The Bell Witch by John F. D. Taff is supposed to be a supernatural horror story, I guess?
Spoilers aboud below. Read at your own risk.
This one was a huge letdown for me. I loved the movie An American Haunting, so I was excited to consume another account of the Bell Witch story. I don’t like giving negative reviews, but there’s very little to like about this book. From the one-dimensional characters to the botched sexual assault scenes to the racism to the comically bad witch, there really is nothing redeeming here.
I’ll start with my more minor grievances. The book bears very little resemblance to the actual story of the Bell Witch. Artistic license has its place, but in my opinion, if an author uses a historical haunting as the basis of their story, the result should have more than a passing resemblance to the original. Taff also seems to be missing some key understandings about what Victorian life was like. For example, pregnancy was generally spoken about in a euphemistic way, even when it happened to happily married people. For the characters to be speaking so freely about the possible pregnancy of a minor daughter and with only mild distress seems unlikely. Same thing with rape.
The characters fall flat. Betsy in particular is little more than a ghost for most of the story, which is funny given how the characters remark about how much of a presence she is after the witch first starts tormenting her. She just smiles sweetly and says uplifting things? Her character development for the first two thirds of the book is just the author telling us that she’s changed, that she’s so different now. She does gain some agency toward the end of the book, but that’s undermined by her not being heard from after her hasty marriage. The other characters are similarly one-note, wholly good or bad, with Lucy being the only one with some moral ambiguity.
There’s no real protagonist. The book just kind of hops around at random from character to character. Given the author’s intention with the witch, the tale really ought to have been centered around Betsy, but she gets far less page time than, for example, her father and her brother John. The witch is literally a manifestation Betsy’s anger over her rape, and yet Betsy herself is hardly part of the story at times.
The writing itself is not great and relies heavily on telling rather than showing. A great example of this is Betsy’s relationship with her schoolteacher, Richard Powell, who she eventually marries. Although Powell has been the Bell children’s teacher for some time, our first “interaction” between Betsy and Powell occurs on page 60. Powell goes up to see unconscious Betsy, listens to her heartbeat through the doctor’s stethoscope, and falls in love with her. Instead of showing the two interacting playfully before Betsy falls unconscious or having Powell come over every day to check on her condition, fretting and pacing and losing sleep, the author just straight up tells us Powell is in love. As he has to, since Powell’s actions certainly don’t show this.
In Part II, the witch gains a voice, and that’s when things really get weird. The interactions between the characters and the witch are absurd. The witch is not at all scary. I mean, she cries a diamond at one point because Betsy’s engagement ring isn’t big enough and showers people with fruits and berries. I think the author intended for some of her antics to be humorous, but I don’t find her funny either. I mostly just felt secondhand embarrassment, like I know he’s trying, but it’s just not working. And that’s the problem. This is supposed to be a horror story, and yet the only thing scary about it is that two different publishers chose to publish it.
But it’s the way Taff repeatedly mishandles sexual assault that really earns this book a low rating from me. Let’s start with that weird scene with Betsy and Joshua at the church picnic. Joshua pulls Betsy into the woods and starts undressing her, while Betsy is basically mentally checked out. Taff goes into gratuitous descriptions about how beautiful Betsy’s naked body is, and it’s straight up gross. Sexual assault should not be eroticised. Why are we in Joshua’s head for this? Why are we objectifying Betsy in this way? It was such a dirty and disturbing scene to read, watching Joshua undress her, study her naked body, muse on how beautiful her nudity is, while Betsy herself is not really there. She might as well be unconscious. It’s very creepy and disturbing, and not in a good way.
And then over on page 221, Joshua rapes Betsy. The framing is terrible. Rape is NOT sexy. Why is the author still talking about how hot she looks when Joshua rips off her clothes. Also, why? Why have Joshua rape Betsy? It adds nothing to the story. There are all kinds of ways the witch could have opened Betsy’s eyes to her childhood abuse without having her assaulted again. Joshua basically disappears from the story after this. There is no retribution for what he has done, no atonement. Betsy doesn’t even grapple with the aftermath. Joshua just rapes her so she can revisit these old memories. Lots of assault survivors have things that trigger their memories of the assault. It wasn’t entirely clear to me if the mud cave was a place where her father raped her, but if it was, simply being in the cave again could have triggered her repressed memories. There are all kinds of means the witch could have used to get Betsy to the cave. She could have carried Betsy there if needed, because that’s a thing the witch can do. But having Joshua rape Betsy seems cruel and unnecessary.
There’s also this baffling passage. On p. 229, the witch is talking about Betsy’s rape, and the author writes, “Denied her [Betsy’s] rightful vengeance at the act [rape] done to her by that man [her father]? Denied her own culpability in the act, brought about by that denial?” Betsy has no culpability in her rape. Rape survivors can keep their rape a secret if they wish. That doesn’t make them complicit in their assault.
Anky’s rape isn’t handled as badly as Betsy’s assaults, but it seems unnecessary. What does it add to the story? We already are well aware that Jack is a rapist. And in terms of character perspectives, we go from Jack to Anky’s husband, Sam, without ever seeing Anky’s perspective. What about her experiences? Jack literally did this to her. But she’s basically there as a prop to fuel Sam’s anger. In fact, most of the women in the story have little more of a role than scenery. We occasionally see things through Lucy or Betsy, but despite the fact that this story is supposed to revolve around Betsy, the men are the focus. The only woman who actually does anything is the witch. Also, I find it gross that the witch basically suggests that if only Betsy, a fifteen-year-old child, mind you, had a good man to watch over her, the witch would not be necessary. Male protectors are not the solution to rape, as this book plainly shows. Betsy’s first rapist was her own father. Having Sam didn’t stop Anky’s rape either, and having a supportive partner won’t magic away the pain of rape. Anky will probably still feel the same litany of emotions over her assault that Betsy did. And again, why more rape? Is that the only thing the author could think to do to keep upping his page count?
Also, Jack’s death, while it may come as a relief to Betsy, will not heal her completely. That’s not how trauma works. She will be living with the aftermath of her repeated assaults for a very long time. So this whole bit about how Betsy is supposed to be healed immediately in the wake of Jack’s death shows just how little the author knows about trauma. Apparently he could not be bothered to make sure he had his facts straight. If you want to write a story about something you don’t fully understand, you have to research it until you do understand it. Otherwise, you’ll be doing a great disservice to the story and your audience.
I also did not think the author handled the ending well. The last bit of the book is basically a treatise on the importance of forgiveness. For some survivors, forgiving their abuser is a key piece of their journey, but I don’t think it’s right or fair to paint it as the morally superior choice. Some acts deserve no forgiveness. For me, raping children falls into that category. Also, Jack never apologized to Betsy for what he had done. He never showed any real remorse. Yes, he begs and pleads for God’s forgiveness at times, but it seems more done out of a desire for the witch’s torment to end than anything else. Even while in the midst of the witch’s torment, he rapes Anky, thus showing that he doesn’t really see anything wrong with raping people. Why is it so important for all of the characters to forgive such a despicable person?
There are pieces of a decent story scattered amongst the wreckage. For example, we catch a glimpse of what could have been in that interaction between Betsy and Powell when he comes to court her. There is good in that scene, Betsy taking back her agency, Powell agreeing to support her as she recovers from the trauma of rape. But it’s not enough. It doesn’t forgive the author’s mishandling of assault elsewhere in the story. The concept for this story is good, but the execution is poor and Taff constantly undermines the message he seems to want to send. He also undermines some of Betsy’s agency by having Powell ask John for Betsy’s hand against her wishes. If Powell really respected Betsy, he would have listened to her. It just shows that even he doesn’t fully respect her agency.
I know sensitivity readers were not as much of a thing when Taff first published this as they are now, but the internet existed. If I’m writing a scene that involves heavy and potentially hurtful subject matter, such as sexual assault, I take some time to refresh myself on how to write the scene in a way that does the victim/survivor justice. Also, the republished edition which I read is from 2017. Taff notes in his afterword that it went through heavy edits between the first and second printings. That would also have been a great time to bring a sensitivity reader on board.
Based on the afterword, it seems pretty clear that Taff didn’t really think about the implications of his story. He just sees it as a ghost story. But if you choose to use one of the most painful human experiences to fuel that narrative, it’s not just a ghost story. He did the story and his readers a tremendous disservice by not bothering to do his research on what assault is actually like.
There’s also a good amount of racism. The n-word gets bandied around a lot. I know it’s intended as a nod to the time period, but given that the author gets so much wrong about early nineteenth century life, it’s not like authenticity matters here. There are plenty of ways to convey the time period to readers without including racial slurs. Also, that bit about Adam missing John Bell’s father really rubbed me the wrong way. Sure, slaves would have had a range of emotions regarding the plantation owners, but plantation owners treated slaves as literal property. A “kind” master still thought it was all well and good to enslave other people. I’ve heard this idea before that slaves didn’t really have it so bad and didn’t mind being enslaved, and it’s just rubbish. Why feed into that awful narrative? On p. 311, Taff writes, “Still, he [John, the son who takes over after Jack’s death] was fair to his slaves and worked just as long and as hard as any of them.” As if that justifies owning human beings. It doesn’t. Slavery is inexcusable, and anyone who treats another person as their property is doing something abominable. This is another place where a sensitivity reader could have been handy.
So yeah, I do not recommend this book. I regret buying it and would not have done so had I realized what it would be like.
cw: rape, sexual assault, racism, use of the n-word, physical abuse, emesis, death of an animal, death of a cat, death, murder?, pregnancy, childbirth