In Wong Kar-Wai’s 2046, the protagonist Chow Mo-Wan compares Christmas to a brutally cold region of outer space called Area 1224-1225. In the short story Chow writes, he advises passengers aboard the train to 2046 to embrace one another for warmth.
Like Chow, I can’t stand Christmas. The lights are a waste of time and energy. The traffic is insufferable. The carols are grating. The “brotherhood of men” bull feels like a joke.
What’s my beef with the season? Why can’t I just ride with it? Because Christmas fails to meet its intended goals, and it’s our fault.
There’s a fundamental hypocrisy in the way we celebrate Christmas. We go through the motions, acting like it’s a season of light, but the truth is that it leaves so many in darkness.
Behind the illusion of Christmas cheer, it’s a season that can be a difficult time for anyone. Some lack basic material needs in what’s seen as a season of excess. Meanwhile, others grapple with a profound emptiness in what’s meant to be a season of love. In either case, Area 1224-1225 is an alienating sort of cold.
Worse, if you’re not feeling the season, you’re forced into feeling it. You can’t walk through a public place without hearing a Christmas song. You can’t miss the animatronic nativity scenes set up in mall atria. You can’t skip noche buena on principle without your lola throwing a fit. The season is inescapable.
It feels like a farce, though, that while Christmas is meant to be an inclusive event, this inclusivity has been overshadowed by empty religious observance, oppressive traditionalism and, heck, even the social pressure to buy gifts for everyone.
Thus, Christmas fails to get its supposed core message across. It’s the birth of a man who offered a message of love to all people. Today, though, it feels like a season of love for the few, rather than the many.
Expressing that sort of negative opinion about Christmas gets me some interesting reactions. At the very least, by saying it, I’ve put a damper on the conversation; worse, I’ve insulted an unequivocally great holiday.
Some get defensive about the season, often starting their arguments with: “Well, in my family… ” Precisely, though, I’d argue that it’s that failure to look beyond ourselves that marginalizes those around us.
The challenge is to rethink the season. Why do we celebrate it in the first place? I don’t even want to give the question a religious answer, because it’s an answer that makes its own exclusions. To live by what Christmas ought to be, I’d say, is not to reject, but to embrace the other—not to marginalize, but to love.
You’re not obligated to observe the holiday—honestly, I’d rather not—but if you’re going to celebrate it, celebrate it right. Find the elusive “true” spirit of Christmas and live out the genuine love for humankind the holiday is meant for.
It’s a tall order, but if there’s any way to “save Christmas” from the empty, shallow exercise in excess that it’s become, that’s it. It’s a cold season, but you can make the blistering loneliness of Area 1224-1225 easier to bear for someone else.
