I received a review copy of The Water Bells from the author.
This new collection contains one tale from ST 59, 'Fire and Stick', which I'm sure readers will agree is a first-rate tale of the strange and disturbing. In total TWB offers fifteen stories, and all are of the same high calibre. The illustrations, as astute folk might have noticed, are by Odilon Redon, and are well suited to the tales. Charles Wilkinson's world is an odd one, a liminal but very British domain. It lies, I think, somewhere between Aickman and de la Mare with a strong dash of M.R. James.
A recurring them here is the solitary or somewhat awkward individual - usually male - who finds himself a fish out of water. Thus Theo Dodds who, having 'done nothing with his life for three years', is sent to care for a dying relative in 'Absent Below the Lip'. The title more than hints at horrors to come as Theo discovers - far too late - just what his uncle was and did.
Wilkinson's protagonists are sometimes very unlikeable, and as a rule, they come a cropper. The title story sees an Anglican priest with zero people skills - there was an 'incident' at a christening - packed off to an odd Welsh parish. It becomes clear that the Rectory was built on a sacred site and the priest's predecessors all went 'into the woods', where mysterious forces lurk. The Water Bells of the title are original and effective.
In 'No Visitors' Lenthall - another charmless chap - enjoys a sense of freedom following the death of a demanding, invalid uncle. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Uncle Samuel might not be entirely departed. There is, as with many of the stories here, a quasi-comic feel to events. A setup that could have birthed a sitcom is instead a tale of growing madness and spectral vengeance.
The same can be said of the conceit at the heart of 'A Dormant Concern', though here the protagonist is more sympathetic. A recently widowed man decides to look into the history of a family firm with which he is distantly connected. The firm has not, officially, been active for many years. But as he investigates the town where the business was based, he finds increasing evidence of its non-dormancy. This is not quite a ghost story, not quite a tale of time travel, but has a distinct Twilight Zone feel alongside its British understatement. It also reminded me a little of E.F. Benson's 'Pirates'.
'Black Mixen', another tale set in Wales, is a bit of a high-wire act, violating C.S. Lewis's dictum that describing how odd things strike odd people is to have an oddity too many. Well, Lewis wasn't right about everything, and Wilkinson pulls it off. The story begins with an epigraph from Swedenborg and the fine opening line 'Every day for a week, a funeral had been held in the small town of Llanyffiniau.' A painter who sees angels investigates the changes to his community wrought by an English banker who has apparently revitalised the local economy. But at what cost?
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| THE WATER BELLS is very beautiful book, by the way |
The above are, I think some of the best stories in the book. But even slighter works shine with originality. 'The Illimitable' is an interesting take on the ghost story, with doctor rushing to certify a sudden death on the London Underground. A confusing situation leads to him taking a Tube train heading for no ordinary destination. 'Death and Echoes' reworks the classic idea of a haunting as an echo of past events, in this case, a screech of brakes. In 'Controlling the Lights from Above' Jonathan Ouse (Wilkinson has a way with names) faces a quirkily original form of punishment from on high.
All in all, this is a fine collection of well-wrought tales. Each one demonstrates that the literary short story is alive and well, if somewhat prone to looking over its shoulder and wondering what the hell is going on.
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