Showing posts with label Undead. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Undead. Show all posts

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Le Fanu’s Madam Crowl’s Ghost – Initial Reaction

Full disclosure, this was the second time I read this story, but my memories of it were vague at best. I had an image of the diabolical ghost from the end of the story in my mind but I remember feeling rather nonplussed by the story as a whole.

So why read it a second time? I think because I felt nonplussed and that didn’t make sense to me. Le Fanu entered my consciousness when I read Carmilla while studying vampires in my Honours year and he blew me away. If you haven’t read Carmilla, do it, the prose is beautiful. I then read the next story in the anthology I was using, Schalken the Painter. For the life of me I can’t remember what happens but I know I enjoyed it immensely; I must reread it too.

It was probably a year or two after that that I read Madam Crowl’s Ghost and I was quite surprised to be so disappointed. Having forgotten the details I couldn’t remember why such a master of 19th century supernatural thrillers would disappoint me. So I reread it to see if it was as drab as I recalled. It wasn’t.

I think the problem I had was it’s written in first person, which I love if it’s done well, and in the dialect of the narrator, which makes sense but in this case I think it probably threw me. The narrator is an old woman relating events from the first time she worked as a servant and her language is of the English working class from a century and a half ago. This kind of language is not conducive to feats of ‘high’ prose. Combine that with the late reveal which seems low key in modern terms and I think that was why I failed to be impressed.

Reading it again I appreciate the skill Le Fanu displayed in using the language of this elderly maid to build the sense of mystery around Madam Crowl. The story shows her in glimpses and through gossip, before a late scene where she scares the daylights out of the narrator. All that before she’s died, so the ghost only comes in right at the end, more as a way to reveal the answer to the mystery of the woman than anything else. Le Fanu builds the mystery through intimation and subtle hints which leaves us needing answers to solve the disquiet building in our minds and the narrator’s as she remembers the events of her youth.

By modern standards the story is a bit too anticlimactic and is paced rather slowly, but in the end that’s neither here nor there. It’s a strong suspense story of its day and demonstrates Le Fanu’s writing powers could match the dialectical challenges. It’s also interesting in the manner of its telling.

Most first-person narrations are given by people who only recently experienced the events they’re describing, at least in the last few years. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say there’s no discernable age difference or at least that age has nothing to do with story. Sometimes it will be an adult referring to events in childhood but I can’t think of any examples of that predating Madam Crowl’s Ghost (not that I’m an expert so that could be total rubbish). Having the story of an old woman told through the eyes of another old woman who is remembering meeting the first woman as a young girl changes things slightly.

That she was young at the time, and a maid where the titular character is aristocracy, gives us the mode of the story – fleeting encounters, gossip and innuendo. We’re also given her perspective which cannot help but have a heightened sense of fear due to her inexperience and the new surroundings.

But Le Fanu doesn’t spoon-feed us her terror with a close report of events; rather he shows it to us through the memories of an old woman. This costs him a certain immediacy in the key scenes but their vividness is now coming to us from years hence. These events have marked this woman for life and remained with her as fresh as yesterday. Even with her decades of experience since then the events of that time have lingered in her mind as a terrible mystery. It’s a tricky line but Le Fanu walks it skilfully.

The dĂ©nouement does wrap things up rather too neatly and the suspense is lost in the last couple of pages. Instead it shifts to the scandalous truth behind the mysterious old woman – a common enough ending for the time but it’s hard to read its efficacy these days when we’re much harder to be shocked. And that is likely the biggest reason for me not liking the story initially. I guess I’ve encountered the type enough now to enjoy the build of the story and not worry too much about the ending.

Keep dreaming!

Monday, 27 August 2012

First Response to H P Lovecraft’s The Outsider

This is my initial thoughts on the story, nothing too in depth. Warning, big spoiler, if you want to read the story do that first. It's here.

The beginning of this story reminded me somewhat of Gormenghast but with a more literal take on the idea of Titus Alone. Its mouldy, decaying castle is viscerally described and the infinite loneliness of the narrator is palpable. The nature of this castle with its immense forest is kept a mystery, but there is a hint that not all is as described when we're told the narrator believed himself young because he remembered so little. A failed memory and a life in a place that seems to exist outside the real world.

Only when the escape is made – and leads not to a high tower above the forest, but ground level in an aged churchyard does the mystery of the castle, a veritable crypt, become clear. From there it’s clear what must happen, the narrator must learn it is a dead thing crawled up from its grave, but Lovecraft spins the discovery out to full effect in both horror and sympathy.

The use of nepenthe to erase the sorrow through forgetfulness and allow the ghoul to be just that in some sense breaks the sympathy we might feel for it, but at the same time gives rise to an explanation behind the raison d’ĂȘtre of ghouls and ghosts everywhere. The horror, the otherness and extreme loneliness of their existence drives them to flee the light and take delight in scaring the living who shun them.

Calling the story the Outsider and giving the reader an attachment to the ghoul before revealing its nature allows Lovecraft to make the connection – is this a ghoul or a man shunned for being different? Obviously in the story it is a genuine undead being, but the metaphor is carefully woven so the simple horror of the story is twisted to an analogy of human existence and the loneliness of the ‘other’.

Until next time, keep dreaming!

Steel's "On the Salt Road"

Fair to say, Flora Annie Steel's short story "On the Old Salt Road" both surprised me and creeped me out. I've read a fair...