strange and random happenstance

If you follow me on social media you might have heard some rather declarative statements on November 14th when Netflix announced they were doing a new version of Rebecca starring Lily James and Armie Hammer. It's not that I object to their being a new Rebecca, I just happen to object to almost everything we know so far about this project. Let's start with Armie Hammer... um, he's not British. Not that I'll hold that against him... what I hold against him is that he's only three years older than Lily James. Maxim de Winter is about twenty-five years older than his twenty-one year old bride, not three! Lily could work, I honestly have liked her in everything she's been in, she just needs a different leading man. Because of all the actors out there, you need a certain something to BE Maxim de Winter, something indefinable. For example I was just watching The Addams Family last night and Raúl Juliá, he would have been an amazing Maxim. Armie, not so much.

Now let's break down the other aspects of the production. The book is being adapted by Jane Goldman, best known for two of the worst X-Men films and the Kingsman franchise, big budget superhero blockbusters don't exactly mesh well with Daphne Du Maurier unless you're keeping maybe two ideas and scrapping the rest of the story like Hitchcock did with The Birds. Yes, Goldman also adapted Stardust, which I liked, but she also did The Woman in Black, which I hated, making her hit-and-miss with adaptions. As for the director Ben Wheatley, having two episode of Doctor Who I disliked AND that horrid adaptation of High-Rise on his resume aren't endearing him to me in the least. Then I have questions for the team, is it going to be a jam-packed two hour production or a lavish four hour miniseries, because there's more chance in doing justice to the book if it's four hours. But with Netflix it could go either way... Here's hoping they salvage something good out of this star-crossed crew instead of making me hate it more than I hate the Charles Dance version.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 1 comments  

Labels: Armie Hammer, Charles Dance, Daphne Du Maurier, Doctor Who, Du Maurier December, High-Rise, Hitchcock, Lily James, Netflix, Raul Julia, Rebecca, Stardust, The Addams Family, The Birds, The Woman in Black, X-Men

Thornhill by Pam Smy
Published by: Roaring Brook Press
Publication Date: August 29th, 2017
Format: Hardcover, 544 Pages
Rating: ★★
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Ella Clarke is unpacking her possessions and placing them about her new bedroom. She places her favorite books on her new bookshelf, Jane Eyre and Rebecca being among them. She carefully hangs a poster for Susan Hill’s The Woman in Black on the slopping wall. But it is the picture of her deceased mother that has pride of place. With her father always away for work she is truly alone and her attention is drawn to the abandoned building outside her window, The Thornhill Institute, which was built as an orphanage for girls in the 1830s. One April day, a month after moving in, Ella thinks she sees a young girl in the yard of this derelict home and she goes to investigate, working her way past the "keep out" signs and the barbed wire. There she finds a broken doll's head. She painstakingly repairs the doll and returns it to where she found it. As she makes to leave she finds another broken doll and takes it home to repair. Whomever this girl is who is leaving these broken dolls is also alone and looking for some kind of connection and has found a kindred spirit in Ella. The local paper is the first to offer a clue as to who this mysterious girl is. Mary Baines died tragically at Thornhill after it was sold for development in 1982, thirty-five years earlier. Work on the development has been suspended ever since. Ella becomes drawn into Mary’s world which becomes more real to her than her own. One day when she finds a key in the garden she is lead to Mary’s diary and learns all about the horrors that were inflicted on her; the bully constantly banging on her door, the indifferent care of Mrs. Davies, Jane, and Pete. The cook, Kathleen, who was her only friend. The Doctor, Creane, whom she thought was a friend. The dolls and puppets who were her only solace, as was her favorite book, The Secret Garden. Ella relates and wants to be friends with Mary. When they finally meet the house goes up in flames and Thornill claims another victim, but will she be the last?

Thornhill is an odd book alternating between the present and the past, with Ella's story being told through pictures and Mary's story being told through diary entries. The alternating narrative technique isn't what's odd, what's odd is that I'm unsure what Smy's point was in writing this book. She brings up so many different emotions throughout the narrative, hitting the empathy card heavily, and then destroys any sympathy, any moral, with a big sweeping conflagration. This is a book that could have been sweet and redemptive, but instead is dark and disturbing, and totally telegraphed. Because here's the thing, the bleak ending of Mary leading Ella to her death so that they can be friends forever is obvious from that first illustration of Ella in her bedroom. The heavy-handed foreshadowing was laughable. I mean, maybe you can trick the targeted teen audience because they might be unfamiliar with the staples of Gothic literature, but that's weak storytelling, hoping your audience is oblivious versus actually crafting something of value. So if I haven't completely spoiled the book for you by now and for some daft reason you still want to read it look away now because I'm laying all Smy's cards on the table. So what do Ella's two favorite books, Rebecca and Jane Eyre have in common? Could it be a big massive fire like the one that kills Ella and destroys Thornhill? If you said yes, you are correct! And what can we learn from The Woman in Black? We can learn that ghosts are evil remorseless killing machines that can not be satisfied. Therefore what can we learn about Mary? You may think she deserves your sympathy but you'd be wrong, because, SHE KILLS ELLA! AKA, Mary is a remorseless killing machine. This point is further driven home by the young boy, Jacob, who moves into Ella's old room and sees Mary and Ella in the garden. Mary wanted a family and just one friend isn't enough. She's an evil evil ghost and she will kill you. Jacob, watch your back! 

Smy has a very odd moralistic code in this book, I mean just look to Mary killing Ella to prove my point. Back in 1982 Mary is driven beyond endurance and kills herself because of a bully and yet the message seems to say that the bully deserved copious chances at forgiveness because they were in the same isolated boat? Um... no. Here's the thing, bullies don't deserve forgiveness. Ever. Because if you forgive them they'll just think they can get away with it again and again. It's an abusive cycle that is very rarely broken. So while I initially really felt for Mary I could never fully get behind her reasoning because I would never give a bully a second chance. As it turns out I'm glad I never fully connected to Mary because she was crazy and a manipulator in her own right. So maybe Smy's actually against forgiving bullies? Because if we can't trust Mary's thinking then we know we can't trust her reasoning and therefore we can't trust all the chances she gave that little torturing bitch. Because there needs to be a zero tolerance policy when it comes to bullies. They need to be reported, they need to be smacked down, they need to be stopped. When I was younger I was bullied, in particular by one classmate who loved to call me names as original as whale and blubber. Thankfully he transferred to another school after sixth grade so I didn't have to deal anymore with his verbal abuse. In high school he returned. But the bullying didn't, because I would not let him back into my world. My best friend at the time encouraged me to be nice to him because "he had changed." Well, if he had he would have started with an apology. He forever remains on my list of people who if bad things were to befall them I wouldn't be heartbroken. Yes. I have a list. You're probably thinking that this is a bleak way to look at things. That yes, people should be allowed to change, given the chance at forgiveness. But I have had too many instances when this has bitten me in the ass. Therefore I now only forgive people who have wronged me because I know it will really piss them off. Seriously, try it sometime.    

Moving on from bullies, because seriously, nothing annoys them more than their irrelevance, this book is a combination of narration styles so I would be remiss if I didn't move beyond the narrative and talk about the art. Talk about that cover which totally drew me in. That bleak, looming house in darkness with the one illuminated window. That cover has an amazing graphic quality that doesn't jive with any of the interior art. Smy's work feels out of touch with what is happening in art today. Not the concept of two different narrative styles, that's very one point, but just the look of her work. I really don't know how to get across this feeling that the art looks dated. OK, so when I was a kid I had this picture book about people and animals. I can't remember the name, but if you saw it you would easily place it as something from the seventies. The art was well done, but at the same time a jumble. Everything was on top of each other and the muted and limited color palette just didn't work. As a small child I kept thinking, this book's style is dated. And it wasn't that old a book! Smy's drawing style reminded me of that book. It felt too retro, too of my childhood, but not in a good and nostalgic way, in a way that made me think she was out of touch. Now you might be saying, "hang on a minute part of this book takes place in 1982 when you were only four!" First I'd say it's creepy that you know exactly how old I was in 1982, but I'd also point out four year old me thought the book this reminds me of was dated, so in doesn't bring to mind the time period, it brings to mind how much I didn't like that art, and anyhow, the illustrated section is the current timeline NOT the eighties timeline. Which indicates, that yes, I was a critic from a very early age, but more, I know what I like and I know what I don't like and just because someone might think this illustration style is classic, I just say dated. I've never followed the band, I don't believe a classic is a classic because everyone says so, I've never liked The Giving Tree, a detail I don't know why I feel I need to reveal here, but if you want to read a book the lets bullies win with meh art, go for it! You're forewarned.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: 80s, Bullies, Fire, Forgiveness, Going Gothic, Gothic, Graphic Novel, Illustration, Jane Eyre, Pam Smy, Rebecca, Susan Hill, The Giving Tree, The Secret Garden, The Woman in Black, Thornhill, Unreliable Narrator

The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter
Published by: Penguin Classics
Publication Date: 1979
Format: Paperback, 176 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy

A young and blushing bride is rushed by her new husband to his isolated castle. She doesn't love him, but he is wealthy, and that decides her mother. Once in his domain he subjects her to humiliations and sexual sadism. Yet this is just his character. A character that will test his new wife beyond sanity. For he purposefully leaves her alone to her own devices and she finds that which brings her husband joy. Torture. Murder. Death. All his previous wives' corpses in the cellar. All brutally slain at her new husband's hand. Man's baser desires and his ability to overcome or embrace them run thematically through these ten classic stories which are reinterpretations and retellings of some of the most famous of fairy tales. Or distillations if you will, as Carter said, "My intention was not to do 'versions' or, as the American edition of the book said, horribly, 'adult' fairy tales, but to extract the latent content from the traditional stories." Beasts from vampires to werewolves stride across the pages of Carter's collection. Some of the beasts look dangerous but are truly kind, while man may look harmless yet he can be the most dangerous of all. And while they are adult, brutal and sensual, they aren't just versions, despite Carter not wanting them to be labelled as such she can't escape the classification, but they are something more. They are subversive, they are feminine, they are something entirely new that spawned many imitations and inspired many authors with her magical realism. They are their own thing, but the beginning of something new is often not the best or the final version of what was attempted.

There is no doubt in my mind that The Bloody Chamber is a classic. Female empowerment through the retelling and restructuring of fairy tales was at the time it was written original and has now evolved into a subgenre all it's own thanks to the groundwork laid by Carter. Yet because something is a classic doesn't mean it's enjoyable. Yes, you can have admiration for something that you just don't quite like, and that's how I feel about this collection of short stories. I feel as if they were written to be studied, not enjoyed. Carter was pushing boundaries, establishing ideas that would development into today's literary tropes, but these stories come across as experiments, some failing and some succeeding. As a whole they are overly written with obscure words meant to be studied for hidden and double meanings. This style of writing doesn't really flow. It has meaning but that doesn't mean it's fun to read. Of the ten short stories the titular story is the strongest. Based on "Bluebeard" this overly sexual story plays with the underpinnings of the original tale of a beastly marriage and allows it to become somehow modern with the introduction of technology and also feminist with the bride being saved by her mother instead of her brothers. Yet what I was forcibly struck by is how this story has effected other storytellers. You can see how it influenced Susan Hill's writing of The Woman in Black. But more importantly, I defy you to think of any world in which Guillermo del Toro could have made Crimson Peak without The Bloody Chamber having existed first.

Despite how groundbreaking a collection this is there is a repetitive quality that just grinds on you. Carter is in several instances taking the same source material and trying to spin it into a different interpretation. Of the ten stories two are based on "Beauty and the Beast" while three, almost a third of the book, are based on "Little Red Riding Hood," though one of them, in a way I can not fathom, supposedly incorporates Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There. Was it the mirror? Please someone explain this to me! So when you get to the end of the book and you have three stories all coming out of the same source, you might like the first, by the second you feel as if you've already read it, and by the third you are just sick of the story. It doesn't help that she literally uses the same turn of phrase again and again. Observations, words, structure, they add to the repetitive feeling. Yet if we were to take a bigger view, using the same theme, the same story, the same language over and over is like an artist creating a series of paintings. There's a unifying theme. There's a similarity. There's something undefinable that the artist is bringing to the work that makes them all a unit. So while the stories in The Bloody Chamber might repeat, might make clunky transitions from one story to the next, I find it fascinating how you are looking at her process. You are seeing her develop a series of ideas. Like the visual artist, she is working through shit, and as I've said previously, that is why this collection is interesting. You can studying it, you can break it down, and you can see how she's working through it.

Carter isn't just working through concepts, she's also working through ways in which to tell a story. So yes, occasionally the stories can end up feeling like writing exercises watching how she plays with narrating the story, but never once did it slip into that smugness that defined the "codas" in John Scalzi's Redshirts. There it felt like pretension, here it feels like experimentation, and that is the saving grace. The two stories that play with this the most are "Puss-in-Boots" and "The Erl-King." The later story is almost incomprehensibly dense and there's a weird disconnect with the narration slipping between second and third person, and yes, I will always have issues with second person narration, there's something about it that rubs me the wrong way. Yet "Puss-in-Boots" works in switching between first and third person. The slipping between the two from personal to detached just becomes the personality of a cat. Through this little narrative slip she is able to make her whole story imbued with the personality of her protagonist. So while I may criticize this roughness to the stories, this literary exercise feel, sometimes it works so well that I can not fault her for trying something again and again until she got it right. I guess what I just find most interesting about this book is that it's an author willing to show their flaws. Their process is on display and once again I come back to the importance of this work, not as a book you sit down and read for fun, but one you sit down and study. You embrace the lessons you learn. Though not this time through fairy tale morality, but through the tricks of the storyteller.

All the tricks and twists and literary play mean that while some stories are long others are brutally short and brutally violent. While "The Courtship of Mr. Lyon" could fall under the brutally short descriptor, a retelling of "Beauty and the Beast" at top speed, only one story falls under both categories, "The Snow Child," which even Wikipedia deems nothing more than a vignette. After I read this story my only thoughts were "WTF did I just read!?!" The story is literally only two pages long and involves a Count wishing a child, a "young woman" into being who dies and he then rapes her corpse and she turns into snow! What the hell is this story supposed to be about? What is the moral? Most versions of "The Snow-child" are about infidelity and desire, so sure, we've got that here what with the Count raping a young girl in front of his wife... but I just don't know how to handle this. Fairy Tales have always been about subjugation, teaching lessons so children and wives will behave, yet Carter has made her stories more about empowerment and belonging, finding you place in the world even if it's amongst the beasts. What does the rape of anyone, let alone a snow corpse, have to do with any of the messages and themes she's been toying with? Why didn't anyone go, you know, your stories, they can be a bit brutal, but this one, well this one is a step too far, so let's just nix it and move onto the moody vampire? OK? Seriously, MOODY VAMPIRE no more rape! I'd even take a fourth retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood" than to EVER have to think of Carter's version of "The Snow Child" ever again.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Angela Carter, Beauty and the Beast, Bluebeard, Crimson Peak, Fairy Tales, Going Gothic, Guillermo del Toro, Lewis Carroll, Little Red Riding Hood, Rape, The Bloody Chamber, The Snow Child, The Woman in Black

The Collectors by Philip Pullman
Published by: Alfred A. Knopf
Publication Date: September 22nd, 2015
Format: Kindle, 24 Pages
Rating: ★★★
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On a winter's night at Oxford College Horley sits in the Senior Common Room with his guest Grinstead. As the room gets colder and the hour gets late the other occupants slowly leave while the two talk about Horley's recent purchase of a painting and it's link to another piece of art, a rather terrifying bronze monkey. The painting Horley bought because it was a rather arresting portrait of a young women with an enigmatic air whose expression seems to always be changing. The dealer he bought it from had already made the sale so the story that came with it appears to be genuine. The painting has never been in one owner's hands for long. But wherever it goes the bronze monkey is soon to follow, though occasionally it is the monkey that arrives first and the painting shows up later. These two objects have some connection that cannot be broken as the provenance of the two pieces has undoubtedly shown. As it so happens the monkey has just arrived in Horley's possession as payment for a debt just after he purchased the painting. He hasn't even opened the packing case but the fact of it's arrival proves the story to be genuine. At this point Grinstead almost demands of his host that the time has come for Horley to show him these two pieces. They return to Horley's rooms where things take a turn. Grinstead has not been entirely honest with Horley and the story that was told wasn't new to him. These two pieces have a storied past steeped in mysteries from a distant world. And their subjects? They might just be pleased at the fate of these two men.

The Collectors never registered on my radar when it was first released in 2014 because it was an audiobook and while I am a fan of books in all forms there's something about audiobooks that I just tune out. Therefore my recent discovery that it was released as a short story for Kindle was a joyous surprise because it took me back to the beginning of Lyra's story in The Golden Compass and reconnected me to what I loved best, Lyra's life at Oxford before her journeys began. If there's one image seared in my brain from His Dark Materials it's Lyra sneaking into the Retiring Room at Jordan College. That musty and fusty domain of the male teachers that holds so much interest to the young girl and also catapults her into her destiny. With Horley and Grinstead I felt I was back in that room hearing about the adventures as the true armchair traveler that I am. I was totally absorbed until the story went a little too Douglas Adams and I felt Dirk Gently wandering about. But issues aside, what Pullman does here is to tap into the zeitgeist of the traditional English ghost story and deliver his own spin on classics like The Turn of the Screw and The Woman in Black. There's not just the mystery surrounding these two pieces of art which is almost timeless, but something akin to an ancient Egyptian curse. Something about these kind of tales that fascinate people down through the generations. Why else would people still talk about the curse of Tutankhamun?

This story taps into something primal with this idea of worlds touching and bleeding into each other and through this we get another way to look at ghosts. When I was little I had an imaginary friend. Years later I started to wonder if he was actually imaginary. I remember when we moved across the street I told my parents that Robbie couldn't come over anymore. Later I learned that the previous owner of our old house had hanged himself in the garage, right near where I saw Robbie. What if Robbie was a ghost? Or, here, what if he was someone from another world who slipped through and played with me until one day he couldn't. Maybe it was his ghostly tether or maybe it was his doorway into this world. Whatever it was this story showed me another way to look at the world. Yet this little glimpse into the fluidity of worlds was nothing for what I felt for the connection the two pieces of artwork had for each other. The painting was of Lyra's mother, Mrs. Coulter, before her marriage, and the bronze was of her daemon. While within Pullman's stories these two are morally ambiguous characters leaning towards being unrepentantly evil their connection even after death is so touching to me. That their link was so strong that inanimate objects that are basically their totems or avatars must always be together shows the power of love. They had each other and would always return to each other. So while yes, this is a ghost story, true ghost stories always, deep down, highlight something more, something human, and here, it's the power of love.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: A Different Kind of P and P, Art, Daemons, Ghost Story, His Dark Materials, King Tut, Love, Lyra Belacqua, Oxford, Philip Pullman, The Collectors, The Golden Compass, The Turn of the Screw, The Woman in Black

The Woman in Black by Susan Hill
Published by: Vintage
Publication Date: 1983
Format: Paperback, 164 Pages
Rating: ★★
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Arthur Kipps could easily contribute to his family's tradition of ghost stories on Christmas Eve... only his ghost story is so dark and so disturbing he dare not utter it. After the holidays he decides he will commit it to paper so that it is recorded, exorcised from his life. A life that was destroyed by him going to Crythin Gifford to deal with the estate of Mrs. Alice Drablow. As a young solicitor he was excited at the opportunity this job gave him to prove his worth. He planned to spend a few days sorting out the elderly widow's papers and return to London and his fiance. Though the townspeople seemed reluctant to endorse his staying out at Eel Marsh House by himself. Arthur thought it was because of the Nine Lives Causeway which would cut him off from the mainland during high tide... but the seclusion wasn't the only reason. The main reason is a woman in black Arthur saw at Mrs. Drablow's funeral. A woman whose appearance presages something which the villagers dare not discuss. Despite vocal opposition Arthur ensconces himself at Eel Marsh House and is subjected to many supernatural apparitions, terrifying noises coming from the causeway, as well as many revelations. He learns who the woman in black is and what she wants, and what she will take from him... though, even in death, it looks like she will forever be unsatisfied.

I remember when the Daniel Radcliffe adaptation of this book arrived in cinemas, everyone who saw it kept insisting that it didn't capture the book. How The Woman in Black was a classic of Gothic storytelling and the stage adaptation was brilliant, but how I should avoid the movie and just go to the source. Of course I did both. I picked up the book at Barnes and Noble and then I eventually got around to watching the movie. Oddly for me I actually decided to watch the movie first and was unimpressed and confused. The sequel, The Woman in Black: Angel of Death, which had almost nothing to do with the book or the adaptation, might actually be my favorite among the three. As for the book, I don't know if it's because people were building it up to me or if it's just that horror films and other Gothic stories have gone so far beyond what Hill did here in the early eighties that it fell flat. The worst person though in building up this story is Hill herself. She set herself up for a fall with all the allusions to this story being too terrifying for Christmas Eve, and that it really shouldn't be uttered. I'm sorry, but if your narrator is telling a story about his past right there almost all jeopardy is gone. He's alive at the end. He survives into old age. He's never in real danger, so why is this story so scary if he makes it out alive?

But Hill keeps insisting on the danger... and with each insistence, with each demurral from daring to tell the tale she comes across as smug and overly pleased with herself. Oh Arthur was so damaged he never recovered... yet here he is with his new family surrounded by love and light at Christmas! So Hill thinks she's SO clever trying to break all the tropes? Others have broken the tropes and FAR better. She thinks the beauty of nature and the surrounding country makes it not your typical ghost story? I think that Mary Shelley kind of blasted apart the setting trope with her Gothic classic. Breaking with genre locals and connecting with nature... sorry to say but a pretty place doesn't a book make. The question of who is really the baby's mother? Um, yeah, it's not like this is anything original. Especially in Gothic literature! As for the townsfolk who don't trust outsiders and close ranks? Seriously, you think this was groundbreaking? In fact, this is also to everyone who recommended this book to me. Seriously? And no, you're not allowed to use the excuse that she did it first, because 1983 isn't that long ago and many many people did it better first. I just couldn't shake this feeling of Hill thinking she was superior throughout the book and this continually alienated me.

The narrative just didn't sit right with me. But then again this could all be Arthur's fault. Arthur isn't a good lead. Skipping over his dramatics about even wanting to tell his story, let's just go with him being a whiny little pretentious bitch. He views this job as a real feather in his cap. Oh, he'll just do this job so well that he'll get a huge promotion enabling him to marry his fiance sooner and well, his boss will just love him and never want to let him go, just throwing money at him for simply doing his job. I could say that this was Hill showing the naivety of youth that will be jaded by experience... but the fact is I wanted to smack him so bad that I couldn't relate to him on any level. Plus he's like manic depressive or something, split personality perhaps? Because during the days at Eel Marsh House nothing bothers him, he's all rainbows and puppies and oh, that noise was nothing, look at the beautiful view out these glorious windows, and the night falls and he's running around like a chicken with his head cut off screaming about the noises on the causeway. Maybe Jekyll and Hyde is a more apt way of describing Arthur. Yes, things can get scary at night, in the dark, but having him so blithely swan through the day talking about how lovely everything is? He's in serious denial and needs help. But it's not coming from me.

What does "help" Arthur is that lovely trope of the fever that puts him abed. Suffered by any overactive man who just collapses from strain. I kind of wonder if this is a trope that women writers use to just poke fun at men who have been claiming that women are weaker and prone to fainting... because whenever I've seen this trope used so heavy-handedly it's always been from the pen of a female author. Like they're saying, "we'll show you a wilted flower!" Which amuses me to no end. But then again Conan Doyle even used this trope in a Sherlock Holmes story... so maybe it was really a thing. And I have to say, if this is a real thing, how can I get in on this action? Because I'd seriously like a month off to just lay in bed and read. Because I don't want to take it to the extreme of delirium, but just a slight wasting problem that needed bed rest. Can you seriously, in this day and age, imagine someone saying that they are convalescing for the foreseeable future do to nerves? Everything is so diagnosable now this isn't something that can be believable in novels written in present times about the past. We know better now and so this trope too must pass.

The Woman in Black was actually in a perilous position. Until the last few pages it was about to receive the dreaded one star rating and then it surprisingly redeemed itself, just a little. If you don't know the motives of the woman in black, Mrs. Drablow's sister, now is the time to get a fever and take to your bed. OK, so I assume now if you're still reading you either already know or don't care to be spoiled that the woman in blacks appearance heralds the death of a child, which is why the villagers never wanted to talk about it, because it might be their child next. So Arthur figures this all out we and think he's getting his happily ever after, he gets married, has a child, but turns out, things aren't so resolved. Because the woman in black, she is a ghost that is unrepentantly evil. She is not able to be "put to rest" or "exorcised" and THIS is the selling point of the book. There is no happy resolution. Arthur loses his wife and child to the woman in black because she is pure evil. This is rare in ghost stories, I can only think of a few, usually Japanese in base, where there is no tidy resolution, evil wins. Yes, you could say that Henry James did this with The Turn of the Screw, but he didn't do it effectively. Here there is no doubt that evil wins. And I like that. It's spelled out cleanly and clearly, like the vengeful ghost in The Ring. So if you stick with it, there's this lovely light at the end of the tunnel. Sure it's actually a train, but it brings you some satisfaction.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Children, Christmas, Daniel Radcliffe, Fever, Ghost Story, Going Gothic, Henry James, Jekyll and Hyde, Mary Shelley, Susan Hill, The Ring, The Turn of the Screw, The Woman in Black, Trope

The Uninvited Guests by Sadie Jones
Published by: Harper
Publication Date: May 1st, 2012
Format: Hardcover, 272 Pages
Rating: ★★★
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Emerald Torrington is turning twenty. To celebrate there is to be a party at Sterne with her closest friends and family. Yet the family is preoccupied with the fact that unless Charlotte's second husband comes through, they are to lose Sterne. Charlotte stays ensconced in her room as her daughter Emerald busies herself with the preparation for the party, while her son Clovis lounges about, which is what Clovis does best. Her youngest, Smudge, is plotting how to get another animal silhouette on her bedroom wall while the family is busy with the party... Lady the horse is going to be a lot more tricky than the cats or dogs. The maid Mytle and the cook Florence Trieves are in a state trying to get ready for the arrival of the Suttons, Ernest and his sister Patience, as well as John Buchanan, who has been buying up local estates and covets Sterne. Yet all this is pushed to one side when there's a horrible train accident nearby and Sterne is needed to house those who were in the accident.

The upheaval of unexpected guests on the night of a big dinner party is a big to-do, but they all do what they can. There are only a few people after all. But when Charlie Traversham-Beechers walks through that door and back into Charlotte's life, the victims from the accident are the least of their worries. Charlie is invited to dinner, as he is dressed for the occasion, minus a tie... he is a cut above the other ragged souls that have been displaced by the accident. Yet he brings a malevolence with him. A cheerful party becomes mean and vicious. Parlor games taunt and torture, versus entertain. It is as if the devil himself has come into their midst and has unleashed everyone's inhibitions. The passengers also start to increase in number and become more and more rowdy and demanding. Why hasn't the railway come to collect them? How much longer will Sterne endure this upheaval? If the inhabitants of the house can just regain control, just until the dawn, perhaps all will be right.... even if there might still be a horse in Sumdge's room.

Imagine Flavia De Luce in a ghost story like The Woman in Black or The Turn of the Screw and you've pretty much got this book. There are two driving narratives, that of the dinner guests and that of Smudge. Smudge is the comedic counterpoint that balances the continuing degradation of the dinner party. Yet Smudge is the key on which the denouement hinges. Personally I felt that the book was a little hard to get into. Not only do you have trouble establishing a time period, if you are like me and avoid book descriptions like the plague because they might spoil the book, you wouldn't know this book is set in 1912. I was totally confused by the combination of cars, carts, and carriages, that I couldn't dive into the book. Also, the plethora of hard to say names didn't help the narrative at all either. Yet, with the arrival of the train passengers I knew that this book could work. As I said at the time: "If this goes where I'm hoping it goes, it's going to be bloody brilliant!" It did go there! I loved that it was willing to embrace not just the Downton Abbey aspects of the story, but the supernatural aspects that the vagueness of details allowed for.

Yet... in the end, it overstayed it's welcome, much like the passengers. There was a distinct feeling of this should end, but it didn't, at least not when it should have. The party is over, now they're dancing, now they're eating, now they're providing beds for all the people, on and on. Sometimes it's best to leave things to the imagination and just fade to morning. I didn't need to read the minutiae of getting the horse out of the house, or of the inhabitants of Sterne redeeming themselves for their pushing aside of the passengers. By overstaying it's welcome, the book took what would have been a brilliant short story and made it a decent book. It really would have been a wicked awesome short story and kept that air of the supernatural, without having it fade away to meaninglessness.

Also, on a completely different note. I loved this book's design. The cover is sheer perfection, well, except for the mistake of Charlie having a tie. But the end papers being Smudge's silhouettes on her wall was wonderful.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Charlie Traversham-Beechers, Downton Abbey, Flavia De Luce, Sadie Jones, Smudge, Sterne, The Turn of the Screw, The Uninvited Guests, The Woman in Black