3.5
For a book that's often lumped in with Walpole’s horror output, there are actually very few horror stories here. Most are in fact very gentle, pleasing, beautifully written character pieces - best read on a hot summer’s day, sheltered beneath a tree. Originally published in 1933, the collection is made up of sixteen short stories; none of which I would say are bad. On the negative side however is the fact that they are mostly very slight; pleasing when being read, but thin on plot and event and sadly, for me, soon forgotten. In my own little marking system, I have never given so many stories in one collection a score of five or six out of ten – meaning that I found them fine, but just short of the mark where I can say that I enjoyed them enough to recommend.
Here are the five stories that I gave more than six marks to (in order of appearance):-
‘A Carnation for an Old Man.’ An ailing brother and his two sisters stay in Seville for a few days. He finds peace and comfort there from a painting in a church of the long dead Santa Emilia – with whom he has a dialogue. I’m not a religious person, but this is so beautifully written and warm, that I went along with it. It’s a story in which little happens, and yet so much happens. I’m a sucker for anything to do with Spain, so the setting, together with the storytelling makes this my favourite story in the collection.
‘Mr Oddy.’ A young man who doesn’t feel a part of the modern world becomes friendly with an old man. I empathise with the man feeling out of time. This is another warm and finely written tale. Not sure about the end!
‘Mrs Lunt.’ A writer asks a critic to come with him to a haunted house. One of the few actual horror stories here. The characters are interesting, even if the story is nothing new.
‘The Snow.’ A woman is haunted by her husband’s dead first wife. Enjoyably atmospheric. Like ‘Mrs Lunt,’ this is one of Walpole’s much anthologised horror stories.
‘Spanish Dusk.’ A father and son travel to Spain and the son falls for a Spanish beauty – but she’s married! This is my second favourite story in the collection. It’s a moving and atmospheric piece, which, along with the rest of the book, is finely and beautifully written. Only the odd ending, for me, jars. Was there really a need for a twist-in-the-tale ending? One quote, from this 1933 story, had me smiling. The father goes into his son’s bedroom to bid him goodnight and decides to give a little observational pearl that not many fathers of the time might have given. The son tells us:-
He spoke of Spanish ladies, how different from anything that we could imagine in England, how gay and pleasant their lives before marriage, watched and guarded of course, but designed only that they should be courted and flattered, every young man serving them, worshipping them, adoring them. Then, from the moment of marriage, imprisonment, the husband their gaoler, never free, never alone, their only duty to obey their husband and bear children, the Priest over all.
So many of the stories in ‘All Souls’ Night’ are pleasant reads. I shall keep my attractively tactile 1937 MacMillan edition and with a re-reading in a few years’ time wouldn’t be surprised if I find myself amending the word pleasant to enjoyable - it’s a close thing with this collection.