This is a review of the short story Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook, written by M.R. James and published in his collection Ghost Stories of an Antiquary (published 1904). You can read my review of his short story The Treasure of Abbot Thomas, here. Like the main character of this story, M.R. James was a scholar and a Cambridge man. If you like ghosts, he is a must read. Ghost Stories of an Antiquary contains many of his strongest stories.
An amateur archaeologist stops at an old church, where he spends the day looking at whatever amateur archaeologists look at. You’ll have to use your imagination, here. He’s accompanied by the church’s sacristan (a fancy name for keeper), an old man with a horrid case of nerves. Or is it nerves? Dennistoun – who lacks imagination – hears strange things in the church, but he’s not the sort to be put off by unexplained bumps or gouts of uncontrollable laughter.
Afterwards, the sacristan shows Dennistoun a scrapbook consisting of leaves scavenged from illuminated manuscripts. One picture stands out – King Solomon confronting a demon of the night. Dennistoun buys the book from the sacristan. Something follows him back to the hotel. Later that evening, he meets it. The end.
This is a creepy story. By today’s standards, the Victorian prose might seem overly ornate with flat characters, but you are here for the monsters. And James delivers. The demon in this story is described in a tactile way – spider eyes, shallow jaw, black hair, all bone and muscle. The creepiest thing is the monster’s closeness. Dennistoun sees its hand resting on the desk he’s working on, and then it rises up behind him. Talk about breathing down someone’s neck!
I like the idea of a haunted scrapbook. Using the magic of the Google, I searched for an image similar to the one found in the scrapbook. Alas, I found nothing. If anyone knows if an image answering to the description of King Solomon’s Dispute with a Demon of the Night exists, please let me know.
It is also interesting to note how clueless Dennistoun truly is. Or I suppose you could call him literal. There are ample warning signs that things are amiss – strange, unexplained laughter in the church, the old man’s eagerness to unload the scrapbook – which he ignores. I don’t blame him. Everyone knows monsters aren’t real.
Recommended for lovers of creepy and the supernatural.
Abandoned Places 