Maxwell Wang, Week #3: Fruitcake Weather
“She exclaims, ‘It’s fruitcake weather!’” is how the beginning of a supposedly unpopular English 9 Honors text goes. I say that because the day we came into class after having to read it for homework, our teacher asked us to raise our hands if we liked it. Only one kid did. That was me!
Truman Capote’s 1956 “A Christmas Memory” is different from most Christmastime literature and media in that instead of focusing on magic reindeer and presents under the tree, it tells the story of a boy, Buddy, who doesn’t have much in terms of comfort except for his elderly friend with whom his Christmases revolve around and who is the gift that makes them magical.
Even though it comes in cute little hardcovers and has watercolor pictures on every page, Capote’s story was not written with young children in mind. It doesn’t shy away from less innocent topics like the purchasing of spirits during Prohibition and, for me mostly touchingly, the passing of Buddy’s friend after years of penpal exchanges after he is sent far away to military school.
In Capote’s expertly penned ending, the elderly cousin gradually starts confusing Buddy in her letters and eventually, on one fruitcake morning, she cannot find the energy to get out of bed and continue her yearly tradition. The similar outcome of my own elderly neighbor’s penpal letters with me after I moved away bears so much uncanny resemblance to the story that I can’t help but feel attached to it. I’ll always appreciate spending a good Christmastime around family and friends, making memories for years to come.
Photo credit: Goodreads

By writing this, you have helped me unlock a memory of myself in 9th grade, crying while reading the end of this short story. Apparently I had buried it deep in my mind, because I had completely forgotten about “A Christmas Memory” until the moment I read your blog. This prompted me to find the story online and read it again, which unsurprisingly made me cry again. When the dog dies is where it really gets me, and then it’s just downhill from there.
ReplyDeleteThis is of course not to say that I don’t like it! I’m of the opinion that a good story should make you feel something meaningful, and that not every story should be written with the goal of making people feel happy. This short story definitely makes me feel something, and even though it makes me feel sad, that doesn’t make it any less good. I really liked “A Christmas Memory” when I read it, and I’m now remembering that, similar to you, I was pretty alone in this opinion. I feel like a lot of people read books to make themselves feel good, or for a happy ending. While this is very valid, I think people often confuse their feelings about the events within a book with their feelings about the book itself, if that makes any sense! Like, I hate the ending of “A Christmas Memory” with a passion, but I still like the short story itself because of how meaningful it felt to me as I read it.
Thank you for the reminder about this story! I didn’t know who Capote was the first time I read it, so learning that he wrote this was pretty cool. It feels like a little easter egg that was hidden for us a long time ago!
Yeah, I thought it was an interesting name and had no idea we'd have to read one of his longer books. I also cried at the end, the very last page, when Buddy says his friend couldn't write any more letters.
DeleteMaxwell, it was nice to dive back into a text such as “A Christmas Memory” again after so long. If I am being honest, it was one of the more forgettable texts that we read; in fact, I barely remember what we did with the text. So, when I revisited it, I was shocked to find that I liked the text more than I had thought. Having more context about the short story, I was able to appreciate all the subtle details that Truman Capote weaves into his storytelling, as is usual of his style. I also was able to relate to the main character: with each passing holiday, the bond between me and my grandparents seemed to falter ever so slightly, making me clutch onto those memories and hold them close to my chest. This struggle to maintain these wonderful relationships is part of why we are so keen to hold on to the past; at the same time, it is also how we learn to let go. Such a duality is the story of life.
ReplyDelete