The Gateless Barrier

by Lucas Malet

Laurence leaned his arms upon the broad wooden hand-rail of the bulwarks. The water hissed away from the side. Immediately below it was laced by shifting patterns of white foam, and stained pale green, violet, and amber, by the light shining out through the rounds of the port-poles. Further away it showed blue black, but for a glistening on the hither side of the vast ridge and furrow. The smoke from the funnels streamed afar, and was upturned by a following wind. The great ship swung in the trough, and then lifted—as a horse lifts at a fence—while the seas slid away from under her keel. As she lifted, her masts raked the blue-black night sky, and the stars danced in the rigging. This was the first time since his marriage, nearly two years before, that Laurence found himself alone and altogether his own master. His marriage was a notable success—every one said so, and he himself had never doubted the fact so far. Yet this solitary voyage, this temporary return to bachelorhood, possessed compensations. He reproached himself, as in duty bound, for being sensible of those compensations. He excused himself to himself. He gave reasons. Doubtless his present sense of freedom and content took its rise not in his enforced absence from Virginia, from her bright continuous talk, her innumerable and perfectly constructed dresses, her perpetual and skilful activities; but in his escape from the highly artificial and materialised society in which she lived and moved and had her being. Laurence had certainly no ostensible cause of complaint against that society. Its members had recited his verses, given a charming performance of his little comedy—in the interests of a deserving charity—quoted his opinions on literature and politics, and waxed enthusiastic over his strokes at golf and his style at rackets and polo. He had, in fact, been the spoilt child of two New York winters and two Newport summers. No Englishman, he was repeatedly assured, had ever been so popular among the "smart set" of the great republic. It had petted and fêted him, and finally given him one of its fairest daughters to wife. And for all this Laurence Rivers was sincerely grateful. His vanity was most agreeably flattered. His natural love both of pleasing and of pleasure was well satisfied. Yet—such is the perversity of human nature—the very completeness of his success tended to lessen the worth of it. He even questioned, at moments, whether that success did not offer the measure of surrounding immaturity of taste and judgment, rather than of the greatness of his personal talent and merit. He was haunted by the conviction that he had never yet given his best, the highest and strongest of his nature, either in thought, or art, or adventure, or even—perhaps—he feared it—in love. The demand had been for a thoroughly presentable and immediately marketable article; and the Best is usually far from marketable, often but doubtfully presentable either. It followed that Laurence had, almost of necessity, kept the best of himself to himself—kept it to himself so effectually that he had come uncommonly near forgetting its existence altogether, and letting it perish for lack of air and exercise.

162 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1900

About the author

Lucas Malet is the pseudonym of Mary St. Leger Kingsley (4 June 1852 – 27 October 1931), Victorian novelist.

She was the daughter of Charles Kingsley, author of The Water Babies. In 1876 she married William Harrison, Minor Canon of Westminster, and Priest-in-Ordinary to the Queen.

Reviews

[Shawn Mooney (Shawn Breathes Books)]

I went in to this knowing that it was at least partially a ghost story, and that I absolutely loathe ghost stories. It’s good for me to try one every so often just to make sure that it’s still true. Oh my God, as soon as the ghost plot, um, appeared – did you see what I did there? – I almost lost my breakfast. That happened a fifth of the way in, and I am out of here!

[Sara Booklover · Rating 4 out of 5]

Romanzo con ghost story. Un protagonista che si ritrova convocato al capezzale dello zio malato, nella grande magione inglese che avrà in eredità. Ben presto scopre che la casa ospita segreti del passato, tra cui lo spirito di una giovane donna. Una lettura densa e dalle atmosfere cupe e rarefatte, che unisce una vicenda misteriosa a pensieri esistenziali tra filosofia, esoterismo, religione e scienza. Non il solito romanzo gotico con casa infestata, ma un’opera più matura e sofisticata.

[Smith · Rating 3 out of 5]

Laurence Rivers is an Englishman abroad. His marriage to Virginia, an American socialite, is a seemingly happy one on the other side of the pond. However, Laurence is not quite the social butterfly that his wife is, so when his uncle summons him to England he is only too happy to return alone.

Laurence arrives at his wealthy, but ailing, uncle’s pile and is informed that he is to inherit the estate. However, there is one caveat: no women are to be allowed on the estate at all. Upon this point Uncle Rivers is most insistent—and that includes Virginia! Laurence agrees, sticks around as per his uncle’s wishes, and familiarises himself with the house while waiting for his uncle to pass. As he potters about the house, Laurence finds a hidden room behind a tapestry. This yellow drawing room is beautifully appointed, but no one appears to use it anymore. There is something about the room and he takes to visiting it frequently, and whilst there one early evening a young woman unexpectedly appears from nowhere. The young man is quickly smitten with this beautiful young lady, Agnes Rivers. But Agnes, it seems, is not all Laurence believes her to be.

Malet’s novel is incredibly dense and well crafted, while still remaining readable. However, to call this a ghost story in the same way that Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’ is a ghost story, is not entirely accurate. Yes, like Dickens, Malet’s novel is of its time, has a wider meaning and is skilfully written. But the two do not feel the same. Malet’s novel feels almost like a disquisition on science, religion and philosophy, rather than a genre novel. Of course, there are references to gender, industrial revolution and even war, but these aren’t the main themes, to me. The author discusses science, religion and philosophy — and overlaps them all at certain times. However, it is the central theme of death which is the main focus within the book, especially the final chapter.

But, are there ghosts in it, you ask? Well, yes. But this isn’t a ghost story. Is it more akin to Ibsen’s ‘Ghosts’, than the white-sheeted Spooky ones of childhood imagination. However, while the book was less ‘entertaining’ than some other Victorian ghost or horror tales, it is certainly more thought-provoking than you might expect.

[strawberry.daisies]

the audacity of a man

[Patrizia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Non amo le storie di fantasmi. Ma questa riflette in modo così diretto e appassionato quell'anelito tardo-vittoriano a superare i confini della morte e dell'aldilà che ha finito con il conquistarmi. E poi Lucas Malet (pseudonimo di Mary St Leger Kingsley) scriveva divinamente.

[itsmesara · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5⭐️

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I definitely enjoyed this far more than I was expecting to, and I do think it's a shame that I likely never would have come across it of not for its appearance on my university module reading list.