Andrew Taylor's "Fireside Gothic"
A review
The three stories in this collection were
originally published as separate “Kindle Singles” but they complement each other
very well. Despite their different settings, they share some overlapping
themes. More importantly, they all express the atmosphere of old-fashioned
eeriness evoked by the well-chosen title Fireside Gothic. This is not
blood-and-gore horror, but the type of other-worldly terror which creeps under the
reader’s skin. I’ve read a blurb
comparing these stories to Andrew Michael Hurley’s brand of folk horror, The
Loney in particular. Even this is widely
off the mark. If anything, these works are more similar to the ghostly tales of
the late 19th and early 20th Centuries or the sort of
pastiche (used in its most positive sense) which you would expect from contemporary
authors such as Susan Hill.
A perfect example is the opener – Broken
Voices. Set in the years prior to
the First World War, its protagonists are two teenage students at a Cathedral
school who unexpectedly get to spend the Christmas holidays at their school,
lodging with a retired teacher. Inspired
by ghostly tales about a long-dead composer haunting the cathedral, the boys
set off on a nocturnal hunt for the lost score of an anthem, supposedly the
composer’s masterpiece. Unsurprisingly,
this turns out to be a bad idea.
The story’s ecclesiastical and scholarly setting
is one which M.R. James or E.F. Benson would have found familiar, and reading
it gave me the same sort of shivers up the spine which I get from these authors.
It helped that I was reading Broken Voices on the first (cold)ish
Saturday in my part of the world, and that on the same day I was due to take
part in an early Christmas concert. I always savour these types of
serendipities which complement the content of a story I’m reading and help me
delve into its atmosphere. (I remember
the same type of feeling when I was reading Charles Palliser’s The Unburied
in December a couple of years back). Indeed, Broken Voices is my favourite in
this collection, despite its anticlimactic ending.
The premise of The Leper House is
markedly different but, despite its modern trappings (a broken-down car in a remote
coastal area with no satnav or phone coverage), it also harks back to a classic
trope in ghost stories: on a stormy night, the male narrator visits an old
house and meets its intriguing (female) inhabitant but then cannot find the
building when he returns to look for it in the sobering light of day. (A similar narrative device is used in Oliver
Onions’s The Cigarette Case, a ghost story whose details are strangely identical
to a “real-life” incident recounted about an old house in Valletta, Malta. I
wonder whether this is a case of art imitating life, or the other way round. But I digress…) I will not give away any further plot details,
except to state that Taylor takes this premise to unexpected, genre-bending
conclusions.
M.R. James used to say that sex is distracting
in a supernatural tale. However, at the
heart of The Scratch, is a torrid infatuation between Clare, a
middle-aged mother who is more-or-less-happily married to Gerald, and Gerald’s
orphaned nephew Jack, who has just returned from Afghanistan suffering from
post-traumatic stress disorder. The story
is narrated by Clare, and her guilty musings about this sudden passion for her disturbed
lodger are as involving as the work’s supernatural elements. Elements which, one must say, are vague and,
possibly, just the result of the protagonists’ feverish imagination – a scratch
on Jack’s arm that refuses to heal, Jack’s unnatural revulsion towards his relatives’
pet cat, and his obsession with a phantom big cat which seems to be roaming the
nearby forest (although it’s never actually seen except by Jack himself). This is possibly the most original and
off-beat of the three stories but, for me, its effect was dampened by the
vagueness of its ending – literally a page-load of questions raised – and left
unanswered – by the narrator.
Despite these reservations, the collection was
right up my street, and I heartily recommend it to fans of classic ghost
stories.
Paperback, 256 pages
Published November 2nd 2017 by HarperCollins (first published 2016)
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