In his Guardian review of Best
British Short Stories 2015 last July, Nicholas Lezard suggested that editor
Nicholas Royle must have a soft spot for the "weird or uncanny,"
since it is behind some of the best stories in the collection, such as Bee
Lewis's invention about the origins of Antony Gormley's iron beach statues in
"The Iron Men" and Helen Marshall's "Secondhand Magic,"
which he said gave him the willies. Iain Robinson also noted in his
"Unpacking My Library" blog the "magical, the uncanny, and the
downright bizarre" evident in many of the stories in the 2015 volume, such
as Alison Moore's "Eastmouth," KJ Orr's "The Lakeshore
Limited," and Rebecca Swirsky's "The Common People."
Even stories that seem set in the real world of social unrest have a
pervasive tone of fairy tale in the 2015 edition of the BBSS. For example, Julianne
Pachico's story "Lucky," takes place in a third world country beset
by Communist rebels. A young girl's parents and brother go off to spend the
holidays in the mountains, but she wants to stay home, cared for by servants. Much
of the language suggests an otherworldly/fantasy reality. For example, when the
young girl hears the word guerrilla,
she pictures men dressed up in gorilla suits roaming the jungle. She reads Arthurian
fantasy novels filled with knights and queens. Angelina, the servant whose
white apron swirls about her like a cape, mysteriously disappears.
A man comes to the door wearing a shapeless brown robe, saying he is
sorry he is late, as if she should be expecting him. He calls her
"Princess" and knows that her parents are not there. He calls her mija, or "my daughter" in Spanish and tells her he is
there to help her. She spends the day in her bedroom watching Disney movies on
her laptop, such as Beauty and The Beast.
When the power goes out, she checks the generator, recalling how the gardener
would go to the back of the house and as if
by "magic," the lights would come on. The computers in the office at her house seem
like "medieval relics," the screens staring at her like grey-faced
children asking for coins at traffic lights. When the man comes back, she
stumbles to the door holding her fantasy book to her torso like a shield. Once again, he urges her to open to door,
calling her "daughter." His robe swirls around him like a cape.
The girl thinks she needs to figure this out. She doesn't know it yet,
"but there's something waiting for her. It could be a future or it could
be something else." In a daze, she opens the door and the man lets out a
sigh that could also be a groan of pain. She turns her head sharply at what
might be the flash of a white apron or the metallic shine of a machete.
"It feels like noticing the shadow of her own half-closed eyelid, something
had always been there and should have been seen at least a thousand times
before." Joyce Carol Oates uses
this narrative convention in "Where Are You Going, Where Have You
Been?" when a strangely real/yet fable-like, man shows up at her door and
carries her away
Bee Lewis's "The Iron Men" also has a realistic, "ripped
from the headlines" basis—a teacher who has been accused of sexual
misconduct or attack by one of his students.
The man is a science teacher, who thinks in terms of chemistry and
physics; for example he and his wife, he says fit together like hydrogen and
oxygen. Although he is exonerated of the charge, he says "mud
sticks," although he says he will not go into the physics of it. His wife
takes their daughter and leaves him. His life, he says changed, "decayed,
oxidised," and he slowly turns into iron, with the sea sloughing off
layers of rust and metal like skin. He is immobilized on the beach with a
hundred men who have lost their place in life. "Time passes whilst ferrous
oxide ravages our outer shells, returning us to the universe." The story
is based on Anthony Gormley's 2006 exhibition called "Another Place."
of 100 iron statues, all anchored in the sand over a stretch of Crosby beach
near Liverpool.
Jim Hinks' "Green Boots' Cave" is about a man named David
Sharp who tries to climb Everest, but makes it only as far as 450 metres below
the summit at a place called "Green Boots' Cave," so called because
the body of an Indian climber lies there, face-down in the snow, in lime-green
climbing boots. Sharp freezes to death here. He is passed by forty other
climbers ascending to the summit, including a team of filmmakers. The story ends with this identification with
the reader: "He is you
entirely. Except that, he realizes, something
about being you doesn’t feel right. Something
is haunting you. A sense that there is
something else. Something lurking behind
every thought and feeling you have. Something
going on that you will realise if you can only wake up to the fact."
Uschi Gatwarde's "The Clinic" is a short piece about a couple
who have a child that is being tested by government agencies; this sci-fi fable
takes on a fairy tale aspect when they decide to run away to the forest with
her.
Tracy Rosenberg's story "May the Bell Be Rung for
Harriet" is about a young woman sent
to a home to care for a female child whose "deceased mother was a butterfly." The child turns into a butterfly also.
Helen Marshall's "Secondhand Magic," which is about the
requirements of real magic, focuses on a boy who wants to be a magician, but is
made to disappear in his own top hat by a witch.
Such fantasy/fable stories are part of a long tradition of the British
short story. In the book I am currently
working on, which attempts to chart the historical/generic development of the
British short story from the eighteenth century to the present, I try to
identify the narrative conventions and themes that guide the development of the
form. Here are some of the stories that are most important to that tradition:
The earliest short
narrative in English literature that still remains a fairly well-known
anthology piece is Daniel Defoe's "A True Relation of the Apparition of
One Mrs. Veal" (1706). "Mrs. Veal" has been called an example of
the gothic mode that began to dominate English short fiction later on. The
piece presents the kind of ghostly apparition, which before the eighteenth
century might well have been accepted in folklore stories as an article of
belief and faith, in an era in which such willing acceptance was no longer
common.
The first single work of short fiction in English literature that
perhaps set the tone for all nineteenth-century English short fiction, is
Horace Walpole's "The Castle of Otranto" (1765). However, there are two types of gothic short
fiction in the late eighteenth century: the gothic tale best represented by
"The Castle of Otranto and the gothic fragment, the best known example of
which is "Sir Bertrand" by Anne Letitia Aiken, better known as Mrs.
Barbauld, prefaced originally by an essay entitled "On the Pleasure
Derived from Objects of Terror."
The best known example of the oral folk tale in the early
nineteenth century is Sir Walter Scott's insert tale in Redgauntlet which is often
anthologized as "Wandering Willie's Tale" (1824). Told by the blind fiddler Willie Steenson, the
story has been called "almost a textbook example of the well-told tale as
opposed to the short story." "Wandering Willie's Tale" forms an
interesting bridge between the traditional folk tale in which confrontations with
the devil are the stock in trade and the later British mystery story in which
the supposed supernatural is accounted for in a grotesque but naturalistic way.
Wilkie Collins's "The Traveller's Story of a Terribly Strange
Bed" (1856) is a particularly clear example of a supposed supernatural
mystery being explained naturalistically. This tension between reality and
unreality and between the natural and the supernatural is even more obviously
foregrounded in the best known story of Edward Bulwer Lytton, "The Haunted
and the Haunters; or, The House and the Brain" (1859),
H. P. Lovecraft
has called "The Willows" the foremost Algernon Blackwood tale. And
indeed it is a story that seems typical of Blackwood's thematic structure of
having an average man, through a "flash of terror or beauty,"
experience something beyond the sensory reality of the everyday.
Arthur Machen's most famous tale, "The Great God Pan," is a
story that H. P. Lovecraft praises for the manner of its telling. And indeed, the manner of the telling is the
central concern of this story which, like Blackwood's tale, is based on the
assumption that beneath external reality lies another realm that man intrudes upon at his peril.
Of the three great latter-day gothic writers of the nineteenth century,
Montague Rhodes James is the one most acutely self-conscious of the fictional
tradition within which he writes. An
extensively-read student of the ghost story tradition, James knew the
convention so well that he could play with it.
"Casting the Runes," James's most anthologized tale, is indeed
a typical short story for its time; its
content consists of late nineteenth-century occultism, and its structure is a
variant of the typical combination of demonism and detective work that has
characterized the genre from Bulwer-Lytton and Collins to Blackwood and
Machen.
W. W. Jacobs' "The Monkey's Paw," (1902) like James's
"Casting of the Runes," provides a helpful structural transition
between the stories of Blackwood and Machen and those of Dunsany, De Le Mare,
and Saki; for although it communicates the sense of horror of the earlier
writers, it makes use of the well-made short story structure and the ironic
tone of later ones.
The best-known stories of Lord Dunsany (Edward John Moreton Drax
Plunkett), "The Ghosts" and "The Two Bottles of Relish,"
are self-conscious parodies of the two most popular types of late nineteenth-century
British short fiction--the ghost story and the detective story
respectively. Both make explicit the
conventions and rules of their genres, which in fact constitute the very
subject matter of the stories themselves.
As is typical of such parodies, the stories depend on the conventions of
their generic models even as they lay them bare.
Walter Allen calls Walter de la Mare the most distinguished of
the writers who made the Edwardian age a "haunted period" in English
literature. Part of the reason is the
poetic "dignity" of de la Mare as opposed to what is often called the
"crude Gothicism" of his contemporaries. Lord David Cecil calls de la
Mare a symbolist for whom the outer world is only an "incarnation of an
internal drama. As opposed to other
Edwardian short-story writers, de la Mare, says Cecil, uses ghosts not as
devices to arouse shudders, but rather as symbols of the eternal world of the
spirit.
To move from the stories of Dunsany and de la Mare to those of
Saki (H. H. Munro) is to move from the world of story as a means of parodying
story and story as a means of creating a metaphor for the alternate reality of
imagination to a world in which story is presented as joke. Because Saki marks
a shift in Edwardian short fiction to the trick ending story that dominates
popular short stories both in England and America at the turn of the century,
his stories often focus on the nature of story itself.
These are only a few of the British writers who have used the short story form to explore the
fine line between fantasy and reality. Both Robert Louis Stevenson and Rudyard
Kipling wrote fantasy stories, as did A. E. Coppard and E. M Forster More recently, the fantasy tradition has been
used by Julian Barnes, A.S. Byatt, Angela Carter, Graham Swift, Ian McEwan, and
many others. Nicholas Royle's choice of many of the stories in the 2015 edition
of Best British Short Stories
reflects that the tradition is still alive in the current revival of interest
in the short story genre in Great Britain.
I've been a fan of your blog for years and am dead chuffed (to put it mildly) to see you discuss my story 'Lucky.' It's a fascinating analysis and not one that I ever considered, and it's really exciting to me how well you articulate it. Thank you so much for all of the time and effort you put into this blog (long live short stories!).
ReplyDeleteThanks for your kind words, Julikins, and thanks for your story. I only want to be the reader you need me to be.
ReplyDelete