MIND MOVES: 'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents," grumbled Jo in Louisa May Alcott's formative novel Little Women. There follows a description of such unselfish giving by those who had little to those who had none, that Christmas is evermore infused with the contradictory combination of gratitude and guilt.
Christmas and gift-giving are inextricably bound and intrinsically complex. Ever since gold, frankincense and myrrh were brought to a family who might more properly have required blankets and food, the question remains whether presents should be impractical objects of regard or practical commodities a person might require. To whom, in what manner, for what purpose and with what expenditure should gifts be given and received and what psychological meaning does present-giving have today?
Christmas present-giving is not a generic activity with equal significance every time it occurs. It has layers of meaning and communicative consequence. Presents may be thoughtful, token, obligatory, voluntary, complimentary, corporate or deeply personal. They may be symbols of respect, affection, gratitude, care, concern, retribution, love, guilt, persuasion and purpose. They may be chosen with no expense spared or with calculated concern for each additional cent.
Among couples, few gifts offend as frequently as domestic appliances with ire that romantic imagination could be limited to the purchase of a deep fat frier or other household "friend". And what exactly is expected of the recipient of a toolbox other than to fix the house? How many children have groaned when an outwardly exciting package has revealed a sensible garment? And are there men enough to wear the masses of socks their impecunious offspring have seen fit to purchase for them?
Pitfalls with presents are plenty. For example, should Christmas callers give gifts with a fanfare of friendship or surreptitiously deposit them under the Christmas tree? Should family members identify objects they desire prior to Christmas or be surprised on the day? Is feigned gratitude permissible when a truly repugnant offering is unwrapped? How does one conceal disappointment to someone expecting delight? Is retrieving wrapping paper a sign of responsible recycling or meticulous meanness? And is making children write thanks for a detested gift from a distant relation encouraging dishonesty, hypocrisy or simple social skills?
Christmas presents are overshadowed by the dual spectre of Scrooge versus shopping insanity. And who gives what to whom carries aeons of psychological meaning when families reconvene for Christmas. As families gather for the perennial "opening the presents", thinly veiled family sibling rivalries may be ignited on Christmas Day more quickly than a falling candle on a brittle Christmas tree. Presents perceived to be more generous can regress grown adults to children remembering their disappointment with Santa's choices or times when their child's heart's desire was given to a favoured brother or sister.
Post-divorce parental animosity is also frequently played out in competitive Christmas gift-giving to children, whose Christmas wish is that their parents would be civil to each other.
Women know that the hastily purchased petrol station "present" bespeaks a relationship that has run its time. Men and women measure the gift by why it is given: everyone recognises the present designed to impress witnesses with the provider's wealth. And no amount of wrapping paper can conceal that which is given with guilt, nor can it redress the hurt that unnecessary miserliness conveys to a faithful spouse.
As we think of the time and money involved in choosing, procuring, queuing, paying for, packaging, wrapping, labelling, transporting, giving, receiving and recycling unwanted Yule-time goods, the annual call decrying this practice rings out. Yet it continues.
For gift-giving has psychological significance that exceeds the exchange of gifts. Few parents have received anything more precious than the splendid simplicity of a child's offering, crafted with love. A present may be a one-way, once-off, mark of appreciation for something a person did in the previous year, or annual acknowledgement of friendship through exchange of carefully-considered gifts. Presents may remind family and friends who live far away that they remain emotionally important.
A present may be acknowledgement of association, extension of friendship, recognition of relationship and confirmation of commitment. It is an opportunity to give. It is a willingness to receive. It is the confirmation of kinship. It is a reminder of how gifted we are if we have plenty and how ungrateful we are if we do not share what we have. It is an annual stock-take of loss and attachment. Little exceeds the agony of remembering the person upon whom one can never again bestow any gift. At such times everything that person might have liked is a reminder of the loss the year has brought.
In this extraordinary way it may be that Christmas reminds us that objects are inconsequential in themselves and that it is truly better to give than to receive and that children are still born in poverty who are precious and deserve recognition, respect and gifts.
Marie Murray is director of psychology at St Vincent's Hospital, Fairview.