Come, dear friends. Come and pull your chairs, stools and (noncombustible) beanbags closer to our fire - for tonight we will have much need of its warmth.
But wait! Was that a gnarled face I saw flash at the window pane? Listen! Can you hear a distant (but heavy) panting?
Frightened yet? I didn't think so. But you will be. You will be…
*Cough*…By all that, of course, I mean hello and thanks for showing up. The fact that you're reading these words on this bleak Monday night (a night heavily pregnant with menace) means that you've foolishly joined the accursed thing we like to call - The Dreadful Thoughts Story Club. Sinéad and I (your hosts) bid you welcome.
Last Wednesday we set the group its homework for today, in the shape of M. R. James' fantastically creepy "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad".
Now let's uncork those bottles of blood-red wine, light a few candles, steel our ragged nerves, and get this party started. Over to you Sinéad.
Sinéad says:
My unswerving grá for the ghost story goes back to when I was probably too young to be reading them. It was on my parents' book shelf that I discovered a cache of Alfred Hitchcock-edited ghost story collections. One was Bar The Doors, another, with a fantastically eerie/trippy cover was Ghostly Gallery. Next to those were several books linked by subject and geography: Irish/Scottish/English Tales of Terror full of inexplicable happenings in small towns and castles, of banshees, corpses and witches.
Why do we love scary stories? Perhaps because of what Edith Wharton called their "thermometrical quality". By which she meant "if it sends a cold shiver down one's spine, it has done its job and done it well". As a huge fan of the short story in its broadest sense, I love that so many writers you wouldn't expect to have written ghost stories, have attempted a spooky tale. Writers like Paul Bowles, Elizabeth Bowen, A. S. Byatt, Somerset Maugham, Nadine Gordimer, Graham Greene, V. S. Pritchett, Isaac Bashevis Singer, and Fay Weldon. But we start our first Dreadful Thoughts discussion with the undisputed champion of the supernatural story: M.R. James. I look forward to hearing everyone's thoughts and suggestions for upcoming tales to discuss.
Me again:
Just to re-emphasise - the club is intended as a pace for informal conversation/discussion about selected short horror tales.
It's all about interaction so please don't hesitate to pop any and every casual/random/bonkers thought you have about tonight's story into the comments section below.
This is (we promise)Note: Promise not legally binding! a social and friendly environment where the only thing you need fear is a nocturnal visit from an entity whose face is composed of crumpled linen. Aaaaarrrghh!
And away we go…
First things first - What’s everyone’s tipple? I went with Nederburg Pinotage 2005. Robust but cheeky, like a grinning, short-trousered child.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:00 pmNice list to start with Sinéad - Dickens had a story or two too…
March 10th, 2008 at 8:01 pmRuns down stairs and picks up the first bottle to hand… Port!? (Granny’s been shopping)
March 10th, 2008 at 8:02 pmBut does he fall into the category of writers you would expect or those you wouldn’t?
The “woulds” include Le Fanu, Lovecraft, Shirley Jackson, Algernon Blackwood and a host of others that we’ll hopefully get to soon.
As for your port - have it hot. It’s slightly more exciting and less granny-ish that way.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:05 pmOk, I’m here but have a wakeful baba on my hands so might have to scarper now and then. I have yet to open my Tesco Fair Trade red, and am almost as fearful of what it tastes like as the spooky tale we’re about to discuss.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:07 pmWelcome S,
I nearly went for a fair-trade/organic option myself but chickened out - in favour of the always ethically sound produce of South Africa…er…
The wakeful baba probably sense somehting in the air…
March 10th, 2008 at 8:10 pmI have a cup of tea, and I have just eaten an entire chocolate orange that wasn’t mine but no one likes it anyway.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:10 pmOne of the things about MR James that I find most disconcerting is the general nature of his protagonists. I feel they are very much about me, as my life increasingly resembles that of the cynical academic who deserves their lesson in the ways of things beyond their experience and preconceptions. I recently found myself in a b&b in Aberdeen, with an empty bed next to mine. I didn’t open my eyes until the grey dawn had broken.
I’d put Dickens into the not so expected list…
Recommend TH White’s ‘The Troll’.
(The port was too sweet - discovered a bottle of half drunk Cloudy Bay as an alternative)
March 10th, 2008 at 8:10 pmMust confess my homework is only, for now, half-done. But give me a few minutes and I’ll see to it that it is, hastily, completed. For now, I should say that I’ve read very little horror. I suppose my only - only recent, anyway - rencontre with this genre came from the oeuvre of another James - one Henry James. I read The Turn of the Screw about 2 months ago, and appropriately enough, the first thing that struck me about M.R. James’ prose here was that it was quite similar to Henry’s. Not quite as reluctant with the full stops, but similar all the same.
I’m drinking the Gin and Rose that was left over in the flat from a party we had a while ago. (Rose-ay, that is, my keyboard won’t give me the faddas).
March 10th, 2008 at 8:13 pmI’ve a bottle of Porterhouse Celebration Stout set aside for this evening.
I don’t know if Wodehouse wrote any ghost stories, but I’ve always expected them to be like this one. James even leans on the Old Testament anecdotes, Belshazzar’s writing on the wall and Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace being apparent favorite references for Wodehouse.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:15 pmwunderkammer - was the second bed still made when you woke up??
There is a certain matter of fact retelling in the story that makes it hard to dispute… a kind of I heard it from a friend about a friend that he’d seen a ghost.
I think it adds to the chill that James doesn’t seem clear on the details.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:16 pmNoted, with interest.
In preparation for this I rewatched the Jonathan Miller adaptation of “Oh Whistle”. Having read James long before I saw any adaptations I probably have more of a fond feeling for the stories.
In James’ tale Parkins is painted as young, uptight and self-important. All important traits in relation to his eventual comeuppance.
Though the Parkins in the BBC adaptation is admittedly opinionated he’s also decidedly eccentric (and borderline unhinged). Given that, his comeuppance seems less dramatic - at least to me.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:16 pmGin and wine together? Kevin you crazy lunatic!
March 10th, 2008 at 8:17 pmThe second bed was made when I woke up, but so was my own!
March 10th, 2008 at 8:17 pmKevin, there are a branch of ghost stories that are dubbed ‘Jamesian’ but after MR, rather than Henry.
Although speaking of HJ, The Turn of the Screw is one of my favourites of the genre.
Fustar mentioned the BBC adaptation of WAICTYML - the adaptation of The Turn of the Screw is spectacular. It’s called The Innocents (have a post on it somewhere I’ll dig up).
And David, Dickens’ contribution is the masterpiece, The Signalman.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:19 pmIt’s rosé - does that count as wine?
I didn’t pick up on Parkins’ eccentricities - except in his early encounter with the rude Mr Rogers. (who was a strange addition to the story)
March 10th, 2008 at 8:20 pmOh, not together, Sinead. I’ll drink the wine first, nurse the gin later. If the gin came first, I’d have to write something ghastly like: “I’m crying, writing this.” Not yet, not me.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:20 pmThere’s plenty of humour in “Oh Whistle”, terrifying as it is.
One of my favourite bits - and worthy of Wodehouse - is this:
March 10th, 2008 at 8:20 pmRe-reading this, I think I preferred Miller’s characterization of Parkins; he’s eccentric and a little full of himself {cf. his great pride in inverting Shakespeare - not that well, mind}, but ultimately likable. The comeuppance in James’ story is a too heavy-handed and moralising for my tastes. No one would identify with that Parkins, and the result is less horrifying, IMHO.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:23 pmEvening all. Here at last. I have no tipple as we have a sick baba in the house so I may also have to nip away at any moment. I do have a lovely plate of melon and some sour worms though, does that count?
March 10th, 2008 at 8:23 pmDavid, He’s not at all eccentric in the story, but highly so in the TV adaptation.
Michael Hordern is almost a Popeye-esque presence - muttering and twittering away to himself and saying things like “Mmmm…banana”. He’s fucking nuts! Doesn’t work as well because of that.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:24 pmFustar do you remember pulling up the nylon threads to make our 70’s bedspreads look like they were floating in the air?
March 10th, 2008 at 8:25 pmI think I will dream tonight of a fabric face..
“Michael Hordern is almost a Popeye-esque presence - muttering and twittering away to himself and saying things like ‘Mmmm…banana’. He’s fucking nuts! Doesn’t work as well because of that.”
Why not? Is it distracting, upstaging the sense of dread with an actor’s tics and unintentional {?} humor, or do you just want to see some ruthless spectral justice doled out? ;)
March 10th, 2008 at 8:26 pmWell clearly Wunderkammer (see above) does identify with him!
Oh and wunderkammer - welcome to the club. Go easy on that tea.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:27 pm“One of the things about MR James that I find most disconcerting is the general nature of his protagonists. I feel they are very much about me, as my life increasingly resembles that of the cynical academic who deserves their lesson in the ways of things beyond their experience and preconceptions.”
Wunderkammer, based on that are you happy with the comeuppance in the story, in the way that Niall isn’t.
It does smack of James berating an arrogant academic, and yet James was not dissimilar to that in real life himself.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:27 pmFish in a barrel. Why couldn’t the Templar ghost haunt a puppy?
March 10th, 2008 at 8:28 pmI still have visions of that fabric face today. The laundry basket full of sheets in the corner was not a welcome sight at lights out last night. The ending was a little underwhelming. Perhaps I am coming at this from a love of actual horror & gore stories rather than ghost stories though. I was suitably spooked to the very last page though. Anticipation of horror or a scare is usually the best bit.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:29 pmHadn’t thought of the Signalman Sinéad - was going to suggest The Trial for Murder.
Embarr - I think a plate of melon and sour worms earns you creative points.
‘Mmmm Banana?’ What is this madness??
March 10th, 2008 at 8:29 pmI do indeed…though I now begin to doubt that there were any nylon threads involved. We were probably, instead, getting our comeuppances - for being too…er…innocent or something.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:29 pmNiall - I was a little underwhelmed by the ending too. The image of the laundry faces though is harrowing, but it ended a little too nicely for me.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:33 pmembarr, not niall. Apologies.
Templar ghosts haunting puppies. Sounds like Dan Brown’s next book.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:34 pmI just think that the story (enjoyably) obeys certain basic rules of folklore - i.e. fuck with us and you’ll get fucked in return! It may seem moralistic but it’s an our world/otherworld dynamic that’s got a long and (ig)noble history.
In the adaptation it seems as if the thing that haunts Parkins is something emerging from the depths of his addled mind. It’s still great though!
March 10th, 2008 at 8:35 pmWhile we’re talking Templars, I never caught the connection between this story and the _Tombs of the Blind Dead_ films. _The Blind Dead_ is a series of Portuguese films about blind Templar revenants lumbering around for awhile until they hear kids having noisy sex {natch} on old monastery and burial grounds, and then they drink the kids’ blood. Portugal sounds like a pretty scary place. I mean, all they had in their arsenal at Newgrange are torches and outraged indignation.
Anyway, are there any other stories about the blind ghosts of the Knights Templar that I should find?
March 10th, 2008 at 8:35 pm“We were probably, instead, getting our comeuppances - for being too…er…innocent or something.”
Well, if this were _The Blind Dead_….
March 10th, 2008 at 8:36 pmI think that nails where the tension of the story lies. The build up is far more frightening than the climax (though the crumpled linen bit still gives me the shakes).
James himself more or less admits this towards the end:
March 10th, 2008 at 8:38 pm“I just think that the story (enjoyably) obeys certain basic rules of folklore - i.e. fuck with us and you’ll get fucked in return! It may seem moralistic but it’s an our world/otherworld dynamic that’s got a long and (ig)noble history.”
“You’ve got a point, there.”
March 10th, 2008 at 8:38 pmBut it is not so evident what more the creature that came in answer to the whistle could have done than frighten. There seemed to be absolutely nothing material about it save the bed-clothes of which it had made itself a body.
That was a bit of an odd get-out clause… would it not have been more effective to call it a close call but revealed how much worse it could have been??
March 10th, 2008 at 8:40 pm“But it is not so evident what more the creature that came in answer to the whistle could have done than frighten. There seemed to be absolutely nothing material about it save the bed-clothes of which it had made itself a body”
Even that does leave some further possibility of unimaginable horror though. You are left wondering what would have happened if the Colonel hadn’t come in and because you’ve been on high scare alert, your mind runs with that thought. To me a good story is one that stays with you for a few days and this has been with me all day.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:42 pmI regard the comeuppance as a warning, another thing to be scared of, as if there are not enough. I suppose there is a sense of James playing to his audience of students by lampooning his peers, as well as giving them something to identify with. It is his, and his audience’s, world of everyday familiarity. The Miller/Hordern is a silly caricature, but not far off the mark of today’s world of higher education mmm banana. The floating sheet is also questionable. Just contrast it with the adaptation of A Warning to the Curious with Peter Vaughan.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:42 pmHaven’t said hi to Kevin yet. How’s the booze going down?
And David, the “Mmmm….banana” quote may not actually feature anywhere in the programme! It’s merely meant to capture a flavour of Michael Hordern’s performance. When he comes across a grave stone he tends to chuckle to himself before muttering “Mmmm…grave…” (or some such). You have to see it.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:42 pm‘but it ended a little too nicely for me’
Is it me or do all the main characters of MR James stories always escape doom?? and have to pack up their leather suitcases and head home to the safety of the city away from the countryside full of despair and dread?
March 10th, 2008 at 8:44 pmFustar,
You left out the next line which aptly demonstrates the humour of it all.
“…and that its one power was that of frightening. The whole thing, he said, served to confirm his opinion of the Church of Rome.”
March 10th, 2008 at 8:44 pm“Just contrast it with the adaptation of A Warning to the Curious with Peter Vaughan.”
Fair point, but I don’t think there’s anything in _A Warning to the Curious_ to rival that dream-chase on the beach.
No digging!
March 10th, 2008 at 8:44 pmWhich is all by way of saying, hand-up and all, that I finished the story and am ready, ready, ready to partake.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:45 pmSplutter! Thanks wunderkammer. I laughed out loud to such an extent that my Pintotage splattered all over the PC monitor like cheapo Hammer blood.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:46 pmHow’s the booze going down?
Quickly.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:46 pmRegarding the haunting of a puppy, this makes me think of the film The Descent. It opens with its protagonist seen together with her family. This immediately made me uncomfortable, ‘oh no she has a child, I have a child, there is something at stake here that is going to make this scary.’ Then, in the words of one of the characters, the worst thing that can happen to the protagonist happens. From there, nothing is that scary anymore regardless of what ‘horrors’ are encountered. Not exactly a puppy, but that would be too cruel.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:47 pmYou know something? I think I would have enjoyed the story a lot more if I’d have it in my hand. The beach chase was exciting, no doubt, but reading it online (html format, to boot) probably took a lot away from it. That, and for most of it, I didn’t know what a groyne was.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:49 pmWell, pig, not always - at least in the stories. There are some horrible endings in some of ‘em.
Generally speaking though, I suppose, the punishment is (like in this story) to have one’s stuffy and prosaic world view shaken up for evermore. You’re returned to the self-satisfied (or self-loathing!) environment of academia but you’ll never be as sure of anything again.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:50 pmSorry to deviate into film again, but Fustar’s reference to cheapo blood made me think of the Australian vampire film Thirst which I saw for the first time the other day - something of a gem, despite the cheapo blood.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:50 pmApologies, am up and down the stairs.
Fustar, I don’t know how to do the quote thing but I agree with this point:
“Anticipation of horror or a scare is usually the best bit.
I think that nails where the tension of the story lies. The build up is far more frightening than the climax (though the crumpled linen bit still gives me the shakes).”
This is twofold:
- the way he lays clues for us (talking about the second bed, being detailed about the room layout and the window that will feature later on)
- the build up to our first encounter with whatever is in the room.
Embarr and David - on the point of “There seemed to be absolutely nothing material about it save the bed-clothes of which it had made itself a body”
- isn’t that one of the open-ended aspects of the story? That Parkins could have in fact imagined it all. The fact that it’s a ghost made of bedclothes has me imagining him as wending the sheets himself after his imagination has run amok.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:50 pmThree sheets to the wind perhaps. The whole business being the work of Rome, yes indeed the Colonel has the right idea.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:50 pmPutting children and puppies in danger is usually a cheap shot. I just resent feeling compelled to root for the ghost in this. Parkins is too strident and too persnickety, bereft of the competence and charisma that justifies the hubris one usually gets punished for in stories like these.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:51 pmJonathan Miller’s Verison
There is a lot of open-endedness to the story - much of it given to the hearsay narrator I think - but the colonel knew about what was happening which makes it real. I think…
March 10th, 2008 at 8:52 pmpun of the night: Three sheets to the wind.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:54 pmPig is right in that the countryside is somewhere to escape from and not to.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:54 pmIsn’t that one of the open-ended aspects of the story? That Parkins could have in fact imagined it all.
And now we’re back (or fast-forwarded) to The Turn of the Screw? The uncertainty of an open-ending, I think, relates back to what Fustar was saying there about worldviews being rocked. Which is worse? To have a worldview undeniably rocked (resulting, probably, in another worldview, of sorts) or to perhaps have had your worldview rocked (not knowing, therefore, whether to change it to some other worldview). I’ve said worldview too much at this stage.
I didn’t think it was open-ended enough in this case, though. Certainly not in my first, rushed reading. I’ll give it time, though.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:54 pmPutting children and puppies in danger is usually a cheap shot.
Poe says something hilariously wacky about the beauty of a melancholy woman being the thing to play on. Don’t have it to hand right now, though.
Good point, David, about the narrator’s hearsay making it all a bit more open-ended. I retract (a bit) my statement about it not being open-ended enough (for now). I love the unreliable narrator. But I think I prefer Banville’s and Nabokov’s. They’re not unreliable because it’s all hearsay. They’re unreliable because they’re dishonest or sinister.
March 10th, 2008 at 8:58 pmI do admire James’ ability to keep the dread on a slow boil while doling out the fillips generously:
“Professor Parkins, one of whose principal characteristics was pluck, spent the greater part of the day following his arrival at Burnstow in what he had called improving his game, in company with this Colonel Wilson: and during the afternoon–whether the process of improvement were to blame or not, I am not sure–the Colonel’s demeanour assumed a colouring so lurid that even Parkins jibbed at the thought of walking home with him from the links. He determined, after a short and furtive look at that bristling moustache and those incarnadined, features, that it would be wiser to allow the influences of tea and tobacco to do what they could with the Colonel before the dinner-hour should render a meeting inevitable.”
March 10th, 2008 at 9:00 pmI meant to be here for 8 but I got too drunk and now I’m just popping in to say I’ll be here for the next one.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:01 pmRight, that’s the Rose finished. I’ll go get the gin.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:01 pmPoe says something hilariously wacky about the beauty of a melancholy woman being the thing to play on. Don’t have it to hand right now, though.
Ha, I’m reminded of this bit, from Orwell:
Aha! A dying prostitute! That’s rather what you might call one of my subjects.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:03 pmGuys,
Two new episodes of Two and a Half Men on Paramount. My posting might be a little more sporadic for an hour or so.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:03 pmKevin - Faced with Banville’s dishonest narrator or James’ hearsay I’d take Parkins…
I agree with Niall’s point - there was doling a-plenty!
March 10th, 2008 at 9:04 pmCome on, David. Everyone loves a bad guy.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:05 pmOne thing not mentioned so far is the actual whistling. I did a bit of casual Googling (as opposed to “Goggling” which I would have done if I’d seen a spectre mould itself out of bedsheets) and discovered the following.
There are (apparently) quite a few Northern European folkloric traditions that warn about the dangers of whistling at night.
This reminded of a conversation I’d had with Emabarr (and others) at the blog awards. She, it turns out can’t stand whistling. Neither, as it happens can Jess - my wife (downstairs watching The Godfather).
I’d always thought it was the shrill and irritating tunelesness that put people off. Turns out, it may be something more sinister than that!
March 10th, 2008 at 9:07 pmF.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:07 pmWunderkammer needs a wee wee and I need a tea(tea). So a tickle until next time.xx
Maybe… I’ll consider over the last drops of my half bottle.
Still there was a certain guilty pleasure in the prissy Parkins finally coming close to losing his wits.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:08 pmWell..I can beat that Kevin. My brain is not coping well with tuning into this discussion at the same time as catching up with America’s Next Top Models. Thank God for being able to pause live tv.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:08 pmTwenty, Get a few cups of coffee into you. Failing that, go have a lie down and we’ll see you for the next offering.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:09 pmFustar,
That does lend a scary literalness to “Whistling past the graveyard” that I’d rather not entertain for too long.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:09 pmPig, sort out the wee-wees and tea-teas and we’ll talk soon. Thanks for stopping by. x
March 10th, 2008 at 9:10 pmThe Professor goes through some transformation, as the beginning he’s “Young neat and precise in his speech”. By the end “His nerves, too, have suffered: he cannot even now see a surplice hanging on a door”. And don’t mention the scarecrow.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:12 pmOh whistling is evil, I’ve always thought so. Whistling is the audio of an empty mind. Simon is demonstrating forms of whistling in the corner as I speak. Excuse me while I kill him with a spoon.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:12 pmThe whistling was a little bit over a rationalised by Parkins - putting it down to ‘fisher-folk’.
The man just had too many answers.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:13 pmKevin & Embarr - Remember television is eeevilll! Much like (if the media informs me correctly) drinking too much alkeehol.
I’ll stick my nose in the air, adopt a Parkins-esque air and sniffily opine on the superiority of lit-ter-ah-teeyour. Sniff…
March 10th, 2008 at 9:13 pmI really like the character of the Colonel, who says something interesting about the sheets/ghost that is applicable to many ghost stories:
“it could have done very little and that its’ one power was that of frightening”.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:15 pmAnd does James hate golf? I think so…
March 10th, 2008 at 9:16 pm“it could have done very little and that its’ one power was that of frightening”.
A suggestion of horror is enough to send a person into madness and that is very frightening indeed.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:16 pmOh and on a nerdy level I ought to mention the (untranslated) inscription on the whistle.
Fla
Fur Bis
Fle
There has, apparently, been much speculation as to its meaning but a neat theory states that it is “Fur, Flabis, Flebis” - or, “Thief, You Will Blow, You Will Weep”.
If Parkins had been a bit more diligent in his deciphering he might have saved himself a world of hurt.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:18 pm“A suggestion of horror is enough to send a person into madness and that is very frightening indeed.”
Indeed Embarr - so do you think that’s what happened to Parkins?
March 10th, 2008 at 9:18 pmI’d love to see a modern adaptation of this - not a Michael Bay monstrosity, just soemthing that reflects our contemporary fears, expectations and prejudices.
“You saw a ghost, then. What was it like? How did it sound? How did it smell?”
“Febreze. And it said I’d never pay off my student loans.”
March 10th, 2008 at 9:19 pmFustar
March 10th, 2008 at 9:19 pmWhat about the “who is this who is coming”? If ever a line made you want to look over your shoulder, that’s it.
“it could have done very little and that its’ one power was that of frightening”.
This was a bit of a murky explanation - wouldn’t the suggestion that it could have been much worse have been more sinister?
March 10th, 2008 at 9:20 pmFustar, great sleuthing!
March 10th, 2008 at 9:20 pmDavid, I think it was sinister because it was the power of imagination run rampant. If it had been a typically literal ghost it would have been more explicable. Both are frightening, but the explanation that gives the imagination even more room to manoeuvre has the edge in terms of sheer terror.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:23 pmMeant to pick up on Kevin’s remark about how unsatisfying it is to read online (versus having something physically in one’s hand).
My own feeling is that the glare of the monitor (and the ‘office’ environment - if you’ve a desk-top) inevitably distances you from (in this case) the horror.
Read the story at night with a nice Penguin Classic book in one’s trembling hands and it’s a very different story (ha!).
Oh and I didn’t know what a “groyne” was either…
March 10th, 2008 at 9:24 pmA womaniser in the last series, Charlie Sheen’s character is playing the piano to his new longish-term girlfriend’s little child. It’s touching, really.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:24 pm“This was a bit of a murky explanation - wouldn’t the suggestion that it could have been much worse have been more sinister?”
I’ve always found that the more detail or explanation there is, the less the impact of the scare. I find the human imagination let run riot of a few innuendos or suggestions is capable of imagining far greater horrors. You mix in your own fears & phobias and you get a custom made scare.
Sinéad - I would love to think Perkins went mad but I imagine he just rationalised it all in his head but remained unable to look at laundry again.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:25 pmFustar, I picked it up in the library. And if I hadn’t I would have just printed it off. I refuse to read stories off the screen. Too odd and unenjoyable.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:26 pmA groyne (groin in the United States) is a rigid hydraulic structure built out from the shore (in coastal engineering) or from the bank (in rivers) and interrupts the flow of water and sediment. Groynes serve a multitude of functions.
From Wiki
March 10th, 2008 at 9:27 pmDid anyone think it had echoes of Lovecraft throughout?
March 10th, 2008 at 9:27 pmAnother one who printed it off here. I can’t read a story from a screen, you lose too much of it.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:28 pmMaybe Sinéad - I read it at a literal level (taking the Colonel as proof outside of Parkins’ imagination)
(I printed a hard copy over the weekend and read it at jury duty this morning)
March 10th, 2008 at 9:29 pmAbsolutely, and the sense of being followed or pursued is an important one in James’ stories. Something has noticed you, through your own rashness, arrogance, folly (etc) and now you’re marked. Shudder…
March 10th, 2008 at 9:30 pmI’ve always found that the more detail or explanation there is, the less the impact of the scare. I find the human imagination let run riot of a few innuendos or suggestions is capable of imagining far greater horrors. You mix in your own fears & phobias and you get a custom made scare.
True enough, but you need some explanation at the beginning and the end. Otherwise, respectively, the attention of the reader is never gripped and/or the reader is left decidedly disappointed. The best example of the latter, I think, are the last episodes of Twin Peaks. But Lynch, of course, wasn’t being deliberately vague. He just hadn’t enough time to tie a brilliantly tangled tale together. I’ve mixed a metaphor there, but, ah, I’m a little drunk.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:31 pmI have to shimmy off for a bit but will be back…
March 10th, 2008 at 9:32 pmNot particularly, though it has the same “nameless dread” and cosmic-screwing feel I suppose.
Lovecraft was a huge James fan - though I’m not sure the admiration was mutual.
Lovecraft is far more cynical and fatalistic for me - though that doesn’t stop him being the king of just that!
March 10th, 2008 at 9:34 pmFustar, I picked it up in the library. And if I hadn’t I would have just printed it off. I refuse to read stories off the screen. Too odd and unenjoyable.
Funnily enough, I think it was just the page I read it off. I’m reading Ben Black’s The Lemur on screen as the NY Times serialise it. Their site is far more attractive and, consequently, I have little problem reading from it. But that could be because it’s serialised.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:34 pm100! I think.
Do I win anything?
March 10th, 2008 at 9:35 pmI think that everyone is missing the most important fact.
I have been whistle-dissed on the Internet for providing some free auditory entertainment to those around me.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:39 pmThe bottle has finally run dry so it’s my turn to bow out. Until next time. d.
Simon - did the whistling raise any spirits??
March 10th, 2008 at 9:43 pmThe “human imagination” tends to be dismissed (these days) as something that produces fantastic images that have no actual reality. A bit of fun, but nothing much more than that.
An older view (and one I sympathise with) would see the imagination as that part of us that can interact with the otherworld (whatever it is). It speaks the same language.
in the same vein I think the expression “It was just a dream” is a bit of a nonsense. Dreaming (though reduced and clumsily defined by psychoanalysis and bargain basement “Dream Dictionaries”) is still a remarkably rich and fundamentally human activity.
“Imagination” is an integral part of the human experience - and the things we “imagine” can change our lives just as readily as the stuff of solid matter.
I’m exhausted…time for another dollop of the ould Pinotage…
March 10th, 2008 at 9:43 pmHave o admit that reading off the screen kills me. I had to run the story off as a pdf
March 10th, 2008 at 9:43 pmI’ll send you a Manky Toy - plus certificate. Lucky boy.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:45 pm“True enough, but you need some explanation at the beginning and the end. Otherwise, respectively, the attention of the reader is never gripped and/or the reader is left decidedly disappointed.”
I shall qualify that a bit more. Detail and scene setting is vital to the setting up of a scare but when it comes down to the actual creature/ghost/presence etc description, I prefer to give it my own flavour. The image of the shapeless, ducking & diving creature on the beach is far more frightening than knowing what colour it was, what height it was or any other unnecessary (to my mind) detail
March 10th, 2008 at 9:46 pmCheers D. Thanks for showing your virtual face (of crumpled linen).
March 10th, 2008 at 9:46 pmprefer to give it my own flavour.
I guess I feel like that, too. Thus, I suppose, my preference for literature over cinema.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:48 pmIndeed! There’s something about the erratic, jittery movement of the creature that thoroughly freaked me out.
I can’t say I blame him!
March 10th, 2008 at 9:50 pmThe speed of it was terrifying too. And though I didn’t know what a groyne was, the word put me in mind of gargoyles so they scared me too! :o
March 10th, 2008 at 9:51 pmIt might only seem “free auditory entertainment” to you, but who knows what you’ve bidden from the beyond? It reminds me of that George Michael song - “Careless Whistle”.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:52 pmIt’s a Monday night, so I’ve a party to get to. Guys, it’s been lovely - over and out.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:55 pmI also like the ghost’s blindness, a great detail in that it offers some faint hope that Parkins can outwit or escape his eldritch antagonist. It’s one last thrust of anticipatory tension before administering the coup de grace. There’s also something perverse and unsettling in it, a trick employed to great effect in Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s _Pulse_: a ghost strides toward a terrified man and suddenly stumbles, almost falling, before calmly resuming her approach. Scares the bejesus out of me every time.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:57 pmOop, Fustar beat me to it.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:58 pmIf I may jump in here on the subject of leaving the scaries to the imagination, I’m not a big horror story fan, but I do love a creepy old folk song. And all the weirdest folk songs are ones with a vacuum at the core. The trick, as Embarr alludes, is to provide every single detail except for the vital one. You imply all around the mystery, thus giving the reader (or listener) all he or she needs to make fill in what’s missing. Usually the material is a mixture of that provided by the author and a bundle of the reader’s secret fears, dark desires, childhood traumas and so forth. That’s why they haunt you for so long, you feel vaguely panicked that they’ve gotten into your head in some way. If the writer hands you the annswer on a plate, you move on to the next one, mystery solved.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:59 pmOooh, and another bit of James trivia. Apparently this (horrible) bit in the story…
…was actually a reference to one of James’ own childhood dreams (and not just that of the narrator).
Hardly surprising given that the passage captures the breathless terror of those sleepless childhood nights when one was convinced something was under the bed/in the wardrobe.
March 10th, 2008 at 9:59 pmI had totally forgotten about the blindness. When we deal with the inexplicable there is always a sense of omnipotence - beings that can do everything, see everything etc - but the ghost’s clumsiness is interesting.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:02 pmDude, you..er…like so rock. Lovely having you here buddy. Come back for the next one.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:02 pmIt’s enough to make one want kids of one’s own, innit? I’d miss the feckless existence spent idling and reading horror stories, but I think wheezing in the children’s bedroom in the middle of the night or donning a pig mask when they displease me would more than make up for it. Thank god for nieces and nephews, then.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:04 pmNiall, I have a cold so have already been upstairs wheezing around my little one’s room several times tonight (hence my rushed and intermittent comments!).
March 10th, 2008 at 10:07 pmFergal,
Welcome - and spot on. I, too, am a fan of the creepy folk song. As we discussed some time back, The Handsome Family are modern masters of this very old form.
Niall/Sinéad,
Meant to mention the blindness but got dragged down different avenues.
The following bit struck me as both creepy and ambiguous:
What’s going on here? Is it searching for the whistle? Mistaking its own bed for Parkins’?
March 10th, 2008 at 10:08 pmDoes Kevin make anyone else feel old?
March 10th, 2008 at 10:08 pmOn the childhood nightmare thing, I still get freaked out by piles of clothes in shadow in the bedroom. I am not happy when the wardrobe doors are open either.
Sinead,
Well, if it’s not working, try stumbling around the room, as well!
March 10th, 2008 at 10:10 pmNiall, my child has not stopped me from reading horror stories but he is adding atmosphere with his own ghost noises through the monitor as moans his way through an ear infection.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:11 pmEmbarr, hope the little guy is ok.
Fustar, I never even thought about looking for the whistle, I just assumed it was groping around for Parkins.
Niall, a couple more glasses of the Tesco Fairtrade stuff (which is surprisingly nice) would guarantee that stumbling effect but I’m done with the vino now.
Fustar, don’t get me started on creepy folk songs. Does anyone know The Carny by Nick Cave? One of the eeriest songs you’ll ever hear…
March 10th, 2008 at 10:15 pmFustar,
Looking for its body, perhaps. I haven’t decided. Indeed, I’m still not certain whether the whistle was deliberately buried and difficult to find, if it was a genuine tool to summon some defender like an ass-kicking Jiminy Cricket or asome third option. It’s not too important, I guess. If I can accept Hitchcock’s Maguffins, then I can surely accept James’.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:17 pmNothing copious drugs can’t cope with, Sinéad!
I never thought he was looking for the whistle either, I thought he was looking for someone to choke or perhaps possess.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:19 pmCondolences, Embarr and Sinead. I think the real terror here is parenthood.
“The Carny” is a great song, as is “Deep in the Woods” by the Birthday Party; I’d also recommend Comus and Current 93 for creepy, often terrifying, folk. A Fustar mixtape is in order, surely.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:21 pmAlright my lovelies, my cold is getting worse, so I think it’s Lemsip and leaba for me.
Thanks to Fustar our super host and to everyone who stopped by. Really enjoyed it. Oh, and get thinking about suggestions for our next story.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:23 pmNiall, I saw Current 93 play a gig in a castle in south London where they all wore combat gear and masks (apt, given our discussion). All I remember songwise was ‘The Night of the Long Knives’.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:25 pmSinead,
We’ll see if we can get you to hear _All the Pretty Little Horses_, but that’s by the by. Feel better.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:26 pmHey, can I stick my head in? Just wanted to say that this seems like a lot of fun. I will try to be here for the next one, if that’s ok with ye lot.
I only just happened upon it now. Enjoy your evening, all!
March 10th, 2008 at 10:27 pmEmbarr, Ear infections are a real horror. Give the little monkey a kiss from me (hopefully it won’t his condition worse).
Sinéad, The Carny inhabits that weird murderous mittel-American ground well staked out by Tom Waits et al. I love it.
Niall, You’re the man for the mix-tape surely? I’m commissioning you to do it. Go wild.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:28 pmI think Nick Cave covered that, no?
March 10th, 2008 at 10:28 pmNight, night, Sinéad. Dose up on the drugs and get a good night’s sleep - free from visions of twisting and convulsing sheets!
March 10th, 2008 at 10:30 pmDarren, ‘Tis winding down to sleepy times now but please do stop by for the next instalment. More = Merrier and all that.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:31 pmF, I’ve got a wedge of ghostly library books, so am off to read more tales of terror, if the Lemsip doesn’t get me first!
Oiche mhaith.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:32 pmAm heading to sleepy slumbers myself now. I’ll pass that kiss on, Fústar.
I’ll be keeping my head under the duvet tonight as there is a laundry backlog in the corner!
A fun evening. Thanks to Sinéad & Fústar for the inspiration & organisation.
Nitol
March 10th, 2008 at 10:34 pmSinead,
He sang it on the Current 93 album of the same name.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:44 pmNight all and thanks for a most splendid bit of chat. Looking forward to part 2 already - suggestions for that welcome by the way.
May all your dreams be horrible.
P.S: Anyone late to the party - just keep commenting. No expiration date on any of these conversations.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:47 pmThis was a lot of fun, Fustar and Sinead, thanks.
March 10th, 2008 at 10:53 pmSorry I missed the chat! I’m so glad I’m not the only one who found this scary - I made the mistake of reading at midnight, alone - I got half way through, thought, hmm, should save the rest for daylight, and then couldn’t help myself - arg! The dream of it coming, and the terrified running - the blind groping for his FACE on the pillow. Yipe!
I’m just a suggestible sap when it comes to ghost stories - my husband’s worse - it takes nothing at all to have us sitting up in bed, clutching at the covers like old ladies in nightcaps…
HE saw a ghost once, on his way to my house in Newcastle, just under the ruined castle and graveyard - a black figure detatched itself from the wall and moved towards him - he moved out of his way, it kept coming, then floated through him! He then had a further ten minute walk in the pitch dark to get to my house - and still rang the bell instead of just coming in! His first words were ‘is there something behind me?’ - he was too scared to look back. Yeek.
I thought the contrast between the stuffy Victorian academic, pompous language and the spookiness made it all the scarier. The translation of thief and weep adds something too - the idea of revenge, rather than just summoning something nasty.
Good fun guys. Hope my nerves can stand the next one.
How will our own stories work?
March 11th, 2008 at 11:01 amJo, is that the famous ghost nun of Newcastle? Himself has told me about people being followed by a shadowy figure (dressed in an old-fashioned style habit) on the road that only disappears once the lights of the town come into view. Freaks me out if we drive that way at night.
March 11th, 2008 at 11:48 amSorry for the late post- I did pop in late last night but all the talk of wine wasn’t good for the post-migraine-head so catching up today!
Agree on the format- reading it on paper much better although having the laptop handy for words like groyne is a help.
As to the story- it was the dream that gave me a bit of a chill and not the crumpled linen at the end. I think that the windy setting before the dream sets the tone nicely…and could have been helped with the actual wind outside when I was reading it on Sunday night! I do think that the visualisations that he gives of the beach and ghost are far more terrifying than the actual physical shape of the ghost in the linen…probably because I have had ‘chase’ dreams’ and the fear is really palpable! As a few people have said though, its what’s in the imagination that we find truly scary.
I did feel letdown by the ending- I think it should have just ended with the linen ghost and didn’t need an explanation afterwards…although him having a another go at religion was humorous.
@Niall- yes the real terror is parenthood…although I think I have done too good a job terrorising them since the youngest (9) just loves getting scared witless!
March 11th, 2008 at 1:59 pmGah! That’s deeply creepy stuff, Jo. ‘Tis just like those lines from “Rime of the Ancient Mariner”:
As for how our stories will work - the plan (as it is) is for them to be submitted to me and put up here for discussion. I know that sounds a bit scary but once we get a few up people will, hopefully, feel more comfortable with the idea (presuming nobody tears one to shreds!).
It’s by no means required to submit a story. People can just join in the story club discussions if they so wish.
March 11th, 2008 at 6:03 pmI don’t think so Sinead - I’ve never heard of that! Perhaps Himself is more down with the folklore than I am :)
Nope, this is halfway up towards Newtown. The Dark Bit, no lights except where the church is - spoooky!
I wonder, I must have always stayed out after that, as I don’t know how I ever would have walked that bit again!
I agree, the dream was very scary, but the blind groping on top of it actually made me feel sick to my stomach with fear.
I always wonder what I’d do if faced by a hostile, horror story type ghost. Die of fright, I imagine.
March 11th, 2008 at 6:04 pmTenacious T,
Agreed. It’s probably too easy to focus on the crumpled linen face as the true centre of the story’s horror.
Being pursued by something that remains murky and ill-defined is about as nasty as it gets!
March 11th, 2008 at 6:14 pmI thought it captured that nighmare sense of fear really well - when something is completely terrifying for no particular reason. Shudder.
March 11th, 2008 at 9:30 pmBy the way, keep suggestions for new stories coming. We need to mull them over and choose one shortly.
March 11th, 2008 at 11:59 pmI have only just printed off the M.R. James story and shall try to read it over the next few days. In the meantime may I suggest that you all read E.F. Benson’s ‘Negotium Perambulans’which you can read at http://www.horrormasters.com/Text/a0220.pdf
Benson, who lived in Henry James’s old home, Lamb House in Rye, Sussex is best known for his ‘Mapp and Lucia’ novels, but he did publish a collection of spooky short stories entitled ‘Visible and Invisible’. There was an old copy of it in my parents’ house when I was growing up and I found ‘Negotium Perambulans’ particularly scary, but unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) did not find it so when I re-read it recently…
March 12th, 2008 at 4:30 pmJo wrote:
I always wonder what I’d do if faced by a hostile, horror story type ghost. Die of fright, I imagine.
There are a few Japanese horror films that yield the same dreams after viewing. I always dream that I’m in a dark sitting room, surrounded by decidedly corporeal ghosts that press in closer and closer until I can barely move. I roar at them, flailing, fists flying, damning their eyes {note, they have no eyes} like Patrick McGoohan berating a confused charwoman. In the end, they always get me. I’ve had this dream several times.
March 12th, 2008 at 5:31 pmIthaca,
“Negotium Perambulans” has been duly added to our growing list. Thanks.
Hope you can make it “live” for the next meeting.
Niall,
That’s bloody horrible. For some reason the fact that it’s a “sitting room” makes it worse. I used to have a recurring childhood dream about a small creature (a cat or mouse) that would scurry nervously alongside me as I walked along a path. Just behind me, out of the corner of my eye, I could see/sense a giant figure of some kind and hear it’s booming voice - which was so booming I couldn’t make out any words, just deep, nasty bass sounds.
It was determined (or so I imagined) to squash and utterly destroy the small anxious creature. This filled me an almost sickening sense of anxiety!
March 12th, 2008 at 11:56 pmI have just read the M.R. James and regret to say that I was underwhelmed particularly by the ending. I found the buildup spookier - the figure that followed Parkin and the dream, but there was no explanation of the connection between these and the ghost in the sheet. I thought that the dialogues were very stilted…
The references to Catholicism were interesting - the Benson story I mentioned earlier also features an ancient church and a supernatural being from the pre-Reformation past. I wonder if there isn’t an unconscious collective guilt for the desecration of churches in the 16th and 17th centuries that manifests itself in such stories. The destruction of images must have been very shocking at the time and many must have believed that it would lead to some kind of divine retribution.
I’ll try to make the next meeting live…
March 13th, 2008 at 12:21 pmNiall, your dreams may be nothing more than night horrors, a sleep disorder that I believe is connected to apnoeia. They tend to occur within the first two hours of going to sleep. I often experience night horrors, but I have noticed that they do not occur when I sleep on my side. If, like me, you prefer to sleep on your back, try sleeping on your side. There is plenty of information about sleep disorders including night horrors on the internet.
March 13th, 2008 at 12:44 pmIthaca,
Aye, they are symptoms of apnea, but I like to think it means I’ll go out fighting. My voice even sounds like McGoohan’s in this dream. It’s awesome. RAR!
March 13th, 2008 at 3:36 pmWhile there wasn’t, tis true, any real explanation of said connection I don’t feel the story suffered as a result. I’d actually argue that the inexplicability and confusion serves the horror well - particularly when the “victim” is such a controlled, self-satisfied and sure individual.
In other words, I don’t see the absence of an explanation as a weakness or an oversight.
March 13th, 2008 at 6:15 pmYes, Fustar, I agree that they do serve the horror, but we are led to expect a really horrifying climax which turns out to be something of an anticlimax. The problem is that a ghost in a sheet is too much of a cliche to be really frightening and consequently the story does not leave one with a feeling of unease. The more concrete a ghost becomes the less scary it gets and indeed it is in danger of being absurd as I believe it to be in this story and also in the Benson story.
I think that some explanation of the historical events in which the events of the story originated and a climax which in which the ghost was not seen but left one with the uneasy feeling that it might or might not have been a supernatural event would have been more effective. Benson almost gets it right in Negotium Perambulans - there is an historical background, there is some uncertainty about the death of one of the characters, which might have been accidental, but then again might not have been. The effect is then somwhat spoiled by the climax, which even though it is a lot scarier than M.R. James’s ghost in a sheet, is so graphically described that the tension is broken. We are left in no doubt about what happened.
I think that what makes a ghost story really successful is that it leaves the reader with a continuing sensation of uncertainty tension and unease after one has finished reading it.
March 13th, 2008 at 11:19 pmThe more I think about this, the surer I feel that we need a short film about some twat works down the IFSC who drives his SUV down to west Kerry, finds a strange object in a locker at the Aqua-Dome and gets chased along the beaches near Castlegregory. We’ll call it “C’mere to Me, You.”
March 23rd, 2008 at 7:00 pmI never got back to the rest of the comments!
C’Mere to Me, You, I love it.
Niall - yarg! Hideous. Like a dream in a film. My advice is: stop watching horror films. and get a dream catcher!
When I was about 4/5 I read Twinkle magazine, and there were paintbox Blob characters. Mousy Brown was a mouse. One night I dreamed about being in a wood, I can’t rememebr the details, but when I woke up I was lying in the dark, and I could hear Mousy Brown whispering ‘There’s a fight in the woods’, more than once, absolutely clearly. So creepy!
For God’s sake!
March 23rd, 2008 at 8:30 pm