The English accord the holidays with a sensible emotional treatment: fear and dread. There is a place for joy, cheer, goodwill, etc., but the English storytelling tradition acknowledges that horror is an appropriate state of mind for this time of year. To that end we’ll feature a week of creepy stories to celebrate the Ho-Ho-Horror of the season.
The opening pages of Susan Hill’s novel are cozy and comfortable. A happy family is gathered about the fire on Christmas Eve, the snow falling gently outside. But right at the best part of the evening, when the family members start to tell ghost stories, an aging Arthur Kipps abruptly makes his leave; the others might enjoy festive ghost stories, but Kipps finds himself reflecting on a dark secret from his past.
Back in the 1860s, as a green new solicitor, Kipps had been sent to tidy the affairs of a former client, very recently deceased. Now it is true that the client’s mansion was spooky and isolated, and it is further true that the locals behaved superstitiously, and it is yet further true that eerie, inexplicable noises seemed to follow our hero once he arrived at Eel Marsh House; but Kipps was a modern Victorian man, confident in scientific reasoning and dismissive of the supernatural. He was unsettled by his sightings of a pale haggard woman, dressed all in black—she did seem to radiate a sense of hostility—but surely she was a real person and not a ghost.
Though published in 1983, this shivery ghost story has the classic feel of a Gothic thriller. Susan Hill slowly builds suspense as she reveals clues about the desolate English manor, the twin tragedies of a child’s death and his mother’s suffering, and the vengeful rage of a spirit who cannot rest. Just when the reader thinks it is safe to breathe, Hill throws in a terrifying plot twist to ratchet up the horror. With such a deliciously malevolent storyline, it’s no surprise that we’ll be seeing the novel adapted into a 2011 film, to be directed by James Watkins and starring Daniel Radcliffe* as Kipps.
*Click that link and turn on your sound. It’s worth it. Trust me on this one.
Check the WRL catalog for The Woman in Black
Jessica – I’ve told you about the atmospheric 2-man stage version of The Woman in Black I saw done in Raleigh. Apparently the memory of that experience still lingers with me. I was in a medical specialist’s office this morning, passing the time with Susan Hill’s book, when the nurse came in to take my blood pressure. 156 over 97! Now, she doesn’t trust the little wrist sphygmomanometer they use and I’m not fond of them, but something was definitely going on there.
That would be a wonderful study – the physical effects of reading and/or storytelling on the audience. Maybe publishers could use that kind of feedback to look for potential bestsellers.
Oh. Um. It didn’t actually scare me. I didn’t want to mention that in the review, since I am impervious to fright when reading fiction. I am not a good barometer. I am however glad to see that your reading experience was emotive enough to distort medical equipment.
I was discussing this with Penelope today, how I as a reader am not able to tap into primal emotions (fear, horror, lust) when reading a novel. I’m stuck with the abstract emotions like honor and dignity– nice enough in their own way, but not exactly pulse-pounding.
So probably I shouldn’t volunteer for any studies about physical responses during the reading experience– but what a great idea!