I’m sure it’s all to do with the sense of place and period they evoke, generating settings which are almost palpable. They were mostly written early in the twentieth century before the two world wars turned European civilisation on its head, and most of them are set in rural England where moody hills, mysterious woods and the cold Saxon shore of eastern England provide fertile ground for strange happenings. There are gothic churches, modest stately homes, dusty public schools and the stuffily self-conscious halls of academe. And even the few which are set in foreign locations retain references to mediaeval mysteries and unsavoury characters (Montague Rhodes James was an eminent antiquary by profession who spent his working life ensconced in universities and schools for the gentry, and in whose knowledge of ancient texts the reader can have full confidence.)
And so I think the root of its appeal is the opportunity it provides to escape into an alternative world which is never fantastical, but yet pregnant with paranormal possibility. When I’ve finished my latest Shirley Jackson novel, therefore, I think it will be time to dust off the great MR James tome again.
Incidentally, I made brief reference to the man and his work in a previous post and quoted a line from one of his stories:
Si tu non veneris ad me, ego veniam ad te.
I trusted the reader to know that it was Latin, and to Google a translation if they were sufficiently interested. Maybe I should save current readers the trouble by giving Montague’s own translation:
If you will not come to me, I will come to you.
Think of the possibilities which that seemingly innocuous little statement opens up.
No comments:
Post a Comment