Lawrence Sutin discusses ghost stories and Algernon Blackwood

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Listen: Lawrence Sutin commentary on ghost stories and Algernon Blackwood
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MPR’s Lawrence Sutin shares ghost stories, a remembrance for the late Algernon Blackwood and also reads excerpts from ‘The Wendigo’ by H. P. Lovecraft and M. R. James’ work, ‘The Old Man of Visions’.

Google Transcript:

(00:00:00) As Halloween is upon us my thoughts turn to ghost stories.
(00:00:04) I love them as a child and I love them still. Please understand that when I refer to ghost stories. I am excluding the modern blood and gore variety. The true ghost story is atmospheric as opposed to
(00:00:17) explicit. It creates in the psyche of the reader or
(00:00:20) listener the sense of a haunting of unseen lurking Spirits whose presence alone sends Terror through our bones the very best ghost stories ghost. Still further they dare to touch upon the mystical domains of being beyond our daily life on
(00:00:35) Earth the rates of the spirit Realms
(00:00:38) remind us that we too may be more than merely mortal and that the consequences of our actions May extend. Well past the grave
(00:00:46) there is a ghost story writer who should be
(00:00:48) better known to minnesotans because so many of his best stories are set in the northern Woodlands climate, which is our own in which possesses a uniquely ghostly atmosphere that this writer above all others.
(00:01:00) Has captured and thrilling detail.
(00:01:02) His name is Algernon Blackwood and I would wish to speak a few words in his memory. This Halloween Algernon Blackwood was
(00:01:10) born in England in 1869. He went to college but was never much for formal education
(00:01:16) and in his Young Manhood, he emigrated to Canada and
(00:01:19) knocked about trying out livelihoods as a farmer a prospector for gold and has a hotel proprietor. Then he took up journalism and served a stint as a reporter for the New York
(00:01:29) Times. Times it was not until
(00:01:31) 1906 at age 37 that he found his ultimate vocation as a writer of Ghostly and mystical Tales amongst. The best of these is the wendigo which takes his premise the Native American Myth of a voracious and pitiless spirit being who haunts the boreal forests of the north and reduces its victims to Madness that ends in death cold and Desperation are the weapons of the wendigo in the black wood version.
(00:01:58) It is the white newcomer.
(00:02:00) The Wilderness who succumb to the madness who suffered the burning anguish of the wendigos vengeance upon those who dare enter it
(00:02:07) solitudes Blackwood did for the northern Woodlands what Lovecraft did for the hills of Vermont and
(00:02:13) mr.james for the see sides of
(00:02:15) England. He lent a shape to the eeriness that
(00:02:18) Generations had felt and shuddered at
(00:02:21) and so he makes it possible for us to claim not only the beauties
(00:02:25) of the Northlands but also its fearsome challenge that besets us still. When the night's grow cold,
(00:02:32) but Blackwood was at root a gentle and
(00:02:34) contemplative soul
(00:02:36) and truth be told my favorite
(00:02:38) Blackwood story is the old man of Visions in which a lonely City dweller discovers a vital refuge and guide when he meets the old man of the title who lives in an attic and shares the secrets of his mystical wisdom, but
(00:02:51) only on the condition that the city
(00:02:53) dweller will keep the old man's existence a secret the old man is of course the city dwellers.
(00:03:00) Her
(00:03:00) most Soul which must be tended with care and revealed to the world with the uttermost subtlety and simplicity,
(00:03:06) but the city dweller cannot resist
(00:03:08) telling of the old man to Calais
(00:03:10) friends who only laugh at him and Blackwood ends the story with these words from that day to this the old man of Visions has neither called to me nor let his place be found. The streets are strange and empty and I have even lost the little shining
(00:03:27) key. Algernon
(00:03:29) Blackwood died 42 years ago, but his
(00:03:32) stories deserve to be remembered check
(00:03:35) out the ghost anthologies. You'll
(00:03:37) find him read him allowed this Halloween.

Transcripts

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SPEAKER: As Halloween is upon us, my thoughts turn to ghost stories. I loved them as a child, and I love them still. Please understand that when I refer to ghost stories, I am excluding the modern blood and gore variety. The true ghost story is atmospheric as opposed to explicit. It creates in the psyche of the reader or listener the sense of a haunting of unseen lurking spirits whose presence alone sends terror through our bones.

The very best ghost stories go still further. They dare to touch upon the mystical domains of being, beyond our daily life on Earth. The wraiths of the spirit realms remind us that we too may be more than merely mortal, and that the consequences of our actions may extend well past the grave.

There is a ghost story writer who should be better known to Minnesotans because so many of his best stories are set in the northern woodlands climate, which is our own, and which possesses a uniquely ghostly atmosphere that this writer, above all others, has captured in thrilling detail. His name is Algernon Blackwood. And I would wish to speak a few words in his memory this Halloween.

Algernon Blackwood was born in England in 1869. He went to college, but was never much for a formal education. And in his young manhood, he emigrated to Canada and knocked about trying out livelihoods as a farmer, a prospector for gold, and as a hotel proprietor. Then he took up journalism and served a stint as a reporter for the New York Times. It was not until 1906, at age 37, that he found his ultimate vocation as a writer of ghostly and mystical tales.

Amongst the best of these is The Wendigo, which takes as its premise the Native American myth of a voracious and pitiless spirit being who haunts the boreal forests of the north and reduces its victims to madness that ends in death. Cold and desperation are the weapons of the wendigo. In the Blackwood version, it is the White newcomers to the wilderness who succumb to the madness, who suffer the burning anguish of the wendigo's vengeance upon those who dare enter its solitudes.

Blackwood did for the northern woodlands what Lovecraft did for the hills of Vermont and MR James for the seasides of England. He lent a shape to the eeriness that generations had felt and shuddered at. And so he makes it possible for us to claim not only the beauties of the northlands, but also its fearsome challenge that besets us still when the nights grow cold.

But Blackwood was, at root, a gentle and contemplative soul. And truth be told, my favorite Blackwood story is "The Old Man of Visions," in which a lonely city dweller discovers a vital refuge and guide when he meets the old man of the title, who lives in an attic and shares the secrets of his mystical wisdom, but only on the condition that the city dweller will keep the old man's existence a secret.

The old man is, of course, the city dweller's innermost soul, which must be tended with care and revealed to the world with the utmost subtlety and simplicity. But the city dweller cannot resist telling of the old man to callous friends who only laugh at him. And Blackwood ends the story with these words.

"From that day to this, the old man of visions has neither called to me nor let his place be found. The streets are strange and empty. And I have even lost the little shining key." Algernon Blackwood died 42 years ago, but his stories deserve to be remembered. Check out the ghost anthologies. You'll find him. Read him aloud this Halloween.

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