Dr. Seuss’s books were popular when I was a kid. And I must have read those rhyming books with curious little creatures a thousand times. My favorite book was How the Grinch Stole Christmas, but I was never a big fan of how the movies interpreted the text. I found the characters in the films too cerebral, smarmy, or scary.
However, this past weekend, my daughter and I watched the 2018 computer-animated movie, The Grinch, the book’s third screen adaptation. I wasn’t looking forward to yet another bad movie interpretation of the book, but much to my surprise, this film version hit me at my emotional core.
As a child, I always thought of the Grinch as the mean, bitter, and un-relatable villain. But something about seeing the Grinch’s facial expression and hearing the tone of his voice (by Benedict Cumberbatch) in this movie made me connect with his plight and predicament much more than the book.
Me, the holiday destroyer
As most know, the Grinch despises Christmas. And he steals Christmas from the town of Whoville, which is what I did to my family and married friends every year before I got married and had kids myself.
I was a miserable bachelor at the time and couldn’t bear to be around people that were “in love” and celebrating the holidays as a family. To mask my pain, I made fun of Christmas and offered my unsolicited thoughts on the socio-political interpretations of how Christmas turns people into consumerist lemmings. I provided my unwelcomed conspiracy theories on why they use a pagan tree — and interspersed my discourse with jokes about people’s tacky decorations and syrupy holiday rituals.
In other words, I was the Grinch that stole Christmas from everyone around me! And I was an insensitive jerk who thought his intellect and wit were superior to the love and the sentimentality of the holidays. (Bill Maher, essentially.)
But I wasn’t always this way.
Losing my “self”
I used to love Christmas time with my family. It was my favorite season of the year. All I needed was the love and acceptance of my parents to be happy. That was enough. I radiated joy in our home with no apologies for being me or feeling I needed to change myself.
And I felt “lovable” as is.
However, as I got older and more self-conscious, I wanted the love and acceptance of “others” outside of my family clan. And I felt the peer pressure to conform, fit in, and become society’s definition of lovable.
And that’s when I started apologizing for being “me.” I became a servant to the expectations of others. And I overcompensated for my inadequacies by acquiring the things needed to make myself more desirable, attractive, and complete.
And in the process, I lost touch with my authentic “self.”
The Club
In my distorted camera, those who were “lovable” got into the “VIP club of life” and ate from the smorgasbord of happiness. But I exiled myself out of that ring of joy and into solitary confinement. I became a professed outsider, isolated way up high in the sky of my tastefully appointed urban loft all alone, just like the Grinch did from his perch.
The Grinch wasn’t a bad guy. He was quite funny, smart, and caring. He was more likable and lovable than he realized, but he didn’t feel that way inside because somebody stole his Christmas long ago.
To cope with his lack of love, he assumed the archetypal role of the “elitist jerk” that wasn’t him. But the saddest part of his life is that he didn’t believe he deserved to have love.
Real or Fake
The Grinch Who Stole Christmas is a lot more profound and therapeutic than I remembered it being. And all this time, that wisdom has been right under my nose, or at least on my shelf. I wish I’d studied it more in my 30s for the brilliant insights the text can yield.
For anyone struggling with the holidays, love, or the project of accepting yourself, I recommend this movie. It can be transformative.
While there are all kinds of cliche Christmas trees, kids singing carols, and mounds of presents in the film, the gift of The Grinch isn’t about materialism. It’s about a smart, lonely guy that took away every material item that symbolized Christmas from his community.
But his attempt to steal their joy didn’t work. Because what mattered most to these people was setting aside a designated time of the year to be joyous, express gratitude and appreciation for others, and get into the spirit of giving and receiving love — even if it’s a manufactured event.
This movie allowed me to see the irony is that cynics and pessimists—like the old me—are actually hardcore believers denied what they so desperately want, love. But it goes even deeper than this.
Cynics are idealists and purists who believe in the real thing. And what they hate so much about Christmas is the imitation of love and what they perceive as prerequisites. They want pure love and acceptance like they felt for a moment as a child. Nothing else will do, but this is immature behavior.
Is there a conspiracy by Christmas fanatics?
Yes! To make us be nice and giving for a change.
Considering how harsh the world is today, perhaps we can allow ourselves to have a ten-day period where we can suspend our sarcasm and cynicism and believe in something as magical as love and appreciation for others, even if it’s contrived.
This being alone
As curated as each word in this movie is, one scene brought my tears out from the basement.
From high on his perch, the Grinch looks down on the happy holiday city and sighs, as the narrator says:
From the edge of his ledge,
way up in the sky,
the Grinch felt upset,
though he wasn’t sure why.
It could’ve been Christmas,
all that joy and the such,
or some thoughts from his past
that he just couldn’t quite touch.
But whatever it was,
it made his heart moan.
Though he was used to it now,
this being alone.
And now safe in his cave,
and apart from the fray,
he reminded himself…
It is better this way.
That’s how I used to think about life. I let my negative self-talk convince me I’m not allowed to be happy, to feel love, particularly around the holidays. But I say screw that voice! I like what I see in the mirror, in my heart, and in my family and community.
The Project
Dr. Seuss, who went by the pen name of Theodor Geisel, crafted each line of his book to show us readers how the Grinch could not find joy and happiness in his life, despite all the blessings and invitations for love and friendship around him.
Although aimed at kids, I believe his message was for cynical adults.
There was always plenty of love and friendship available to me. But I was a recovering child struggling with my infantile expectations of what love is. And the project I avoided most in my life was “growing up” and evolving beyond my narrow and simplistic understanding of love.
Once I learned to love myself as is, and without apology for being “me,” I started living and feeling joy, contentment, love, and, yes, the holiday spirit of giving and receiving gratitude.
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This post was previously published on Medium.com.
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