16. The Woman in Black

By Susan Hill

While in Vancouver, we once again visited Tanglewood Books looking for YA fiction for our 12 yo.  I found a trade paperback of The Woman in Black.  Even though I've been aware of Susan Hill's 1983 ghost story for some time (thanks to at least two film adaptations, neither of which I saw), it was Monster, She Wrote that got me to put The Woman in Black in my book list.

I was later surprised to see my daughter had started reading the novella.  When she finished it, she thought it was "all right" (her default answer for most things), though she mostly found it kind of boring.

Now here I am with a short review of The Woman In Black.  I knew I'd appreciate it somewhat more than my Gen Z kid.  Even though it was rather tame in some regards, I found it effectively chilling in a low-key way.  A lot of it had to do with Hill's writing.  It's written in a classic, straightforward manner yet manages to evoke a clear sense of setting and mood, and the narrative is framed from the POV of solicitor Arthur Kripps.  It begins with a middle-aged Kripps spending a Christmas evening with his second wife and two stepchildren.  He's asked to tell a ghost story, but he's unable to because of the traumatic experience he had as a young solicitor in London when he was sent off to a remote region to take care of the affairs of a recently deceased widow at Eel Marsh House.

We follow Kripps on his journey northeast from London to the village of Crythin Gifford. There he meets a local contact and he attends the funeral of Mrs Dablow, the reclusive elderly woman who resided at Eel Marsh House all her life.  It's at the funeral where Kripps first sees a pale, mysterious woman dressed all in black from a distance.  The next day, a local coachman takes Kripps to Eel Marsh House, which is situated on a tidal island and is only accessible via a causeway when the tide is low.  This means that when the tide is high, you're effectively cut off from the mainland and the causeway is only passable twice a day.

...As we drew nearer, I saw that the water was lying only shallowly over the rippling sand on either side of us, and that the line was in fact a narrow track leading directly ahead, as if into the estuary itself. As we slipped onto it, I realized that this must be the Nine Lives Causeway – this and nothing more – and saw how, when the tide came in, it would quickly be quite submerged and untraceable. 

     At first the pony and then the trap met the sandy path, the smart noise we had been making ceased, and we went on almost in silence save for a hissing, silky sort of sound. Here and there were clumps of reeds, bleached bone-pale, and now and again the faintest of winds caused them to rattle dryly. The sun at our backs reflected in the water all around so that everything shone and glistened like the surface of a mirror, and the sky had taken on a faint pinkish tinge at the edges, and this in turn became reflected in the marsh and the water. Then, as it was so bright that it hurt my eyes to go on staring at it, I looked up ahead and saw, as if rising out of the water itself, a tall, gaunt house of grey stone with a slate roof, that now gleamed steelily in the light. It stood like some lighthouse, or beacon or martello tower, facing the whole, wide expanse of marsh and estuary, the most astonishingly situated house I had ever seen or could ever conceivably have imagined, isolated, uncompromising but also, I thought, handsome. As we neared it, I saw the land on which it stood was raised up a little, surrounding it on every side for perhaps three or four hundred yards, of plain, saltbleached grass, and then gravel. This little island extended in a southerly direction across an area of scrub and field towards what looked like the fragmentary ruins of some old church or chapel. 

     There was a rough scraping, as the cart came onto the stones, and then pulled up. We had arrived at Eel Marsh House. 

The village of Crythin Gifford was effectively cursed, but everyone is too frightened to voice it aloud, or unable to warn Arthur because it's something that defies reason and logic.  Arthur Kripps has no choice but to do his job and so he gets himself involved in the local lore after seeing odd sightings of a woman in a black old-fashioned dress.  I feel the old-fashioned ghost story is vastly under-rated and very hard to do well because so much of it hinges on the quality of the writing.  I felt I was inhabiting Arthur's character more than just empathizing with what he's experiencing while he's stuck inside Eel Marsh House seeing strange occurrences he can't explain.

...Last night I had been adamant and would have brooked no possible opposition – I was having nothing more to do with Eel Marsh and the Drablow business but would telegraph to Mr Bentley, leave matters - in the hands of Mr Jerome and take the first available train to London. In short, I was going to run away. Yes, that was how I saw it in the bright light of day. I attached no particular blame to my decision. I had been as badly frightened as a man could be. I did not think that I would be the first to run from physical risks and dangers, although I had no reason to suppose myself markedly braver than the next person. But these other matters were altogether more terrifying, because they were intangible and inexplicable, incapable of proof and yet so deeply affecting. I began to realize that what had frightened me most – and, as I investigated my own thoughts and feelings that morning, what continued to frighten me – was not what I had seen –there had been nothing intrinsically repellent or horrifying about the woman with the wasted face. It was true that the ghastly sounds I had heard through the fog had greatly upset me but far worse was what emanated from and surrounded these things and arose to unsteady me, an atmosphere, a force – I do not exactly know what to call it – of evil and uncleanness, of terror and suffering, of malevolence and bitter anger. I felt quite at a loss to cope with any of these things. 

I can now see how my 12 yo would've found this book rather boring.  Maybe she'll appreciate it when I make her read it when she's fully grown!

I also thought Hammer Films did a really nice job adapting the novel into a 2012 film when I finally watched in some months later.

3. The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein

By Kiersten White

A few Goodread reviews mentioned how it was recommended to have some knowledge of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein as The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein (2018) has many nods to the original source material. Here's one review: 

“The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein is, essentially, a retelling of Frankenstein from the perspective of Elizabeth - an orphan taken in by the Frankenstein family and later the fiancée of Victor. I think this book will work much better for those familiar with the original as it gives a lot of nods to the story. It's hard to appreciate some of the clever twists the author takes without knowing what it's based on.

 

Through her eyes, the tortured genius of Victor becomes a sometimes frightening thing, and yet nothing is as terrifying as being a woman in 18th Century Europe. The stifling constraints placed on women and their ambitions are palpable as the story unfolds. It was so easy for a woman to be dismissed as whiny or silly, or worse-- mad.

When Victor goes missing in Ingolstadt and writes no letters, Elizabeth begins to track him down. Her investigation leads her down dark paths to charnel houses and secret laboratories. What has Victor been up to? Knowing the truth didn't take anything away from reading. In fact, it made those mysterious dark shadows all the creepier.

This story largely fills in gaps in the original tale, while shedding a completely new light on it. It's smart how Kiersten White has managed to keep a lot the same, while also creating a bigger and very different-looking picture.

The original Frankenstein calls into question what it really means to be a monster and, indeed, who the real monsters are. I think White might have answered that question.”

 

I had read Shelley’s Frankenstein when I was in my late teens/early twenties, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to revisit the classic 1818 novel, so like the lazy, yet resourcefully efficient, reader that I am, I borrowed the graphic novel version to quicky refresh my memory instead! 

 

According to Wikipedia, Elizabeth Lavenza and Victor Frankenstein were first cousins in the original edition.  In the revised third edition (1831), Elizabeth was a non-relation adopted by the Frankenstein family.  According to the graphic novel, Elizabeth was portrayed as a saint, a self-sacrificing two-dimensional young woman who was loved by the Frankenstein family.  In The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein, she is naturally given much more depth as the Frankenstein narrative is retold entirely from her perspective, and there is a LOT more going on behind her innocent façade.  In fact, she’s a calculating survivor who’s determined to marry Victor, not because of love, but because it was her best option as an orphaned young woman in the 19^th century.

 

I’m going to rely on another Goodreads review to summarize how I felt, as it really does save me a lot of time, and time is precious right now!

“I do not think I expected one of the best books I read this year to be a retelling of Frankenstein where it’s not just about the nature of monstrousness, but about the power of women working together and escaping an abusive relationship, with intoxicating writing and a morally grey lady as the protagonist.

 

I absolutely loved the way Kiersten White wrote the abusive relationship at the heart of this - we see the fucked-up nature of that relationship long before Elizabeth does, but it never feels as if Elizabeth “should’ve known better.” In every moment, she has full audience sympathy - in every moment, even if I hated her actions, I understood her. The narrative puts you so far into her mind that it is impossible to look away and it is glorious.

I think the focus on agency within a narrative should be clear, but I really do want to say - this is why retellings are my favorite. Taking a book that is about the essential nature of humanity from the perspective of a man and flipping its themes solidly is something I will always be in full support of - the meta-textuality of the narrative is absolutely brilliant. And it’s not just about one woman - it’s about the relationships between women and the strength found in them. Mary, Justine, and Elizabeth form such fantastic relationships, and each feels so fully-formed in a way they may not have in the original narrative.”

I will add that, although there were plenty of hints revealing what a narcissistic psychopath Victor was, the twist did take me a little by surprise, and I loved that.  I think part of it was due to re-reading the graphic novel that was based on the original novel.  I kept expecting Frankenstein the monster to kill Elizabeth, and I kept thinking that the monster was also responsible for the deaths of Victor’s little brother William and of the servant Justine, but that was not the case at all.   I think if I hadn't read the graphic novel, I might've clued in sooner, but that's fine, I think I preferred being taken by surprise.

 

Kiersten White did an excellent job setting up the plot twist, and not only that, the denouement was really quite exciting and satisfying.  Mary, the daughter of the book shop owner in Ingolstadt, also has a pivotal role in the denouement, and I’m sure her name is a nod to Shelly.  To be sure, The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein was one of my favourite reads of the year so far.  Highly recommended!

 

p.s. This is yet another winner/recommendation from Monster, She Wrote ! 

14. Crusoe’s Daughter

By Jane Gardam 

Crusoe’s Daughter (1985) been on my list for some time with this short description:  Book-loving girl lives with 2 isolated maiden aunts by Irish Sea; off-beat female British writer.

This is obvs in my wheelhouse, so imagine my delight when I found a used copy somewhere for 8 bucks (can’t remember where exactly).

In 1904, six year-old Polly Flint goes to live with her two spinster aunts in their house by the sea, near a village so isolated that she “might have been marooned on an island”.  And there she stays for eighty-one years while the century raged around her.

This was my first book by Jane Gardam, apparently a well-loved but less well-known author compared to her contemporaries (like Maeve Binchy maybe).  I wonder if it’s because Gardam didn’t start writing fiction until well into her forties, though she had a career in journalism and the book industry.  Crusoe’s Daughter is one of Gardam’s earlier works of adult fiction (she began writing books for children) and according to her, is her personal favourite among all the books she has written.

Crusoe’s Daughter was simply a lovely and lovingly written book; the kind of book that you can curl up to under a wool blanket with a hot mug of tea.  There were some really nice reviews on Goodreads that pretty much encapsulated how I felt, so will just paraphrase them here (and save myself some time!):

   Northern England, 1904, and young Polly Flint is brought to stay and to be raised by her two very Christian aunts. Books are her solace and Robinson Crusoe her favorite. Throughout the years she would turn again and again to this book, so identifying with him and his situation.
   She would very seldom leave the island again, due to circumstances, tragedies and obligation. She would compare the plight of being a woman as being stuck and imprisoned, like her hero Robinson Crusoe.
   Although she would seldom leave, history would be brought to her, World War I and II, would both change her life in various ways.
Although this is an early Gardam, her wonderful writing ability, which would only get stronger in subsequent books, is already apparent. Beautiful descriptions, especially of the marsh, humorous passages, quirky characters and a story that covers over six decades in very few pages.
   A profound and entertaining look at a young woman's survival, her fight to find a life for herself within the limitations and tragedies inherent in her situation. Enjoyed this very much. Made me want to re-read Robinson Crusoe.

 --------------

It's hard to write a review for a book I loved so much because I want to gush over it. I have read a couple of other Jane Gardam books and loved them, but this one really resonated with me on a very personal level. In short, Polly Flint read "Robinson Crusoe" as a child and used him as a guide for her life. She was marooned with two very religious maiden aunts in a house by the sea, but created a landscape for herself from the fiction she read. It's a book about how fiction can save us, and how we can also get lost in it if we're not careful. Like Crusoe, she finds her Friday who helps to save her from an island of her own making. Eighty years in the life of a woman who uses a book written in the eighteenth century to navigate her life in the twentieth. Wonderful!