First, the excerpt...
THE FIRST OF THE THREE SPIRITS
It was a strange figure—like a child: yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view, and being diminished to a child’s proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin. The arms were very long and muscular; the hands the same, as if its hold were of uncommon strength. Its legs and feet, most delicately formed, were, like those upper members, bare. It wore a tunic of the purest white; and round its waist was bound a lustrous belt, the sheen of which was beautiful. It held a branch of fresh green holly in its hand; and, in singular contradiction of that wintry emblem, had its dress trimmed with summer flowers. But the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which all this was visible; and which was doubtless the occasion of its using, in its duller moments, a great extinguisher for a cap, which it now held under its arm.
Even this, though, when Scrooge looked at it with increasing steadiness, was not its strangest quality. For as its belt sparkled and glittered now in one part and now in another, and what was light one instant, at another time was dark, so the figure itself fluctuated in its distinctness: being now a thing with one arm, now with one leg, now with twenty legs, now a pair of legs without a head, now a head without a body: of which dissolving parts, no outline would be visible in the dense gloom wherein they melted away. And in the very wonder of this, it would be itself again; distinct and clear as ever.
“Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?” asked Scrooge.
“I am!”
The voice was soft and gentle. Singularly low, as if instead of being so close beside him, it were at a distance.
“Who, and what are you?” Scrooge demanded.
“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
“Long Past?” inquired Scrooge: observant of its dwarfish stature.
“No. Your past.”
I can't tell you how well I think The First of the Three Spirits nails the imagery evoked by that passsge! Another win for BPAL.
After reading the description of The Spirit of Christmas Past, I expected a radiant golden scent with an ethereal quality balanced by a grounding look at humanity. Oh, and Summer flowers.
That's exactly what this scent is.
The opening is an astringent shock, probably akin to the surprise Scrooge felt when encountering this ghost! As that blast of sharpness relaxes (or am I just getting used to it?) the florals surge forward in a gentle but firm push. Is that sharp edge the zdravetz (geranium macrorhizum)?
The drydown is the best part (I always think that!). A pure and pretty amber is balanced by a "nice" white musk - not dirty or animalic. It lasts on the skin for eons, but does fade from time to time, then bounce back, like The Spirit's appearance morphs.
Lovely. I may buy a back-up.