But for me, at least, that the horror is less alien in no way diminishes its power. More problematic for many readers, I suspect, might be the cumulative nature of the narrative. The horror manifests itself less in a pounding pulse than in the persistent and growing strength of the images after you lay the story down. In this sense, Hodgson brings to mind the gourmet Brillat-Savarin's distinction between eating and enjoying one's dinner. I last read Carnacki perhaps 20 years ago, but enjoyed it for years afterwards when something would evoke a vivid image from it. So when the call went out for Halloween posts, it was the first book I thought of.
But, as I said, his prose may not be to your taste. Here's a sample, from The Whistling Room. Carnacki was investigating a haunting that manifested as a whistling, and is relating to his friend what happened when he first entered the room that is the focus of the manifestation.
"When I reached the door, and put my hand into my pocket for the key, I had a sudden feeling of sickening funk. But I was not going to back out, if I could help it. I unlocked the door and turned the handle. Then I gave the door a sharp push with my foot, as Tassoc had done, and drew my revolver, though I did not expect to have any use for it, really."I shone the searchlight all round the room, and then stepped inside, with a disgustingly horrible feeling of walking slap into a waiting Danger. I stood a few seconds, waiting, and nothing happened, and the empty room showed bare from corner to corner. And then, you know, I realised that the room was full of an abominable silence; can you understand that? A sort of purposeful silence, just as sickening as any of the filthy noises the Things have power to make. Do you remember what I told you about that 'Silent Garden' business? Well, this room had just that same malevolent silence—the beastly quietness of a thing that is looking at you and not seeable itself, and thinks that it has got you. Oh, I recognised it instantly, and I whipped the top off my lantern, so as to have light over the whole room.
Article comments