The Fireplace Exploring Weird Tales Vol 5, No. 1

THE FIREPLACE: EXPLORING WEIRD TALES Vol. 5, No. 1â€"PART 7 Time to leap back into my collection of posts looking again at a ninety-three 12 months old issue of Weird Tales, which is on the market for all of us to read online. We’re making some headway here, transferring from “The Rajah’s Gift” to “The Fireplace” by Henry S. Whitehead. In Part 2 of this collection, looking simply at the first sentences of each story, I gave author Henry S. Whitehead some crap about beginning his story from the perspective not of a personality but… When the Planter’s Hotel in Jackson, Mississippi, burned to the bottom in the notable fire of 1922, the loss of that section of the South couldn't be measured by way of that historical hostelry’s former grandeur. Is this from the perspective of a constructing? This story opens like a newspaper article and honestly, that’s not a great factor. To my tastes, that is the worst first sentence of the lot. Back to the drafting board, Henry S. Whitehead! And studying on by way of the primary lengthy para graph, the feeling that this begins, no less than, more like a newspaper or magazine article about a tragic fire holds true. It’s a stylistic selection that no few authors have adopted, sinceâ€"no less than again within the olden instances of newspapers and magazinesâ€"this might lend a sure air of realism to the proceedings. Presenting it as a news item makes it feel one way or the other more actual, proper? Sure, maybe. Is this just a personal preference of mine getting in the way of my enjoyment of at least the first web page of “The Fireplace”? That’s it, exactly. I even have trouble with that device, and perhaps it’s because I never really grew up studying the paper, or experiencing the world in that way. Of course I read non-fiction of all stripes, and have for the higher part of my life, but I’ve compartmentalized these things on my brain perhaps a bit too thoroughly: This is what a newspaper article seems like. This is what fiction seems like. And by no means the twain shall meet. I’ll volunteer to be the first particular person to admit I need to cease with “never” in my mental life so okay, Henry, I’ll persist with you. And sorry about trying to ship you again to the drafting board. Anyway, he can’t return to the drafting board because he died eighty-six years ago final week (November 23, 1932), only seven years after this story was revealed. Henry S. Whitehead, a Harvard classmate of Franklin Roosevelt’s, had a reasonably quick career in fiction, however like many pulp era authors, a quite prolific one. His first short story (“The Intarsia Box”) was revealed in 1923 and eight extra brief stories followed, most published in Weird Tales, till we get to “The Fireplace.” His tales have been collected into books starting with Jumbee and Other Uncanny Talesin 1941 via to 2012’s Voodoo Tales: the Ghost Stories of Henry S. Whitehead. He’s another Lovecraft collaborator (“The Trap,” “Cassius,” and “Bothon”)â€"b eginning to see that trend in Weird Tales? I assume so. Back to the story: Starting with the hearth that claimed the lives of two distinguished Southern gentlemen, which was thought to have started within the fire (ah haâ€"a callback to the title in paragraph two!) we pick up with what's clearly our POV character, “a sure Mr. James Callender,” arriving at the resort ten years beforethe hearth. He appears to be a pleasant sufficient guy, giving the “grinning negro porters” a generous tip. Whitehead also slips in a reference to “the festival season of Christmas” as a purpose for the porters to expect a much bigger than average tipâ€"a intelligent way to say, “It’s Christmastime,” the importance of which calls again to the date of the hearth and takes on even larger significance later within the story. Our horror story reader’s ears prick up when Mr. Callender specifically asks for “the room with the big hearth”â€"the room where the two men are killed. You reali ze it’s going to be haunted. How is it not haunted? But then the fire happens ten years in Callender’s future, so…? What is the importance of Callender curling up by the fireplace to learn Arthur Machen’s “House of Souls”? I’m undecided. I haven’t read it, however all of us can, at no cost, by way of Project Gutenberg. I’m going to bookmark that and skim it later. Anyway, Callender will get wrapped up in the e-book and is startled by a late-night time knock on his door. I love the outline of him studyingâ€"marking his place within the e-book to answer the door. There’s no purpose to be shocked that a Harvard graduate from the first third of the twentieth Century was a reader, but that truth is tangible right here. Ooh, spookyâ€"he opens the door and there’s nobody there. See? Told you that room was haunted. It must be haunted. This story is in Weird Talesfor God’s sake. But Mr. Callender doesn’t know that so he experiences what I mentioned here a couple of weeks in the past because the Persistence of the Logical: He opened the door, and was surprized to seek out no one in the corridor. He stepped via the door, and glanced right after which left. There were, he observed, turns in each directions at short distances from his door, and Mr. Callender, whose mind was educated in the sifting of proof, labored out an instantaneous clarification in his mind. Way to stay enlightened, Mr. Callender! But seriously, this is exactlywhat I was talking about in that publish, and it labored simply as well a long time later for Jeff VanderMeer. I love the reveal that follows. This is exactly the way to do it: Mr. Callender, smiling on the whimsical idea of his, turned again into his room and shut the door behind him. A gentleman was sitting within the place he had vacated. Mr. Callender stopped short and stared at this intruder… See how simple that is? Mr. Callender is okay, the world is correctly. New paragraph. The unexpected factor is simply there . Henry S. Whitehead didn’t feel the necessity to level that out with something like: Though it was fully unimaginable and so therefor needed to be the results of some supernatural force, the ghost of a man was sitting in his chairâ€"a ghost, I inform you! Well, you know what I mean. How do you write a “jump scare” in prose horror? Just drop the sudden thing right in there, as merely acknowledged as potential. The man is simply there. Boom. Despite that, Callender calms down quickly and stays within the logical. He doesn’t go right to “this is a ghost.” Somehow this guy received into his room, and though startled, Callender takes the man at face value, dropping hints to us that one thing’s weird about this man by describing the older trend of his go well with. This goes to the heart of suspense. In most cases suspense comes from an imbalance of knowledge. One character is aware of something the others don't, and/or your readers know something the POV character does not . In this case, we all know there will be a fire in that room that kills two males ten years from now, however then this guy appears to be fifteen years up to now, or twenty-five years forward of the fireplace? Callender doesn’t know any of this, though, so now we’re nervous for him. When is he going to get that something really creepy is occurring? That query proper there equals “suspense.” I like the way in which the ghost (though admittedly, I don’t truly know this can be a ghost but, do I?) disarms Callender by being really chill and reasonable. Here’s a question: Is the overly formal method each men communicate to one another actually a relic of the timeâ€"meaning that actual gents of the 20s would discuss like thatâ€"or is that this an writer struggling with making characters speak to each other like individuals actually discuss to one another? That’s a tricky query to answer, so I’ll just leave it on the market and perhaps circle again to that in a post of its own. Anyway, it obtained me thinkingâ€"and that’s exactly why we (all writers) must read, and skim so much, because what other writers are doing (or have carried out, however long ago) can get us serious about how we’re writing ourselves. The “ghost” offers his name as Charles Bellingerâ€"not one of many two males killed within the hearth within the opening paragraph. Hm. Interesting. My expectations have been subverted. I have been stunned. And then I’m instantly shocked once more when Mr. Bellinger says, “I could as nicely add to this, because it explains several issues, although in itself sounding somewhat odd, that truly I am useless.” Surprises coming at a pleasant clip. I like that. Clearly, December 23 mattersâ€"it’s the same day the hearth occurs in the future. Remember that reference to the porters’ tip at the beginning? So then, sixteen years in the past, Bellinger was here in this room with the 2 victims of the longer term fireplace, who are nonetheless alive in Callender’s current day. Weirdness! The story now goes into the ghost of Mr. Bellinger telling Mr. Callender a protracted story. I wrestle to forgive that. I get it, and though having a ghost inform the again-story is better than an “omniscient” narrator just information dumping it, it’s only one click on better. It would be a enjoyable and, I wager, enlightening train to brainstorm ways to make this story of Bellinger’s really feel as though it’s happening “in the now” so Callender experiences it in a more visceral, emotionally concerned method. Feel free to try this train, it will build a ability you’ll want to use next time you start a scene by which two characters sit in comfy chairs and telleach other a narrative when they need to be experiencinga story! I do like Bellinger’s creepy description of the moment of his personal demise, however again, showingthat quite than tellingthat would have been better! Okay then, so here’s the source of the hau nting. After accusing one of the different men of cheating at playing cards, Bellinger is stabbed and killed. The different outstanding Southern gentlemen (together with the two victims of the hearth that will finally destroy the hotel) resolve to cowl up the murder, so that they’re all responsible of the crime. Got it! Whitehead dances across the gory stuff a bit as the lads cut Bellinger’s physique up and burn him, piece by piece, within the big fire, thereby disposing if the body. O, Murder Most Foul! This word choice right here struck me as… folksy: My not inconsiderable winnings, in addition to the coin and currency which had been in my possession, have been then chilly-bloodedly divided among these 4 rascals, for such I had for some time now recognized them as turning into. Rascals? Dude, they only murderedyou, chopped up your physique, burned it, and stole all your money. Rascals? If you say so. Bellinger then goes into the main points of the rascals’ solely massive m istake, which is their thought to hide his other belongings somewhat than disposing of them in the river or at another remote locale. The strange limits to Bellinger’s abilities once “materialized” add a little worldbuilding to the proceedings, as we begin to be taught no less than slightly of the bounds of how ghosts workâ€"but it will give me trouble at the very finish of the story. Rules have now been established for the way ghosts work, or, at least, how thisghost works. Those rules now need to be followed, proper? More later. Bellinger knows, by some means, that Callender is an lawyer and asks his assist in bringing his killers to justice, although sixteen years have passed for the reason that crime. Callender agrees and Bellinger disappears. Callender dutifully launches his investigationâ€"most likely my least favourite part of any ghost storyâ€"but on this case it feels organic to the story, nevertheless “organic” it may be that a ghost has hired a lawyer. Still, Iâ €™m with you, Henry S, Whitehead! But then Callender will get busy with other work and sets apart the investigation, only coincidently booking the same room, now on the twenty third of December. And the ghost of Bellinger, apparently unable to sue for authorized malpractice, strangles poor Mr. Callender and stuffs his head within the hearth grate. This is achieved by Bellinger’s personal strangely lengthy-fingered palms despite the fact that earlier within the story he wanted Callender’s assist lifting the nook of a rug to reveal the hidden belongings. Which requires more strength, lifting up the corner of a rug or strangling a grown man who we have to imagine struggled for his life? I’ll refer you to that disturbing scene in the film No Country for Old Menin case you’re nonetheless undecided. Follow your own guidelines, individuals! If a ghost can’t carry the nook of a rug and says flat out that knocking on the door was pretty much the restrict of his capability to intera ct with the world, that very same ghost can’t strangle someone. No different point out of how we then get, ten years later, to the death by fireplace of two of the “rascals.” I guess Bellinger was stuck waiting for these guys to guide the room again on the identical day? I favored this story lots, proper up until the tip, and never just because of the inconsistent abilities of the ghost. How does this pay off? Callender is murdered for what cause, actually? Couldn’t Bellinger have simply materialized and talked him into relaunching the investigation? We don’t know if that occurred and if Callender refused as a result of we aren’t proven that scene. Bellinger just strangled him together with his weird long fingers. The story to that point trusted our desirous to see justice for poor, mistreated Bellinger but now we’re left pondering, Fuck you, Bellinger. I guess it takes a rascal to know a rascal. I don’t know, Henry S. Whitehead… did you simply run into some kind o f pre-set word depend restrict? Seems to me he simply bailed out of this one. Still, some lessons to be learned from “The Fireplace,” particularly when it comes to how notto end a brief story! â€"Philip Athans About Philip Athans Fill in your details beneath or click an icon to log in: