A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens | Illustrated Books
Technical Information: Title:A Christmas Carol Text: Charles Dickens Illustration: Mario Jodra Translation: Alejandro Tobar Language: Spanish Font Type: Serif Publisher: Edelvives Binding: Hardcover Dimensions: 187 mm × 240 mm Pages: 176
On December 19, 1843, the public presentation of A Christmas Carol took place—an original work that a thirty-year-old Charles Dickens wrote in just two months. The first edition sold out within weeks and soon became a success that crossed borders. Today, Dickens’s text remains as relevant and compelling as ever, continuing to be one of his most acclaimed, recognized, and widely read works.
This edition is presented in its original version, accompanied by the powerful black-and-white illustrations of Mario Jodra, winner of the 5th Edelvives International Illustration Award. His visual approach—expressive and socially engaged—breathes new life into Dickens’s settings and characters, focusing on social contrasts and the protagonist’s inner transformation. This annotated edition offers readers a rich, profound, and reflective experience—perfect for those seeking a classic story with a contemporary perspective.
Illustrations on interior pages.
(...) And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change—not a knocker, but Marley's face.
(...) "It's humbug still!", said Scrooge. "I won't believe it." His colour changed though, when, without a pause, it came on through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, the dying flame leaped up, as though it cried "I know him; Marley’s Ghost!" and fell again.
(...) The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. (...) He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant
(...) The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; (...) “Who, and what are you?” Scrooge demanded. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
(...) In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door. (...) “I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me!”
(...) Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were not to be trifled with; people who would dance, and had no notion of walking.
(...) “Mr. Scrooge!” said Bob; “I’ll give you Mr. Scrooge, the Founder of the Feast!” “The Founder of the Feast indeed!” cried Mrs. Cratchit, reddening. “I wish I had him here.”
(...) “What place is this?” asked Scrooge. “A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. “But they know me. See!”
(...) Built upon a dismal reef of sunken rocks, some league or so from shore, on which the waters chafed and dashed, the wild year through, there stood a solitary lighthouse (...) Again the Ghost sped on, above the black and heaving sea—on, on—until, being far away, as he told Scrooge, from any shore, they lighted on a ship.
(...) “Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!” exclaimed the Ghost. (...) “Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more. “They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. (...) This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both...
(...) “What do you call this?” said Joe. “Bed-curtains!” “Ah!” returned the woman, laughing and leaning forward on her crossed arms. “Bed-curtains!”.
(...) A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed; and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this man. Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head.
(...) A churchyard. Here, then; the wretched man whose name he had now to learn, lay underneath the ground. (...) The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape.
Drawings on interior pages.
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