Ghost Stories and Haunted Houses

[BAYLOR]

Pigeons from Hell Robert E Howard.

 

[j d worthington]

Several have chimed in concerning stories which get around some of the issues you describe. I would certainly agree "The Beckoning Fair One" does so quite well, but I think this is true of a fair number of Onions' ghostly tales, as they are, like the "strange stories" of Aickman, often quite unclassifiable. Hichens' "How Love Came to Professor Guildea" is another excellent example; any number of stories by Algernon Blackwood would fit the bill; as would no few by H. Russell Wakefield (particularly the much-anthologized "The Red Lodge", which contains one of the best final lines of any such story) or "The Seventeenth Hole at Duncaster"); John Buchan's "The Wind in the Portico" is also something you should look up; ditto a fair number of Walter de la Mare's stories ("Seaton's Aunt" being one of the best known, though I think the tales in Strangers and Pilgrims would also be worth your while; even such a minor tale as "The Man with the Roller", by the otherwise fairly undistinguished E. G. Swain, might be of interest in this regard. There are quite a few which avoid the pitfalls you mention, often by the simple expedient of doing what was done with Ringu (I think the Japanese is a much more powerful piece, with much wider implications, particularly with that final shot in the film) of not allowing any neat tying-up of things. Rather, the haunting is either something which simply cannot be ended, or is only one aspect of a much more pervasive thing. You see this a fair amount, often in a very subtle way, in the work of J. Sheridan Le Fanu -- I am thinking in particular of "Carmilla", "Green Tea", "Schalken the Painter", and the like, where the particular haunting is simply one manifestation of what Le Fanu calls "the vast machinery of hell"; far from being the sort of "comfy" thing most people see the Victorian ghost tale as, his is one of the bleakest, most comfortless, and most haunting visions I've encountered.

 

[j d worthington]

Randy: As always, an impressive list. Also, as is always the case with such lists, there are several I think belong which aren't mentioned; but, then, given the extremely wide range of the ghost story (or even haunted house story), that is inevitably going to be the case. Speaking of which... I should have mentioned one you spoke of, Toby: L. P. Hartley, several of whose stories in the weird vein are particularly nasty... and, as in the case of "The Traveling Grave", in part because of the light, chatty tone (or at times matter-of-fact tone) in which some are told, which he manages to make increase the effect.

Incidentally, Randy (though you may already know this) Henry James has gone on record as stating quite plainly that he intended the ghosts to be real; as real as those in several of his earlier ghostly tales.

I think, too, one thing which is seldom discussed, and so often either misconstrued or misremembered, is that so many of M. R. James' ghost stories are anything but comfy. Quite a few are downright nasty, in every sense of that term. The same can be said for at least a few of the circle of writers who emulated him. Certainly some of E. F. Benson's ghostly tales, while seldom reflecting an overabundance of gore, are centered around the horrific and physically (as well as emotionally) repulsive ("Caterpillars", for instance, which is certainly an unique haunting). His brothers were, I think, overall less successful with the form, but at times reach notable heights.

Another way around the neat resolution is the idea of "the spoiled place" or a place which is somehow "wrong", where unreality warps and corrupts. This is also a theme of various ghostly or supernatural tales, including no few of haunted houses. Ralph Adams Cram's "No. 25 Rue M. le Prince" is a fine example, while some of Clark Ashton Smith's (e.g., "A Night in Malnéant") also make powerful use of this concept. Of course, the granddaddy of 'em all is probably "The Haunted and the Haunters; or, the House and the Brain", by the much-maligned Edward Bulwer-Lytton (though one should really look up the original version, the last quarter of which is generally removed to make the "typical" ghost story out of it; the original, again, has much more spreading implications and hence a much more powerful ending going for it).

Though it isn't really concerned with either horror or terror, I would also highly recommend Kipling's "They" as a superb ghost story. I think it one of Kipling's best tales overall. You might also want to look up some of the tales of the collaborative team Erckmann-Chatrian. Long out of print, there have been some very fine reprints of several of their weird tales (though I will have to censure the generally fine Ash-Tree Press for the alterations they made in "The Man-Wolf" -- a.k.a. "Hugues-le-loup" -- ostensibly to tighten the prose, but also removing some passages which modern readers might find offensive; such political correctness in a publisher committed to reviving the classics of the genre is, to say the least, ill-considered).

 

[Toby Frost]

There’s certainly quite a lot of physically disgusting stuff in M.R. James’ stories, and the solidity of his ghosts means that he can do some unpleasant stuff that you can’t manage with sheets and ectoplasm. There’s a spider in “The Ash Tree” that reminds me strongly of the face-hugger from Alien, and the guardian in the story about finding treasure in a church – sorry, I can’t remember the name – is really unpleasant, especially since it attaches itself to the hero’s body.

I’m not sure what to make of Our Lady of Darkness. I think it’s a good story and a good idea, but I really didn’t like the writing style at all, and gave up on an attempt to re-read it. I’ve written about The Haunting of Hill House elsewhere, but basically I felt that, while an excellent character study, it pulled its punches as a ghost story.

Here’s a thought: there are aspects of ghost stories that are sometimes presented very strongly in other types of writing. In Farewell My Lovely, there’s a moment where Marlowe, the hero, is walking along a waterfront, planning how to sneak onto a ship out at sea whilst lamenting the life of the private eye. The scene has a combination of loneliness and threat that makes the decaying waterfront seem almost haunted.

 

[j d worthington]

In light of what I said above, I should have also mentioned some of the ghost stories of Mary E. Wilkins-Freeman, particularly the title story of her collection, The Wind in the Rose Bush. All her ghostly tales are quietly told, understated, and at times even oblique, but the implications of that tale are, when one considers them, quite horrific, even given the crime involved. It is a particularly subtle form of haunting, but the hints are that, even with the death of the haunted, that haunting will continue, throughout eternity. At least, that is how I read it....

 

[Randy M.]

Randy: As always, an impressive list. Also, as is always the case with such lists, there are several I think belong which aren't mentioned; but, then, given the extremely wide range of the ghost story (or even haunted house story), that is inevitably going to be the case. Speaking of which... I should have mentioned one you spoke of, Toby: L. P. Hartley, several of whose stories in the weird vein are particularly nasty... and, as in the case of "The Traveling Grave", in part because of the light, chatty tone (or at times matter-of-fact tone) in which some are told, which he manages to make increase the effect.

Thanks, JD.

When compiling the short story list I performed a brain dump, just listing all the stories I liked, then picking out what I felt other readers would find compelling. Even so, picking for Le Fanu, Benson and Wharton was difficult given the overall quality of their work.

As for "The Travelling Grave," I included it in a list of non-supernatural horror stories that same year. What a grotesque little tale! Great fun, like an EC comic written in impeccable prose. About the cheerful, lighthearted approach: Been awhile since I read it, but I think T. H. White's "Soft Voices at Passenham" used a very light touch, though I don't recall it having quite as strong an ending as the Hartley; and moving further in that direction, for a delightful somewhat scary ghost story, Fritz Leiber's "Four Ghosts in Hamlet" is hard to beat.

Incidentally, Randy (though you may already know this) Henry James has gone on record as stating quite plainly that he intended the ghosts to be real; as real as those in several of his earlier ghostly tales.

If I've come across this, I've forgotten it, but even before this I wondered why academics of the early 20th century twisted themselves in knots trying to explain why it wasn't a ghost story. Thanks also for bringing up Le Fanu in your previous post; slightly tangential, I picked up The Norton Book of Ghost Stories several years ago and the editor's introduction went on and on about the way the ghost story splits along the lines of the James boys, but never mentioned that what each developed was already present in Le Fanu's work. As I recall, Le Fanu wasn't mentioned at all, and yet "Green Tea" in particular anticipates Henry James' work.

I think, too, one thing which is seldom discussed, and so often either misconstrued or misremembered, is that so many of M. R. James' ghost stories are anything but comfy. Quite a few are downright nasty, in every sense of that term. The same can be said for at least a few of the circle of writers who emulated him. Certainly some of E. F. Benson's ghostly tales, while seldom reflecting an overabundance of gore, are centered around the horrific and physically (as well as emotionally) repulsive ("Caterpillars", for instance, which is certainly an unique haunting). His brothers were, I think, overall less successful with the form, but at times reach notable heights.

I considered "Caterpillars" which I think is the first ghost story I ever read by Benson, and a powerful one at that. I'm not really sure why I chose the other instead.

Another way around the neat resolution is the idea of "the spoiled place" or a place which is somehow "wrong", where unreality warps and corrupts. This is also a theme of various ghostly or supernatural tales, including no few of haunted houses. Ralph Adams Cram's "No. 25 Rue M. le Prince" is a fine example, while some of Clark Ashton Smith's (e.g., "A Night in Malnéant") also make powerful use of this concept. Of course, the granddaddy of 'em all is probably "The Haunted and the Haunters; or, the House and the Brain", by the much-maligned Edward Bulwer-Lytton (though one should really look up the original version, the last quarter of which is generally removed to make the "typical" ghost story out of it; the original, again, has much more spreading implications and hence a much more powerful ending going for it).

And this reminds me of Algernon Blackwood's "The Transfer." As for the Bulwer-Lytton, I think I need to add this one to my growing list of short ghost story rereads along with "Tthe Upper Berth" and "Thurnley Abbey" but in this case because it's been too long since I read it. I recall loving it in my teens and twenties, but haven't revisited it since.

There are so many fine ghost stories and stories of haunted houses/places that it's difficult to pare down to a handful or two. We haven't even begun to exhaust the options.


Randy M.

 

[Randy M.]

There’s certainly quite a lot of physically disgusting stuff in M.R. James’ stories, and the solidity of his ghosts means that he can do some unpleasant stuff that you can’t manage with sheets and ectoplasm. There’s a spider in “The Ash Tree” that reminds me strongly of the face-hugger from Alien, and the guardian in the story about finding treasure in a church – sorry, I can’t remember the name – is really unpleasant, especially since it attaches itself to the hero’s body.

Never considered a connection between "The Ash Tree"/Alien, but I can see why you thought of it. (Ever mention that any time I hear the country song "I'm Walkin' the Floor Over You" I think of "The Tell-Tale Heart"? Well, maybe not an exact parallel.)

I’m not sure what to make of Our Lady of Darkness. I think it’s a good story and a good idea, but I really didn’t like the writing style at all, and gave up on an attempt to re-read it.

On a reread I found the early pages a bit off-putting, with the tone of a s.f. fan-like conversation not quite fitting the story, but as the novel proceeded I was again drawn in and loved it.

I’ve written about The Haunting of Hill House elsewhere, but basically I felt that, while an excellent character study, it pulled its punches as a ghost story.

Best I can say to this is, the difference between Richard Matheson's in-your-face Hell House and ...Hill House is the difference between a place dragging you to damnation and a place presenting you opportunities to damn yourself. The former is fun reading; the latter is more subtle and, for me, has stayed with me longer.

Here’s a thought: there are aspects of ghost stories that are sometimes presented very strongly in other types of writing. In Farewell My Lovely, there’s a moment where Marlowe, the hero, is walking along a waterfront, planning how to sneak onto a ship out at sea whilst lamenting the life of the private eye. The scene has a combination of loneliness and threat that makes the decaying waterfront seem almost haunted.

A good point that made me wonder if you've ever read Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. It's been called a ghost story in which the ghost never appears. Very Gothic feel, and du Maurier did write some supernatural horror stories, notably, "Don't Look Now."


Randy M.