Status
Available
Call number
Collection
Publication
Penguin Classics (2011), Paperback, 416 pages
Description
"Machen's weird tales of the creepy and fantastic finally come to Penguin Classics. With an introduction from S.T. Joshi, editor of AMERICAN SUPERNATURAL TALES, THE WHITE PEOPLE AND OTHER WEIRD STORIES is the perfect introduction to the father of weird fiction. The title story "The White People" is an exercise in the bizarre leaving the reader disoriented and on edge. From the first page, Machen turns even fundamental truths upside-down, as his character Ambrose explains, "there have been those who have sounded the very depths of sin, who all their lives have never done an 'ill deed'" setting the stage for a tale entirely without logic"--Provided by publisher.
User reviews
LibraryThing member ToddSherman
“Now we are past all this. We are too weak. We dream when we are awake and when we dream we think we wake.”
—“The Terror” by Arthur Machen
Atmosphere is not a strength of most writers I’ve met—of most writers I’ve read. The current trend in publishing tends toward plot. And long on
Conrad’s setting in "Heart of Darkness" was more of a character than either of the two great main characters of that novella. Blackwood’s “The Willows” were populated by beings that you aren’t quite sure if you’ve properly seen. Bolaño’s "2666" doesn’t even really have a plot. And just who the fuck is "V." in Pynchon’s novel by the same name? Every one of these works has far more atmosphere than the average reader’s imagination knows how to process. Or even store away in the closet next to all the other objects of obsolescence, somewhere in the corner above the outmoded shirts and sweaters that are too warm for the current clime since the move, below the cracked plaster that sorely needs painted over, next to the books of CDs that will never be played again, multiple hardback dictionaries that had even lost the utility to prop up computer equipment, all undergoing the same damage by time, oxidation, disuse, simply because we’ve stopped caring. And maybe none of it is important anymore. I mean, pleated cuffs on shirts? What the hell?
Except that atmosphere sticks like glue on eyelids. Kind of like how your t-shirt clings after watering the plants in eighty percent humidity. You’ve got a second skin and it doesn’t fit at all like you want it. You need to slough it off and shower and, for fuck’s sake, you better put the bathroom fan on or else the mirror will be fogged so much that you won’t be able to see the sweat slide down from a break in the wetlands that have become your hair.
Atmosphere. That’s what Arthur Machen had. Even if I scratched my head over the plot, puzzled over just which character was who, or had to keep straight exactly which timeline I was in, I never lost the atmosphere—the smell and feel of where I was. To “lose the plot” is a saying. Besides the obvious thread of the narrative slipping through the fingers, it can also refer to one going crazy. And when writer after writer keeps stuffing their vacuous narratives with plots out-twisting the most tortuous of Shyamalan stories, I can’t help and wonder at the lack of wonder their work is sodden with. Wet hair in a wet bathroom with streaks on the mirror. It makes me crazy. Atmosphere.
Take a chance and read something to feel something—even if you don’t know what the hell it means. Be brave enough to reject the quick fix. The swim in cool, unfathomed waters is so much more stimulating. And who knows? Maybe you’ll come up with an atmosphere worth remembering, too. Something that’ll truly stick.
In the meantime, I’ve got a closetful of shirts with pleated cuffs to clear out.
—“The Terror” by Arthur Machen
Atmosphere is not a strength of most writers I’ve met—of most writers I’ve read. The current trend in publishing tends toward plot. And long on
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plot. Way long. Maybe string it out for a few installments with one fantastic invented element thrown in the titles or subtitles to make those who are “in the know” feel all the better for being so. So, maps and languages and lineages are cut from whole cloth that had been stolen from better writers. And they in turn had done the same. And that’s the sad saga of where literature has left us; cooked in a lusterless spoon. A rubber hose cuts off the artery in a neat linear narrative, needle-thin characters barely pierce the surface, a syringe full of wish-fulfillment and opioids; we are addicted to plot. Most of us. But there are a few . . . Conrad’s setting in "Heart of Darkness" was more of a character than either of the two great main characters of that novella. Blackwood’s “The Willows” were populated by beings that you aren’t quite sure if you’ve properly seen. Bolaño’s "2666" doesn’t even really have a plot. And just who the fuck is "V." in Pynchon’s novel by the same name? Every one of these works has far more atmosphere than the average reader’s imagination knows how to process. Or even store away in the closet next to all the other objects of obsolescence, somewhere in the corner above the outmoded shirts and sweaters that are too warm for the current clime since the move, below the cracked plaster that sorely needs painted over, next to the books of CDs that will never be played again, multiple hardback dictionaries that had even lost the utility to prop up computer equipment, all undergoing the same damage by time, oxidation, disuse, simply because we’ve stopped caring. And maybe none of it is important anymore. I mean, pleated cuffs on shirts? What the hell?
Except that atmosphere sticks like glue on eyelids. Kind of like how your t-shirt clings after watering the plants in eighty percent humidity. You’ve got a second skin and it doesn’t fit at all like you want it. You need to slough it off and shower and, for fuck’s sake, you better put the bathroom fan on or else the mirror will be fogged so much that you won’t be able to see the sweat slide down from a break in the wetlands that have become your hair.
Atmosphere. That’s what Arthur Machen had. Even if I scratched my head over the plot, puzzled over just which character was who, or had to keep straight exactly which timeline I was in, I never lost the atmosphere—the smell and feel of where I was. To “lose the plot” is a saying. Besides the obvious thread of the narrative slipping through the fingers, it can also refer to one going crazy. And when writer after writer keeps stuffing their vacuous narratives with plots out-twisting the most tortuous of Shyamalan stories, I can’t help and wonder at the lack of wonder their work is sodden with. Wet hair in a wet bathroom with streaks on the mirror. It makes me crazy. Atmosphere.
Take a chance and read something to feel something—even if you don’t know what the hell it means. Be brave enough to reject the quick fix. The swim in cool, unfathomed waters is so much more stimulating. And who knows? Maybe you’ll come up with an atmosphere worth remembering, too. Something that’ll truly stick.
In the meantime, I’ve got a closetful of shirts with pleated cuffs to clear out.
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LibraryThing member ocgreg34
"The White People and Other Weird Stories" is a collection of short stories from a favorite author: Arthur Machen. A Welshman, he wrote tales of the supernatural beginning in the late 1890s through the 1930s, and focused much of the underlying horror on Celtic and pagan beliefs mixed with a touch
It's a fantastic collection of stories and a great introduction to the work of Arthur Machen. Highly recommended.
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of Christianity. The stories in "The White People and Other Weird Stories" all provide a little chill running up and down the spine as the main characters try to figure out who is leaving the crude and strange red hand drawings above his victims or wonder at the mysterious deaths of townsfolk during the early stages of WWII, believing it to be Germans lying in wait through Great Britain -- but the truth is far more strange and difficult to comprehend. Most of the stories seem to deal with modern man inadvertently colliding with gods of old or with creature thought to have disappeared many centuries ago. With a few stories -- such as "The Bowmen" and "The Soldier's Rest" -- Machen tints the the battles of WWI with shades of the supernatural, ghostly soldiers coming to the aid of those in need.It's a fantastic collection of stories and a great introduction to the work of Arthur Machen. Highly recommended.
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Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
2011
Physical description
416 p.
ISBN
0143105590 / 9780143105596