The Little Stranger

School is ending, summer vacation about to begin. This was always my favorite time of the year to relax with a sprawling Victorian-era novel, or better yet, a Victorian-era ghost story. Even though I'm no longer on a school schedule, my urge for that slowly unwinding, creepy tale remains. Fortunately Sarah Waters anticipated my need and published The Little Stranger on April 30, 2009.

It is one thing to read Jane Eyre, The Wyvern Mystery, or Dracula for a dose of Victorian-era gothic, but why would anyone want to read a Victorian-era ghost story published about a month before Apple announced the iPhone 3GS? The answer is that Sarah Waters writes with a modern perspective on the death of the Victorian era, and The Little Stranger is a love letter to the now extinct gothic novel.

Waters speaks to the modern reader's nostalgia for Victorian-era gothic by touching her hat to the conventions of these tales. Her protagonist is a family doctor, a man of science, reason, and compassion. Her setting is a magnificent, but crumbling, haunted house. The haunted descend into very Victorian-style madness. And, of course, there is plenty of unspoken sexual tension. With her established conventions creating a backdrop of nostalgia, Waters then writes about the decline of the Victorian era, the end of a way of life that brought us the Brontës, Le Fanu, Stoker. Her protagonist doctor is concerned about the end of his way of life, as events in the story take place on the eve of establishing nationalized health care in England. Her haunted manor house is crumbling a little more than necessary for traditional gothic ambiance. In fact, Hundreds Hall had been partially stripped and ravaged to house soldiers during the war. The family are struggling to hold onto the house, and selling off great tracts of surrounding land to pay the bills. And because the government won't pay for public utilities to run to its farm, even the dairy is failing. So of course the family, the haunted, are fading aristocrats, people with land and title living miserable, deprived, and desperate lives. The modern world has passed them by, and they are struggling, isolated and alone, knowing that one day their property will be converted into a smart new housing development. As for the sexual tension, even that takes an unconventional turn.

I thoroughly enjoyed The Little Stranger. It's a totally satisfying ghost story, tipping its hat to convention, then going beyond convention to describe an interesting historical transition that ended the age of one of my favorite genres. I also appreciated the way Waters treated the mystery of the ghost. Waters gives her own firm opinion on the strange events at Hundreds Hall, but leaves the reader to connect the dots, and even leaves a little space for the reader to come to his or her own conclusion.

On Amazon The Little Stranger is #144 in Books and #14 in genre fiction. It is #145 in the Kindle Store.

The Dressmaker's Child

For the second post in a row I'll be discussing a knighted author. Previously I wrote about Englishman, (Sir) Terry Pratchett, and his first Discworld book. Today I'll be discussing a haunting short story by the Irish (Sir) William Trevor.

I wonder what it would be like to live in a country where authors were knighted for service to literature...

Far from the glory of knighthood, "The Dressmaker's Child" is a story about ordinary folks . It is, in fact, the very ordinariness of Trevor's characters that makes the story so honest and strangely beautiful.

Just like The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, "The Dressmaker's Child" is mainstream literary fiction that takes on some speculative overtones. The child in the story is not a ghost, yet she haunts like one. The mother is an outcast woman, not a witch- yet her spell entrances, just the same. The story is not really supernatural fiction, but it certainly owes much of its ambiance to the ghost story genre.

I loved the way Trevor established the concrete, the familiar, the real, then blended it with subtle mysticism. "The Dressmaker's Child" makes the reader feel as though magic might brush past at any moment- particularly when it's least expected.

The story is part of a collection, Cheating at Canasta, which ranks at #34,288 in the Kindle store and #228,971 in Amazon's Bestselling Books.

Duma Key had me at hello

Several weeks ago when I posted about the Kindle's bestseller lists in science fiction, fantasy, and horror, I mentioned that King held three of the top five places in the list. Now he holds two of the top five (his number five usurped by Scott Smith). But King's latest novel, Duma Key, still holds strong at number one. Duma Key also ranks #2 in horror in Amazon's paper bound bookstore.

There's no doubt King's well-known name helps Duma Key climb bestseller lists. Yet I can't help but wonder whether the extraordinarily strong opening of the book isn't responsible for a lot of those sales. Whether readers downloaded the first sample chapter of the novel on their Kindle, downloaded the free PDF sample from Amazon's product description page, or flipped through the first chapters in a brick and mortar store- there's no doubt that something magical was going on in those first few chapters, and I'll bet readers sensed it. To quote a favorite saying of Melinda, eldest daughter of Duma Key's protagonist, this novel "had me at hello."

I think King's depiction of his damaged protagonist in the opening chapters is some of his best writing. The horror element of those initial pages isn't supernatural in the least- hospital beds, blinding pain, rage, confusion- are all very real. Details, such as the words printed on the seat belt that pressed near the protagonist's face during the accident that ended his "first life," are just as terrible, perhaps more terrible, than the supernatural horror story that follows.

Can such a strong beginning sustain so high a level of quality through nearly 600 hardcover pages? In the case of Duma Key, the answer is no.

As the protagonist began his journey of rebuilding his "second life," King began to use the familiar (and fun) patterns of supernatural fiction writing, and some of the raw energy of the opening was lost. One of the strengths of the body of the novel was repetition of themes embodied through specific details of everyday life. The novel's biggest weakness was a long stretch of "too good to be true" fortune and friendship forging, that bordered on too ideal and too sweet for me, even if King constantly held the threat of ominous mojo coming to ruin it all.

And, though the climax of the novel held my attention and made me hold my breath, I could almost see the bones of the story outline poking through the flesh of the narrative. King brought the story to a satisfying conclusion, but he didn't get the job done with anywhere near the skill and insight that he used to open it.

Although the stunning quality of the opening waned, Duma Key is still one of my supernatural fiction favorites. It was a fun, satisfying read. My criticism is that the superb opening made me expect something more of the middle and the end.

Oh- and I may never be able to face a rag doll again. Especially if its hair is RED.