A mention in McSweeney's got me to find a copy of Bush Studies, a founding classic of Australian Literature, though I'd probably heard it mentioned once or twice in my life. I'm glad I followed up, because, while these stories are a form of torture, I am historically interested in fiction of this period. And I'm glad because these are strong pieces.
Poe was one of her admitted influences, and that's clear; but these aren't supernatural stories. The ominousness and approach reminds me of Stephen Crane, and I suspect Crane's realism (or that of similar writers of the period) may have played a role.
One of the best pieces, "Bush Church", has no actual plot. It's a social satire, following the arrival of a minister in the outback, to do a christening, and whatever other necessary duties are needed; the circuit preacher's rounds. Half the locals think he's a spy for the major landowners, or the taxman, and so they show up at the service with their legal documents in hand. None of them are paying attention, most of them are grabbing food from the hostess (folks help themselves to the padre's dinner) or otherwise expressing basic barbarity. It is a scathing presentation of everyone involved. And there's only one death, Polly, but we don't ever quite find out who Polly was. She died carrying water too far in the heat.
In the rest of the stories the torture is the overwhelming suspense; but in "Bush Church" it's the excruciating misbehavior of everybody. One cringes constantly, hoping that somehow a story will emerge, or that something will reward the hostess for her embarrassment.
Mostly the stories have to do with death, and the threat of assault by outsiders. For only six short stories, the body count of this collection is pretty high. (Interestingly, Baynton couldn't get it published in Australia, so it came out in Great Britain, where it provided a baseline impression of the Australian outback for a couple of generations.)
The other writer I'd compare these pieces to is Flannery O'Connor, whose acerbic, satirical tone is similar; and also her use of local dialect. The bush lingo is rather thick in this volume, which will probably require some use of Google for modern readers, especially American readers, whose Australian vocabulary is generally limited to "shrimp" and "barbie."
In this edition there's a biography of Baynton by a grandson, and it's a stitch. It starts with the tale of her mother voyaging from Belfast to Australia with her new husband, and dumping him for an officer of the Bengal Lancers on the way. This is followed by the author's birth, three upwardly mobile marriages bringing her up to Baroness by the end, with fast cars and fancy houses everywhere. Oh, and not much writing. Her fame rests on this collection of six short stories, one novel, and two more stories that were later tacked on to this collection (not very successfully, it seems). Otherwise she did some journeyman journalism, and mostly ditched it once she'd leveraged her fame into fortune. Which is an interesting enough bio, but it turns out that she made the early part up. She shaved five years off her age, and gave herself different parents, in order to land the governess job that eventually led to a coronet on her linens; so even the grandson only knew the half of it.