Dreadful Thoughts Story Club 4: Kerfol
Welcome ye night wanderers, ye fumblers in the deep & fear-filled dark. Welcome to the fourth instalment of the interweb's dreadfulest story club.
On the menu (Mmm…) tonight – Edith Wharton's shaggy ghost-dog story "Kerfol".
Though, like many of her contemporaries, Wharton was of the opinion that certain aspects of modernity have proven disagreeable to ghosts (and "the ghostly"), she doesn't wholeheartedly embrace the commonly articulated view (attributed by her to Osbert Sitwell) that "ghosts went out when electricity came in":
"What drives ghosts away is not the aspidistra or the electric cooker; I can imagine them more wistfully haunting a mean house in a dull street than the battlemented castle with its boring stage properties."1
What the ghost really needs, she tells us, is "not echoing passages and hidden doors behind tapestry, but only continuity and silence". For "where a ghost has once appeared it seems to hanker to appear again; and it obviously prefers the silent hours, when at last the wireless has ceased its jazz".2
This may indeed be true. If it is then it begs questions of our (finished & sequenced) Dreadful Thoughts muxtape. Will the "tape", as I had hoped, add to the spooky atmosphere of our meetings or will it, instead, serve only to deafen the encroaching spirits – driving them scuttling toward the door? Time well tell I suppose – and the latter (potential) result may actually be a bonus depending on the state of your nerves.
But enough. Those of you with club badges – wear 'em. Their mystical properties will either keep you safe from the perils of the otherworld, or damn you for all eternity (I haven't worked out which yet).
Booze (or herbal teas) at the ready? Good…let us begin.
P.S: Club member "Wunderkammer" has created his own dreadful companion to our mixtape. It can be found here. Enjoy.
April 21, 2008
80 responses to Dreadful Thoughts Story Club 4: Kerfol
Hello all. Hope you’re all well and chomping at your respective bits for some fortnightly spooky action.
“Michel Lynch” and his Bordeaux is my accompaniment tonight. Not overly impressed so far but perhaps he’ll grow on me.
arrff arrff…
Tea and Cadbury’s cookies for me, but perhaps I should have got some Bonio or alternative dog biscuits. Is it just me, or are these ghostly dogs not that sinister?
Yes. In case you’re wondering the exquisite image in the sidebar was composed by “pig”. She spent weeks (even months) on it. A nice example of progressively stripping something down to its essentials.
Eelloo guvnor!
It’s not just you. However, I don’t think they’re intended to be sinister – merely sad, abused and lonely. I felt quite moved by their silent and wretched vigil! There’s lots in this very lack of sinister-ness we could talk about.
I do like the idea that you know when a haunting will occur, so you just go out and get drunk. It is like avoiding an unpopular relative.
EW pretty much spells out the ghost dogs’ lack of scariness early on….
I I’m glad they moved you! I felt so sorry for the poor woebegone doggies and their cruel fate, and for their poor lonely owner.
That seems to be an idea EW was fond of – the predictability of ghosts (creatures of habit). That’s what “haunting” is all about I suppose. The endless repetition of certain behaviour in the same space. Not scary (when looked at like this), merely lonely…
Loneliness positively saturates this story!
I thought the dogs were tragic and sad a bit like the young wife. It felt a bit like ‘Rebecca’.
Hi folks, sorry I’m late, was gobbling my dinner.
I think that the spookiest ghosts are often the most benign, in the same way that that setting of the haunted house is so frightening because of its familiarity.
Pig, the opening descriptive paragraph of the driveway and trees reminded me exactly of Rebecca!
Very much so. The big house that becomes a prison and all that.
I’m feeling like an insensitive brute.
Evening all. No drinkies for me tonight after a run in with a tub of ice-cream on Saturday night that I’m still not the better of.
I didn’t find this particularly horror-ful or sinister, just painfully sad. The description of the eyes of the dogs is still haunting me. I am a huge dog lover and it made me very sad.
The plight of this sort of wife…
It has tones of Bluebeard as well – but a room of dead dogs.
THe thing I found frightening was the evilness and sadism of the husband – the nasty sadistic grin he’d present her with, but a silence. So creepy! And even her listening to his breathing, when he might have been pretending. And the way he found all her hidden dogs… quite a horrible character.
I was so glad he was savaged by the pack of ghost dogs he’d murdered! Wish fulfillment, I think.
The opening sequence also reminded me somewhat of “The Willows” which we discussed a few weeks ago. The same sense of “littleness” in the face of something huge and ancient.
The lighting of the cigarette is a nice example of a sense of intrusion onto an endlessly deep (and sublime) silence:
I agree with Embarr, it’s not your heart-stiffening kind of tale. It evokes pity, sadness, not fear or terror.
wunderkammer, are you feeling like being an insensitive brute for the laugh, or because of your reaction ot the story?
Late as well…have my own not so benign animals to deal with…and they are still not in bed!
As to the setting I felt the same…seems like a place I have been before!
I liked the way that she had set up the scene first before even the mention of ghosts as well.
Welcome Sinéad, Tim, Embarr et al.
As long as you don’t find yourself leering maniacally and strangling an endless stream of dogs we’ll forgive you!
Tim, I really liked the chronology of the narrative. The build up, the reveal (the dogs) and then the back story told via the court case. It worked really well and the ghosts appear so early on, it deprives the reader of the kind of finale they’re expecting.
It reminds me of how audiences couldn’t believe that Hitchcock killed off Janet Leigh’s character so early in Psycho.
A lack of reaction to the story, but then I read it on the tube immeadiately after reading Ursula Le Guin’s ‘The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas’, which left me moved. My real problem with the story is the device or retelling a narrative that is recorded in court documents. I found it lacked elegance.
I too enjoyed the rhythm. There’s very little suspense and that sense of impending (explosive) horror you get in many other tales. The supernatural reveal happens pretty much straight away. After that we’re left with a study of powerlessness and terrible sadness.
I wouldn’t have said that it was frightening either but certainly spooky with the dogs not uttering a sound and with the way that they were watching him. As always its the sounds or lack there of that I find evocotive.
I like that the way it works – we meet the ghost dogs, but they’re just like ordinary dogs – and then it’s not to the end of the old story that they’re ghostliness is scary. And in that instance, even though she’s frightened of what happened, we’re delighted!
This is my kind of ghost sotry actually.
A little of track but I am currently facinated by the word ‘presently’ which appears at least twice in this story. When did we lose this word? It seems to be a word that is very popular with women writers at this time(?) Any thoughts?
We made these comments about Sredni Vashtar, but I relate to the idea of befriending animals due to loneliness, or not trusting people.
So that’s what appeals to me about the court case story.
Elegant – perhaps not.
What do we say instead of presently? Soon?
Jo, I’m not even sure that the dogs’ ghostliness ever becomes scary! Isn’t there a chance that Anne’s story is just that – a story – and that she did, indeed, savage her husband to death? There’s no definitive narrator’s voice to settle the issue one way or the other. Whadya think?
Pig, Off tracking is nothing to be ashamed of. “Presently” does seem to have faded from contemporary use…but I’d never thought about it being the preserve of women writers…until now!
I found it really interesting that Wharton tried to deliberately throw us off the scent, by ominously having the friend drop in the line “and don’t forget the tombs in the chapel” near the very beginning.
It was a bit like a fake McGuffin. God, I seem to obsessed with Hitchcock tonight…
F̼star Рno!
Then why the ghost dogs at the start…
I’m not here.
‘Presently’ is suffering a terrible lingering death at the hands of news reporters and people who speak at the AGMs of Limited Companies who believe it means currently.
What book was it in, someone’s first day of school the teacher says ‘sit her for the present’ and they sit there all day, but never get a present?
Good point! I hadn’t really noticed that. There’s lots of playing with, and then undermining, conventional horror tropes in the story.
Which leads me to Jo’s question.
I’m not denying the ghostliness of the dogs (they’re clearly ghosts), just questioning whether the revenge is theirs or that of their mistress. I don’t think it’s definitively answered.
Sorry folks have to go…my own beasts causing too much havoc tonight …
Sorry to lose you Tim. Check back in later if you can.
I was going to bring this up. Did everyone assume the narrator was a man? When I started reading, a clear image of a woman came into my head, and it was nothing to do with the fact that Wharton is a woman. It just felt like it was a female voice.
Me too Sinead. Never considered it wasn’t til it was mentioned.
I, too, thought it was clearly a woman’s voice – though it seems to be deliberately ambiguous. The sympathy evident in the editing and retelling of the trial might seem to bear that out.
My point about the ghost dogs is, if they weren’t really the killers, what’s the point of including them in the story.
It’s a bit too coincidental to have her make them up and have them be real in later years as well.
Sorry, I can’t remember, was a weapon found?
Killing him would have been the right thing to do either way. Imagine the appalling vista she faced, living with him, in fear of patting a dog lest he hunted it down and killed it. Or her…
Maybe…
I think there’s a strongly implied link between Anne’s loneliness and (effective) imprisonment in the house and the later fate of the dogs. As I read I couldn’t escape the idea that the dogs represented her joy and her desperation to love.
Their fates are bound together. That’s (perhaps) what makes the dogs important. It’s like her pain lives on through these four-legged spectres.
Even if one accepts that the husband was literally mauled to death by ghost dogs, it’s hard not to feel that her own repressed rage was a factor!
Ah yes, the ole repressed rage. She did reaact only with fear and meekness, didn’t she. With little other choice.
Wow, the murderous pack in the attic. Much cooler than a madwoman.
…women who run with the lapdogs.
By the way, I’m amused by the fact while I surrender myself to empathy (RE: Anne’s plight) I’m listening to the theme from Cannibal Holocaust!
Think I would like a pack of ghost dogs to take care of all my repressed rage..
you big man, you.
slighly embarrassed I’ve only just noticed the quote box.
I wonder could I conjure a ghostly labradoodle to bite my husband on the ass when he stays out til four in the morning and leaves his alarm on the next day?
Off topic, but apologies for not submitting a mix tape song. I’m on a new laptop with no iTunes as yet so have yet to upload my library but I had something special in mind.
Jo, I spotted this. Jeez, how many madwomen in the attic are there in literature?
I didn’t know about it til college, and read Gilbert and Gubarr (heh).
How do you think your repressed rage would manifest itself?
Where’s Niall tonight? I wanted to commend him on his fabulous tatoo.
Changing tack slightly – or maybe not – was anyone struck by the emphasis on “feeling” rather than “seeing” in the story.
I suppose the suggestion is that “seeing” the ghostly doesn’t really do anything for you – apart from scaring you shitless. Feeling it, on the other hand, leads to an understanding of what has happened here (and, perhaps, is still happening).
how many madwomen in the attic or there in literature?
lots!
Popping away for a wee while, all, back later.
I hope not. That would mean that my wife could, in theory, harness this power for herself. I prefer my ass unbitten…by ghost dogs at least.
Yes, and I think this relates to the whole idea of ‘seeing is believing’ but feeling or letting your imagination fill in the visual blanks is even more terrifying. Think about The Blair Witch Project – you never see anything, but the film drips with feeling, mostly conjured up by imaginations running amok.
We’ll start a second volume before too long. There’s far too much good spooky stuff out there for a single “tape”.
Righto, I’ve got to run. Will check back in tomorrow. Looking forward to the next installment.
goodnight Guvnor..
enjoyed reading all.
pig, technically she’s a madwoman in the keep!
This might lead us on to discussion of the (male) legal process and how it dismisses her story and slaps her into the “madwoman” category. There are lots of bits in the trial scenes where askance glances and rolled eyes are shot in her direction – By men of course!
Night pig. Night Sinéad. I’ll keep on waffling here for a while to see what happens (or doesn’t happen).
RE: The dogs – this quote has stayed with me…
A little later EW’s narrator talks of “a thick fog of listlessness”. Something very powerful in this total absence of potency and “life”.
P.S: Any hardcore, non-wussy types still out there?
I’m back!
We two, with badges in common…
Yes, the legal system, the husband’s family, the utter isolation of the young wife. Where are her brothers, to come riding and save her?
Where is her mother. A fairy tale with no happy ending. She;s given into the care of her husband’s family, a frightening fate. Ultimately, her dogs got their own revenge only, they didn’t save her.
Good stuff, Jo. Feel the power of the badge flow through you. Any thoughts on the (recent) above?
IT makes sense – she’s in a situation where life is stifled. She is not allowed to love – her husband, her dogs, especially not her young admirer. She can’t pursue any normal life. It’s a living death really. And the system backs that up.
She evidently married out of straightened circumstance…
Perhaps that explains her family’s lack of involvement. She became, after all, her husband’s “property” – at least in his eyes:
And “property” she remains till the end. Perhaps that’s why the dogs linger. Her spirit may still wander the keep and they, at least, love her.
The trial, too, is quite sad in that she seems to realise how preposterous her story will appear to the “respectable” gentlemen interrogating her but still feels (reluctantly) compelled to tell it.
Yes, she invested something in them – and there seemed to be a rescue story in all of them, an exchange of, what would you call, it? A mutual need, or a favour done. That traditionally creates a bond. And their deaths were so violent. Unjust, and invested with his twisted emotion.
He treats her like his pet, and not too kindly. His madness is completely dismissed, as you’ve pointed out, while she’s the hysterical and murderous female.
I think that compulsive telling lends credence to the ghost story.
I’m always all for metaphoric and literal truth co existing
Alrighty, I’d better go sleep. Night!
Not only is his sadism dismissed, it’s positively normalised! The general feeling is “Well, why shouldn’t he strangle a few dogs – or hang a few peasants – (or “nearly beat to death a young horse”) if they wrong or displease him?”
His behaviour is socially sanctioned. It’s his right to be this vicious! Her story/explanation/actions fit only into the category of “madwoman”.
Away to d’land-o-nod with you. May your dreams be…colourful. Talk soon.
Tonight’s tipple was two whiskeys with a Lemsip chaser. Just woke up.
Sorry.
You were missed. I presume that mixture is due to some illness?
Aye.
Thanks, Jo.
Incidentally, I think I’m really really done with the mixtape sequence, this time.
I put the badge on and fell foul of a sore throat and dizzy head.
I was poisoned by a pin prick. Apologies for missing the festivities.
Arrf Arrf.
I did warn you. They’re unpredictable yokes them badges….