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Zed (Gary_mc)
Username: Gary_mc
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Friday, March 14, 2008 - 01:10 pm: | |
By Gary Fry (Gary_fry) ( - 129.11.76.229) on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 - 03:22 pm:
'Apples' in one of my favourite Campbell tales, principally because of the type of narration it draws upon. The fiction that really works well is surely that which is most redolent of real life, and by employing a first-person narrative from the perspective of a child, Campbell is able to achieve this kind of verisimilitude. Now, I once lent a copy of 'Meeting The Author' to an academic peer who replied that she didn't get on with it at all, and that some of it was poorly expressed. Well, talk about missing the point! What she meant, I imagine, is the awkwardness of phrasing a child would include, and 'Apples' exploits this deliberate strategy to fine effect. Lines such as "he was like a fat old white dog trying" when Mr Gray is trying to climb his fence would seem clumsy in a different context, but not in this one. It's evocative and effective simply because it's exactly how a child would perceive it. Ergo, there is no 'literary' gap between the events depicted and their mediated reportage. That is to say, we the readers are right there with the children - the episode hasn't any distance from us born of literary artifice (which would of course imply a reflexive break from the event, rendering it less pungent).
Another way in which the type of narration contributes to the feeling of dread is in the revelation what is inside Mr Gray's house after the police find him dead and then investigate. The child narrator completely misunderstands what the pictures of children imply - but we the readers don't. This tacit complicity between author and reader is of course an M R Jamesian device, and one for which David Punter has berated both James and Campbell. However, in defence of both, I'd regard it as a central device of the genre, particularly when used to such insidious effect as it is in 'Apples'.
So much for the narration. That isn't all I admire about the piece. Here's more.
Campbell knows how to inject just the right amount of blurred perception at just the right time. Consider the passage in which the narrator is dunking for apples - all that shadow and confusion in the water bowl. This occurs at the stage when the 'ghost' has arrived, and the way it buggers around with the reader's understanding of what is actually going on is coupled with ambiguity about the identity of the character under the sheet. Campbell knows that one needn't describe only the central focus of our dread; it can work just as well - nay, better, sometimes - if it's also done via a proximate event. The apples are of course repeatedly related to Mr Gray right the way through the tale, and the narrator's experience in the bowl is part of Mr Gray's ongoing characterisation. Cunning stuff.
Indeed, the one explicit description of the spook in the finale is well done, too. Campbell doesn't do anything so mundane as describe the thing's rotting flesh. We've read that a billion times before and, as seasoned horror readers, are surely immune to it. No, he uses a single punchy line: "It didn't look much like a hand at all." Do we need any more? I don't think so. Campbell knows that reading is a collaboration, and he trusts the readers who 'get him' to do their half of the work.
Another moment that sets the tale aside from other such fare: Andrew wets himself twice in the story. Now, that's quite a severe response to fear. However, it prepares us for the memorable last line which concerns the ultra-severe response of the lad's hair having gone "dead white." Again, as in other work, Campbell forces together incongruous phenomena. Think of the line in 'The Guide' in which the monk-thing speaks out of a "hole that was much of its face" - a hole...a face. It's these incompatible elements combined that unsettles, and in the case of 'Apples' we have a child and we have white hair, and ne'er the twain shall meet...except here. A perfect note on which to leave the reader.
OK, enough of the virtues! If I have any criticism of the tale, I'd say only this: there's a non-incremental leap between the white patchy thing at the window of Mr Gray's deserted house, and then the narrator's sighting of the spook in the front garden. I would have preferred an extra beat between these two moments, perhaps a sight of the ghost more solid than the first, yet less whole than the second - as if the thing was gradually taking on more form. Maybe that's a personal thing, however.
There are other stuff I could mention, but I won't ramble. Try as I did, I couldn't link the apple thing to an Edenic loss of innocence, except in some spurious academic way. I found the strident difference between the parents of the children noteworthy - wrestler to teacher! - but have nothing much to say about that at the mo. So I'll shut up and let someone else weigh in.
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By Allybird (Allybird) ( - 79.70.29.144) on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 - 04:51 pm:
I must admit the first thing I thought of was Eden etc but then realized that Jill didn't actually pick the apple off the tree, however, later in the story whilst bobbing, "Jill got the apple first time."
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By Gary Mc (Zed) ( - 81.96.240.83) on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 - 08:34 pm:
And so it begins...
This is a great little tale, quintissential Campbell in many ways, not least of which is the grand opening line: "We wanted to be scared on Hallowe'en, but not like that." This calm, moderated statement sets us up from the outset for a huge scare.
Like GF, I've always been in awe of the way Campell uses childhood perception - here we have Jill's shadow seeming like "something was squashing it", and that horribly simple reference to Mr Gray's corpse looking like it had "gone bad somehow", perhaps like rotten fruit? (an image that's also repeated elsewhere). All terrific stuff, which accumulates nicely throughout the tale.
I disagree with Ally's Eden analogy: Jill initially can't reach the hanging apples, fails to bob for one, and only succeeds in claiming one of the hanging apples when "Andrew's mum" lifts her up.
Andrew wets himself 3 times, Gary - the poor sod. And Jill is sick on the carpet. These poor kids make a right old mess, don't they? :-)
I think the leap between the white face at the window (which is possibly only a clear patch on the glass), to the sighting in the garden -wonderfully done, with its too white face and messy black mouth - is fine. The only criticism I have is that the story feels a little on the short side.
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By Hubert (Hubert) ( - 78.21.189.60) on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 - 09:22 pm:
'My' tale, "The man in the Underpass", is another story that hinges on childhood perception. "Dragging Down', too, visits much the same territory. Unlike the fiendish kids in Bradbury's "Let's Play Poison", Campbell's children are generally well-behaved and ready to accept the 'otherness' surrounding them as just another facet of everyday reality.
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By Gary Mc (Zed) ( - 81.96.240.83) on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 - 09:46 pm:
Indeed, that's the strength of Campbell's use of this type of childhood perception: the kids' reactions are real, they accept the world they see.
I always confuse "Apples" with "The Guy", another childhood-set tale (although, this time with the narrative distance GF refers to above), and there's a bonfire central to the ending.
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By Johnlprobert (Johnlprobert) ( - 90.208.214.14) on Wednesday, March 12, 2008 - 10:10 pm:
“I’d have done anything rather than see underneath”
Ramsey’s stories featuring children, and in particular children and their relationships with their teachers or parents (in this case both) could form an entire sub-genre. Part of the fun I think of having kids of this age centre stage is that while it provides plenty of opportunity for that particularly childish, sinister way of describing things, it also allows you (perhaps) to feel some degree of sympathy for the (often elderly) victim of whatever mischievous pranks are the order of the day. I suspect we’re not meant to feel too sorry for Mr Gray, but the poor bugger’s had his property broken into and his allotment (that he sometimes works in ‘until midnight’ we are told) raided, and there’s no hard evidence that they found ‘books about children’, just the usual kind of hearsay that can circulate under such circumstances.
I also like that this is a story more about death, infirmity & decay than about youth. Despite the presence of our protagonists, the emphasis is on ‘rotten fruit’, water that smells bad, and of course old man Gray succumbing to a fatal heart attack.
Otherwise I think ‘The Hooded Gouger’ is a splendid name for a wrestler and that Andrew really does wet himself a little too often , & that’s me done for this story. Looking forward to the next one.
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By Allybird (Allybird) ( - 79.70.31.36) on Thursday, March 13, 2008 - 08:42 am:
Aided or not ,suspended apples or bobbing,she still got the apple. I was, just like Gary, looking for something to say about Eden. Perhaps someone else can see something.
What makes the story even more menacing is the way that "Andrew's Mum," is either pressing against Jill without using her hands, or leaning over her. Very disturbing.
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By Karim (Karim) ( - 212.97.200.24) on Thursday, March 13, 2008 - 08:52 am:
Having re-read the story yesterday evening and letting it gestate the night over, and reading the very good comments above, I suppose I would pick up on the comments regarding children's perception. I suppose children have a tendency to either magnify certain experiences because they are particularly susceptible to influences from the exterior world, or they tend to isolate them and incorporate them into their own imaginations and mythologies, often in more intense ways than adults. As mentioned above, this is a great device to isolate, distort and magnify certain perceptions, blurring the line between the real and the imagined. This is used to great effect when witholding certain information, as in the appearance of the 'manifestation' at the end. (It is rendered even more disturbing as Gary F. mentions above, because of the 'ambiguity about the identity of the character under the sheet' Is it Mr. Gray? Is it made of flesh and/or spirit, cloth or water, or is it just animated, rotten meat? What is 'flopping' under the mask and what is further souring the apples?
Despite the chilling conclusion and the dread that builds and builds in the piece, I found the story quite playful often in the most twisted ways of course. Child's play and 'dare you games' are juxtaposed with what in this context could be interpreted as very sinister imagery indeed: children having their hands bound with handkerchiefs behind their backs, the foul smelling 'body' beneath the cloth, the use of masks, even mouths reaching for apples in the water. The subtext seems to play with the sexual practices from the adult sphere. As Lorp P mentions above: The 'book about children is just the usual kind of hearsay that can circulate under such circumstances' but the insertion of this information also further intensifies the subtext of adult sexual imagry at the end. In a sense the children and their world is violated, and the imagery of the white hair, other than being the symbol of absolute terror in this instance, also marks the sudden, jarring, jolt of a transition from childhood to adulthood.
This is an excellent story, and I love the 'compression' of the tale: Alot happens in the story, yet we feel the gradual build up of unnease, and yet this feels like a lightening fast shock to the system. An excellent executed tale indeed!
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By Richard_gavin (Richard_gavin) ( - 69.157.40.84) on Thursday, March 13, 2008 - 10:40 pm:
First, I wish to express that the comments in this thread were *precisely* what I was hoping this Reading Group would foster. This is great stuff, folks.
I read "Apples" for the first time this afternoon and then read everyone's comments here. Gary Fry did a superb job introducing the tale and pulling out the elements he found most potent. My post also contains spoilers, so if you haven't read "Apples" yet, avert your eyes...
To begin, I'm a sucker for any horror tale set around Hallowe'en. Yes, it is a cliched timeframe for a horror yarn, but October still holds a special magic for me, so I'm easily immersed in tales that evoke that type of atmosphere.
I'm glad I wasn't the only one who picked up on the narrator's chillingly brief mention of "pictures of children" being found in Mr. Gray's house. I actually re-read that paragraph before carrying on. The nonchalance of its presentation was so convincing when one considers the age of the narrator. This detail also makes the character of Mr. Gray all the more frightening.
Did anyone else notice how Ramsey subtly lent Mr. Gray an almost omnipotent presence in the neighbourhood, at least according to the young narrator? For example: "The lamps that were supposed to stop people from getting mugged turned everything grey in the allotments and made Mr Gray's windows look as if they had metal shutters on." Turning everything grey, grey metal shutters...the old man stains everything in his vicinity, at least according to the boy narrator. This to me is vintage Campbell. Is Mr. Gray more than human, inhuman, or is the narrator simply untrustworthy due to his age and naivete? Ambiguity is difficult to do without muddying one's work. Ramsey hits the mark more often than any other writer I can think of.
The apple-bobbing game (which is what we Canucks call it, or "dunking for apples") was the scene in this tale that gave me a genuine frisson. At first I thought the apple game was a weakness of the tale simply because the story's title and opening scene involving the apple theft seemed to telegraph the climax. But perhaps this was Ramsey's intention; to let you know that *something* was going to happen involving Gray's apples, but you weren't sure exactly what that something would be, or how it would be executed.
One critique was that I found the immolation of the Gray creature in the Guy Fawkes pyre to be just slightly rushed. It's a very minor pacing issue, and could very well be a matter of my own personal taste rather than a genuine flaw in the story. The ending just seemed a tad rushed, but then again the final scene was one of utter chaos and horror, so perhaps this is only fitting.
Andrew's hair turning white was a nice traditional touch, too.
All in all this was a strong choice by Gary Fry. I'm certainly glad I read it.
Best,
Richard
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By Richard_gavin (Richard_gavin) ( - 69.157.40.84) on Thursday, March 13, 2008 - 10:51 pm:
Re: Eden/Apple -- I confess that I didn't really see this reference in the story. It might well have been there, but the analogy doesn't fit with me for some reason.
Re: Children -- Ah, yes, the role of the child protagonist and children at "play" often show how pregnant with horrors the world actually is. I found that I was able to relate a bit more to the narrator of "Apples" than I could with some of Ramsey's other child characters. Perhaps because I remember what it was like being a boy at that age and that I also took part in foolish dares and other games that held the seeds of danger.
John mentioned the notion of rot, death and decay. This is an interesting theme that I hadn't thought of until now. The mention of sour apple water was genuinely repulsive.
Another scene I'd meant to mention was when Gray chases after Jill with the trimmers. This scene was so charged with menace and I think a strange sexual energy (the symbol of the trimmers snipping at the young girl) that I found it *extremely* disturbing and nightmarish (in a good way). Did anyone else?
Karim: Very good point about the white hair marking Andrew's transition into adulthood. I hadn't considered that.
Best,
Richard
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By Gcw (Gcw) ( - 84.43.97.6) on Friday, March 14, 2008 - 08:57 am:
"Andrew's hair turning white was a nice traditional touch, too. "
I agree, I also love the shudder that " He spent the rest of his life incarcerated in an asylum for the criminally insane" brings.
It's one of those cliches - but a good one.
Sad I can't join in this reading group - just too busy at the mo' - it looks great fun.
gcw
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By Albie (Albie) ( - 195.195.236.131) on Friday, March 14, 2008 - 10:50 am:
Jill. Andrew. Colin.
JAC. |
Zed (Gary_mc)
Username: Gary_mc
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Friday, March 14, 2008 - 06:12 pm: | |
Joel's comments:
By Joel (Joel) ( - 86.151.135.41) on Friday, March 14, 2008 - 05:39 pm:
It's worth noting that 'Apples' first appeared in Alan Ryan's anthology HALLOWEEN HORRORS. The story presents as a straightforward, 'does what it says on the tin' horror entertainment, with tips of its battered hat to M.R. James, Ray Bradbury and Stephen King. There's more to it than simple scary fun, however.
The line that sticks in my mind is "My mum said the police found a whole bedroom full of rotten fruit, and some books about kids." Suddenly we're in another kind of story altogether. The Halloween party games sequence is charged with an ambiguous dread reminiscent of 'The Enchanted Fruit'. The twist that really makes the story isn't the ghost, which anyone could have seen coming: it's Andrew drawing the ghost away from Jill, and thereby showing himself to be more mature than anyone, including Andrew, has suspected.
There's even more to it. If Andrew's baiting of Mr Gray is a kind of pre-adolescent flirtation, an imitation of adult sexual behaviour, then his drawing the vengeful ghost upon himself is a wilful surrender to abuse. What that may imply about Andrew's family is anyone's guess.
One detail that makes me think the above is more than just my warped imagination is the closing line of the story, which deliberately echoes the closing words of John Metcalfe's classic 'The Feasting Dead'. The latter is about a kind of supernatural child abuse – a ghostly man feeding on the vitality of a male child – and, in turn, draws on Henry James' 'The Turn of the Screw'. By making the connection, Campbell links 'Apples' to the theme of child sexual abuse – and to the psychological ghost story tradition, a different strand of weird fiction from the overtly supernatural ghost story tradition of M.R. James. |
Richard_gavin (Richard_gavin)
Username: Richard_gavin
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Sunday, March 16, 2008 - 03:04 pm: | |
An interesting observation, Joel. We all seem to be in unison that the "books about kids" being the disturbing black heart of this story.
I wonder if my own perceptions of Andrew's "baiting" of Gray at the end of the story were a bit superficial, for I'd assumed it was rooted in Andrew having secret "romantic" (as much as a young boy can have, that is) feelings toward Jill. If your theory is correct, it makes "Apples" all the more potent.
Of course any worthy, lasting tale of horror will be much more than "simple scary fun," and "Apples" certainly qualifies, as this thread attests.
Best,
Richard |
Adriana (Adriana)
Username: Adriana
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Tuesday, March 18, 2008 - 06:31 pm: | |
Hmm. I found myself wondering if the apples weren't a (sadistic) lour for the children.
Mr Gray's relationship to the apples being an interesting and disturbing one unto itself. He covets them. But doesn't seem to eat them. Instead he seems to hoard them (left to rot) in a bedroom, along with those "books."
Brrr.
And then there's that detail of the apples not being any good (one of the kids mentions that they taste "old and bitter") - which gives such an unsettling feel... The idea that this fruit (a seductive temptation) is an extension of Mr Gray in a way -- already rotten.
God I could smell that sour water in the apple bobbing scene. Could feel all the nasty terror of what might be lurking in that fruit, or in the deep water in the bowl. Eek.
And one of my favorite details was all those little hands tied behind their backs. Even if they'd known the father had been locked out earlier, they couldn't have opened the door to let him in. All the tension built during that party - from the irritation of the father, to the missing mother, to the kids not really wanting to be there, and the excruciating knowledge of where those apples came from... and then the hand tying! - bloody hell I was holding my breath. |
Zed (Gary_mc)
Username: Gary_mc
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Tuesday, March 18, 2008 - 07:04 pm: | |
yes, the hand-tying got to me, too. I felt a bit uncomfortable reading that...sych a subtle chill, but an important one. |
Mark_lynch (Mark_lynch)
Username: Mark_lynch
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Thursday, March 20, 2008 - 06:34 pm: | |
I think looking for one specific representation of the recurring apple symbol is probably wrong in “Apples”. As Joel says, it’s a “does what it says on the tin” piece at first glance, and apples are linked to Hallowe’en celebrations, which was probably the starting point for this piece.
My first thought was that the children were the apples, and that the corruption of them by Mr Gray was shown in his own variety. His apples are sour and degenerate, mirroring his character and the corruption within himself.
But hey, let’s begin at the beginning. That opening line: “We wanted to be scared on Hallowe’en, but not like that.” It sets it up perfectly, doesn’t it? We get the kids’ voices, their relative naivety, and the notion that this trip is going to lead beyond that naivety into the flowering of wisdom at best, through whatever harsh test lies ahead. Possibly a test brought on by the kids themselves, in daring a thrill on Hallowe’en and it coming back to haunt them.
The wonderful but dread allure of Mr Gray is simply and effectively sketched. He’s working in the midnight allotment (and what sort of growth blooms with the earth turned from the sun?), likened to a candle, to which we’re attracted, and yet we’re repelled at the corruption of his nose dripping like wax.
“There are the children who can’t keep their hands off other people’s property.” Is Mr Gray really angry about this; or fastening in his neighbours’ minds the notion that he is in some way allowed to take his hands to the kids if he perceives they have taken their hands to what is rightfully his? After all, his accusations are directed at children who did not, initially, steal from him. Is it that children who are near at hand are more convenient for him?
Throughout the tale there’s a sense of adults being complicit in the children’s loss of innocence. For instance, the narrator’s mother provides opportunity for his crime of scrumping by sending him to buy cigarettes illegally from the shop owner, who is equally complicit in abetting this crime by letting him buy them. Later on there’s the matter of the tied hands, of course, Andrew’s father doing the tying.
Mr Gray’s first active appearance in the piece is terrifying. And of course it’s with a child in danger. He is bloated and pale – which description Ramsey utilises later in the bobbing apples section, when who knows what might be rising from the ducking water? – waving an apt but vicious weapon. Shears, which of course might be used to trim the branches on the apple trees, further reinforcing the suspicion that the apples represent the kids and his trimming of a branch is no different to him than the trimming of a child’s life.
“But I couldn’t get to sleep for thinking I heard him on the stairs.” Ah, one of Ramsey’s recurring images, the unseen presence mounting the stairs.
“Maybe he didn’t like kids because he was afraid of what he might do to them,” is an interesting line, showing there is room for self-delusion on the trip from childhood to adulthood, and that although the parents possess knowledge the children do not, they do not have the courage to face up to that knowledge in its entirety.
I’d second what others have been saying about the final imagery of the lad’s hair turning white, as a physical representation of the journey from innocence to wisdom. Because nothing is free; some price must always be paid; and here we have the rapid advancement of that leap from blooming innocence (the colours referred to about Andrew are usually red, like a healthy apple) to the generally accepted view that white hair is associated with the old.
A successful piece, at any rate, with Ramsey’s ability to induce dread and fear very much in evidence.
Questions for anyone who cares to ponder them:
Has Andrew planned the end of Mr Gray in advance, his time spent in the bonfire being in case he needed to run and trap Mr Gray behind him? Has he planned to lure Mr Gray to the party, by stealing the apples in the first place?
And what of Andrew’s discharges: might they not also be a symbol of his innocence; the only discharge his penis is capable of at such an age being urine and not semen? |
Mark_lynch (Mark_lynch)
Username: Mark_lynch
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Saturday, March 22, 2008 - 09:54 am: | |
Ahem. |
Joel (Joel)
Username: Joel
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Tuesday, March 25, 2008 - 12:19 pm: | |
Where not linked to a physical condition, incontinence is generally a sign of an underlying psychological disorder (such as neurotic anxiety). In Andrew's case there is definitely something the matter. He is very mature in some ways and quite infantile in others. I very much doubt whether he is innocent in any sense (other than, possibly, the sense that he has done nothing intentionally wrong).
We do rather tend to valorise 'innocence' and assume that the non-innocent are morally dubious. I think the innocent are more probably criminal than the non-innocent, as the latter know more about consequences. Children who understand nothing about the adult world are either sheltered, dim or both – hardly an ideal state.
As for Andrew, it's his lack of innocence that ultimately gives him power. |
Griff (Griff)
Username: Griff
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Wednesday, March 26, 2008 - 07:24 pm: | |
Out of interest how does Ramsey go about researching background material for a novel and how has this changed over time? |
Albie (Albie)
Username: Albie
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Saturday, March 29, 2008 - 12:30 pm: | |
I wonder what it was like in the Campbell household every Halloween. I wonder if his kids suffer with their nerves.
And sleep on beds without sheets...
And won't eat apples...
And stuff... |
Albie (Albie)
Username: Albie
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Saturday, March 29, 2008 - 12:32 pm: | |
Sheets. Pee. I wonder if this about bedwetting?
That's it. That's the Derren Brown trick of it. It's laden with subtle references to weeing the bed.
I reckon. |
Albie (Albie)
Username: Albie
Registered: 03-2008
| | Posted on Saturday, March 29, 2008 - 12:34 pm: | |
My Gray. As in gray sheets.
Apples. Cider looks like wee. |
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