Buried deep in the reaches of vast antiquity lie the ancient customs, the vicious "games", the laws of the privileged lords and his enslaved minions. Sarban's preoccupation is chiefly with the remote brooding past which, certain circumstances, refuses to die, but jealously invades the present through the life and sanity of just such a healthy young animal as the heroine of RINGSTONES.
This was a fascinating read! If you want the plain idea about Ringstones I might say that it is right in the middle between Arthur Machen and Robert Aickman. But the truth is that it's so much more than that. Mythological horror, Freudian dreams/Jungian nightmares and the collective unconscious of myths and legends, kinky eroticism. At some point it reminded me of Mythago Wood by Robert Holdstock which is another fascinating book about the descent into the myths of man. Myths that dwel (never really left) in our subconscious, our link to the prehistoric man, ready to overtake our reality given the right circumstances. The ambiguities of the text work very good (the Robert Aickman links) and add an extra dimension to the whole experience. I might say that it's one of the few times that these ambiguities work so well in a book such as this. Both endings (it's a story within a story) are very, very satisfying. Above all it's a book beautifully written and one that I highly recommend.
(The only bad thing was the fact that this edition of the book had a ton of typos and errors.)
Writing while serving in the British diplomatic service in the Middle East, Sarban displays the virtues and, to some extent, the perils inherent in writing for pleasure, rather than to make a living. Unlike so many talented writers who squander their talent by grinding out regular product to suit the needs of commerce, Sarban wrote very little, and he plainly wrote to please himself, not an agent.
This disturbing book owes something to Arthur Machen, but it is strikingly original even by the standards of today, let alone 1951, when it first saw publication. Its remarkable atmosphere has little to do with the standard devices of weird fiction: there is no overt horror, there are no monsters, but rather an eerie blend of dream-like dread and sheer strangeness. One of the few "serious" works of weird fiction prior to the modern era to incorporate an element of sado-masochism, it not only does so without prurience, it is somehow made to serve the development of mood, with a delicacy––even elegance––that probably could not be duplicated today.
As I said, there are some pitfalls to being a brilliant amateur. Sarban includes great, ill-digested lumps of erudition to advance his ideas; the polished professional would know how to present expository matter without overwhelming the reader, or giving an impression of didacticism. The pro might also handle with greater finesse (or perhaps discard altogether) the somewhat cumbersome framing story, and its excessively clever banter. Sarban inherited this format from the Victorian and Edwardian horror writers, and it creaks, making a particularly odd contrast with the freshness and modernity at the core of the book. These are small defects, although I have to admit they cost him a star.
Short, subtle and effective. The story within a story concerns a young college student's summer job as governess to three young children at a remote estate on the moors of Northumberland. Sarban gives much description to the landscape and a rich and potent atmosphere permeates the proceedings, which slowly turn from pleasant to disquieting. The slow build and all that is hinted at make this a quick and enjoyably weird tale that left a strong impression. Once again, mid-century horror fiction nails it - 1951.
I am surprised at other reviews of this book...only creepy mythological, weird? Sarban's fantasy tale leans toward pornography, but he perhaps got away with so much kinkiness because he was writing in a more innocent time. Perhaps that is why he used a nom de plume?
The descriptions of the countryside and Ringstones itself are captivating. They marvelously contrast the seductive hints of the story, and the Twilight Zone-like attempt of Daphne to leave the property to walk to town.
Something like a Gothic Fairy novel? Thought I was in for a horror novel but it's about as scary as Disney's Peter Pan. Learned a bit about English folklore, I suppose. And there's an abundant love of the English landscape and menhirs. But it's more drowsy than frightening.
I absolutely enjoyed this book, I read it in a day. On each page I imagined I knew where it was going, but to my delight, I didn't. It's a well considered and really very cleverly controlled book, but better than all of that the book is beautifully written.
I have no idea how to explain this oddity. Uni student gets a summer job tutoring some foreign kids in a remote part of Northumberland. Something about possible time travel. Or was it all a dream. Shrugs shoulders.
Enchanting atmospheric little novel with evocative and stylistically nostalgic elements in its narrative that also embraces modern tastes without jumping off the cliff of traditionalism.
Another gem from manybooks.net. I hadn't run into the author Sarban before but the cover looked interesting. Nicely atmospheric horror story.....or is it? Very well done.