Hands up, I hardly ever review books - probably for the same reason I didn't last long in the local book club. I like to read what I fancy reading (which is currently War and Peace and James Herbert's Domain, an ...interesting mix). I find it hard to read something because I ought to, or someone asked me to, or whatever. The heart wants what the heart wants, eh? However, occasionally a book comes along and I think: yes, there's a lot I want to say about this!
Such a book is Tom Mead's new novella The Lamp in the Window, available to order from Absinthe Books. Again, full disclosure: I requested a review copy from Absinthe. When the magic words “M.R.James” appeared in the blurb I couldn’t resist. As anyone who’s read some of my older posts will know, I’m an absolute M.R.James fiend. This is a lifelong passion; when my siblings and I were tiny, our father used to retell the stories for us to stave off boredom. I remember I particularly loved “Wailing Well”. In addition to a great love of MRJ’s ghost stories, in the early 2000s I found myself living very close to the German setting of “The Treasure of Abbot Thomas”, and that sparked an interest in James’s foreign locations. Since then, in addition to Steinfeld, I have also visited St. Bertrand de Comminges, Viborg and Marcilly-le-Hayer. I wrote about these visits for the small press newsletter Ghosts and Scholars, and I have also spoken at several M.R.James conferences.
Over the years, I have also read a good deal of “Jamesian” fiction. It’s not surprising that there’s a lot of it about, since MRJ is considered the classic ghost story writer par excellence. I myself completed his unfinished story “The Game of Bear” for Ghosts and Scholars and I have also written a prequel to “Canon Alberic’s Scrap-book” and a sequel to “A Neighbour’s Landmark”. Some of the Jamesian fiction out there has (in my opinion) been very good, and some of it has felt like rather tepid pastiche. So when I hear of something described as “inspired by M.R.James” I am naturally keen to read it and see what I think.
The Lamp in the Window does not disappoint. There are some thoroughly chilling moments in it, particularly in the “Old Spindlejack” tale; there are some Jamesian details which will instantly recall certain stories to the mind of the M.R.James fan; and the framing device of the narrative of Spence and the four students works brilliantly.
To begin with the last of these, the structure of the novella: as Joanna Briscoe commented in an article in the Guardian some years back, “There are very few full-length ghost novels because of the difficulties of sustaining suspension of disbelief. Readers need to be in a state of tension for the unfathomable to prey on fearful minds, yet this can be maintained by the writer for a limited time without risking nervous exhaustion.” I think there is much truth in this. Some highly successful “novel length” ghost stories, such as Susan Hill’s The Woman in Black, are actually pretty short. My own Too Near The Dead is among my shorter novels. By having an overarching narrative and three disparate short stories within it, The Lamp in the Window creates at least four different opportunities for what the Podcast to the Curious calls the ”Jamesian wallop”. Each individual tale has its own tension, and its own hideous climax, before we come to the resolution of the overarching thread. I think this is an excellent way of maintaining that pleasurable dread throughout the novella.
I don’t mean to describe any of the short stories in detail (because of spoilers) but I feel that there is an understated feeling of “offness” in each of them, which gradually intrudes more and more until actual nastiness breaks cover. As M.R.James himself remarked in “Ghosts – treat them gently!”, “our ghost should make himself felt by gradual stirrings diffusing an atmosphere of uneasiness before the final flash or stab of horror,” and this absolutely occurs in The Lamp in the Window. We may also recognise some thoroughly Jamesian tropes such as the fatally curious academic, the eldritch book, the melancholy relic of a vanished child. I should say that the horror in the final short story, “Ashes”, goes beyond the bounds of what M.R.James would have done, but not to a jarring extent: the limits are elastic, rather than burst. And after all, part of the interest in reading Jamesian fiction is seeing where the author has built on it, rather than simply trying to reproduce James.
Finally, the wealth of small Jamesian details in the novella is a delight. I do not think I have ever come across Piccadilly weepers before, except in “The Tractate Middoth”. In “Old Spindlejack” our hero reaches the church he wishes to visit by taking a train and then a pony and trap, which is exactly what Somerton, the protagonist of “The Treasure of Abbot Thomas”, does – a detail which has long stuck out in my mind because a trap is really not a sensible way of getting from Koblenz to Steinfeld! The other thing that I enjoyed very much was the history of seventeenth century glazier Cornelius Van Kampen, whose masterpiece supposedly resides in the church of St. Sigrid in Ghent. The details of Van Kampen have a strong aura of authenticity, to the extent that I did look him up to see whether he existed. I was rather foxed by St. Sigrid’s church, since I know Ghent fairly well, having set a book there, and I didn’t remember any such building. Both Van Kampen and St. Sigrid’s are inventions of the author, but convincingly done, and this is in itself quintessentially Jamesian; when MRJ wrote “The Treasure of Abbot Thomas” he included quotations from the Sertum Steinfeldense Norbertinum, an entirely made-up book. So believable was this invention, that when a German priest connected to Steinfeld read the story, he wrote to M.R.James and asked him where he had seen this book, since so far as he knew, the abbey library had been destroyed!
I thoroughly recommend The Lamp in the Window; bravo, Tom Mead!
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