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100 Ghastly Little Ghost Stories
Edited by Stefan Dziemianowicz, Robert
Weinberg and Martin H. Greenberg
Barnes and Noble Books, 546 pp, 1993
Barnes and Noble has done us horror fans
a wonderful service by publishing several of these 100 short story
books. I've read two others - 100
Hair Raising Little Horror Stories and
100 Vicious Little Vampire Stories - and they've published others, such
as 100
Menacing Little Murder Stories and 100
Wicked Little Witch Stories.
The previous two I'd read were great
(sorry, no reviews, I read them long before I started this site), and
happily for me this one is no different. Most of the stories are good,
with a few exceptional ones and the occasional stinker.
Let's get the stinkers out of the way
first. Oscar Wilde's "The Sphinx Without a Secret" is a story
without a ghost, or even a fright. Very disappointing from such a
talented writer. That is by far the worst story, so let's not dwell on
it.
"The Sixth Tree" shows promise
but suffers from a predictable ending, though it does offer a good
little moral about man's misplaced reliance on science and, by
extension, his own intelligence.
The best story was a much harder call,
but I nominate "The Night Caller" by G. L. Raisor. The first
line sets a wonderfully malignant tone: "Sherry Elder's descent
into madness began on a Thursday." The rest of the story is a
fast-paced masterpiece of implied doom and ominous overtones. The word
"ghost" isn't mentioned, nor is the identity of the
"ghost" stated, but the author makes it clear, regardless. The
story is so effective because the reader is free to make his own
conclusion.
But there are other fine stories.
"The Coat" is menacing, "Mandolin" touching and
endearing though it, like Wilde's story, doesn't have a ghost. "The
Metronome" is pure vengeance from a murdered child, and Fred
Chappell's "Miss Prue" deserves mention for its breathtaking
descriptive prose, such as these gems: "His eyes were like cinders
in the deep sockets. He seemed to belong more to the cool gray autumn
wind than to the world of animal flesh." "His voice was
windblown ash in a desert land." "She flicked her hand at the
question as if it were a tedious housefly." "His voice was
like the sound of wind in a ragged thornbush." Great stuff!
Finally, "Summerland" is
effective, due to its cynical tone toward séances and spiritualism, in
a subtle and understated way, and implies (again, without coming out and
stating it) the truth about where our souls go. Or, more specifically,
the soul of a man who rents out a decrepit house for the price of a
mansion.
The editors have compiled a treasury of
ghost stories, old and new, gothic to modern. No horror library is
complete without it.

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