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Post by dem bones on Oct 18, 2013 5:27:17 GMT
Fielden Hughes - "Dear Ghost...": August 1921. Our narrator, a young schoolteacher, takes his holiday in a sleepy East Anglian village, hoping the lack of anything to do will allow him to complete his next novel. He boards with elderly widow Mrs. Wane, and her best friend, Miss Janisson, a jolly spinster in her early 'fifties. These three get along famously, and the working holiday is a huge success until the young man grows uncomfortably aware of a fourth, unseen, presence in the house. He learns of the tragedy from Miss Janisson. After the war, Sidney Wane found it impossible to readjust to civilian life and grew increasingly depressed until, two years ago, he hung himself in the kitchen.
It transpires that Mr. Wane cannot rest in his grave until he's pleaded his wife's forgiveness, and in the young teacher, he's found the instrument to do so.
George Mackay Brown - Andrina: Winter on the (fictional) Orkney Island of Selskay, and old Captain Jack Torvard, stricken with fever, is waiting the arrival of his mysterious young home help, Andrina. Andrina helped him home from the pub one afternoon when he'd had too much to drink, and she's called in every day since, fussing over him and listening avidly to his improbable yarns. Now, when he needs her most, his beautiful girl is not to be seen. On her most recent visit, Torvard confided his life's regret, how, as a youth, he abandoned his first love when she fell pregnant, and took to the sea. He stayed away for fifty years rather than face her.
When he's sufficiently recovered from his illness, the Captain goes to the village to draw his pension. Neither the postmistress nor his pals in the pub have heard of any Andrina, and take him for delusional. He arrives home to find a letter from the woman he's not seen in half a century ...
Two very decent, politely grim stories, but agree with CB; this collection would definitely benefit from a pulp injection.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2014 1:29:10 GMT
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Post by Johnlprobert on Jun 11, 2014 9:26:37 GMT
What odd spammers we get on this site. Presumably once we've got the new kitchen we so desperately need (but not off Vaughn whatsisname) we can have a big party where we all have to wear wigs?
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Post by Craig Herbertson on Jun 11, 2014 10:22:12 GMT
What odd spammers we get on this site. Presumably once we've got the new kitchen we so desperately need (but not off Vaughn whatsisname) we can have a big party where we all have to wear wigs? I don't why but this seems a minor improvement on the amusement front and makes me curious about the next level of entertainment offered by our friendly suppliers
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Post by ramseycampbell on Jun 12, 2014 20:17:33 GMT
To join a formal party, except shiny dress and exquisite makeup, hair style can be also important. If you have little time to go to hair salon to have your own hair fixed, then the hair wigs will help a lot . There are various types of such hair products such as stylish short hair and long blonde hair wigs in the market for people to choose. Did you folk supply Norman Bates with his accoutrements?
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Post by Shrink Proof on Jun 13, 2014 14:29:56 GMT
Did you folk supply Norman Bates with his accoutrements? Perhaps they'd like to drop in on Norman for a private fitting....
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Post by michaelscollins on Nov 15, 2016 14:46:39 GMT
Dad was reading this on our family holiday in France in...1995-ish. He pointed out a few stories he thought were child-suitable (The Inexperienced Ghost, The Moonlit Road) but told me to, on no account, read The Room in the Tower.
Guess what I went right away to read.
Swiftly after, it became known as the book with THAT story in it! However, as an adult, I can appreciate it's position as one of the great horror stories. Creepy as hell, but builds nicely and with the quality of a dream to the reveal of the painting. Wonderful stuff.
Elsewhere, The Tower (Laski) was an enjoyable read aged 9 and then again aged 30. It's written by a devout atheist too, from what I hear, which must add some subtext or other to the thing. A woman feared of heights counting the steps up to the top of an Italian tower and back down again is such a simple premise, you'd think someone would have come up with before Laski. I've always found AJ Alan's Adventure in Norfolk hilarious, Muriel Spark's ghosts are always worth the price of admission, and The Axe is a great piece of satire about modern (modern even now) business which takes a nasty turn towards the end. Singlebury reminds me rather of Peter Cook's "interesting facts" fellow.
It's a collection which has (possibly) Le Fanu's finest ghost story, and of course: One Who Saw!
Dad gave me his copy of the book, and it's still on our living room bookcase. Certainly one of the better anthologies I've got a copy of somewhere.
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