa la la a tree, ding dong merrily a cow, hark, it’s Jesus, give him stuff he doesn’t need, let it snow and it’s gonna snow anyway, it’s December. Tra la tra la.”

You need not have read A Christmas Carol to enjoy this book, though Dickens purists will as well. They’ll appreciate both the adherence to his gem and how freely Moore navigates it. A haunted hospital becomes her Victorian London, with different rooms acting as portals to Christmases past, present, and future. Marley’s ghost is less spooky than Dickens’ chained miser but works just as well. Her yearning for basic human beauty that she can nevermore share — such as a baby in a bassinet — seems equally chilling. (READ MORE from Lou Aguilar: Beauty Is Truth Against Woke Fantasy)

Moore cleverly modernized the Ghost of Christmas Past into a little girl who’s wiser and older than her years, and whose simple logic both frustrates and enlightens Karol. And because Karol, unlike Scrooge, is familiar with moralistic popular art like It’s a Wonderful Life, she views each vision as a life lesson not a life changer. The readers know better, which adds to their suspense of when her true shock will occur, and if in time for her redemption.

All the characters are quite wonderful. Karol’s mother, Alice, overcompensates for the absence and cruelty of her father by too loudly cheering Karol at graduation. Karol’s sister, Fran, offends Karol by pursuing marriage above college. Annabel’s public dismissal of Karol’s maternal failures only hides her private anguish while easing Karol’s guilt. Karol’s family-centric assistant, Roberta, is a touching update of Bob Cratchit.

And husband Beau is the glue of the story, a man who loves his wife, tries to guide her firmly and gently toward salvation, but knows exactly where to draw the line with her. Such men do exist. Perhaps Feather can find one before it’s too late — and not insult him away.

Looking for an endearing holiday gift book? Try my romantic Christmas ghost story, The Christmas Spirit, available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other fine bookstores.