Review of “The Haunted Chair” by Richard Marsh: Halloween Countdown

Plot:

As Mr. Philpotts walks into the smoking room of the club, he hears, “Well, that’s the most staggering thing I’ve ever known!” The narrator hints that the actual comment was not quite so tame.

The speaker, Mr. Bloxom, stands in front of his chair, looking around. He asks Mr. Philpotts, “Did you see him?”

“I heard you,” the other replies and points out that Mr. Bloxom’s cigar is on the floor, burning the new carpet the committee has just had installed.

Mr. Bloxom ignores him and demands, “Did Geoff Fleming pass you as you came in?”

This confuses Mr. Philpotts. “Geoff Fleming!–Why, surely he’s in Ceylon [present day Sri Lanka—my note] by now.”

Mr. Bloxom insists he was just in the room. A few moments later, he discovers his wallet is missing. Geoff Fleming, who should be on his way halfway around the world, must have taken it.

Thoughts:

I found it obvious what was happening from the moment poor, flummoxed Mr. Bloxom began looking for someone who was just there—and couldn’t be there. This is a cute little tale. Mr. Bloxom is not the only club member to have a similar adventure and be relieved of something of value.

The members argue with one another. Surely Bloxom, then the next person is losing their marbles. Fleming can’t be here. Even if he were, he couldn’t have gotten out of the room without someone seeing him, right?

This little tale pokes fun at the various club members and the high opinions they have of themselves. Nevertheless, it is sad, demonstrating the lengths one member will go to measure up, at least in his own mind. Yes, he screwed up, but he must keep his word under any circumstances—then all will be forgiven, right?

One drawback is the use of dialect and slang that rely on the particular time and place. For example, when Bloxom realizes his wallet is gone after his brief encounter with Fleming, he complains that Fleming has “boned his purse.”



Bio: Richard Marsh (legal name: Richard Bernard Heldmann) (1857-1915) was a prolific British writer and novelist. His best-known work is the 1897 novel The Beetle. He began writing boys’ fiction. For a brief time, he served as a co-editor at one of the periodicals he’d been publishing regularly in, but then was let go. After serving time for forging checks, he adopted the pseudonym Richard Marsh and began publishing crime, detection, thriller, popular romance, and humor fiction for adults. All told, he published about seventy-six short stories.


This story can be read here:

I could not find an audio version of this story.


Title: “The Haunted Chair”
Author: Richard Marsh (legal name: Richard Bernard Heldmann) (1857-1915)
First published: Between the Dark and the Daylight, April 1902
Length: short story

Review of “A Ghost Story” by Mark Twain: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Plot:

The narrator recounts that he took a large room in a huge old building. The upper stories, where his room is, have been unoccupied for years and have long given up to cobwebs, solitude, and silence. He feels he’s invading the privacy of the dead. For the first time in his life, a superstitious dread overcomes him.

He locks the door. While a cheery fire burns, he sits and thinks of bygone times, faces of friends he’ll never see again, voices fallen forever silent, and once familiar songs no one sings anymore. Outside, it begins to rain. He turns in for the night and sleeps profoundly.

He wakes suddenly with the feeling of someone or something tugging the covers toward the foot of the bed. He hears noises of someone walking—no, stomping like an elephant—around the bedroom and the building. He sees disembodied faces floating above the bed…

Cardiff Giant from Wikipedia

Thoughts:

While this story begins in traditional gothic ghost story form—the long-unused room, the cobwebs, the rain, the narrator’s ruminations on lost friends and loved ones, and the appearance of the ghost, which terrifies him—it turns on a dime. After all, Mark Twain wrote this tale.

After a second look, he realizes his visitor is a little out of sorts. And stark naked. One can’t be at his best when he’s knocking around a stranger’s room in the middle of the night in the all-in-all.

It ends in farce. Good for Twain. He brings in one of the day’s great hoaxes, the so-called Cardiff (New York) Giant. According to Wikipedia, the Cardiff Giant was created by New York tobacco retailer George Hull after an argument at a Methodist revival meeting about biblical references to giants in the earth. Showman P. T. Barnum then created a replica. It had already been exposed as a hoax when Twain wrote the story.

This is a cute little tale.


Bio: Mark Twain (legal name: Samuel Langhorne Clemens) (1835-1910) was an American writer, novelist, and journalist. He was known primarily as a humorist. As a young man, he worked as a boat captain on the Mississippi River until the Civil War disrupted river trade. He recounted the time in Life on the Mississippi. Among his most well-known books are The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1876) and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1884), which have lately had their share of controversy.


This story can be read here:


The story can be listened to here: (14:38)


Title: “A Ghost Story”
Author: Mark Twain (legal name: Samuel Langhorne Clemens) (1835-1910)
First published: Mark Twain’s sketches, new and old, 1875
Length: short story


Review of “The Furnished Room” by O. Henry: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy


Plot:

In the turn of the century New York’s Lower West Side, a young man seeks to rent a room. After confirming with the prospective landlady that she rents to a lot of “theatrical people,” he asks if she has recently rented to Miss Eloise Vashner.

“[D]o you remember such a one among your lodgers? She would be singing on the stage, most likely. A fair girl, of medium height and slender, with reddish, gold hair and a dark mole near her left eyebrow.”

The young man has been looking for her for five months.

The landlady denies this.

The young man takes the room, which has the marks of many of its former tenants. As he settles in, the strong, sweet odor of mignonette* fills the room. He cries aloud, “What, dear?” as if she called to him.

He decides that Eloise has been in that room and searches for some token of her. He runs down the hall and asks the landlady about former tenants. She recites a laundry list, none of which sounds like Eloise. When he returns to the room, the scent of mignonette has gone.

Thoughts:

I do wish to warn sensitive readers that the story deals with suicide.

The writing is nicely atmospheric. The young man is never named, but the reader knows the name of the young lady he is searching for. The landlady is quick with useless information, telling him twice that the former lodgers hung their marriage certificate on the wall. They were respectable, after all. So is she—not renting rooms to women of questionable character.

The unnamed young man doesn’t care. He’s looking for his beloved.

The rooms-to-let speak of a transient population, always coming and going. The “theatrical people” are always on the move. Just the same, the places they stay leave traces of their passing, ghosts of their actions, so to speak:

“A splattered stain, raying like the shadow of a bursting bomb, witnessed where a hurled glass or bottle had splintered with its contents against the wall.”

Why shouldn’t the young man expect to find a trace of Eloise there?

The surprise O. Henry ending follows.

This is a sad little tale about a young man who has searched and perhaps found the woman he loves.


Bio: O. Henry (legal name: William Sidney Porter) (1862-1910) was a prolific American short story writer with some 600 short stories to his name. His stories were known for the surprise twist endings. He was born in Greensboro, NC, but settled in New York City. While he was working as a bookkeeper in a bank in Austin, some money went missing. In 1896, on the day before he was to stand trial for embezzlement, he fled to New Orleans and later to Honduras, which had no extradition treaty with the U.S.

He returned on hearing that his wife was gravely ill and was later convicted of embezzlement in 1898, despite some doubts about his guilt. He served three of the five years he was sentenced to, changed his name to O. Henry, and moved to New York City to continue his writing career.

He found success during his lifetime but drank heavily and died of cirrhosis of the liver. He was deeply in debt.

Among his most famous stories are “The Gift of the Magi” (1905) and “The Ransom of Red Chief” (1907).


This story can be read and listened to here: (14:18)


* mignonette 1) a plant, Reseda odorata, common in gardens, having racemes of small, fragrant, greenish-white flowers with prominent orange anthers 2) a grayish green resembling the color of a reseda plant.

Title: “The Furnished Room”
Author: O. Henry (legal name: William Sidney Porter) (1862-1910)
First published: New York Sunday World Magazine, August 14, 1904
Length: short story

Review of “Fishhead” by Irvin S. Cobb: Halloween Countdown

Getty images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Plot:

“Fishhead” is the unkind name given to the mixed-race main character who lived by swampy Reelfoot Lake in Tennessee. The lake was created by an 1811 series of earthquakes, which caused an area of land to subside and the Mississippi to flood in.

Fishhead’s “half-breed Indian” mother—so the story goes—was frightened by one of the monstrous fish that lived in the lake shortly before Fishhead was born, thus bringing about her offspring’s physical deformities.

He grew up and stayed in a slough by the swampy lake, keeping to himself, “a piece with this setting,” the author tells the reader. “He fitted into it as an acorn fits into its cup.” People told stories about Fishhead: At dusk, some heard a cry “skittering across the darkened waters.” It was Fishhead, calling to the huge, ugly catfish in the lake. They would come, and he’d swim with them and eat with them…

The Baxter brothers, Jake and Joel, come across Fishhead at the skiff landing at Walnut Log one day. Jake and Joel accuse Fishhead of stripping hooked fish off their trot line. They have no evidence of this, but they are drunk. Fishhead answers their accusation in silence. One of them slaps his face. They both receive a fair beatdown for their efforts.

The Baxter brothers find such treatment beneath their dignity and plot revenge.

Thoughts:

The setting of Reelfoot Lake in this short tale is a character in itself. The author takes pains to describe it long before introducing Fishhead, who is part of the land and lake. It sustains those wise enough to understand its ways, but there are also dangers—the skeletons of submerged cypress trees, for example. In some spots, it appears bottomless. In others, it is shallow. And there are always strange creatures and mud—endless mud.

Fishhead’s deformities are not the result of his mixed heritage but the result of the shock his mother experienced shortly before he was born—an old and long-discredited idea. His appearance may be a little hard on the eyes, but he’s well-adapted to his environment and doesn’t bother anyone.

The white Baxter brothers drink, make false accusations, and abuse Fishhead. If their appearance isn’t as ugly as Fishhead’s, their actions are far uglier. They get their collective rear end handed to them—deservedly so—and they can’t accept that a black guy bested them. The story is one of tragedy and unnecessary death brought about by drunk and foolish people who hate without reason someone different from them.

I found this story primarily sad and difficult to read on an emotional level.



Bio: Irvin S. Cobb (1876-1944) was an American journalist, humorist, and author. Originally from Paducah, Kentucky, he began writing at the local paper but settled in New York. He wrote for the Saturday Evening Post (among other papers) and covered Americans serving in France during the Great War, particularly the Harlem Hellfighters. Among his most popular series were the stories of Judge Priest. He also worked in film, both in silent and sound productions. “Fishhead” remains one of his most frequently anthologized stories and served as an inspiration for H. P Lovecraft’s “The Shadow Over Innsmouth.”


This story can be read and listened to here: (29:08)


Title: “Fishhead”
Author: Irvin S. Cobb (1876-1944)
First Published: The Cavalier, January 11, 1913
Length: short story:

Review of “The Familiar” by J. Sheridan Le Fanu: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Plot:

This is a case found among the papers of the (fictional) “metaphysical physician” Dr. Martin Hesselius and described by his anonymous assistant.

Sir James Barton has served in the British Navy with distinction for some twenty years, particularly in the American War (American Revolution). In his early 40s now, he returns to Dublin with thoughts of settling down. He becomes engaged to Miss Montague, the niece of a Lady L—. They await the return of Miss Montague’s father from India to formalize things.

One night, on his way home after visiting with Lady L— and Miss Montague, he hears footsteps behind him. It’s late, and the streets are deserted. He looks over his shoulder but sees no one. The footsteps seem to run and stop. The seeming pursuit rattles Barton enough that he calls out. No answer comes.

Barton says nothing to anyone at first, least of all Miss Montague.

Similar incidents follow; Barton hears laughter. One day, he meets a small man in a fur-traveling cap. The man says nothing but looks at him with such vicious malice that Barton’s friends notice he’s taken aback.

Thoughts:

The reader watches Barton’s antagonist circle ever closer. Barton is a materialist and doesn’t believe in the supernatural. These experiences shake his disbelief. He finally seeks counsel from well-intentioned experts—even a clergyman—who tell him in the politest of terms that it’s all in his head. He should get some rest, eat better, and get some exercise.

His questions to a medical doctor reveal that he has something he’d prefer not to remember. It’s not entirely clear to the reader yet. Could lockjaw (tetanus) ever look like death?

The reader feels Barton’s terror and this nameless enemy. Not until the end are an identity and a motive made known, though the reader can make some guesses. The author ratchets up the danger to Barton as the story goes on. The result is not so much righteous anger as sadness.

While things take a while to get going, and the reader has a bit to sit through, I like this sad tale.


Bio: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu (1814-1873) was an Irish writer of Huguenot descent. His early writings include a group of short stories, initially published anonymously in The Dublin University Magazine in the guise of the literary remains of one (fictional) Father Frances Purcell (The Purcell Papers 1838-1850). These range from the creepy (“Strange Event in the Life of Schalken the Painter”) to the silly (“The Quare Gander”).

Le Fanu’s writings include many ghost stories and supernatural pieces. His works influenced such writers as M. R. James and may have inspired portions of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre (1847). His vampire tale, “Carmilla” (1872), influenced Bram Stoker’s Dracula. “Carmilla” has been adapted for film several times with varying degrees of success.

In 1858, his wife died after what was described as a fit of hysteria. Le Fanu ceased writing for years and became a recluse, taking to his bed.


This story can be read here:


This story can be listened to here: (1:30:03)


Title: “The Familiar”
Author: J. Sheridan Le Fanu (1814-1873)
First published: This is a minor revision of “The Watcher,” first published in the collection In a Glass Darkly (1851). This version was published in 1872.
Length: novelette
Series: Martin Hesselius

Review of “The Entail” by E. T. A. Hoffmann: Halloween Countdown

Plot:

Our hero’s great-uncle V— works as a law agent and “Justitiarius” (other translations call him “Advocate”) for the family of Freiherr (Baron)* R—. Our hero is named V—like his great-uncle. He accompanies the elder V— to the family estates to attend to R— family business.

Uncle V—’s usual rooms are unavailable, having suffered a catastrophic collapse, so Uncle and Nephew are put up in unfamiliar quarters. Nephew dreams of strange, otherworldly things the first night they stay—footsteps when no one is there, sighs and moans, and someone scratching at a sealed-off passage.

In the morning, he relates this to Uncle. Having dreamed these same things, Uncle takes Nephew’s account seriously and banishes the evil presence on the second night. Uncle and Nephew then sleep peacefully.

Nephew despises the baron. Uncle knows why—the baron stands between Nephew and the lovely 19-year-old baroness. Fortunately, the business he and his uncle have is completed before Nephew can do anything really stupid, and they depart.

Sadly, Uncle has a stroke soon after they return home. While recovering and knowing he’s not long for this world, Uncle tells Nephew the story of the family R—. It takes a while.

Thoughts:

This story is long and written without chapter breaks. By my count, the reader will wade through more than 34,000 words, a feat that would be difficult to accomplish in a single sitting.

The R— family history is full of intrigue, murder, betrayal, sleepwalkers (…maybe…), jealousy, a hidden child, and—as the reader learns early—a grandaddy who practiced black magic. Two family members are named Roderick. Two others are named Hubert. Why? Did author Hoffmann run out of given names?

“Entail” was a word not familiar to me. As far as I could puzzle out, it’s a legal term referring to a piece of real estate with limited ownership and inheritance. Old Granddaddy, the dabbler in the black arts, wanted to keep his descendants close, even if his two sons couldn’t stand him. How’d that work out for you, Granddaddy?

The tale wanders. The young narrator, V—, grows older. The elder V— passes away, but not before revealing (at some length) the secrets of the family R—. The horror is real, yet humor appears. Especially when the family history is revealed, things get complicated and a little hard to follow. Mostly, I find the story sad.

I believe the greatest obstacle to the modern reader would be the length of this tale. The next greatest obstacle would be the confusing family history. However, there are rewards for the reader willing to wade through this long story.



Bio: E. T. A. Hoffmann (1776-1822) was a German composer, painter, lawyer, judge, and author. He was born in what was then Königsberg in the Kingdom of Prussia but is now Kaliningrad, Russia. He trained in law, following family tradition. He wrote more than fifty stories—not all of which have been translated into English—musical compositions like the opera Undine, one complete novel, The Devil’s Elixir (Die Elixiere des Teufels), and an incomplete novel, The Life and Opinions of Tomcat Murr (Lebens-Ansichten des Kater Murr). One of his stories, “Nutcracker and Mouse-King” (“Nußknacker und Mausekönig”), inspired Tchaikovsky’s ballet The Nutcracker. His most well-known story is probably “The Sandman,” which is not related to the Neil Gaiman series of the same name.

Most of Hoffman’s works deal with the supernatural or uncanny, whether ghosts, automatons, or doppelgangers. His writings influenced writers as diverse as Alexandre Dumas, Nikolai Gogol, Franz Kafka, Leo Perutz, and Edgar Allan Poe.


*The meaning of the titles changed a bit over time, but “baron” is close enough for jazz.


This story can be read here:


This story can be listened to here: (in ten sections: total time approx. 3 & half hours)


Title: “The Entail”
Author: E. T. A. Hoffmann (1776-1822)
First published: 1885 in English; originally “Das Majorat” [German] (1817)
Length: novella

Review of “The Dreams in the Witch House” by H. P. Lovecraft: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Walter Gilman, a student at (fictional) Miskatonic University in (fictional) Arkham, Massachusetts, deliberately rented the tower room in the old house where accused witch Keziah Mason disappeared in 1692. His fields of study include “non-Euclidean calculus and quantum physics.” He also has an interest in folklore, all of which leads him to trace multidimensional space.

The room is oddly portioned; the ceiling slants to meet a wall that tilts inward. There may be an attic above his room, but the landlord says it’s been sealed off for ages and won’t hear talk of exploring what might or might not be there. The locals talk of an indescribable creature that darts rat-like around town. They’ve named it Brown Jenkin.

When Keziah Mason disappeared from the same room where Gilman sleeps and studies, “the jailer had gone mad and babbled of a small white-fanged furry thing which scuttled out of Keziah’s cell, and not even Cotton Mather could explain the curves and angles smeared on the grey stone walls with some red, sticky fluid.”

Gilman dreams. He sees shadows, which eventually resolve into a bent old woman and a rat-like creature with a human face and beard. He begins to sleepwalk, even discovering mud on his feet in the morning. Are his dreams really dreams? Or is he going somewhere?

A child goes missing from one of the poor families in town. Her mother says she’s not surprised; Brown Jenkin has been spotted, and everyone knows Walpurgisnacht, the night of the witches’ Sabbat, is approaching.

Thoughts:

I have to warn any potential readers that this story is gory and deals with the deaths of children.

Perhaps because it mentions the Elder Things, Nyarlathotep, The Necronomicon, The Book of Eibon, and Unaussprechlichen Kulten*, the story is associated with the Cthulhu Mythos.

Poor Gilman sees a connection between modern knowledge of mathematics and science and the knowledge of the old wise women. Somehow, Keziah learned to travel in extra-dimensional space that modern science is just now finding out about.

At one point, the reader is told, “Possibly, Gilman ought not to have studied so hard.” He found the records of Keziah’s trial fascinating. She admitted to the judge at the Court of Oyer and Terminer that one could use lines and curves to point out directions leading through the walls of space to other spaces beyond and implied that such lines and curves “were frequently used at certain midnight meetings.”

This was Judge John Hathorne, a historical person and an ancestor of the writer Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Much of the action is in dreams that say more than the words. Why doesn’t Gilman leave? When he starts sleepwalking, why doesn’t he take measures against it? The dreams terrify and confuse him. But they’re only dreams, right? Gilman isn’t evil. He’s merely curious. The things that happen to him do so because he dares to look in places others are too afraid (or too wise) to do so.

This tale is sad and gory. It poses an intriguing question; those with the wits and the will to ask questions suffer for their efforts.




Bio: H.P. (Howard Phillips) Lovecraft (1890-1937) was an American writer of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. He is best known as the creator of the Cthulhu myths, which involve “cosmic horror,” that is, a horror that arises from the dangers that surround us mortals, but remain so far from our everyday lives that we don’t and can’t see them. Those who seek knowledge of it are often driven insane or die.

Lovecraft originally wanted to be a professional astronomer. He maintained a voluminous correspondence, particularly with other writers. Though his work is now revered as seminal in horror and dark fantasy, he died in poverty at the age of 46 of cancer of the small intestine at his birthplace, Providence, Rhode Island.

Lovecraft was an early contributor to Weird Tales magazine in the 1920s. Among his best-known works are “The Dunwich Horror,” “Dagon,” and “The Call of Cthulhu.”


This story can be read here:


This story can be listened to here: (1:37:50)


*The Elder Things are fictional aliens. Nyarlathotep is a vicious deity, often seen as the messenger of Azathoth, the ruler of the Outer Gods. The Necronomicon is the fictional grimoire of Lovecraft. The Book of Eibon is a fictional book of Clark Ashton Smith’s, having to do with a wizard’s journeys and magic. Unaussprechlichen Kulten (Unspoken Cults) is a fictional book by Robert E. Howard. These are all part of the Cthulhu Mythos.


Title: “The Dreams in the Witch House”
Author: H. P. Lovecraft (1890-1937)
First published: Weird Tales, July 1933
Length: novelette
Series: Cthulhu Mythos (Lovecraft originals)


Review of “The Dead Woman” by David H. Keller: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Plot:

The authorities find Mr. Thompson, a bookkeeper, “slightly confused, a trifle bewildered, but otherwise apparently normal.” He makes no effort to conceal his conduct, the knife in his hand, or “the pieces in the trunk.”

Rather than taking him directly to the slammer, the police bring him to a psychiatrist.

Mr. Thompson tells the psychiatrist that he and his wife were happy enough. They didn’t quarrel much. About a year earlier, he noticed his wife’s health begin to fail. She coughed and lost weight but refused to see a doctor. His mother-in-law laughed and told him that if he’d make Lizzie happy again, she’d soon be fat once more.

The coughing grew worse. It got so bad that he started sleeping in the spare room.

After one especially bad fit, she stopped coughing. The house was so quiet that Mr. Thomspon began to fear the worst had happened. He went into his wife’s room and turned on the light. On seeing her, he “just knew it was over.” He called a doctor.

The doctor came, listened to her heart, and took her pulse.

“She’s fine,” he said. “Just fast asleep. I wish I could sleep as soundly as that. You worry too much about her, Mr. Thompson.”

Mr. Thompson was dismayed. Though only a bookkeeper and not a doctor, he knew something was wrong. Why did no one take him seriously? Either he was wrong, and the rest of the world was right, or he was right, and the rest of the world was wrong. He was pretty sure he was right.

Mrs. Thompson got worse. It was not just the coughing, but her cheeks sank in. Later, flies appeared, to be followed by even worse things—

Thoughts:

The story is primarily sad. How reliable is the narrator? Perhaps he believes what he relates is the truth, but is it? Could Mr. Thompson actually be wrong about his wife’s deterioration and the rest of the world right? Could he have done this horrible deed under a delusion of sorts?

The horror in this piece is not that a woman could have somehow existed as a walking corpse, annoying and then repulsing her husband. That’s gross and sickening. The horror lies in a mentally ill man thinking his wife was dead and then killing and dismembering the perfectly healthy woman whom he loved.

The author leaves few mysteries. The reader knows in the first paragraphs that Mr. Thompson has killed. The unraveling of the circumstances and the motivations make up the rest of the story. Does it change the way the reader sees Mr. Thompson?

I liked this short read, even though it was so sad. As the reader, I want to know why he would do such a thing. He was narrating the story and would tell me what was on his mind—maybe.

Bio: David H. Keller, M.D. (1880-1966) was an American writer, physician, and psychiatrist. During WWI, he treated soldiers with PTSD, then known as shell shock. He is best known for his science fiction writing, but he also wrote fantasy and horror. In addition, he wrote a series involving occult detective Taine of San Francisco.


This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here :(19:36)

Title: “The Dead Woman”
Author: David H. Keller (1880-1966)
First published: Fantasy Magazine, April 1935
Length: short story

Review of “Count Magnus” by M. R. James: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Plot:

The story’s narrator says he has come into possession of some papers belonging to Mr. Wraxall, a traveler and writer of travel guides. In the early summer of 1863, Mr. Wraxall sets off to explore Sweden. At the time, most Britons considered Scandinavia to be a backwater.

Snobs.

He spends time conducting research at a herrgård (manor house) called Råbäck, located outside Stockholm. The estate dates to around 1600 and was built by the De la Gardie family, whose descendants still reside there.

Mr. Wraxall notices a portrait of De la Gardie ancestor, Magnus, and calls him an “almost phenomenally ugly man.” He inquires of the innkeeper where he’s staying about what the local lore says regarding what kind of man Count Magnus was.

He is not a favorite. He tortured and beat tenants for showing up late to work. Once or twice, a house with all inside burned down if it was on land the count wanted. The count also made the Black Pilgrimage and brought back something or someone.

When Mr. Wraxall asks what the Black Pilgrimage is, the innkeeper becomes busy elsewhere.

Nearby, the eight-sided mausoleum of the De la Gardie ancestors stands next to a church. The church is open, but the mausoleum is locked.

“Ah, Count Magnus, there you are. I should dearly like to see you,” Mr. Wraxall says to the mausoleum.

Really? Dude, maybe all that blåbärssoppa (blueberry/bilberry soup) didn’t agree with you?

Nevertheless, Mr. Wraxall glances inside the mausoleum and sees statues and three coffins. Two have crosses atop them. The third has a bas-relief showing disturbing scenes of war, an execution, and a black-cloaked figure chasing a man into the woods.

Thoughts:

This story shares many similarities with other James stories I’ve read; a researcher, unknowingly, yet perhaps foolishly, awakens an ancient evil that comes back to haunt him. In most stories, the protagonist walks away a scared but wiser man, having escaped a close shave with evil and/or death.

The story begins slowly, letting the reader know that it will not end happily for Mr. Wraxall. This took the wind out of the sails for me. If you’re going to bore me, at least give the protagonist a fighting chance.

In all seriousness, it’s not that bad. Once the creepy stuff starts, it grows like a snowball rolling downhill, aimed at an innocent and unsuspecting victim at the bottom of the hill.

The innkeeper at last tells the gruesome story of a Black Pilgrimage without precisely defining it. When Mr. Wraxall gains entry to the De la Gardie mausoleum, he notices one of the three locks on the count’s coffin has dropped off. Hmmm….

James often includes some subtle humor in his stories. I didn’t see it here. If it is hidden in the cluelessness of the unfortunate Mr. Wraxall, that strikes me as simple cruelty rather than a deserving miscreant getting his comeuppance.

My feelings about the story are mixed. On the one hand, I liked the creepiness—on the other, I disliked the slow start and the cruel, undeserved fate of the main character.

Bio: M. R. (Montague Rhodes) James (1862-1936) was a British linguist and biblical scholar. He was Provost of King’s College, Cambridge, and later of Eton. He told ghost stories to his fellow dons at Christmas. His tales tend to find the supernatural in the everyday, unlike the earlier Gothic tales, which focus on atmosphere—graveyards, abandoned houses, weather, and so on. His work was enormously influential. H. P. Lovecraft was among his admirers. Several of his stories have been adapted for television. Among his most well-known is “Oh, Whistle and I’ll Come to You, My Lad.”


This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (36:57)


Title: “Count Magnus”
Author: M. R. James (1862-1936)
First published: Ghost-Stories of an Antiquary, 1904
Length: short story

Review of “The Coach” by Violet Hunt: Halloween Countdown

Getty Images and tip o’ the hat to Tracy

Plot:

An older man in a gray frock coat waits in a storm for a coach. The rain runs down the back of his suit; he has neither luggage nor an umbrella. It’s St. John’s Eve, midsummer. The coach arrives. The driver, wrapped against the weather, appears to have no head. The man in gray boards, unhurried, indeed, almost disappointed. At least the mud hasn’t marred the exquisite polish of his shoes.

Among the other passengers is a woman dressed in furs and jewels—an easy draw for thieves, the man in gray surmises. The other passengers include a jovial man in corduroy with a handkerchief around his neck, a woman “of the people,” and a man who sits withdrawn in a corner and says little.

The man in the gray frock coat knows none of the others.

The man in corduroy greets him and says, “Well, mate! They’ve chosen a rare rough night to shift us on! Orders from headquarters, I suppose? I’ve been here nigh on a year and never set eyes on the boss.”

What a strange thing to say. What is he talking about?

“We used to call him God the Father,” the man in the gray frock says.”

Oh. A rather ostentatious name for a boss—particularly if these two men don’t know each other. Wait—are they dead? And they know it? Where is the coachman headed?

Thoughts:

The story is not frightening as much as it is sad. None of the passengers led a happy life. Most were unconnected in life, but one crucial connection is revealed. Yet, they realize they’ve left this world behind. Their ultimate destination is unknown.

The “woman of the people” was, in life, a baby farmer, something I was unfamiliar with. Baby farming was the practice of taking unwanted infants—for a fee—and raising them often in poor circumstances. The “woman of the people” admits to killing children for the convenience of their parents, like drowning unwanted litters of puppies or kittens. When everyone shrinks from her, she calls them hypocrites. She provided a vital service.

In my ten-minute internet search, I could find no customs that connect St. John’s Eve with death or the underworld. It’s dedicated to John the Baptist, born six months before Jesus of Nazareth (so the story goes). It is also associated with the summer solstice. In the days of yore, people often lit bonfires and had parties. I cannot discern its significance in the story. I am willing to be enlightened by any folklorist out there.

This story was an interesting, sad little read. If not in my top ten, it is still worth the time to see the perspective of the dead looking back on their lives.



Bio: Violet Hunt (legal name: Isobel Violet Hunt) (1866-1942) was a British novelist, short story writer, journalist, feminist, suffragist, and hostess. Her novels were feminist rather than supernatural, though she wrote two collections of supernatural short stories. Aside from her writing, she was well-known for her literary salons. She founded the Women Writers’ Suffrage League in 1908 and participated in the founding of International PEN (now known as PEN International), a writer’s group dedicated to literary freedom.



Oddly, I could not find a text version of this story.

This story can be listened to here: (45:11)


Title: “The Coach”
Author: Violet Hunt (legal name: Isobel Violet Hunt) (1862-1942)
First published: The English Review, March 1909
Length: short story