'...deadened by information, we are glad of these awful, intent, and
nameless beings as to whom no information is to be had. Our irrational,
darker selves demand familiars...'-Elizabeth Bowen, from the Introduction
Whenever things get slow around here, I'm more than apt to go through various seminal anthologies for article subjects; the GHOST BOOK is a personal favorite. I'm not the only one, either. Besides holding forth myself on Algernon Blackwood's 'Chemical', Hugh Walpole's 'Mrs Lunt', and Walter de la Mare's 'A Recluse', I've also been party to others' discussions of May Sinclair's 'The Villa Desiree', and L.P. Hartley's 'A Visitor From Down Under'. I suppose it's only a matter of time before Clemence Dane's 'Spinster's Rest' or D.H. Lawrence's 'The Rocking-Horse Winner' come under the microscope, and when they do I'll be there boyo, cracking the slide along with everybody else.
We all owe Lady Cynthia Asquith a debt of thanks for leaving us the several excellent collections that enjoyed her editorship, as well as those A CENTURY OF... volumes in which she undoubtedly had a hand. The three Ghost Books are crown jewels indeed. The First GHOST BOOK was more magisterial, as one would expect the maiden voyage of the series to be; there are 'names' in the Second too, but not quite in the same concentration. Of course the First had its faults-- the Machen story was weak (ghosts have never been his forte, 'The Bowmen' notwithstanding), the Onions stories could be the worst he ever did-- but it had enough killers where it didn't matter. And Machen and Onions are *there* at least, stumbling around like drunken ex-presidents, to show that the invitation was a red-letter one. In the Second, we get a slightly larger selection and the inclusion of some lesser lights we may not have encountered otherwise. The Third is even larger, and better. Let's save that for later.
The SECOND GHOST BOOK (American title: A BOOK OF MODERN GHOSTS, Charles Scribner's Sons; NY 1953) is an 'obsession' volume, as pointed out by Elizabeth Bowen in her splendid Introduction, though it could be argued that obsession is a constant of ghosts. Why else would they be there? The majority of the departed have better (or worse) things to do; were it otherwise, we would be up to our eyebrows in ghosts, and this would be alt.books.quick-fiction, to provide relief from the smothering dead. Not as strong overall as the first outing of the series, the Second still has peaks of considerable power, its valleys not too vertiginous; it exhibits a variance of tone from occasional plunges into humor and sentiment, and seems to show less concern with straight fear. Why this should be is anybody's guess; I would hate to think the publisher told Lady Cynthia to 'lighten it up a bit' after her first selection scared the daylights out of readers. More likely the decision was her own, to demonstrate the sprawling vistas of the free-range ghost, or of the contracted writers, who would demonstrate this anyway.
Rather than scroll down the Contents page, I'll stack these thumbnail reviews in a loose 'worst to best' arrangement; the Reader is invited to be totally chapped by my presumption, but begged not to take it too hard, keeping in mind that, besides my own subjectivity, even the 'worst' story is worth reading. Please feel free to cut and paste individual titles for further discussion; this whale is a bit unwieldy to haul up on deck all at once.
'The Restless Rest-House'- Jonathan Curling
Only mildly interesting (and mildly racist) geography piece set in West Africa, where a traveling Englishman lodges at the spartan and critter- infested rest-house; a nocturnal burglar disturbs his rest. Not that good.
'Possession On Completion'- Collin Brooks
Brooks tips his hand early by actually mentioning Onions' 'The Beckoning Fair One' by name before launching into his own anemic version of it. The concept of a house 'needing' a death might could have been handled with some style, but this is, unfortunately, a wooden approximate, and a bit too derivative of its inspiration.
'Bomber's Night'- Evelyn Fabyan
Wartime London, of course. The newlyweds' happiness is shattered when Marigold is killed by blast in an air raid; the grieving husband on the rebound marries a beautiful Czech girl-- the reader may well wonder, along with the ghost, upon seeing the new love-nest and the expectant cradle that, 'all this has happened in less than a year.' Good for one striking charnel image, that of a direct hit on a graveyard, which hurls the bodies everywhere, into tree branches, across telegraph wires; an image insufficiently supported by the rest of the story.
'A Story Of Don Juan'- V.S. Pritchett
A Washington Irving-esque fable about the notorious lover stopping to spend the night at a widower's castle. The ghost of the wife naturally haunts the bedroom in which he sleeps. Droll, in a macho sort of way.
'The Guardian'- Walter de la Mare
This is one of those de la Mare stories that no one seems to like (another is 'Bad Company'); the latter lacks weight, this one is too sappy and diffuse, and the ending is inconclusive and unsatisfying. I can't believe I'm saying these things about him. I must be running a fever. Talk amongst yourselves, I'm going to lie down.
'One Grave Too Few'- Cynthia Asquith
John and Laura Bryan take the manor house with a baleful history that emerges too late to forestall Laura's delivery of her child there. A malevolent tale told with straightforward economy; Lady Asquith eschews compositional display for a presentation very like an oral account, just sound, simple storytelling with appropriate empathies. Not bad at all for an editor.
'The Amethyst Cross'- Mary Fitt
The item of the title barely makes it to the story. Good, but somewhat unbalanced; after the setup of Margaret's finding a getaway cottage for her overbearing Aunt Dorothea, the playout is handled in the form of a lengthy and rather unlikely letter from Aunt Dorothea herself as to what transpired, and a news item is tossed in almost as an afterthought. I liked the ghosts, though.
'The Lass With The Delicate Air'- Eileen Bigland
So many of the protagonists in these stories 'move' to their ghosts; I'm beginning to wonder if it is coincidence that, in the better stories, the ghosts more frequently move toward their victims. The overworked bachelor goes to Scotland for his health and takes a house in the Highlands supposedly plagued by the ghosts of soldiers, but which actually has a more romantic haunting, heralded by whistling and a sad-eyed coleen picking primroses. Not bad despite the description given; nicely written, though hopelessly sentimental.
'Autumn Cricket'- Lord Dunsany
Old Modgers goes to the abandoned cricket-ground at Long Barrow at night to watch the ghosts of past stars play matches. Dunsany hears from a friend that they've been trying to put Modgers in the asylum, but it takes two doctors to certify him as nuts, and Modgers is too wily to let that happen. Amusing. What would old men do without cricket and golf? It beats looking for your name in the obituary pages.
'Spooner'- Eleanor Farjeon
Another cricket story. Mary, in her sixties, has inherited the little house of her cousin Bill, following his death in a road accident. They were friends since childhood, and friendly cricket rivals as well; she comes there with her cat Spooner, named after one of her favorite Lancashire players, to take possession of memories.
A sweet little tale, recommended to lovers of cricket, lovers of cats, and of old friends. Pardon me, I've just got something in my eye.
'Danse Macabre'- L.A.G. Strong
Mr Mangan relates the story of what happened to old Flanagan at a school dance long ago when he was a young Flanagan, and ventured to dance with the strange girl there. This is basically the suburban version of a very familiar urban legend ('Just drop me off at the graveyard'), but cleverly told, with irascible charm.
'Christmas Meeting'- Rosemary Timperley
The perennial holiday classic. Scarcely three pages long, but as wistfully succinct as it ever was.
'The Bewilderment Of Snake McKoy'- Nancy Spain
Nancy Spain does a better-than-average job of pretending to be not only male but American; her narrator writes hardboiled crime stories a la Mickey Spillane, and Snake McKoy is his private eye.
Hilarious explication of his writing method: fans send in postcards with suggestions for Snake's exploits which he dutifully condenses to their common denominators and puts in the next installment (' "Let the Snake have lots more blondes and please let him shoot someone while actually kissing them." All right.'). But when the writer and his family move to London, he gets an unexpected collaborator who turns his life inside-out, and suddenly this story isn't so funny after all. One of the two John Betjeman recommends.
'Back To The Beginning'- John Connell
This story is an open letter to all those who embrace the corruptions of power, who made their choice of their own free will to oppress, who idolize the strong and despise the weak. You have struck a bargain, and you answer to your Master. Would you care to hear Thomas Eildon's story? He's telling it here, but he hasn't much time as he has a previous appointment. Listen to his reasoning, petulant, prevaricative, and futile. Wonder at the veneer of respectability that almost hides 'a neglected, unhappy, snivelling, bullied small boy' who didn't care to change after all, and decide for yourself whether the game is worth the candle, whether you will have shadows left to hide in when all the promenade lights come on.
'Whitewash'- Rose Macaulay
Very unusual and refreshing setting for a ghost story: the Mediterranean island of Capri where conflicting memories of the Roman emperor Tiberius ('Timberio') have created a tourist industry. The caves where the sea comes in are particularly haunted locales. Betjeman's other favored pick, and nicely done, seems to hang in the mind afterwards and get even better with subsequent readings.
'Memoirs Of A Ghost'- G.W. Stonier
A surprisingly rich tangent on a familiar theme, this story explores the undiscovered country with precision and dignity, and unearths possibilities not easily forgotten. The mood of the narrating ghost is infectious, maybe fatal. Do not read if you have no life, lest you find out why. Bleiler notes that Stonier also has a novel with this same title.
'The Chelsea Cat'- C.H.B. Kitchin
Mr Mallowbourne collects porcelain, and has it in his mind to be the next owner of a rare piece of Red Anchor, to wit: one white cat with a black ribbon around its neck, which has already been through several owners.
He succeeds. As with other stories written with considerations beyond simple plot, the real enjoyment in this one is the way it is told. A fine, even manner punctuated with humor, foreboding, sharp character and psychology, and limned with astute observations of the collector instinct, 'The Chelsea Cat' is an excellent read, could be Kitchin's best in the genre, if 'Beauty And The Beast', which I haven't seen, doesn't top it.
'Hand In Glove'- Elizabeth Bowen
Ethel and Elsie Trevor, 'the clever Miss Trevors', inhabit Jasmine Lodge in the south of Ireland, in the vicinity of a garrison town. They are young, attractive, and looking for husbands, and they work hard at it, appearing at all the social functions ladies in their flowering period are customarily expected to attend.
Poor dears, they are not financially able to pursue these activities with all the aplomb they would wish; nevertheless they work wonders with what is available. They have an elderly widowed aunt, a Mrs Varley de Grey *nee* Elysia Trevor, who occupies a back bedroom of the lodge, safely tucked away from their milieu (she's a bit dotty), whose trunks of dresses in the attic get reworked and refurbished for important occasions, and thereby maintain the clever Miss Trevors in the styles sufficient for their endeavor.
But time is growing short, and they've touched up their only evening gloves with benzine so many times... Aunt Elysia is being horrid about the whole thing; the one trunk of hers they have not pilfered is securely locked, and the key is concealed on her person and cannot be gotten at.
An elegantly sardonic presentation, typical of the talented Elizabeth Bowen.
'W.S.'- L.P. Hartley
Well, everybody here knows I'm completely queer for L.P. Hartley, and want to be just like him when I grow up (minus a few personal peccadillos and his walrus-like aspect, I hope); it's unlikely I will ever attain that plateau. But 'A Visitor From Down Under' will always be one of my top five favorite ghost stories, and 'W.S.' is another classic in his classic-studded oeuvre. By the time the devoted handshake of the first postcard becomes the sinister *ti stringo la mano* of the last, poor Walter Streeter is well and truly undone. A story to read and re-read, especially for writers having trouble coming to grips with their characters.
'Captain Dalgety Returns'- Laurence Whistler
Captain Dalgety, a stern and preoccupied man, is returning on foot from the village, having put his car in a ditch. On the way, he is caught in a rainstorm, which seems to drench all the vinegar right out of him, and he is possessed of notions to make improvements in his life, and to reconnect with the young daughter he has hitherto slighted.
No, that's not all. Nor does it sufficiently represent the depth of feeling addressed by the story, or its extraordinary lyrical prose. A truly beautiful thing, it is the kind of result looked for by lovers of the genre, the happy combination of awe-inspiring fantasy and great literature. Bleiler calls it 'sensitive, but somewhat overwritten.' Don't listen to him, he's a big doo-doo head. He didn't say 'How Love Came To Professor Guildea' was overwritten, did he?
rbadac