Laura’s Favourite Book #8: The Woman in Black

Something emanating from her still, silent presence, in each case by a grave, had communicated itself to me so strongly that I had felt indescribable repulsion and fear. – Susan Hill, The Woman in Black

Why The Woman in Black?

My first exposure to The Woman in Black was GCSE Drama many years ago. We studied it in class and then saw the West End version, which, by the way, was not only a feat of both technical design and acting, but was also bloody terrifying. As in, fifteen-year-old girls being taken outside because they had the vapours.

I think I saw the film, which is fine, and then…

Then I read the book.

And to this day, I still make the mistake of reading it at nighttime while listening to the film soundtrack.

Story

Although it’s actually a relatively modern book, Hill pulls out all the Gothic tropes, imbuing the story with the trappings of The Turn of the Screw and the likes of M. R. James.

And it works, because we know what we’re going to get once the framing device of the older, haunted man introduces the story: Arthur Kipps, the naïve junior solicitor, who stumbles into a supernatural situation neither he, nor we, could possibly comprehend.

Except, it isn’t quite that simple, because everyone in the village of Crythin Gifford is clearly terrorised by something, and Arthur loses his naivety impressively quickly, so the ambiguity of classic ghost stories just…

Slips away.

Leaving us to face the unveiled horror of a vengeful, vindictive ghost.

Not only that, but the big twist (I’d argue) is clearly influenced by modern horror films – the terror appears to be over…

Except it isn’t.

Character

Poor Arthur: he’s so normal. He’s engaged to be married, he’s got ambitions as a lawyer, he’s definitely a bit put out by having to schlep all the way up North to sort out some old lady’s estate. He’s so sympathetically written that we dread everything he has to go through – and thanks to the framing device, we know from the start that he is not escaping his encounter with the Woman in Black unscathed. His father-son relationship with Samuel Daly is also surprisingly touching, as is the inclusion of Spider, the best girl (how soggy that poor doggo must’ve been after her dunk in the causeway).

But I have to mention the eponymous Woman in Black, Jennet Humphrye. What’s so horrible is that her feelings, at some point, were absolutely understandable: it was unfair that she’d had to give up her child, it was unfair that she’d then lost him again, it was unfair that she died young of a broken heart. But the pain she insists on inflicting on other people is unjustifiable and made even worse by the fact that she knows how it feels to lose a child. She exists simply to destroy and there’s no negotiating with her. Terrifying.

Setting

Whenever I need to punch up my atmospheric writing, I re-read The Woman in Black, not just because I can do so in an hour and a half. London is smoky and murky and at first, you think, great. We’re escaping the urban fug and fog for somewhere with fresh air. Except as Arthur’s train journey progresses, the world becomes flat and desolate and grey, which is ominous enough.

And as for Eel Marsh House – the fact that it’s only accessible by causeway is a stroke of genius. Not only does it offer a good reason for the late Mrs Drablow’s isolation, it’s also a great narrative device, both in terms of trapping Arthur on the island and, of course, Jennet’s tragic backstory. Both the natural and the supernatural work to ensnare Arthur, which makes the book even more claustrophobic.

Coldharbour: Still Haunted

Hauntings are still important in the world of Coldharbour, no matter the more or less happy ending of Book I, so here’s a snippet from Alex’s nightmare that opens Book II:

Every now and then …

In the depths of the darkness, in the dead of night …

She can hear the whisper on the phantom wind:

Come home.

And she does.

She runs home as the shallows wash the shingle, the mist settles on the marshes, the clouds choke the moon—

And there!

The ruins of a house, stark and skeletal and strange.

She climbs barefoot through bracken that slices her ankles. Her father is at the well, those brilliant blue eyes shining through the black. He reaches out for her and she reaches back, ready to be welcomed like she’s wanted her whole life—

Too late.

He’s already changed.

Coldharbour II: The Dead Land comes out on Halloween. Read the first in the series, Coldharbour: A Gothic Tale of Love and Death, now.