Tormented spectres wander the pages of this disquieting collection. Lock your door, turn up the lights and as you start to read, pray to be delivered from ghoulies and ghosties and things that go bump in the night.
If you have ever roamed the raw and desolate countryside of the Highlands or listened to the wind hurling through the hills; if you have stood at the foot of Ben Nevis, become drunk with the beauty of the Isle of Skye, or contemplated the Old Man of Storr in awe, then you might very well believe that “ghouls, ghosts and beasties” do exist. For who can really tell what specters haunt our Rorschach blot of a world unseen? Dark romanticism at its finest form.
A bit of an odd selection of stories, and most of them not what I was expecting. The 'ghosts' were mostly not your classic scary visions but weird happenings and unexplained occurrences. My favourites were the ones from Robert Louis Stevenson, whose prose I really enjoyed, the most turgid (sorry) were from Walter Scott. Those from Margaret Oliphant were a bit prosy, and overall (Stevenson excepted) that was my gripe about this collection - that it was a bit prosy, a bit lecturey, and very much loaded with moral lessons. I suppose I should have suspected that since most of the authors were Victorian. My fault for not checking.
A great wee compilation; I was really taken in by Margaret Oliphant's works, and Marshall's The Haunted Major was a surprisingly funny story, I thought.