The first thing to understand when analyzing this collection is that it is not a book of ghost stories written by Roald Dahl, but rather one with stories chosen by Roald Dahl. Some copies make this distinction slightly clearer with the addition of “Compiled by Roald Dahl” but even then ambiguity reigns. After all, who is to say that a book of ghost stories by Roald Dahl could not also be compiled by Roald Dahl. Kind of snake oily thing to do, marketing wise, but now you know.
So, then, the question becomes quite simple: is Dahl’s tastes as a reader as dependable as his taste as a writer. Or, put another way, if you are a fan of the fiction written by Dahl, will that translate into enjoying these ghost tales? And this is where analysis gets tricky because the reviewer is no longer unconstrained by the freedom to merely judge the quality of a group of stories entirely on their own merit, but must now apply that merit to the very specific lens of looking at it through eyes of a fan of Roald Dahl.
In his prefatory commentary on the backstory to compiling this collection, the single most essential and insightful quote is that “the best ghost stories don’t have ghosts in them. At least you don’t see the ghost. Instead you see only the result of his actions.” And therein lies the key to determining whether one will enjoy these stories to the point that Dahl felt compelled to choose them. Those looking for ghost stories where the ghost is the main character—as a haunted figure—will be disappointed. These are ghost stories in the tradition of The Turn of the Screw and Kubrick’s version of The Shining. It is the establishment of the creeping feeling of dread that is not quite explained and never quite certain that provides the horror so don’t curl up with this book in bed at night prepared to be scared into a sleepless night. On the other hand, it might not be a bad idea to prepare yourself for realizing you are mulling over certain stories several days after reading them.
These are the types of stories that penetrate into the subconscious like an musical earworm that starts playing again just when you wish it wouldn’t and that won’t let you stop thinking about. These are the type of ghost stories where arguably the most disquieting single thing in the entire book is the closing paragraph of Rosemary Temperley’s story, “Harry.” What makes the closing paragraph so unsettling is that it is also—word-for-word—the opening paragraph of the story. And it’s not even a particularly scary set of sentences:
“Such ordinary things make me afraid. Sunshine. Sharp shadows on grass. White roses. Children with red hair. And the name Harry. Such an ordinary name.”
The only difference between this opening paragraph and its recurrence at the end of the story is the period being replaced by an exclamation mark after “name.” The smallest, slightest, must subtle of editorial alternations, yet within the addition of that long line above a dot lies the much of what makes it—arguably—the creepiest passage of any story.
Unless, that is, one prefers the ending of “Playmates” which is invested with its own sort of The Shining-type sensibility of horror capable of raising goosebumps even out of context. “He paused, waiting. Then as he turned away he was aware of little caressing hands upon his arm. He looked around at once, but the time had not yet come for him to see.” Any ghost story that features the disembodied presence of children is almost automatically capable of creating shivers, be it laughter or the caress of their little hands.
This is precisely what Dahl means when he further expounds upon the significance of seeing the ghost, but experiencing the sensory sensation of “it brushing past you, or you are made aware of its presence by subtle means.” One doesn’t need to actually see the spectral evidence of long dead children run screaming form it in terror. One needs only to feel fingers playing with your hair on a park bench or whimpering in the basement of a house or, god forbid, laughing in an abandoned hospital. Not all these stories achieve what Dahl is looking for in stories where ghosts are not the leading characters, but the typical reader should be able to discover at least three or four out the fourteen ghost tales that Dahl deemed worthy of inclusion.
