H. Russell WakefieldRezensionen

'The Red Lodge' is a horror story classic about a pretty house by a river that the owner rents out. The owner knows the place is haunted and that there is a good chance that one or more of his renters will die each time. He doesn't care. This summer the Red Lodge is being rented by a couple, their little boy, and a few servants.

Sometimes patches of green slime show up in the house. The little boy is afraid of 'the green monkey'. He's also afraid of the river, although he has enjoyed water before. The wife, who fell for the Red Lodge's attractiveness, has not been sleeping well. As the odd happenings mount up, the man consults a neighbor and learns about the house's unsavory history.

Will they leave in time, or will the Red Lodge claim another victim?

Taken on loan from my local for a DEEP ONES reading of one story ("Professor Pownall's Oversight"), that effort was strong enough I renewed the book several times in order to read through the rest. "Pownall" features an unusual occurrence, the haunting of chess matches, and the end hints at a wholly unexpected spectral transference.

Other stories seem built around a pun or phrase ("Day-Dream in Macedon", "Blind Man's Buff", "Damp Sheets") but are not novelty stories for that, providing some of Wakefield's most memorable hauntings. At other times, HRW appears to go for pathos over horror: "The Gorge of the Churels" most emphatically, but also "Triumph of Death". Typically there is a coda or epilogue after the narrator dies, several times a written document.

Worth picking up any hardbound edition, Wakefield writes well and his tales reflect a distinct take on the ghost story. Alongside that chess story, for example, mathematicians feature in two stories here ("Kink in Space-Time" and "Immortal Bird"), surely atypical of the genre. That epistemological slant on horror is an attribute I particularly appreciate in such fiction.

A friend recommended Wakefield as being in the same class as M.R. James. My own feeling is that his stories are competently done but they lack the antiquarian touches I enjoy in James, and they are rarely as terrifying. They generally involve ordinary middle class English people of the 1920s (when they were probably written), usually living in ordinary homes, apartment, and offices (in one case an artist's studio) where something unpleasant(murder, suicide) has happened in the fairly recent past, living immaterial traces behind --not necessarily supernatural in the strict sense --some of his characters advocate Doyle's theory that events leave a kind of "recording" in the atmosphere where they occur, which plays out over and over without have a conscious spirit behind it. On the other hand, there s one story of two mountain (or at least hill) climbers who encounter a creature that only manifests when there is snow on the ground around a certain cairn. That one remains unexplained.Another involves a car in which an American gangster coupe were bumped off. I believe I have read a more recent story which handles the same idea more smoothly, with only one victim. I don;t know if the other writer (whose name I don't remember) was influenced by Wakefield or it was an independent invention. In a fair number of cases, the people who have these encounters are frightened but survive, which I prefer to the others in which they die horribly. Sometimes there is a victim of vengeance from beyond the grave who deserves the punishment, but the reader is not usually in that person;s mind, which makes it more bearable.

"H. R. Wakefield, in They Return at Evening (a good title) gives us a mixed bag, from which I should remove one or two that leave a nasty taste. Among the residue are some admirable pieces, very inventive." In "Some Remarks on Ghost Stories" in The Bookman (December 1929)

I remember it reminding me of Twin Peaks.

This collection of Wakefield's stories is very good. Although there is a slightly larger range of supernatural horror than might be suggested by the title's category of "ghost stories," most are in fact about spectral hauntings and the effects of genii locorum -- always malign. "The Red Lodge" and "Blind Man's Buff" are, for example, almost painfully traditional haunted house tales in terms of plot, but told with great skill and effect. Wakefield's curses and ghosts are never exorcised; at best (and that rarely), the living characters manage to flee and escape their further influence.

A couple of the stories are concerned with sport. "The Seventeenth Hole at Duncaster" drew on the author's own long-term enjoyment of golf, and is in many ways a solid example of his work in the ghost story genre. As usual, the origin and nature of the spirits are much murkier than their effects. "Professor Pownall's Oversight" is a chess ghost story, and not only a good one, but perhaps the best chess ghost story possible.

Another notable feature is in the two stories featuring characters modeled on the magus Aleister Crowley. In "He cometh and he passeth by ..." Crowley is made over into the homicidal sorcerer Oscar Clinton, while in "A Black Solitude" Apuleius Charlton is based on an older and more benign Beast: "He was sixty odd at this time and very well preserved in spite of his hard boozing, addiction to drugs and sexual fervour, for it was alleged that joy-maidens or temple-slaves were well represented in his mystic entourage. (If I were a Merlin, they would be in mine!)" (128)

The stories are a rough mix between those in which evildoers meet some justified comeuppance, and others where the supernatural afflicts characters merely mediocre or already cursed with unusual talent. In several cases, there are both, or it is left to the reader to judge which of these categories applies. Wakefield's work had the admiration of M.R. James and H.P. Lovecraft alike, and it is easy to see why.

The Red Lodge was a story I had read first many years ago and I still find that it has the same emotional impact on me now that it did originally. That all encompassing sense of dread that pervades the story made me feel claustraphobic at times. Perhaps my favorite previously unread tale in this collection was, The Triumph of Death, with the odious Miss Pendleham. With little inferences to other gothic style tales throughout the story it was amusing to find them and try and identify them. One question though. Was it The Upper Berth by F. Marion Crawford or a tale by M.R. James that had the bedclothes coming to life and strangling the man in the tale?
Other ones I enjoyed were: Blindman's Buff, Look Up There, Damp Sheets and A Black Solitude.

Leuke stijl, geestige observaties. Vreemde conversaties met een mengeling van slang en archaïsmen ("Farewell for the present"). Had wel halverwege het boek, ondanks de red herrings, al een idee wie de dader zou kunnen zijn. En verdomd. Merkwaardig waren de uithalen naar Nazi-Duitsland die de censor kennelijk ontgaan zijn (mijn exemplaar is uitgegeven in Nazi-Duitsland in 1937). Ook leuk: een werkende vrouw die na haar huwelijk wil blijven werken tot er kindjes komen. Ze heeft geen zin in uitslapen, bibliotheekboeken lezen, winkelen, eindeloze robbers bridge en een minnaar - of twee.

I read this as I do most short story collections, slowly and intermittently. Like a box of Godiva chocolates, it's better tasted one piece at a time, no gorging!

These stories reminded me very much of M.R. James, but out of academe ("He Cometh and He Passeth By" strongly echoes Casting the Runes). The same suggestiveness, the same lack of explanation, that gives James' tales a miasma of evil. Not for Wakefield (or James) the benevolent ghost. Only malignant spirits need apply.

Wakefield is a more contemporary ghost story teller, however, and it is very interesting to see how he introduces the new disciplines of psychiatry and psychology into his work. Writing after World War I (and in at least one story, World War II)*, he nods in a few of his stories to what was then called "shell shock", and we now call Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, with the then popular idea that a shock would cause a lesion in the brain which, under stress, would cause delusions. And one story, A Kink in Space-Time, begins by sounding like a description of paranoid schizophrenia, but of course there's more to it than that.

The Red House and Damp Sheets were my favorites here. I thought Death of a Bumblebee the least successful.

* I really wish the copyright page had given the dates of the first publications of these stories, or that the otherwise excellent Introduction had dated them.