The Australian novelist and playwright Helen de Guerry Simpson (1897-1940) published many supernatural short stories. This new edition selects the best of her unsettling writing, adding some little-known stories to her 1925 collection The Baseless Fabric.
Featured stories include: '
An Experiment of the Dead', in which a visitor comes to visit a woman in the condemned cell.
'Good Company', in which a traveller in Italy becomes temporarily possessed of a hitchhiker in her mind.
'Grey Sand and White Sand' is the horrifying story of a landscape artist who sees and paints a different view.
'The Outcast', in which a soldier left for dead in the War takes his revenge on his village.
'The Rite', in which a discontented woman enters a wood, and emerges transformed.
Helen de Guerry Simpson was born in Sydney, New South Wales, and studied at Oxford. Her novel Boomerang won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize for 1932. She died from cancer in 1940. Her close friend, the novelist Margaret Kennedy, took charge of Simpson's daughter Clemence during the war while Simpson was in her last illness. Clemence and Simpson both feature in Kennedy's wartime memoir, Where Stands A Winged Sentry, also published by Handheld Press. The Introduction is by Melissa Edmundson, the leading scholar of women's Weird fiction and supernatural writing from the early 20th century.
Helen Simpson was an Australian-born writer, who lived in England from the age of 16. She studied music at Oxford, before becoming a novelist, a writer of historical biography, a radio broadcaster and a politician.
She joined the 1931 Detection Club, and wrote a chapter for Ask a Policeman 1933.
Works:
Novels:
Acquittal (1925) The Baseless Fabric (1925) Cups, Wands and Swords (1927) Mumbudget (1928) The Desolate House (1929) Enter Sir John (1929)(with Clemence Dane)-filmed as Murder! (1930) by Alfred Hitchcock Printer's Devil (1930)(with Clemence Dane) Vantage Striker (1931) Boomerang (1932), winner of the James Tait Black Memorial Prize Re-enter Sir John (1932)(with Clemence Dane) The Woman on the Beast (1933) The Spanish Marriage (1933)(with Clemence Dane) Henry VIII (1934)(with Clemence Dane) Saraband for Dead Lovers (1935, produced as a film) The Female Felon (1935) Under Capricorn (1937, produced as a film in 1949) A Woman Among Wild Men (1938)(with Clemence Dane) Maid No More (1940)
Plays: Masks (1921) A Man of His Time (1923) The Women's Comedy (1926) Pan in Pimlico (1926)
Poetry: Philosophies in Little (1921)
Other: The Happy Housewife (1934)
Translation: A selection from Louis-Sebastian Mercier's Le Tableau de Paris under the title 'The Waiting City' (1933).
A new edition of long out-of-print, supernatural tales by Helen Simpson, a once-respected writer whose career was cut short by her unexpected death in 1940. Friends with authors like Dorothy L. Sayers, and collaborator on crime fiction with Clemence Dane, Simpson’s primary interest was in the occult, collecting manuscripts and artefacts linked to demonology and witchcraft, a fascination that fuels some of her stories notably “The Pythoness” a tale of spiritualism and ghostly revenge, and “An Experiment in Death” which details a failed attempt at manipulating spirits. But the majority of her stories are more elusive, sketches or studies in dread, fear or the uncanny, like her beautifully-observed, account of obsession and lost love “The Pledge”; others are subtle twists or variations on the haunted house narrative like “Teigne” and the marvellous “Young Magic”. Not all of the stories are successful, some feel a little fragmentary or almost too subtle, some are a little clumsy. Overall, a reasonable and reasonably gripping, if not completely memorable, collection. As usual with Handheld Press editions this comes with a comprehensive introduction, here by Melissa Edmundson, and useful notes on each story.
Thanks to Edelweiss Plus and publisher Handheld Press for an arc
Editor Melissa Edmundson continues her fruitful collaboration with Handheld Press with another scholarly edition of speculative fiction by an underrated female author. Helen de Guerry Simpson (1897 – 1940), an Australian writer who spent most of her life living in England, was a veritable Renaissance woman with widely diverse interests. She was a biographer, politician, a lecturer and broadcaster, a failed composer (but talented amateur musician), linguist, expert on cookery and homecraft, and collector and connoisseur of occult and magical texts. She published several works of historical fiction and an autobiographical novel, besides working with the playwright and novelist Clemence Dane on a popular series of detective novels, some of which were adapted into movies (including Hitchcock’s Murder). Simpson’s fascination with witchcraft partly inspires her novel Cups, Wands and Swords (1927) but, quite surprisingly, apart from this, her only published book of supernatural fiction is the short story collection The Baseless Fabric (1925) issued by William Heinemann in the same year as her novel Aquittal. The Outcast and The Rite: Stories of Landscape and Fear 1925 – 1938, editor Melissa Edmundson couples the stories in The Baseless Fabric – never again republished since 1925 – with two later supernatural tales by Simpson: The Pythoness and An Experiment of the Dead.
In her useful and erudite introduction to this new collection, Edmundson refers to several early reviews of The Baseless Fabric, including commentaries published in Australia, where Simpson was regarded as something of a national literary treasure. These reviews are remarkably insightful on Simpson’s very particular voice, especially her “impressionistic” approach rooted in the psychology of her characters. Indeed, Simpson taps into some well-established Gothic tropes, such as ghosts and possessions, but her style is never over(t)ly horrific. Of course, there is much weird fiction which is subdued and merely suggestive, but in Simpson this becomes a defining trait. Take the haunted house tales As Much More Land, Teigne and Disturbing Experience of an Elderly Lady. In none of the three stories do we meet actual ghosts, and any otherworldly happenings could be easily explained away as tricks of the imagination. In As Much More Land, the “rational” protagonist spends the night in a locked room with a bad reputation and his sanity starts to unravel. In Teigne, a stately house inflicts its curse on the latest owner. In Disturbing Experience, perhaps the most enigmatic of the lot, the main character acquires a “manor visited by Kings” but is, at least initially, unenthusiastic about her acquisition. A sceptic could explain her gradual but noticeable change of mind to the normal process of getting used to an unfamiliar building. However, the shocking, concluding sentence leaves us in no doubt that the house is “alive” and that, in an uncanny overturning of roles, it has “possessed” its supposed mistress.
I must admit that with some stories, understatement left me underwhelmed. Unfortunately, a case in point was the very first story, Grey Sand and White Sand. This tale of an artist obsessed with the coastal landscape he is trying to capture on canvas left me unimpressed, and almost put me off this book. This would have been a pity, as there are several strong stories here. I have in mind, amongst others, Good Company, in which a young woman on a walking holiday in Italy becomes possessed by the spirit of a Catholic saint. Yes, the negative Mediterranean/Southerner stereotypes jar (although as a fan of Gothic fiction, I’ve long been immune to that), but with its strange combination of folk-horror vibes and dubious Catholic theology, it makes for a compelling story. Another quietly unsettling entry is Young Magic, a disturbing variation on the trope of the “imaginary friend”.
The final two pieces in the volume reveal a markedly different approach, possibly because of their intended (magazine) audience, with Simpson opting for more explicit horror in these tales of occult rituals gone askew. Perhaps this was a sign of a different path Simpson might have taken in her supernatural works had her life not been cut prematurely short by cancer.
Edmundson’s notes on the text complement this attractive collection. My advice to prospective readers is that these stories need some time to grow on you. Don’t give up on the volume just because one or two stories seem short on narrative. It’s well worth the time and attention.
I'm sure I've said before that short stories are probably the most difficult form to get right. There are some fabulous short stories out there, but there are plenty that are less successful for me. These ones I did like whilst I was reading them, but they were rather fleeting, just snatches of something which I would almost immediately forget, and sometimes I'd find my attention wandered even as I was reading them. I think it was partly to do with my expectations going into the book in the first place; I had expected something more like a ghost story, and for the most part they weren't really that, though 'Teigne', which was my favourite, came closest to a 'spook story'.
Overall, I'm glad to have had the chance to have read them; I was cuious about them, and they have been out of print for many years. I would be interested in trying more of her writing, and I will probably re-read these again at some point, but they won't rank up there with my all time favourite short story collections.
*Many thanks to Edelweiss and Handheld Press for a copy in exchange for an honest opinion*
Since April 2018, I’ve read a short story every day. That’s a lot of stories. Something I have found is that there are a lot of deceased male writers, especially those who specialized in supernatural tales, who are ridiculously overrated. Yet, their legacy remains, along with their circumlocutory tales about fear of death/life/war/women/being poor (delete as appropriate).
So it both infuriates and delights me when I encounter a little-known female writer, whose reputation is far less than her male counterparts purely because of her gender. The Outcast and The Rite is an outstanding collection of weird tales by Helen du Guerry Simpson, lovingly edited by Melissa Edmundson, and published by Handheld Press, and is a prime example of an incredible writer, who deserves to be remembered and celebrated.
The opening story, Grey Sand and White Sand, perfectly sets the tone for the rest of the book. A man becomes convinced there is something lurking near his house, and that his wife is part of the conspiracy. This story had a particularly creepy ending, and confirmed that I would absolutely love this collection.
Other highlights include The Outcast, in which we encounter a strange narrator in a dark pub; Good Company, a story with hints of folk horror; and An Experiment of the Dead, which has a very rewarding denouement.
The Outcast and The Rite is a real gift to lovers of atmospheric ghost stories. Each tale is completely different, and incredibly unsettling. I’m so glad Handheld has brought these stories back to life; it was an absolute pleasure to read them.
Helen de Guerry Simpson was an Australian writer who was already renowned in her own country before she moved to England. She was originally intending to become a composer but when she accepted a bet to write a novel in 3 weeks, her ambitions changed. The bet was won by a publisher accepting her hastily written novel and so a writer was born. Simpson had a successful career and she counted Dorothy L Sayers amongst her many friends. There were film adaptations of her work after her death, but her substantial body of work has been out of print for many years. She had many interests, especially in the occult and the supernatural which was a lifelong passion. It is this strand of her life that runs through this collection. ‘The Baseless Fabric’, the title of which is taken from a speech in the Tempest, was a collection of supernatural tales that attracted much attention at the time of its publication. There are 11 stories taken from it in this slim volume together with two other stories; ‘The Pythoness’ and ‘An Experiment of the Dead’ which were published separately in magazines of the time. These are stories that are being published for the first time since the 1920’s. Simpson died in England aged 57 in 1940 from cancer. These are subtle, understated stories in which the reader almost chases the ghost. There are no glib explanations, no neat resolutions, no large set pieces. Instead, in ‘As Much More Land’, it is a spluttering candle flame in a dark, allegedly haunted, room at night that keeps an Oxford undergraduate company as he sits and waits. But he sees only strange shadows until he gives up and returns to his own room. The next morning at breakfast, he wonders if something was waiting for him to leave after all… Len, a young girl considering her choice of village suitors, ventures into Parvus Holt, the local shunned, dark and silent wood in ‘The Rite’. She picks flowers which seem to wilt and start to die as she lies on the forest floor dreaming. Until she suddenly craves the light again and runs back to the village. The reader is not told of the choice but there is a suggestion that the wood has played its part. An early precursor of Folk Horror perhaps? There is also a suggestion of this in ‘The Outcast’ in which the narrator arrives at a country pub looking for a bed for the night. He listens to bar room chatter which becomes more sinister as the customers discuss plans to plant yew trees in the churchyard to commemorate local servicemen. However, one tree will not take despite 3 attempts. Jim Hewish was left unburied by his comrades during the War and ‘he can’t lie quiet’. I agreed with the editor, Melissa Edmundson’s, comments in the excellent introduction on ‘the malign influence of houses.’ There are three haunted house stories in the book and I really enjoyed reading them as I love tales of haunted houses. In ‘Disturbing Experience of an Elderly Lady’, Mrs Jones buys ancient Ostcott Manor, determined to make it her own. But the house has its own ideas and battle lines are soon drawn up. ‘She knew that the house was fighting for its very existence with its only weapon, this rare quality of charm.’ The final sentence lets the reader know who won. In ‘Teigne’ a plundered and ransacked house exacts its own shrewd revenge on its purchaser, Mr La Vie. I wondered what might happen to the purchasers of parts of the house… A medium, Mrs Bain, resolves to give up her occupation in ‘The Pythoness’. She is in love with a recently widowed man, Mortimer, and she intends to marry him a year after the death of his wife. But will she be able to give up her calling for as one of Mortimer’s friends observe ‘She’s - a sort of spirit right-of-way’ and she has no choice over the final séance when someone insists on coming through…. One of the great strengths of Simpson’s writing is her description of landscape and this was an integral part of the opening story, ‘Grey Sand and White Sand’ in which an artist becomes obsessed with the coastal landscape that he is painting. The portrayal of nature and its own rhythms was also part of the charm of ‘The Rite’ for me. I felt that Simpson vividly brought the protagonists surroundings to life. In ‘The Pledge’, a lonely lodger, Miss Alquist waits. She has arrived and made her home in what was once a coastal town as the sea has receded two miles distant. She lives amongst the ship dwellers who are now tied to the land. 3 or 4 times a year, she brings out items such as a brooch with a design made of feathers and then puts them away again. But how is she found drowned on dry land…. I had previously read ‘Young Magic’ in Women’s Weird, another outstanding Handheld Press collection and it is a disturbing tale of a young girl who loses her imaginary friend and then tries to find them again. As with most short story collections, there are inevitably some stories that the reader prefers to others but with this one I enjoyed the majority of the stories. ‘The Outcast and the Rite’ has Handheld Press’s high production values and they are to be commended on bringing a fascinating writer to a wider audience again. The introduction gives a biography of the author and also has notes on the stories. If you are looking for more conventional supernatural stories, then these may not be for you. But if, like me, you relish an air of unease, a feeling of dread, a sense that the everyday world has suddenly shifted then you may appreciate the strange charms of these stories. My thanks to the publisher for an ARC.
I read this collection of short stories because I liked. A Posteriori in Resorting to Murder. The short story in that anthology was funny. This was the only additional work by her housed at my public library. These stories deal with spiritualism, magic, haunted houses, possession, and similar themes.
There wasn't anything that gripped me to linger, but there were stories I preferred (some titles just aren't that inspiring, BTW):
"As Much More Land": Anne is an older woman (age not clear, say perhaps "no longer young") who has acquired a lovely old house and is being visited by Hugh, a young undergraduate male of indeterminate relationship. She discloses that the house seems to have a mildly haunted room. No big deal, no bumps in the night - just, a vibe, the occasional glow, as of a candle in the room, from a window known to have locked doors and not be used. Hugh decides to sneak into the room late at night to see if he can experience something eerie. Her description of his ability to freak himself out is quite evocative.
"The Pythoness": different people may have different reasons to want to consult a medium. The mediums themselves may be variably. . .honest? In this story, four men of different motivations participate in sessions with Mrs. Bain, of decidedly lower class but surprisingly legit in her abilities.
"An Experiment of the Dead": Lady Paula is not in the first blush of youth but still manages to live quite a robust life, until she meets her fine young thing, a young soldier she is determined to marry, and her husband refuses to grant her a divorce. He's sure this is an impulse will pass in time. Sadly, not before he passes, urged off this mortal coil by Lady Paula herself. She is caught, tried, convicted, and sentenced to be hanged. This presents an opportunity to a distant cousin with decidedly occult interests. Spoiler, and seriously, don't read, but I have questions
In the 10s and 20s of the twentieth century, with science expanding so much, there was a lot of interest in spiritual matters. What boundaries couldn't science explore?
A few of these weird tales by the mostly forgotten Australian author of Under Capricorn are so good that I was surprised I'd never heard of them. "Grey Sand and White Sand," "The Rite," "The Outcast," and "Young Magic" in particular struck me as departures from the M. R. James playbook. Their evocation of the sublime terror of the Australian landscape brings to mind Ozploitation films like Wake in Fright and Picnic at Hanging Rock, shading into cosmic horror, and the emphasis on women's interiority in some of the stories makes them feel unique. Even the more formulaic tales--like "As Much More Land," in which an Oxford skeptic spends the night in a haunted room to prove he's not scared--have excellent writing in them, bordering on psychedelic at times.
Unfortunately this was a DNF for me. I respect the publishers for their production values, and their ability to get obscure books from authors both known and unknown back into the common domain, but this selection – well, one shortish book of spooky stories long forgotten with the addition of two made-for-magazine efforts – didn't float my boat at all. Some things are forgotten for a reason, it goes without saying.
I started, counter to my regular habits, of scoring each story as it came, and I got to the following:-
A painter seems to be expecting a message or gift or something unknowable from the weather over the marsh outside his cottage. Obscure – 4/10. A lass goes to the forbidden woods and finds herself thinking of which of two different men to pledge herself to – open-ended so 6 at best. Regulars at a rural pub discuss a disliked man and how he will be alone in failing to nourish a yew tree now buried, 5/10. An Oxbridge student scoffs at the thought of a room haunted by its inhabitant, especially at the hour of his passing, 4/10.
I then came to the story that seemed to epitomise the problems I had with the book, a high-falutin', very dated, literary approach that generally led to an ending with the staying power of a parliamentary promise. Here, a girl with a real-life fairy friend doing invisible things with scissors due to her malicious intent is forced to move away from the friendship, and finds domesticity, and then finds the hint of something else, the end. Everything about this was just too stuffy – we'd had people quoting literature to no end before, but this antiquated attempt at showing the power of a real supernatural companion was limp and ineffectual, and more alien to my ears that it should be, considering this is not quite at its centenary.
The impression I had, from both the stories themselves and the press reviews quoted from the time, is that this was of the more literary bent even then – that nothing over the years has stopped this from sounding high-brow, pompous and elitist. I like a bit of elitism and pomposity when it delivers a good story, but these evidently don't. They're wet, wishy-washy, and stand up as well as a hundred year old newspaper would in the rain. There's no surprise, no attack, no oomph and no spirit – and for a book of alleged ghost stories that's kind of the issue.