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Sunday, September 9, 2018

Colonial Horrors: Sleepy Hollow and Beyond Edited by Graeme Davis



Colonial Horrors: Sleepy Hollow and Beyond
Edited by Graeme Davis


An uneven collection, given the subject.

Colonial Horrors gathers "true" anecdotes and folklore, alternating with short stories and novel excerpts. The high points are several Washington Irving tales and the great colonial section of Lovecraft's sublime The Case of Charles Dexter Ward.

North America was settled in a series of retrospectively horrible social advances by the bourgeoisie; the editor lets this go unmentioned, which is preferable to petty-bourgeois moralizing.

One might say, though Graeme Davisd oes not, that North American from earliest European settlement was horror-haunted. Certainly Irving, Hawthorne, and Lovecraft made use of this conclusion.

Jay
9 September 2018

____________

A few notes and excerpts:

THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW by Washington Irving
Perhaps because his "Sleepy Hollow" tale has become associated with Halloween instead of Christmas, Washington Irving has always been associated in my mind with autumn in Applachian New York State: narrow and winding roads through woods and farmland ripened beyond maturity. foretelling frost and the aftermath of harvest.

Irving was not a localist. He was a cosmopolitan traveller and one of the artistic compilers of the intellectual and aesthetic "matter" of the United States: a primary bourgeois ideological accumulator.

Ichabod Crane's mind is full of weird lore of the Colonial period. As with his hunger for food, he can dialate like an anaconda when it comes to gossip about ghosts and witches. This turns out to be his undoing.

"Sleepy Hollow" imbricates regional history, folkways, and humor. Horror is something that, happily, occurs to other people.

AN ESSAY FOR THE RECORDING OF REMARKABLE PROVIDENCES by Increase Mather
In North America the first settlers saw the devil everywhere. The land was exceptional in the social contradictions that accumulated: chattel slavery, prehistoric indigenous cultures, famy farmers. For Increase Mather every anecdote about possession or haunting suggested a continent under infernal shadow.

WONDERS OF THE INVISIBLE WORLD by Cotton Mather
Anecdotes and judicial hearsay about witches testified that the supernatural was real, that essence ruled material existence. Cotton Mather bundled it together as confirmation of Christianity. Like his father, Cotton's writing style is soporific, though his subject matter still fascinates (c.f.. You Tube).

LITHOBOLIA by R.C.
Stephen King began Carrie with a rain of stones. Fort showed how universally the phenomenon was reported. R.C. gives us an unrelenting drama couched in everyday impossibility.

WIELAND by Charles Brockden Brown
The U.S. is the home of do-it-yourself religion: everything from Mormonism to Scientology.

THE MONEY-DIGGERS by Washington Irving
This little thematic knot of stories by Irving is the high point of the anthology. The cash nexus has been the heart of the matter since the landing at Plymouth Rock. Irving's light touch and organizational mastery are well-displayed in "Hell Gate," "The Devil and Tom Walker," and "Wolfert Webber."

RACHEL DYER by John Neal
....But as to mother Good, when they brought her up for trial, she would neither confess to the charge nor pray the court for mercy; but she stood up and mocked the jury and the people, and reproved the judges for hearkening to a body of accusers who were collected from all parts of the country, were of all ages, and swore to facts, which if they ever occurred at all, had occurred years and years before—facts which it would have been impossible for her to contradict, even though they had all been, as a large part of them obviously were, the growth of mistake or of superstitious dread. Her behavior was full of courage during the trial; and after the trial was over, and up to the last hour and last breath of her life, it was the same.

MOLL PITCHER by John Greenleaf Whittier
....How has New England's romance fled, Even as a          vision of the morning!
Its rites foregone—its guardians dead— Its altar-fires.    extinguished— Its priestesses, bereft of dread,
Waking the veriest urchin's scorning!
No more along the shadowy glen,
Glide the dim ghosts of murdered men,— No more the unquiet church-yard dead, Glimpse upward from their turfy bed, Startling the traveller, late and lone;
As, on some night of cloudy weather, They commune silently together.

THE BIRTH-MARK by Nathaniel Hawthorne
"Georgiana," said he, "has it never occurred to you that the mark upon your cheek might be removed?"

A TALE OF THE RAGGED MOUNTAINS by Edgar Allan Poe
....There came a wild rattling or jingling sound, as if of a bunch of large keys, and upon the instant a dusky-visaged and half-naked man rushed past me with a shriek. He came so close to my person that I felt his hot breath upon my face. He bore in one hand an instrument composed of an assemblage of steel rings, and shook them vigorously as he ran. Scarcely had he disappeared in the mist before, panting after him, with open mouth and glaring eyes, there darted a huge beast. I could not be mistaken in its character. It was a hyena.

THE LAKE GUN by James Fenimore Cooper
....The "Lake Gun" is a mystery. It is a sound resembling the explosion of a heavy piece of artillery, that can be accounted for by none of the known laws of nature. The report is deep, hollow, distant, and imposing. The lake seems to be speaking to the surrounding hills, which send back the echoes of its voice in accurate reply. No satisfactory theory has ever been broached to explain these noises. Conjectures have been hazarded about chasms, and the escape of compressed air by the sudden admission of water; but all this is talking at random, and has probably no foundation in truth. The most that can be said is, that such sounds are heard, though at long intervals, and that no one as yet has succeeded in ascertaining their cause.

IN THE PINES by W. F. Mayer
"And now, something about Leeds's devil!" I said to my friend, after satisfactory definition of the Pine Rat; "what fiend may he be, if you please?"

"I will answer,—I will tell you," replies Mr. B. "There lived, in the year 1735, in the township of Burlington, a woman. Her name was Leeds, and she was shrewdly suspected of a little amateur witchcraft. Be that as it may, it is well established, that, one stormy, gusty night, when the wind was howling in turret and tree, Mother Leeds gave birth to a son, whose father could have been no other than the Prince of Darkness.

THE ROMANCE OF CERTAIN OLD CLOTHES by Henry James
There is only one writer named James whose ghost stories I treasure. And it isn't Henry. The tedium of "Romance of Certain Old Clothes" is unbearable. On each page the author gives the reader at least five reasons to give up and skip to the next tale.

AN AUTHENTICATED HISTORY OF THE BELL WITCH by Martin van Buren Ingram
...."I am the spirit of a person who was buried in the woods nearby, and the grave has been disturbed, my bones disinterred and scattered, and one of my teeth was lost under this house, and I am here looking for that tooth."

MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF OUR OWN LAND by Charles M. Skinner
Skinner is a new name to me, and I found his nine volume folklore collection on Project Gutenberg. Perfect for a wet afternoon.

THE SALEM WOLF by Howard Pyle
....Granny Whitlow laughed very wickedly. "Do you speak of the evil eye?" says she. "Well, then, he may keep his cider, and he may take my black curse along with it," and with that she went out of the shed and left them.

THE CASE OF CHARLES DEXTER WARD by H. P. Lovecraft
Ward has always been my favorite by Lovecraft. Its interweaving of colonial and modern periods is handled with deft confidence. The Curwen flashback is a perfect engine of thrills. With brief strokes we are given the characters, the topography, and unmatched conflict.



Sunday, August 26, 2018

Beyond Stranger Bridgerland: True Paranormal Stories from the west By John E. Olsen

By John E. Olsen
_____

In introducing his second collection of proto-folklore interviews and anecdotes about uncanny incidents,  experiencer John E. Olsen writes, "By the age of 17 I was interviewing and investigating other people's interactions with the paranormal."

Beyond Stranger Bridgerland is slightly larger in geographic scope (and length) than the previous collection, Stranger Bridgerland. But the stories run very much to type: sightings, sensations, zones of panic in the austere mountain West. It can be read in one sitting, though I think the proper dosage is probably one story at breakfast, another at lunch, and one at bedtime. (Provided the bedtime chapter is not about Black-Eyed Children.)

I want to draw the attention of classic horror fiction readers to three stories: "Trolled on Mt. Naomi," "Not My Cousin," and "Ridge Watchers."

The artwork in Beyond Stranger Bridgerland is a step up from Olsen's previous book. The images resemble pen and ink works replicating photos, and give coherence to the landscape. It might be useful for volume three to contain a simple map.

Below are a few brief excerpts conveying flavor.

Jay
26 August 2018



***



1 Intro Grandmas Snowman
....He had his earphones in, listening to music while he worked.  He was moving right along when all the sudden, a creepy feeling came over him. He stopped and looked into the storage room. There, in the corner, was the snowman staring at him.

2 Wagon Train
....The next day I called the American West Center but they had said that there had been no activities going on.  They had no idea what I was talking about. I thanked them and hung up.

3 Old Tools
....My youngest was taking a nap and my 3 year old son was playing quietly in the sitting room.  Suddenly, I realized my 3 year old son was talking to someone. I could hear him talking. I thought he might be talking to himself -- which wouldn't be strange for a 3 year old -- but then I heard a man's voice answer back.

4 Old Rock Church
....They were very upset about something.  At first, I thought it must be coming from another suite but after listening further, it was definitely coming from inside our room.

5 Twin Falls Ghost
....We have loved visiting them but their house always seems a little off to me.
They live in an old farmhouse they restored.  I never said anything to them, but I always felt like I was being watched.

6 Kevin & the Shadow man
....Over time began to sense that the Shadow Man knew we could see him.  One night, around dusk, my friends and I were riding our skateboards when my friend Jason was pushed off his board. We looked in the direction from which he was shoved to see the shadow man running away from us. We chased him only to have him disappear before our eyes.

7 ISU Ghost
...."BANG! BANG! BANG!" the knocking came again. I turned on the light opened the door; no one was there. I was done! In a firm voice I said "I am not leaving, I am not afraid of you! I live here and you will NOT bother me anymore!" I closed the door and went back to bed.

8 Lost Pioneer Boy
....I don't know who that boy was or what he was pointing at but I never hunted in Scare Canyon again.

9 Grandma Ann's Visit
....I said, "Grandma, you passed away."
    She smiled and said "That doesn't mean I can't come visit from time to time."

10 Last Motorcycle
...."You have a beautiful family," he said to me.  I smiled and said, "Thank you." Then he looked back at me, his face turning very serious.  "I had a family once," he continued, "but I don't get to see them anymore since the accident."

11 UFO Snowstorm
....Just as we left Pocatello, the storm made an early arrival.  By the time we had left the freeway and headed past Downy it was a full-on blizzard.  It was becoming increasingly harder to see the road, and I was moving at a snail's pace.  A few hours later we had just reached the area between Swan Lake and Preston, Idaho. This area is nothing but farmland and sage brush with some gullies here and there.  As we traveled slowly South, I could see glowing lights off in the distance. I figured we must be coming up on an accident or a snow plow. As we got closer it became obvious that it was something entirely different.

12 Tincup UFO
....All of a sudden the beam shut off and some of the water that had been suspended in the beam fell back down with a splash.

13 Trolled on MT Naomi
[This chapter is a particular favorite of mine, breaking out of the typical Bigfoot/UFO box and conveying a powerful sense of sylvan Panic.]
....Suddenly I heard a sound that I couldn't place.  It was like a calling whistle. I racked my brain to think of any birds that sounded like that.  I sat up in my bedroll and looked for my headlamp. I was about to give up when I was struck in the chest with a small rock.  I froze and the whistle had stopped. I quickly slipped my boots on as my mind wandered. Birds don't throw rocks and I couldn't imagine what was up here that could throw one.  As I got my last boot on I remembered that my lamp was still on my head and I fumbled to turn it on.

14 Not My Cousin
....As I ran into camp I saw my mom roasting marshmallows on sticks for all the kids.  She demanded to know where I had been. I said I had been following Trevor up the trail but couldn't catch him.  That's when I saw Trevor sitting in a chair roasting a marshmallow. I asked him how he beat me back. Confused he explained how he had hidden under my dad's truck and I had walked right by him. He had never left camp.

15 Ridge Watchers
[There is a remarkable resonance between this anecdote and Fritz Leiber's sublime short story "A Bit of the Dark World."]
....I could see the figure down to about the waist and the rest of the shadow disappeared in the brush. It was enormous! Based on deer I'd seen up on that ridge earlier and brush around it, I guessed this figure was around 15-20 feet tall and it was deep black against the dying light.

16 Pilot Mountain Monster
....The west desert of Utah is filled with old mines. Some are marked on area maps but some aren't. I've explored many mines before that day, but this one felt very different from others I'd been in. The feeling started to change to something closer to dread. I was getting a deep sense that we were not welcome.

17 Skinwalker
....By the time I got home I was in hysterics.  I woke up my Mom and cried for 10 minutes before I could calm down enough to talk.  My mom thought it was just someone playing a prank but I was convinced it was something else.

18 Smiling Man
....I could tell he was a good 6' 5" or taller, bald, and under his hat his face had a pale complexion.  I got about 15 feet from him and I asked if he was ok. He jumped just a little then turned to look at me.  His eyes and face sent shivers through my body. He had bright blue eyes and an unusual smile across his face.

19 Late Night Visitor
....My husband asked if he should call the sheriff.  I told him I didn't know what I would tell him.

20 Halloween in Wellsville
....In the road that ran down the south side of the cemetery was a large moving van.  Lining the road on both sides of the van was about 10-15 people all in dark brown robes with full hoods that covered their heads and faces.

21 Lights Outhouse
....The younger boy spoke up in a quiet squeaky voice. "Did we forget to turn off the lights in the outhouses?"
    It was quiet for a moment and I replied, "There are no lights in them, there isn't even any power up here."

22 Golfing With Bigfoot
....Instantly all the blood left his face and his eyes where the size of dinner plates. He motioned at me to come towards him and then he turned and ran out of the gully at full speed. Without looking around me, I took off after him.

23 Wellsville Mountain Monster
....Sometime during night I woke up, something was very wrong but I didn't know what. I was trying to clear my head when I heard a strange sound.

24 Black Eyed at Midnight
...."You have to invite us in! We're just little girls!" She said this with a forceful tone.

24 Glitches in the Matrix
....After a few moments my wife looked up and said "didn't you already fill that?"

25 Bear Lake
....A settler of the Bear Lake Valley wrote two accounts of unusual events that happened to him while growing up in the area.

26 Hardware Ranch Lost Gold
....Their mules were dying and they were unprepared for such cold weather, so they hid the gold and tried to make it down to Ogden, Utah.  On their way, one of the miners froze to death. Nearly dead the last miner made it to Ogden where he spent the winter recovering.


***



Tuesday, August 21, 2018

H.P. Lovecraft and Simone Weil: Sufferers




More separates Lovecraft from Simone Weil than unites them. Still, the description below of Weil's appeal shares something with Lovecraft's appeal and place.

* * *

THE culture-heroes of our liberal bourgeois civilization are anti-liberal and anti-bourgeois; they are writers who are repetitive, obsessive, and impolite, who impress by force—not simply by their tone of personal authority and by their intellectual ardor, but by the sense of acute personal and intellectual extremity. The bigots, the hysterics, the destroyers of the self—these are the writers who bear witness to the fearful polite time in which we live. Mostly it is a matter of tone: it is hardly possible to give credence to ideas uttered in the impersonal tones of sanity. There are certain eras which are too complex, too deafened by contradictory historical and intellectual experiences, to hear the voice of sanity. Sanity becomes compromise, evasion, a lie. Ours is an age which consciously pursues health, and yet only believes in the reality of sickness. The truths we respect are those born of affliction. We measure truth in terms of the cost to the writer in suffering—rather than by the standard of an objective truth to which a writer's words correspond. Each of our truths must have a martyr.

....such writers as Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Dostoevsky, Kafka, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Genet—and Simone Weil—have their authority with us precisely because of their air of unhealthiness. Their unhealthiness is their soundness, and is what carries conviction.

....Perhaps there are certain ages which do not need truth as much as they need a deepening of the sense of reality, a widening of the imagination. I, for one, do not doubt that the sane view of the world is the true one. But is that what is always wanted, truth? The need for truth is not constant; no more than is the need for repose. An idea which is a distortion may have a greater intellectual thrust than the truth; it may better serve the needs of the spirit, which vary. The truth is balance, but the opposite of truth, which is unbalance, may not be a lie.

....We read writers of such scathing originality for their personal authority, for the example of their seriousness, for their manifest willingness to sacrifice themselves for their truths, and—only piecemeal—for their "views." As the corrupt Alcibiades followed Socrates, unable and unwilling to change his own life, but moved, enriched, and full of love, so the sensitive modern reader pays his respect to a level of spiritual reality which is not, could not, be his own.

....Some lives are exemplary, others not; and of exemplary lives, there are those which invite us to imitate them, and those which we regard from a distance with a mixture of revulsion, pity, and reverence. It is, roughly, the difference between the hero and the saint...


___
From the essay "Simone Weil" by Susan Sontag (1963), collected in: AGAINST INTERPRETATION








Tuesday, July 24, 2018

The sound of enormous wings - Homefront Horrors: Frights Away from the Front Lines, 1914-1918 Edited by Jess Nevins



Editor Jess Nevins' anthology of stories written and published in wartime do not refer to the war itself.


Homefront Horrors gives us the spectrum of working class atomization and middle class insularity. The stories move back and forth between London and the East.

(Hard to fathom the logic of a WW1 homefront anthology sans Machen's brilliant homefront tales.

The Wings of Horus  (1917) short story by Algernon Blackwood
My dissent on Blackwood probably mimics Joshi's absurd criticism about Machen: he wrote too much. Far be it from me, though, to criticize a jobbing writer's need to make ends meet. But Blackwood's stories of lands southeast of the Danube, much less "east of Suez," leave me cold. It's not the Orientalism of his generation. It's the preciousness and overpowering pong of inconsequential contrivance.


Laura  (1914) short story by Saki
One of Munro's perfect jewels, perfectly set. His lack of sentiment includes the reader in the joke. Death is only the droll beginning of authorial cleverness, after all.


The Place of Pain  (1914) short story by M. P. Shiel
Perhaps the perfect tale of cosmic horror? In which the horror ( turning a man of God into a homeless social dropout) is forbidden to narrator and reader by the concatenation of narrative events. The sublimity of the undisclosed.


The Three Sisters (1914) short story by W. W. Jacobs
Jacobs perfectly organized his fictional material. It was a skill he must have mastered over years of hard work and serious revision. "The Three Sisters" is a loving depiction of avarice and "the biter bit."


An Episode of Cathedral History (1914)  short story by M. R. James
Perhaps this us my favorite M.R. James story because of its social scope. We spend time with the high and low of a great cathedral. The heroes are a boy and his little dog. The boy comes close to understanding the mysteries and horror that visit his community, but misses the final revelation. It was only an episode.


The Pavilion (1915) short story by E. Nesbit
....The doctor made an examination and gave a death-certificate. "Heart failure," was his original and brilliant diagnosis. The certificate said nothing, and Frederick said nothing, of the creeper that was wound about the dead man's neck, nor of the little white wounds, like little bloodless lips half-open, that they found about the dead man's neck.


Not on the Passenger List short story by Barry Pain
....There is a curious mixture of conscience and temperament which is sometimes mistaken for cowardice and is often accompanied by extraordinary courage.

The Liqueur Glass(1915) short story by Phyllis Bottome
....It is true he had no motive for suicide, but there was still less motive for murder. Nobody wished ardently that Henry might live, but, on the other hand, nobody benefitted by his interesting and mysterious death—that is to say, nobody but Henry's family; and it is not considered probable that well-dressed, respectable people benefit by a parent's death.

The Pin-Prick (1915) short story by May Sinclair
....I couldn't have believed it possible for a woman to be so effacing and effaced. It was super-feminine; it was, as Frances said, hardly human.

Thirteen at Table (1916) short story by Lord Dunsany
....he burst into tears and took me by the hand. 'How can I ever thank you?' he said to me then. 'We have been thirteen at table for thirty years and I never dared to insult them because I had wronged them all, and now you have done it and I know they will never dine here again.'

The Bird (1916) short story by Thomas Burke
Burke is a pure product of London, sui generis. "The Bird" is the kind of conte cruel puzzle only a colonial power's cauldron of social contradictions could upthrust.


Enoch Soames (1916) novelette by Max Beerbohm
....Throughout, in fact, there was a great variety of form, and the forms had evidently been wrought with much care. It was rather the substance that eluded me. Was there, I wondered, any substance at all? It did now occur to me: suppose Enoch Soames was a fool! Up cropped a rival hypothesis: suppose I was!

The Ghoul (1916) short story by Sir Hugh Clifford
Colonialism's contradiction: surrender versus mastery.

Powers of the Air (1917) short story by J. D. Beresford
"The little birds are prey to the powers of the air when the darkness comes," I said; "and their only chance of life is to come within the beam of the protecting light. And when they could find no place to rest, they hovered and fluttered until they were weak with the ache of flight, and fell a little into the darkness; then in panic and despair they fled back and overshot their mark."

Old Fags (1917) novelette by Stacy Aumonier
Four shillings a week for two people means ceaseless, gnawing hunger. The widow and her daughter lost pride and hope, and further messages to Mr. Meads failed to elicit any response. The widow became so desperate that she even asked "Old Fags" one night if he could spare a little stew for her daughter who was starving. The pungent odour of the hot food was too much for her.

The Separate Room (1917)  by Ethel Colburn Mayne
Magnificent. The story's great ambitions are fully achieved. A mother and daughter are buried alive in a cheap hotel in a condition of what used to be called "genteel poverty." The daughter comes close to escaping when she gets a job.

The King Waits (1918)  by Clemence Dane
"The deed is done!" cried Henry. "Uncouple the hounds and away!"



Friday, July 20, 2018

“It’s the wind in the rocks. Try and go to sleep again.” Charles Birkin's collection Devil's Spawn reviewed.

DEVILS' SPAWN by Charles Birkin

1936. Reissued by Valancourt 2015


______



OLD MRS. STRATHERS

A stroke-muted mother tries to save her son from the murderous plans of his spouse. The story powerfully conveys physical helplessness.


SHELTER

Caught in a torrential rain storm in the wilds of Brazil, Michael Christie takes shelter for the night with a peasant family. The casual and almost throw-away style in which Birkin conveys the man's doom is a beautiful assault on the reader.


THE COCKROACH

Never visit Paris. In Paris, never stop at The Blue Lizard. If at The Blue Lizard, never order the stew. And if you must complain about the stew, do not enter the kitchen to do so.


THE TERROR ON TOBIT

Birkin almost matches the intensity of L.P. Hartley's sublime tale "Podolo."

The setting and the characters are perfectly conveyed.  


THE LAST NIGHT

What can a patient do when the doctor is sick?


AN EYE FOR AN EYE

Birkin gives us the vigilante "dish best served cold." But Birkin is never on the side of the self-righteous avenger. Nor the side of the punished evil-doer.  Birkin seems to be on the side of an unblinking parade that simply passes by the consequences of ghastly retribution.


HENRI LARNE

Never visit France.  Never buy cast-off property of a village murderer hung the day before.   And stay out of ruins.


HAVELOCK'S FARM

Rivals "The Harlem Horror" as the masterpiece of this collection.  Another writer might have telescoped this pathological family romance into the retrospective and cozy reminiscence of some old Chowder Society member. Not Birkin. No, not Birkin.


THE HARLEM HORROR

Birkin's genius for stylistic economy is perfectly displayed in this devastating story.  I can only comment that when it was over, I wanted to scream.


A POEM AND A BUNCH OF ROSES

Recalls Poe's "Cask of Amontillado," but absent the likable characters and the happy ending.


OBSESSION

When Marx referred to "the idiocy of rural life" he meant intellectual stultification and social atomization. In "Obsession" we are given the rural idiocy of a Nature that laughs at lovers and slaps-down hard.


THE HAPPY DANCERS

The Russian Revolution of 1917 does-in another happy couple.


THE ACTOR'S STORY

Not quite spring-loaded spikes in a pair of binoculars.


SPECIAL DIET

I think if Robert Bloch read Charles Birkin, he would have given this one the slow-clap of applause. I would call the mode pitiless.


PREMIÈRE

A nicely observed tale of supernatural intervention in a movie.  Widely publicized premiere ballyhoo collapses into a brooding conundrum.


ANGELA

Sibling rivalry. Between sisters. One has a blind fiancé. And dark room well-stocked with acid.





Jay

20 July 2018