Review of “The Waxwork” by A. M. Burrage: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 31—Happy Halloween!

Plot:

Down-on-his-luck Journalist Raymond Hewson has arranged to spend the night at Marriner’s Waxworks Murderers’ Den. Hewson is freelancing, hoping to sell his story to The Morning Echo. The manager of Marriner’s promises him a five-pound note once the story is published.

Hewson wasn’t looking forward to the task, but he had a wife and family to support. Plus, he thought that a well-received story might lead to regular employment—and then there would be that five-pound note.

He assures the manager he does not believe in ghosts. His employers have told him he’s not one for imagination, either.

The manager says he won’t be locked in. He can leave at any time. There is lighting in the basement where the exhibit is, but it is dim. He’ll hear footsteps above, but those will belong to the night watchman. The only thing he insists on is that Hewson not smoke. Someone raised an alarm about a fire earlier in the evening, which happily turned out to be false. Nevertheless, nerves are still jittery.

The people represented by the wax figures in Murderers’ Den had all been hanged except for Dr. Bourdette, the Parisian equivalent to Jack the Ripper. By day, he practiced medicine, and by night, he slit people’s throats with a razor. It was believed he mesmerized people before he killed them.

The manager leaves. Hewson turns away from Dr. Bourdette and his unsettling eyes. He writes a few lines that he thinks are catchy and thinks of his wife, Rose, at home.

Wait—something moved.

No, nothing moved. They’re just wax figures.

Thoughts:

This tale is atmospheric, but mostly it’s sad. Hewson may be a failure “through his lack of self-assertion,” as the author tells us, but he wants to succeed the old-fashioned way. He’s willing to take a job he won’t enjoy to keep the wolf at bay. He loves his wife and family,

The author introduces him by noting, “His clothes, which had been good when new and which were still carefully brushed and pressed, were beginning to show signs of their owner’s losing battle with the world.”

The reader hopes Hewson is successful. The best thing would be for this guy who’s been going through hard times to come across some evil, overcome it, and receive a handsome reward. Let him return home in triumph to the family he loves.

Yeah, not so easy.

I liked the short tale for the atmosphere it created.

Bio: A. M. Burrage (Alfred McLelland Burrage) (1889-1956) was a UK novelist and short story writer active from 1905 into the 1940s. Because he wrote under several pseudonyms and in various genres, it’s difficult to know the total number of stories he published. He is best known now for his ghost stories, but he also wrote for boys’ magazines, stories about black magic, and a satire in an Arthurian setting.


Unfortunately, I can’t find a text version.

The story can be listened to here:


Title: “The Waxwork”
Author: A. M. Burrage (Alfred McLelland Burrage) (1889-1956)
First published: Someone in the Room, 1931
Length: short story

Gotta fly!

Image by Alexa from Pixabay

Hope your Halloween is happy and safe.

Review of “The Viy” by Nikolai Gogol: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 30

Plot:

Three seminary students—Khalava, a theologian and thief; Thomas Brutus, a philosopher; and Tiberius Gorobetz, a rhetorician— in the town of Kieff (Kiev?) get lost on their way home for the summer break. They find lodging with a begrudging old woman, who insists they take separate rooms. Hardly has Thomas Brutus laid his head down, when the old woman enters his room.

“Well, mother, what do you want here?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer, but advances with her arms outstretched. Terrified, he jumps up but finds he can’t move. He can’t push her away. He crosses his hands over his breast and bends his head. The old woman springs atop his shoulders and rides him “like a racehorse.”

Not till they’ve left the house behind does Thomas think, “She’s a witch!”

They continue for a bit, then the seminary student recalls prayers of exorcism. They’re back on the ground; he mounts her shoulders and rides her to exhaustion. As she’s dying, she transforms into a beautiful young woman.

Thomas, who has no family waiting for him, has had enough. He heads back to Kieff, bums around a bit, being fed by a friendly widow. Word comes from the rector of the seminary that a colonel’s daughter is dying. She has requested the seminarian Thomas Brutus recite prayers for the dead for three days after her death.

Thomas has no idea who the colonel or his daughter are and is no hurry to perform this service, even though the colonel will pay and is sending transportation. He’s been drafted.

Thoughts:

One of the joys of this story is the language and the portraits of the characters. Khalava is not just a thief, but “everything which came within reach of his fingers he felt obliged to appropriate.” At one point, one of his friends relieves him of stolen fish he’s hidden in his pocket. Later, the friend enjoys the thief’s fish in his room—alone.

Much of the description and even some of the action is surreal. Thomas arrives at the colonel’s home late at night. He and his escort sleep in a small barn. He wakes and looks outside to see “the [colonel’s] house seemed to turn into a bear” and “the chimney [turned] into the rector of the seminary.”

While the old woman is “riding” him, he:

“looked down and saw how the grass beneath his feet seemed to be quite deep and far away; over it there flowed a flood of crystal-clear water, and the grassy plain looked like the bottom of a transparent sea. He saw his own image, and that of the old woman whom he carried on his back, clearly reflected in it. Then he beheld how, instead of the moon, a strange sun shone there; he heard the deep tones of bells, and saw them swinging. He saw a water-nixie rise from a bed of tall reeds…”

Perhaps those whose minds are cleaner than mine will overlook the sexual imagery in being approached by a stranger in one’s bed and then taking turns “being ridden.” Thomas uses his prayers of exorcism not to escape the witch, but the dominate her and exhaust her. When she’s no longer a threat, he notices the church steeples of Kieff, leaves her for dead and flees back home, where a friendly widow takes care of him.

Really, would you want this guy dating your sister?

A casual brutality weaves it way through the tale, but there is also humor. In the market, sellers call out the merits of their wares, while decrying the personal hygiene of their rivals.

While there were a few see-it-comings and not all punishments fit the crimes, I liked this tale, especially enjoyed the surrealism.

Bio: Nikolai Gogol (1809-1852) was a Russian writer, playwright, and satirist of Ukrainian background. His writings tended toward the surreal. They were influential in the 19th century. Perhaps his most famous story is “The Overcoat.”


The story can be read here:

The story can be listened to here: (1:41:52)



Title: “The Viy”
Author: Nikolai Gogol (1809-1852)
First published: Russian 1835; First English translation: The Mantle and Other Stories, 1916
Length: novelette

Review of “Thurnley Abbey” by Perceval Landon: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 29

Plot:

The unnamed narrator, traveling across Europe, meets Alastair Colvin aboard a train. They will then board a ship. Alastair makes an unusual request to the narrator when the two know each other only casually: “Will you let me sleep in your cabin on the Osiris?” The narrator hems and haws and tries to put off giving a definite answer.

Colvin understands his reluctance. To explain himself, he tells the narrator a story about his friend Broughton, who inherited a place called Thurnley Abbey. It had been long neglected, and Broughton found it impossible to get workers to stay after dark. They believed the spirit of a nun who was once immured at the abbey now haunts the place.

Despite expressing his annoyance with the workers, Broughton says he can’t dismiss the possibility of ghosts. “My own idea,” said he, “is that if a ghost ever does come in one’s way, one ought to speak to it.”

The narrator agrees and adds that from little he knows of ghosts, he understands that a spook was, in honor, bound to wait to be spoken to.

After some months, the repairs are finished. Broughton marries.

A letter comes with a request for Colvin to come to Thurnley Abbey and render a service for Broughton.

The request puzzles Colvin. Broughton is a capable man. What could he possibly need?

Thoughts:

The frame within a frame slows the story, but if the reader can hang on and wait till the appearance of the big scary thing, it is worth it. Not only is the big bad thing apt to scare the bejesus out of the reader but watching the humans react to it is worth some time on the couch with a pencil and pad.

The story is gothic and nicely atmospheric, even before the good stuff hits the fan. Why does Colvin want to sleep in the cabin of a guy he just met? (This is 1907, long before one spoke openly of casual sex—let alone gay casual sex).

The story also turned a couple of conventions on their heads.

I liked it.

Bio: Perceval Landon (1869-1927) was an English journalist, war correspondent, and writer. He was friends with Rudyard Kipling. He traveled widely and wrote non-fiction accounts of his travels, such as The Opening of Tibet (1905). His one collection of short stories was Raw Edges (1908).


This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (59:43)


Title: “Thurnley Abbey
Author: Perceval Landon (1869-1927)
First published: McClure’s Magazine, 1907
Length: short story

Review of “The Testament of Magdalen Blair” by Aleister Crowley: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 28

I feel obligated to add that this story advocates suicide. There is no depiction of it, but the argument for it is, IMHO, overwrought to say the least, and—if it needs to be said—sad.

Plot:

Magdalen Blair resolves to warn mankind (I’m sure she means to include women, too) to follow her example and then explode a dynamite cartridge in her mouth.

Weel, now, that’s a bit extreme…

Magdalen was a good student in her science classes. She excels in noting differences. She can also read minds and anticipate some events, like the day she knew fellow-student Gladys was about to faint before anyone, including Gladys, did.

Professor Blair takes her aside for a few “parlor tricks,” which become a series of formalized experiments, which in turn (…of course…) lead to marriage. After a few ups and downs, the Professor becomes ill with Bright’s Disease (inflammation of the kidneys).

The psychic connection between Magdalen and her husband increases but remains one-way. She can read his mind and experience all the agony and pain as he grows increasingly ill.

Even as he slips into a coma, she experiences what he experiences….

Thoughts:

This story has eighteen chapters, each only two to three pages long. Perhaps the author thought short chapters would relieve some of the heaviness of the material. It is a downer.

The main character begins with her extreme comment about her chosen method of suicide. Even in her happier (so to speak) days, she doesn’t seem to enjoy much of life. Her marriage and honeymoon are pleasant but passionless.

When they return from their honeymoon, Magdalen falls ill. In parsing the delicate language, I gather she miscarried and required a hysterectomy. (“…the course of the illness revealed a condition which demanded the most complete series of operations which a woman can endure.”)

The only comment about this is, “Not only the past hope, but all future hope, was annihilated.”

There is no mourning, no weeping over baby booties or her own health. She notes that as she’s recovering, she can read minds again, a capability she temporarily lost while on her honeymoon (while pregnant?).

While there are several intriguing aspects to this tale, overall, I found it unpleasant—not unpleasant enough to stick a dynamite in my mouth, but I will not read this again. I cannot recommend others do so, either. However, I do recommend avoiding putting dynamite in one’s mouth.

Bio: Aleister Crowley (1875-1947) was a UK occultist, writer, poet, and ritual magician. He founded his own religion, Thelema, which centered on the command, “Do what thou wilt.” His mystical writings became popular in the 60s.


This is really the best online version I could find:

I could not find a reliable source for an audio version of this story, or one that didn’t want to offer a free (*cough*) trial of something.


Title: “The Testament of Magdalen Blair”
Author: Aleister Crowley (1875-1947)
First published: The Equinox, Vol. 1, No. 9, 1913.
Length: novelette

Review of “Up Under the Roof” by Manly Wade Wellman: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 27:

Plot:

The narrator looks back to being a twelve-year-old boy in a house full of adults who didn’t pay much attention to him.

The boy has trouble sleeping in the summer heat. His upstairs room is under a gable, and the sun hits the sloping roof with little insulation. He hears every rustle of the cottonwood trees outside. Other noises start coming from under the roof and above the ceiling.

Can’t be rats. Rats run. This just moves. Years later, he would see an amoeba under a microscope. It moves like a huge amoeba.

It soon comes every night and then during the day.

The boy knows there’s no sense in talking to the adults in the house about the noises. They won’t believe him, nor do they care. They once stood without lifting a finger to help while a fifteen-year-old neighbor boy gave him a thorough thrashing. Only when the older boy grew tired did he go home. The narrator received no sympathy but a scolding.

His one attempt to ask if anyone heard something in the night earns him a reprimand for interrupting a discussion about local politics.

One day, when he’s home alone, the boy goes into the attic to find what’s making the noises.

Thoughts:

This short tale is crafted with its aim toward the final encounter. The main character is isolated and without resources. He’s terrified and left without anywhere to turn. He finally decides to confront his demon himself.

It reads almost like a memoir. Is it all in the boy’s imagination? Is there some malign presence up under the roof trying to scare the bejesus out of him? He is without adult help or guidance. He does the only thing left to him.

The tale is nicely atmospheric and suspenseful rather than bloody. It will not appeal to everyone, but I liked it.

Bio: Manly Wade Wellman (1903-1986) was born in a village named Kamundongo, near the city of Silva Porto (now Cuíto) in Portuguese West Africa (now Angola), where his father was stationed as a medical officer. The family came to the United States when Wellman was a small child. Wellman wrote mostly fantasy works and some sci-fi with a few Westerns and crime dramas. One of his most well-known works was the John the Balladeer series.


The story can be read here (p. 179 after downloading pdf):viewer doesn’t always load.

The story can be listened to here:(12:05)


Title: “Up Under the Roof”
Author: Manly Wade Wellman (1903-1986)
First Published: Weird Tales, October 1938
Length: short story

Review of “The Sumach” by Ulric Daubeny: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 26

Plot:

Mrs. Irene Barton and her friend Mrs. May Watcombe discuss the unusual appearance of the sumach (more commonly spelled sumac) tree in the garden of Irene’s new house. The leaves have turned red early in August.

Irene is sad. Her husband is away in London. Only two days earlier, she lost her dog Spot. She shows her friend the dog’s little grave under the sumach. They find a dead thrush.

Mrs. Watcombe says she hasn’t seen the leaves this red since Geraldine was ill with acute anemia.

Irene tells her it’s only the summer heat turning the leaves.

Later, because of the heat, Irene can’t sleep. She gets up, goes outside, and walks to the tree. Its trunk and branches are bent as if making a little couch. She sits, drowses, and dreams of welcoming her husband, Hilary, back from London. The dream becomes a nightmare. His embrace is rough, and his kisses painful.

Thoughts:

While not what one would call great literature, this tale has a certain penny-dreadful charm. Poor Irene! Her husband/protector is away. She’s just lost her dog. There’s only nosey Mrs. Watcombe around in her new house, which belonged to her cousin, Geraldine. And Geraldine succumbed to anemia about as quickly as any human can. No wonder Mrs. Watcombe panics when she sees Irene looking pale and wan!

Mrs. Watcombe does not like the sumach tree. Something is wrong with it. Maybe Snidley Whiplash lurks behind its prematurely red leaves?

Cue the player piano.

It’s another story where the reader wants to grab some of the characters, shake them, and say, “Stop doing that! It’s not good for you!”

The end is not a surprise, and the explanation is… goofy. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this lightweight little yarn.

Bio: Ulric Daubeny (1888-1922) I could find little about this British author. He seems to have written one book of speculative fiction, The Elemental: Tales of the Supernormal and the Inexplicable (1919), a book on Cotswold churches, and another on the history of musical instruments. What wide-ranging tastes.


The text can be read here:(p. 28)

The story can be listened to here: (23:59)


Title: “The Sumach”
Author: Ulric Daubeny (1888-1922)
First Published: The Elemental: Tales of the Supernormal and the Inexplicable, 1919
Length: short story

Review of “The Spider” by Hanns Heinz Ewers: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 25

Plot:

Medical student Richard Bracquemont tells the police inspector he has a plan to help solve the mystery of three recent suicides. He’ll move into the room where they occurred, #7 of the Hotel Stevens, Rue Alfred Stevens (Paris 6). Against his better judgment, the inspector accepts. He has a phone installed and calls twice daily, morning and evening. He’s especially eager to have this business solved. The last man who died was one of their own who had volunteered. He was a marine sergeant who chased sea pirates in places like Tonkin and Annam (Vietnam).

Bracquemont has no plan. He doesn’t even have a plan for a plan—but he figures this will give him a chance to do some studying.

One day, he sees her in a window in the building across the way from his room. She’s beautiful. He’s surprised that she’s spinning on a spindle. Do people still use spindles? They exchange nods. And smiles. He knows without being told that her name is Clarimonda.

His books stop being so important.

When the inspector calls, Bracquemont tells him he’s found a clue he won’t discuss just yet. He’s looking out the window, smiling and exchanging gestures with Clarimonda…

Thoughts:

This story is gothic in atmosphere. Most of the narrative is told in diary entries by Bracquemont with heavy foreshadowing. Early in the story, Bracquemont watches two spiders mate, after which the female spider pursues and consumes the male spider.

“Well for me that I am not a spider,” he writes.

Uh-huh.

The name “Clarimonda” hearkens back to an 1836 story by Théophile Gautier, “La Morte Amoureuse” (“The Dead Lover”). English translations are titled “Clarimonde” and “The Dead Leman,” among others. In Gautier’s story, a priest lives a second life at night with a dream vampire lover named Clarimonde.

Both Gautier and Ewers’ stories speak of the femme fatale, those naughty women who seduce men to destruction.

Bracquemont knows precisely what he’s gotten himself into. At several points, he explains that he could extricate himself—if he wanted to. He writes of attraction and love, coupled with fear and revulsion.

This is a creepy story, but it is also suffused with black humor. Its weak point is the ending, which is predictable. Nevertheless, I liked it, though I was screaming, “Get you derrière out of there, you âne!” for most of the read.

Bio: Hanns Heinz Ewers (1871-1943) was a German writer, filmmaker, traveler, cabaret artist, and actor. Many of his works remain untranslated from German. In the English-speaking world, he’s most closely associated with horror. He was involved with the Nazi Party in its early days, but apparently they didn’t take to his kind. He liked to date guys, for one thing. His most well-known novels are the Frank Braun series, which are not for the kiddies and involve witchcraft, sadism, and other gruesome stuff.


The story can be read here. (p. 237 Internet Archive. Must be logged in)

This story can be listened to here:(42:45)


Title: “The Spider” (Original German “Die Spinne” (1908))
Author: Hanns Heinz Ewers (1871-1943)
First published in English: The International, December 1915
Length: novelette

Review of “Seaton’s Aunt” by Walter de la Mare: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

For October 24

Plot:

In exchange for a lavish treat, the narrator, Withers, agrees to spend a holiday with an unpopular boy, Arthur Seaton. Seaton appears “yellow” in color, with “slow chocolate-coloured eyes, and lean weak figure.” Because of his appearance, “most… true-blue Englishmen” treat him with condescension, hostility, or contempt.

A day or two before the holiday, Seaton reminds his reluctant houseguest of his promise to stay with him. “My aunt expects you. She’s sure to be quite decent to you.”

When they arrive at Arthur’s home, Miss Seaton greets them and tells Withers (whose name she often mistakes), “Come in, Mr. Withers, and bring him [that is, Arthur] along with you.”

She serves them an extravagant lunch, asking questions about her nephew, such as, “And is Arthur a good boy at school, Mr. Wither [sic]?”

Arthur eats mostly almonds and raisins.

That night, Withers is awakened by a terrified Arthur, warning him about the watchers and that his aunt knows everything he does. Withers dismisses these tales. Arthur insists his aunt barely sleeps. She’s in league with the devil.

To humor him, Withers agrees to sneak with Arthur into his aunt’s bedroom. The room is empty, but before they can leave, they hear her coming and quickly hide in the closet. After she falls asleep, they crawl back to bed. Arthur is beside himself.

They return to school the next day and never speak of the incident. Arthur leaves the school not much later.

They meet twice again as adults, the last time when Arthur is engaged

Thoughts:

This is a strange, sad little story. De la Mare weaves an air of menace around the aunt. At the same time, it’s easy to dismiss—as Withers does—that it was all schoolboy nonsense. At one point, Arthur says that his aunt “as good as killed” his mother. Is there any truth to that? The reader doesn’t know. By the end of the story, it’s credible, but no evidence is ever offered.

Miss Seaton offers sardonic comments, calling Withers “Mr.” when it’s unwarranted and seeking his evaluation of her nephew as if he were an adult. Later, she plays sentimental music for the engaged couple but with a sarcastic tinge.

The horror here is subtle, making the reader uncomfortable, as if things are off-kilter. The aunt’s hatred and abuse of her nephew are real but intangible. No one sees the harm, so it’s easy to disbelieve what Arthur says. After all, he’s not hurting for pocket money, is he?

Some details are not given at the end of the story, but they were never the point. The point, IMseldomHO, had to deal with Withers’ actions or inaction.

To the 21st-century reader, it might appear to meander, but it is nicely told.

Bio: Walter de la Mare (1873-1956) was a prolific UK poet and writer. He wrote hundreds of poems and more than 100 short stories. He wrote sophisticated fantasy and fairy tales for children and ghost and horror stories for adults. H. P. Lovecraft admired his writing. Notable among his works are the novel The Return and the short story collection Eight Tales.


This story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (1:19:04)


Title: “Seaton’s Aunt”
Author: Walter de la Mare (1873-1956)
First published: The London Mercury, April 1922
Length: novelette

Review of “The Screaming Skull” by F. Marion Crawford: Halloween Countdown

Image by SplitShire from Pixabay

Plot:

Retired Captain Braddock has come to live in his late cousin Luke Pratt’s house. Cousin Luke was a doctor. His wife pre-deceased him. Their son was killed (in the Boer War?) in South Africa.

Braddock isn’t nervous—so he keeps telling his unnamed houseguest, who is also an old sailor. He’s heard the skull scream often. Hear it now? A noise never hurt anyone.

While Luke and his wife were still alive, Braddock had dinner with them. They were joking, and he told them a story about a gruesome form of murder he’d heard about.

Mrs. Pratt died soon after.

Braddock was saddened when he heard about Mrs. Pratt’s passing. He never meant her any harm. She was a charming, friendly woman. Yet he doesn’t examine the matter too closely. Mrs. Pratt had a heart attack, right? Heart attacks are common enough.

The skull comes into his possession after his cousin’s death. It wants to stay in the best bedroom, in a particular bandbox. Is it Mrs. Pratt’s? Braddock is not positive. After all, the skull might be one Luke came across in his student days… right?

Thoughts:

Crawford borrows a device from Poe: the first-person narrator, who is not at all nervous or guilty about the nefarious goings-on, tells his story. He speaks to a friend, recalling their days on the sea. Braddock admits to his part in the tragedies, though he never bore anyone ill will. What’s the sense in examining the matter too closely? The skull hates him, and he knows it.

This is quite effective. The reader is taken into Braddock’s confidence—and creeped out. Is your cousin’s house that nice that you want to stay in it with a skull that screams? And uh, nunthin’ on yer conscience, is there?

The weirdness of the story builds. Without electricity, lamps go out at bad times and candles refuse to light.

I rather liked this gruesome little tale of vengeance biting one on the hind end.

An apparently forgettable movie by the same name came out loosely based on this story. From what little I’ve seen of it, one might surmise that Crawford didn’t come back from the grave and shriek himself is proof that the dead don’t come back.

Bio: F. (Francis) Marion Crawford (1854-1909) was an American novelist and short story writer who spent much of his adult life in his birthplace of Italy. He also lived in India and learned Sanskrit. His father, a sculptor, died while the writer was young. His family boasted of several writers, including his aunt, the abolitionist Julia Ward Howe. On his mother’s side, he descended from Revolutionary War officer Francis Marion, also called the Swamp Fox. Crawford’s writing was renowned for its vivid settings and characterizations. Though his novels are seldom read now, his supernatural and ghost short stories are still often anthologized


The story can be read here:

This story can be listened to here: (1:12:04)


Title: “The Screaming Skull”
Author: F. Marion Crawford (1854-1909)
First Published: Collier’s (serialized), July 1908
Length: novelette