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The Sea Change & Other Stories
In her first collection, award-winning author Helen Grant plumbs the depths of the uncanny. Ten fathoms down, where the light filtering through the salt water turns everything grey-green, something awaits unwary divers. A self-aggrandising art critic travelling in rural Slovakia finds love with a beauty half his age—and pays the price. In a small German town, a nocturnal visitor preys upon children; there is a way to keep it off—but the ritual must be perfect. A rock climber dares to scale a local crag with a diabolical reputation, and makes a shocking discovery at the top.
In each of these seven tales, unpleasantries and grotesqueries abound—and Grant reminds us with each one that there can be fates even worse than death.
Contents:
“Grauer Hans”
“The Sea Change”
“The Game of Bear”
“Self Catering”
“Nathair Dhubh”
“Alberic de Mauléon”
“The Calvary at Banská Bystrica”
In each of these seven tales, unpleasantries and grotesqueries abound—and Grant reminds us with each one that there can be fates even worse than death.
Contents:
“Grauer Hans”
“The Sea Change”
“The Game of Bear”
“Self Catering”
“Nathair Dhubh”
“Alberic de Mauléon”
“The Calvary at Banská Bystrica”
144 pages, Hardcover
First published February 1, 2013
About the author
Helen Grant
69 books199 followersHelen Grant has a passion for the Gothic and for ghost stories. Joyce Carol Oates has described her as 'a brilliant chronicler of the uncanny as only those who dwell in places of dripping, graylit beauty can be.' A lifelong fan of the ghost story writer M.R.James, she has spoken at two M.R.James conferences and appeared at the Dublin Ghost Story Festival. She lives in Perthshire with her family, and when not writing, she likes to explore abandoned country houses and swim in freezing lochs.
Helen's most recent novel Jump Cut was published by Fledgling Press in 2023.
Helen's most recent novel Jump Cut was published by Fledgling Press in 2023.
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
July 3, 2023
This poor book has been languishing on my shelves forever, until this past Wednesday when into my bag of books it went to read while we were away. I could absolutely kick myself for letting it sit for so long because it's so good that I picked it up and read it in one sitting. Now I'm wondering what other gems I've bought, shelved and forgotten.
full post is here:
http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2023...
As an example of how very good this collection of stories is, out of the seven phenomenal tales in this collection, there are two that I found to be absolutely striking: "Alberic de Mauléon" and my bottom-line favorite, "The Calvary at Banská Bystrica." The first, as the author says in the "Story Notes" section of the book, was her entry for a story competition in the M.R. James Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter. The challenge was to "write a prequel or sequel to an MRJ story." I unfortunately don't have a copy of the first volume of The Ghosts and Scholars Book of Shadows (Sarob, 2012) where this story was published along with those of the eleven other contest winners. "Alberic de Mauléon" is on the prequel side of the fence, in this case, to James' "Canon Alberic's Scrap-book," which I reread as soon as we returned home as a reminder. Highly original and very nicely done, I won't say more about it, except to say that the creep factor from the original is definitely here as well. Two friends talking together begins "The Calvary at Banská Bystrica," as the narrator details his search for his missing brother last seen in Slovakia. The brother, Robert Montague , had been "travelling around the Continent" until any word from him just stopped. The last time the narrator had heard from him was in the spring via "some letters and a card" from Banská Bystrica. Although they were not very close, the narrator reveals that his brother had written to tell him he was going to be married to a girl who had "some sort of job relating to tourism in the town." That was pretty much it for communications between the two, but when no one else had heard from him by that summer, the narrator decides that he needs to go look for him at the last place he'd mentioned. I will also keep mum on the action here, but the rest of the story is a stunning and absolutely chilling account of what happens as he begins his search.
Without the story notes (which you should definitely save until the end) and the acknowledgments, the reader is left with 136 pages in which the author delivers these seven brilliant and uncanny stories, no small feat in such a short amount of space. It is a gifted writer who can pull this off, but there's more. As the author writes at the Scottish Book Trust website, she often includes "elements of folklore, snippets of real history and atmospheric real life locations" in her work. She's done this in The Sea Change & Other Stories to great effect, imbuing her tales with a sense of place that amplifies the eerie atmosphere and growing sense of dread she builds slowly in each story.
I've never been disappointed with an offering from Swan River Press, and this book is no exception. It is of the highest quality, and I definitely and very highly recommend it to readers of the strange and the weird.
full post is here:
http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2023...
As an example of how very good this collection of stories is, out of the seven phenomenal tales in this collection, there are two that I found to be absolutely striking: "Alberic de Mauléon" and my bottom-line favorite, "The Calvary at Banská Bystrica." The first, as the author says in the "Story Notes" section of the book, was her entry for a story competition in the M.R. James Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter. The challenge was to "write a prequel or sequel to an MRJ story." I unfortunately don't have a copy of the first volume of The Ghosts and Scholars Book of Shadows (Sarob, 2012) where this story was published along with those of the eleven other contest winners. "Alberic de Mauléon" is on the prequel side of the fence, in this case, to James' "Canon Alberic's Scrap-book," which I reread as soon as we returned home as a reminder. Highly original and very nicely done, I won't say more about it, except to say that the creep factor from the original is definitely here as well. Two friends talking together begins "The Calvary at Banská Bystrica," as the narrator details his search for his missing brother last seen in Slovakia. The brother, Robert Montague , had been "travelling around the Continent" until any word from him just stopped. The last time the narrator had heard from him was in the spring via "some letters and a card" from Banská Bystrica. Although they were not very close, the narrator reveals that his brother had written to tell him he was going to be married to a girl who had "some sort of job relating to tourism in the town." That was pretty much it for communications between the two, but when no one else had heard from him by that summer, the narrator decides that he needs to go look for him at the last place he'd mentioned. I will also keep mum on the action here, but the rest of the story is a stunning and absolutely chilling account of what happens as he begins his search.
Without the story notes (which you should definitely save until the end) and the acknowledgments, the reader is left with 136 pages in which the author delivers these seven brilliant and uncanny stories, no small feat in such a short amount of space. It is a gifted writer who can pull this off, but there's more. As the author writes at the Scottish Book Trust website, she often includes "elements of folklore, snippets of real history and atmospheric real life locations" in her work. She's done this in The Sea Change & Other Stories to great effect, imbuing her tales with a sense of place that amplifies the eerie atmosphere and growing sense of dread she builds slowly in each story.
I've never been disappointed with an offering from Swan River Press, and this book is no exception. It is of the highest quality, and I definitely and very highly recommend it to readers of the strange and the weird.
October 10, 2020
Excellent stories influenced by traditional ghost stories, M.R. James (maybe also L.P. Hartley, at least one story for sure) and the Gothic tradition. Although Helen Grant is influenced by all those things her stories are highly original, modern and well-written. Highly recommended.
April 14, 2013
As a more-or-less regular reader of genre magazines like “All Hallows”, “Supernatural Tales” and “Ghosts & Scholars” (in its latest incarnation), I have had the pleasure of getting acquainted with Helen Grant’s storytelling abilities. Surprisingly, books written by her which had been available before this collection came out, were Young Adult novels. Those novels had their strange mix of gentle humour, subtle menace, and an overpowering feeling of darkness, that had shocked me when I had read them (because in my naïve mind, I had never associated such darkness with YA novels). However, in her short stories that style had a chilling effect that was rendered more effective because of the brevity of the stories, and certain ambiguities which short stories revel in leaving. From this perspective, this collection is a feast indeed!
I would be literally spoiling the pleasure of reading if I summarise the stories while mentioning them. Yet, I feel like writing about them! Let me try to strike a balance, as under:
1. Grauer Hans: this one was new for me, and I found the compact & smooth story to be positively menacing, esp. with the open ending!
2. The Sea Change: an old friend, and one that invokes such scary thoughts in the readers’ mind that would make any Lovecraft-wannabes go green in envy.
3. The Game of Bear: another old friend, and a positively fright-inducing completion of an unfinished draft left by MRJ.
4. Self-Catering: a new story (for me) which I found to be absolutely brilliant in its narration, the characters (just read their names!), the deliberate infusion of humour into macabre, and its conclusion. Wonderful stuff!
5. Nathair Dhubh: read it long ago, and yet remembered every event of the climb with a tingling sensation along the spine. Authentic stuff that brings some of the very best stories written by stalwarts like Benson & Wakefield to mind.
6. Alberic de Mauleon: a delicious prequel to one of the most famous MRJ stories, and one which I had read recently in the “Ghosts & Scholars: Book of Shadows”.
7. The Calvary at Banska Bystrica: the topper, undoubtedly! A grim story full of nuances and a darkness that intensified as we undertook the physical & spiritual journey with the narrator.
Swan River Press continues its journey in providing us with some of the finest (& amongst the best-looking as well) books of stories of supernatural. And I pray to the overlords of literary heaven that they keep providing Helen Grant with flashes which might provoke her into taking breaks from YA novels, and unleash stories like these! Recommended in the highest possible terms.
I would be literally spoiling the pleasure of reading if I summarise the stories while mentioning them. Yet, I feel like writing about them! Let me try to strike a balance, as under:
1. Grauer Hans: this one was new for me, and I found the compact & smooth story to be positively menacing, esp. with the open ending!
2. The Sea Change: an old friend, and one that invokes such scary thoughts in the readers’ mind that would make any Lovecraft-wannabes go green in envy.
3. The Game of Bear: another old friend, and a positively fright-inducing completion of an unfinished draft left by MRJ.
4. Self-Catering: a new story (for me) which I found to be absolutely brilliant in its narration, the characters (just read their names!), the deliberate infusion of humour into macabre, and its conclusion. Wonderful stuff!
5. Nathair Dhubh: read it long ago, and yet remembered every event of the climb with a tingling sensation along the spine. Authentic stuff that brings some of the very best stories written by stalwarts like Benson & Wakefield to mind.
6. Alberic de Mauleon: a delicious prequel to one of the most famous MRJ stories, and one which I had read recently in the “Ghosts & Scholars: Book of Shadows”.
7. The Calvary at Banska Bystrica: the topper, undoubtedly! A grim story full of nuances and a darkness that intensified as we undertook the physical & spiritual journey with the narrator.
Swan River Press continues its journey in providing us with some of the finest (& amongst the best-looking as well) books of stories of supernatural. And I pray to the overlords of literary heaven that they keep providing Helen Grant with flashes which might provoke her into taking breaks from YA novels, and unleash stories like these! Recommended in the highest possible terms.
October 17, 2018
The Sea Change & Other Stories is the first book I’ve read by Helen Grant. I knew she was heavily influenced by M.R. James, the Gothic tradition and more traditional ghost stories, and in this collection, she uses all of those influences and turns them into some truly memorable strange tales.
All the stories here were good, but the standout tales in this collection for me was:
The Sea Change, where we follow an experienced diver’s descent into something strange and horrifying as he finds an old shipwreck outside the coast of England. There is something really terrifying and claustrophobic about the way Grant describes the murky waters of the English coast.
The Game of Bear, the tale of an old acquaintance, plagued by a cousin who keeps sending him strange gifts and trying to gain influence over his life. This tale reads as a delightful mixture of M.R. James and Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House. (This is actually an unfinished M.R. James tale which Grant has expertly finished according to the story notes at the end of the book.)
Alberic de Maulèon, a tense and atmospheric prequel to M.R. James’ wonderful Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook, Grant knows her subject here, and the story of the infamous scrapbook came to be, is both sad and dreadful.
The book finishes off with a selection of notes on each of the stories, bits of information about the setting and inspiration on each of the tales, which was very interesting to read.
Helen Grant’s tales come out of the thickest of fog from the 1800s, steeped in the influence of M.R. James and the Gothic tradition, Grant shows that many of the best tricks of the trade are not only timeless but are genuinely creepy in the hands of a wonderful storyteller like herself. Her prose is deliberate and evocative, and she has a remarkable way of hinting at the sinister and supernatural without giving anything away, preserving and savoring the dreadful feeling of uncertainty and fear.
All the stories here were good, but the standout tales in this collection for me was:
The Sea Change, where we follow an experienced diver’s descent into something strange and horrifying as he finds an old shipwreck outside the coast of England. There is something really terrifying and claustrophobic about the way Grant describes the murky waters of the English coast.
The Game of Bear, the tale of an old acquaintance, plagued by a cousin who keeps sending him strange gifts and trying to gain influence over his life. This tale reads as a delightful mixture of M.R. James and Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House. (This is actually an unfinished M.R. James tale which Grant has expertly finished according to the story notes at the end of the book.)
Alberic de Maulèon, a tense and atmospheric prequel to M.R. James’ wonderful Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook, Grant knows her subject here, and the story of the infamous scrapbook came to be, is both sad and dreadful.
The book finishes off with a selection of notes on each of the stories, bits of information about the setting and inspiration on each of the tales, which was very interesting to read.
Helen Grant’s tales come out of the thickest of fog from the 1800s, steeped in the influence of M.R. James and the Gothic tradition, Grant shows that many of the best tricks of the trade are not only timeless but are genuinely creepy in the hands of a wonderful storyteller like herself. Her prose is deliberate and evocative, and she has a remarkable way of hinting at the sinister and supernatural without giving anything away, preserving and savoring the dreadful feeling of uncertainty and fear.
September 17, 2023
Excellent collection of strange stories in the tradition of M. R. James by a noted Jamesian. Helen Grant eschews the cheap shocks of much contemporary horror writing in favour of the creeping unease of things half-seen in the shadows and the unsettling consequences of meddling with forces best left undisturbed. Two stories are directly inspired by the work of the master: The Game of Bear is a chilling expansion of an unfinished fragment of a story found in James’s papers and which won a competition in the Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter to complete the story; and Alberic de Mauleon is a brilliant prequel to Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook. There’s not a weak story in the collection but three deserve special mention: the title story, a claustrophobic and distressing tale of a diver who awakens something unpleasant on an ancient wreck; Nathair Dhubh, an atmospheric story of a mysterious and nebulous presence in the mountains, and for my money, the best story in the book, The Calvary at Banska Bystric, which is as close to a perfect ghost story as it’s possible to get.
July 30, 2013
The dust jacket illustration perfectly captures the mood of the title story. A solitary figure stands, head bowed, in a small boat. The waves are choppy, there are grey crags, and the general mood is sombre. There is nothing overtly horrific, but much is implied. And that sums up the appeal of most of the seven tales here - the horrors we do not see, but are aware of, are much more effective than those showily displayed in less subtle stories.
Of the stories on offer, my favourite is 'The Sea Change'. Well, I would say that, as it first appeared in ST. I've always liked nautical spookery, especially when things are not over-explained (a serious flaw with some traditional ghost story authors, it must be said). I also like a story with clean lines, and this one is very simple. A diver becomes obsessed with what seems to be the wreck of an ancient ship on the seabed. The diver spends more and more time underwater at the wreck site - indeed, he eventually stays under for times that are, for all practical purposes, impossible. The end is inevitable. But what has really happened and why? The key to the tale's power is that nothing can be said about the true nature of the mystery. To seek to understand it would be to invite destruction.
Two stories are based on ideas by M.R. James, and were written for Ghosts & Scholars competitions. 'The Game of Bear' is a solid attempt to finish a story that James barely started. It uses typical Jamesian ingredients - disputed inheritance, country house, an unpleasant relation who dabbles in black magic. It also offers a monster or 'Thing' that, like the best of James' terrors, is only vaguely glimpsed rather than clearly described. 'Alberic de Mauléon', by contrast, takes the Canon Alberic of scrapbook fame and gives us an interesting insight into his somewhat complex career. Suffice to say that it offers a genuinely startling take on the original plot - a good example of 'What if?' writing.
Also Jamesian in content, and jolly enough in tone to please the Provost himself, is 'Self Catering'. This reminded me slightly of R. Chetwynd-Hayes' grim whimsies. In her novels Helen Grant often leavens horror with humour, and she has an admirable lightness of touch as well as a clean, uncluttered prose style.
By way of contrast, 'Nathair Dhubh' is a cold, stark tale of two friends who, back in the Thirties, climbed a pinnacle or stack in the Scottish Highlands. In tone and content it reminds me very much of 'The White Sack' by A.N.L. Munby, which is a good thing as that old story is the genuine article. The main difference is that Malden's menace pursues its prey, while Nathair Dhubh harbours an unseen entity that, spider-like, reels in its prey. The story illustrates how to write effective horror without showing a monster or a hint of gore, while at the same time leaving the reader in no doubt that something terrible and malign lurks just out of sight.
'Grauer Hans' is very different, swapping the stark romanticism of granite crags for the domestic terrors of childhood. This is a tale of a bogeyman that seeks to consume small children. The power of folk beliefs and the effectiveness - or otherwise - of nursery rhymes preoccupy the author and the reader. It is, again, very straightforward. We know that bogeymen cannot be dealt with with weapons and the like, we know they will always return. Here is the darkly cobwebbed magic of early fairytales - the kind you wouldn't read to small children today. Here also is the fear that the loss of traditional wisdom exposes us to terrors we cannot quite believe in, yet have not quite forgotten.
Rounding off the collection, 'The Calvary at Banská Bystrica' is a modern quasi-vampire tale (I'm not entirely sure what is really going on). A pompous English writer vanishes in central Europe after becoming engaged to a beautiful young woman in an obscure village. We sense early on that the writer's put-upon brother will not be able to retrieve him. Here, as in 'The Sea Change' and 'Nathair Dhubh', Grant has the decisive and (presumably) horrific action take place off-stage so to speak, leaving us to explore the aftermath. True horror cannot be shown because it can never be truly described to any third party. But a few deft touches can hint at a great deal.
All in all, then, this is a fine collection, made all the more admirable by an excellent cover, and of course Swan River's all-round high quality production standards.
Of the stories on offer, my favourite is 'The Sea Change'. Well, I would say that, as it first appeared in ST. I've always liked nautical spookery, especially when things are not over-explained (a serious flaw with some traditional ghost story authors, it must be said). I also like a story with clean lines, and this one is very simple. A diver becomes obsessed with what seems to be the wreck of an ancient ship on the seabed. The diver spends more and more time underwater at the wreck site - indeed, he eventually stays under for times that are, for all practical purposes, impossible. The end is inevitable. But what has really happened and why? The key to the tale's power is that nothing can be said about the true nature of the mystery. To seek to understand it would be to invite destruction.
Two stories are based on ideas by M.R. James, and were written for Ghosts & Scholars competitions. 'The Game of Bear' is a solid attempt to finish a story that James barely started. It uses typical Jamesian ingredients - disputed inheritance, country house, an unpleasant relation who dabbles in black magic. It also offers a monster or 'Thing' that, like the best of James' terrors, is only vaguely glimpsed rather than clearly described. 'Alberic de Mauléon', by contrast, takes the Canon Alberic of scrapbook fame and gives us an interesting insight into his somewhat complex career. Suffice to say that it offers a genuinely startling take on the original plot - a good example of 'What if?' writing.
Also Jamesian in content, and jolly enough in tone to please the Provost himself, is 'Self Catering'. This reminded me slightly of R. Chetwynd-Hayes' grim whimsies. In her novels Helen Grant often leavens horror with humour, and she has an admirable lightness of touch as well as a clean, uncluttered prose style.
By way of contrast, 'Nathair Dhubh' is a cold, stark tale of two friends who, back in the Thirties, climbed a pinnacle or stack in the Scottish Highlands. In tone and content it reminds me very much of 'The White Sack' by A.N.L. Munby, which is a good thing as that old story is the genuine article. The main difference is that Malden's menace pursues its prey, while Nathair Dhubh harbours an unseen entity that, spider-like, reels in its prey. The story illustrates how to write effective horror without showing a monster or a hint of gore, while at the same time leaving the reader in no doubt that something terrible and malign lurks just out of sight.
'Grauer Hans' is very different, swapping the stark romanticism of granite crags for the domestic terrors of childhood. This is a tale of a bogeyman that seeks to consume small children. The power of folk beliefs and the effectiveness - or otherwise - of nursery rhymes preoccupy the author and the reader. It is, again, very straightforward. We know that bogeymen cannot be dealt with with weapons and the like, we know they will always return. Here is the darkly cobwebbed magic of early fairytales - the kind you wouldn't read to small children today. Here also is the fear that the loss of traditional wisdom exposes us to terrors we cannot quite believe in, yet have not quite forgotten.
Rounding off the collection, 'The Calvary at Banská Bystrica' is a modern quasi-vampire tale (I'm not entirely sure what is really going on). A pompous English writer vanishes in central Europe after becoming engaged to a beautiful young woman in an obscure village. We sense early on that the writer's put-upon brother will not be able to retrieve him. Here, as in 'The Sea Change' and 'Nathair Dhubh', Grant has the decisive and (presumably) horrific action take place off-stage so to speak, leaving us to explore the aftermath. True horror cannot be shown because it can never be truly described to any third party. But a few deft touches can hint at a great deal.
All in all, then, this is a fine collection, made all the more admirable by an excellent cover, and of course Swan River's all-round high quality production standards.
May 17, 2022
Helen Grant is one of my favourite contemporary authors of eerie, unsettling novels of the supernatural, so I was excited to receive a copy of The Sea Change and other stories, a collection of short fiction originally published in 2013 and now available in paperback.
There are seven stories in the collection, all of them with an unnerving edge. For chills, Helen Grant's work often relies as much on the implied and imagined as it does on what she chooses to describe, and these stories are a masterclass in knowing what to leave out.
The title story, for example, in which a happy-go-lucky diver starts to be strangely affected by his time in the water, succeeds precisely because we don't see whatever it is that lurks in the depths. In The Game of Bear, the horror that scuttles through the corridors of the home of the narrator's old friend Henry Purdue is a person-sized 'thing' that has a lurching gait and 'something odd about its limbs - either there were too many joints or some of them bent the wrong way [...] with the ends of the limbs scrabbling energetically at the walls'. We don't know how many limbs there are, what is at the 'ends' or what the creature's face looks like, but frankly, it's much creepier because we don't. The sense of disconnection and unnaturalness - the sheer wrongness of the thing - is made more powerful by its mystery.
The Game of Bear is one of two stories here with a connection to the great MR James, and was inspired by the opening fragments of a story begun by James but never finished. The other is Alberic De Mauléon, a prequel to James`s classic story, Canon Alberic`s Scrap-Book. Both do absolute justice to James and are remarkably true to his style and technique without ever feeling like pastiche.
If you`re even slightly familiar with German folklore and fairy tales, you`ll be aware that these are packed to the sinister rafters with hideous creatures that terrorise children, and this is very much the premise of Grauer Hans, in which a woman is haunted by a strangely insidious, duplicitous figure who can only be warded off with a strange song - if you can remember the words. It`s a truly frightening tale of a vile creature intent on luring away children from their bedrooms, but it`s more than that: it`s also a reflection of the nagging anxiety that almost every mother feels over the need to keep their children safe. When the narrator`s toddler happily beams at the jolly figure who appears at her window, the narrator realises she has no way of warning the child about what he really is - in that sense, Grauer Hans is almost akin to those smiling strangers we were all told to run away from as children if they offered to show us some puppies.
Other tales in the collection include Self-Catering, a comic tale of a pompous man with a fondness for classic horror and a bitter grudge against his boorish colleague that takes an unexpectedly dark turn; Nathair Dhubh, in which an anxious, panicked tension builds as a climber loses sight of the companion roped to him when a sudden fog engulfs a Scottish mountain peak; and The Calvary at Banská Bystrica, an ominous story of a pompous art critic who comes to a horrific end when a young woman takes him to see an apocalyptic fresco in a hilltop church. This last story might be my favourite of them all, although there isn't a dud among them: each is a meticulously crafted tale or terror.
The inherent challenge of a short story is building atmosphere and establishing characters, without the luxury of 300 pages to play with - plus, the plot of a short story really has nowhere to hide. The short story writers I most admire are the ones who can build and maintain momentum and paint a complete picture in this disciplined and somewhat unforgiving form: pleasingly, this collection really does deliver. There's a strong sense of locale in each story, which is particularly notable in Nathair Dhubh and The Calvary at Banská Bystrica, and the whole collection is quietly impactful in that memorably uncanny manner of the best supernatural fiction.
There are seven stories in the collection, all of them with an unnerving edge. For chills, Helen Grant's work often relies as much on the implied and imagined as it does on what she chooses to describe, and these stories are a masterclass in knowing what to leave out.
The title story, for example, in which a happy-go-lucky diver starts to be strangely affected by his time in the water, succeeds precisely because we don't see whatever it is that lurks in the depths. In The Game of Bear, the horror that scuttles through the corridors of the home of the narrator's old friend Henry Purdue is a person-sized 'thing' that has a lurching gait and 'something odd about its limbs - either there were too many joints or some of them bent the wrong way [...] with the ends of the limbs scrabbling energetically at the walls'. We don't know how many limbs there are, what is at the 'ends' or what the creature's face looks like, but frankly, it's much creepier because we don't. The sense of disconnection and unnaturalness - the sheer wrongness of the thing - is made more powerful by its mystery.
The Game of Bear is one of two stories here with a connection to the great MR James, and was inspired by the opening fragments of a story begun by James but never finished. The other is Alberic De Mauléon, a prequel to James`s classic story, Canon Alberic`s Scrap-Book. Both do absolute justice to James and are remarkably true to his style and technique without ever feeling like pastiche.
If you`re even slightly familiar with German folklore and fairy tales, you`ll be aware that these are packed to the sinister rafters with hideous creatures that terrorise children, and this is very much the premise of Grauer Hans, in which a woman is haunted by a strangely insidious, duplicitous figure who can only be warded off with a strange song - if you can remember the words. It`s a truly frightening tale of a vile creature intent on luring away children from their bedrooms, but it`s more than that: it`s also a reflection of the nagging anxiety that almost every mother feels over the need to keep their children safe. When the narrator`s toddler happily beams at the jolly figure who appears at her window, the narrator realises she has no way of warning the child about what he really is - in that sense, Grauer Hans is almost akin to those smiling strangers we were all told to run away from as children if they offered to show us some puppies.
Other tales in the collection include Self-Catering, a comic tale of a pompous man with a fondness for classic horror and a bitter grudge against his boorish colleague that takes an unexpectedly dark turn; Nathair Dhubh, in which an anxious, panicked tension builds as a climber loses sight of the companion roped to him when a sudden fog engulfs a Scottish mountain peak; and The Calvary at Banská Bystrica, an ominous story of a pompous art critic who comes to a horrific end when a young woman takes him to see an apocalyptic fresco in a hilltop church. This last story might be my favourite of them all, although there isn't a dud among them: each is a meticulously crafted tale or terror.
The inherent challenge of a short story is building atmosphere and establishing characters, without the luxury of 300 pages to play with - plus, the plot of a short story really has nowhere to hide. The short story writers I most admire are the ones who can build and maintain momentum and paint a complete picture in this disciplined and somewhat unforgiving form: pleasingly, this collection really does deliver. There's a strong sense of locale in each story, which is particularly notable in Nathair Dhubh and The Calvary at Banská Bystrica, and the whole collection is quietly impactful in that memorably uncanny manner of the best supernatural fiction.
March 14, 2022
Part nostalgia-campfire yarn, part terrifying fairy tale, [the] opening story sets the mood of Helen Grant’s The Sea Change and Other Stories: one of skulking dread and growing paranoia...read the rest of the review on Ginger Nuts of Horror
January 18, 2021
This book as a whole is remarkable, any passing weaknesses forgotten for the ever-lasting memories, I am sure, of its many strengths.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here.
Above is one of its observations at the time of the review.
The detailed review of this book posted elsewhere under my name is too long or impractical to post here.
Above is one of its observations at the time of the review.
January 6, 2019
WARNING FOR SLIGHT SPOILERS
A collection of contemporary and enigmatic ghost stories, strongly reminiscent of MR James, but though thoroughly British in tone, comprising a diverse range of times and places.
Firstly, rather than go through the outlines for the seven tales contained herein, I’ll let the official Swan River Press blurb do the talking, as that more than hints at the spooky pleasures to come:
'In her first collection, award-winning author Helen Grant plumbs the depths of the uncanny: Ten fathoms down, where the light filtering through the salt water turns everything grey-green, something awaits unwary divers. A self-aggrandising art critic travelling in rural Slovakia finds love with a beauty half his age – and pays the price. In a small, German town, a nocturnal visitor preys upon children; there is a way to keep it off – but the ritual must be perfect. A rock climber dares to scale a local crag with a diabolical reputation and makes a shocking discovery at the top. In each of these seven tales, unpleasantries and grotesqueries abound – and Grant reminds us with each one that there can be fates even worse than death.'
I first encountered one-time YA author Helen Grant in the mid-1990s as part of what at the time was referred to in ghost story circles as the ‘James Gang’. This was a particular group of writers, unofficially bracketed together, who were strongly influenced by the writings of MR James. Those unfamiliar with the fiction of Montague Rhodes James (1862-1936) – and if there are any, shame on you! – should be advised that he was one of the defining architects of the modern English ghost story, writing in a scholarly tone but with a deadpan wit, and building most of his tales around antiquarian interests: old country churches, archaeological digs and the discovery of ancient objects such as manuscripts, urns and whistles, and yet infusing it all with a sense of creeping dread as some malignant supernatural force invariaby closes on an unwitting and yet nervous protagonist, the eventual outcome often gruesome and violent.
Again, for the uninitiated, classic MR James tales include Oh, Whistle and I’ll Come to You, My Lad, A Warning to the Curious and Casting the Runes (later filmed as Night of the Demon).
Though clearly immersed in this signal ghost story culture, Helen Grant was nevertheless one of the subtlest of the James Gang’s practitioners, serving up a succession of scary tales rich in Jamesian atmosphere but quite often with endings where an Aickmanesque degree of ambiguity left the reader thinking long and hard rather than flipping straight on to the next tale.
The Sea Change, her sole collection of weird tales to date, is a perfect illustration of this.
As I mentioned previously, there is a range of interesting locations here. The title story itself takes us scuba-diving off the Dorset Coast, The Calvary at Banska Bystrica to an eerie village in the Balkans and Alberic de Mauleon to a beautiful medieval town in the heart of rural France, while Grauer Hans moves back and forth between Cologne and Birmingham.
We also jump about amid the time zones. Some of the stories are set now, but Nathair Dhubh is set between the wars, while Alberic de Mauleon occurs in the 1680s and The Game of Bear takes us back to James’s own era, the early days of the 20th century.
Despite this, the spirit of MR James is palpable throughout, the stories often drawing on local folklore, and in each case the sense of terror slowly deepening for reasons that may prove elusive (though it’s usually because the writing is so clever). In Nathair Dhubh, for example, a lone climber ascends a pinnacle of rock through veils of unnatural fog, desperate to get to the top and safety, despite his growing conviction, which we readers share, that he’s going to find something deeply unpleasant when he does. In Self Catering, though on the surface it’s light-hearted, we’re left in no doubt from the start that oddball travel agent Cornelius von Teufel will prove to be more than just a comedy walk-on, and that ‘hero’ Edward Larkin is walking blindly towards complete disaster.
All of this is due in no small part to the atmosphere Helen Grant manages to evoke with a few, well-chosen words, because these stories are nothing if not crisp and succinct. And at no stage does she hit us with anything ‘on the nose’. For example, I doubt that British coastal waters have ever been murkier or more menacing than in The Sea Change, when a pair of sports divers chance them in order to explore a previously uncharted wreck. Grant doesn’t bother to tell us that this is a really bad idea; we can feel it in our bones as they descend through the salty gloom. While in The Calvary at Banska Bystrica, one of the strongest stories in the book, in my opinion (though they are all strong), a lone traveller climbs a steep, overgrown hillside in searingly hot sunshine, passing a series of empty display cases where the Stations of the Cross once stood, determined to reach the mysteriously abandoned church at the top. Once again, the author’s understated style is so effective that the atmosphere of evil becomes overwhelming long before he reaches his target, and yet it’s difficult to pin down exactly why.
But it’s not just about the scares.
Helen Grant is a genuinely intelligent writer. Two of the stories in the book do more than pay homage to MR James. The Game of Bear, for example, is an official continuation of a half-written story by James himself, which was only discovered in relatively recent times by James expert, Rosemary Pardoe. This particular job has been tackled before by two other writers of considerable note, Reggie Oliver and CE Ward, but in The Sea Change, it is Helen Grant’s interpretation of what might have happened in the second half of the story, which proves beyond doubt that she was a student of the old master as well as a fan.
In addition, in Alberic de Mauleon, Grant give us a prequel to another original James story, Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook. Despite this, it works as a perfect stand-alone, though I’m not saying you won’t be sufficiently fascinated to go and look for the ‘follow-up’ (if you haven’t already read it).
It’s also worth noting that Helen Grant is not the kind of writer who simply delights in making us jump. I suspect that none of the stories in the The Sea Change would ever have been written if she hadn’t been using them, perhaps subliminally, to work out some intriguing subtexts.
Grauer Hans, for example, another very accomplished story, is on the surface the tale of a personal haunting, but is also a meditation on the effects of age as our youthful hopes and dreams are gradually eroded by bitter reality, The Sea Change examines the destructive power of obsession, while The Calvary at Banska Bystrica doesn’t just sermonise about personal responsibility, but warns about the dangers of getting too absorbed in one’s work (and there’s a bit of an in-joke there, I think).
Anyway, enough of my longwinded blather. Suffice to say that The Sea Change is a superb collection of concise and thought-provoking tales. They also happen to be deeply chilling and possess an intellectual appeal that goes beyond the Jamesian school in which they were spawned. Seriously, what more could you ask from a bunch of ghost stories?
A collection of contemporary and enigmatic ghost stories, strongly reminiscent of MR James, but though thoroughly British in tone, comprising a diverse range of times and places.
Firstly, rather than go through the outlines for the seven tales contained herein, I’ll let the official Swan River Press blurb do the talking, as that more than hints at the spooky pleasures to come:
'In her first collection, award-winning author Helen Grant plumbs the depths of the uncanny: Ten fathoms down, where the light filtering through the salt water turns everything grey-green, something awaits unwary divers. A self-aggrandising art critic travelling in rural Slovakia finds love with a beauty half his age – and pays the price. In a small, German town, a nocturnal visitor preys upon children; there is a way to keep it off – but the ritual must be perfect. A rock climber dares to scale a local crag with a diabolical reputation and makes a shocking discovery at the top. In each of these seven tales, unpleasantries and grotesqueries abound – and Grant reminds us with each one that there can be fates even worse than death.'
I first encountered one-time YA author Helen Grant in the mid-1990s as part of what at the time was referred to in ghost story circles as the ‘James Gang’. This was a particular group of writers, unofficially bracketed together, who were strongly influenced by the writings of MR James. Those unfamiliar with the fiction of Montague Rhodes James (1862-1936) – and if there are any, shame on you! – should be advised that he was one of the defining architects of the modern English ghost story, writing in a scholarly tone but with a deadpan wit, and building most of his tales around antiquarian interests: old country churches, archaeological digs and the discovery of ancient objects such as manuscripts, urns and whistles, and yet infusing it all with a sense of creeping dread as some malignant supernatural force invariaby closes on an unwitting and yet nervous protagonist, the eventual outcome often gruesome and violent.
Again, for the uninitiated, classic MR James tales include Oh, Whistle and I’ll Come to You, My Lad, A Warning to the Curious and Casting the Runes (later filmed as Night of the Demon).
Though clearly immersed in this signal ghost story culture, Helen Grant was nevertheless one of the subtlest of the James Gang’s practitioners, serving up a succession of scary tales rich in Jamesian atmosphere but quite often with endings where an Aickmanesque degree of ambiguity left the reader thinking long and hard rather than flipping straight on to the next tale.
The Sea Change, her sole collection of weird tales to date, is a perfect illustration of this.
As I mentioned previously, there is a range of interesting locations here. The title story itself takes us scuba-diving off the Dorset Coast, The Calvary at Banska Bystrica to an eerie village in the Balkans and Alberic de Mauleon to a beautiful medieval town in the heart of rural France, while Grauer Hans moves back and forth between Cologne and Birmingham.
We also jump about amid the time zones. Some of the stories are set now, but Nathair Dhubh is set between the wars, while Alberic de Mauleon occurs in the 1680s and The Game of Bear takes us back to James’s own era, the early days of the 20th century.
Despite this, the spirit of MR James is palpable throughout, the stories often drawing on local folklore, and in each case the sense of terror slowly deepening for reasons that may prove elusive (though it’s usually because the writing is so clever). In Nathair Dhubh, for example, a lone climber ascends a pinnacle of rock through veils of unnatural fog, desperate to get to the top and safety, despite his growing conviction, which we readers share, that he’s going to find something deeply unpleasant when he does. In Self Catering, though on the surface it’s light-hearted, we’re left in no doubt from the start that oddball travel agent Cornelius von Teufel will prove to be more than just a comedy walk-on, and that ‘hero’ Edward Larkin is walking blindly towards complete disaster.
All of this is due in no small part to the atmosphere Helen Grant manages to evoke with a few, well-chosen words, because these stories are nothing if not crisp and succinct. And at no stage does she hit us with anything ‘on the nose’. For example, I doubt that British coastal waters have ever been murkier or more menacing than in The Sea Change, when a pair of sports divers chance them in order to explore a previously uncharted wreck. Grant doesn’t bother to tell us that this is a really bad idea; we can feel it in our bones as they descend through the salty gloom. While in The Calvary at Banska Bystrica, one of the strongest stories in the book, in my opinion (though they are all strong), a lone traveller climbs a steep, overgrown hillside in searingly hot sunshine, passing a series of empty display cases where the Stations of the Cross once stood, determined to reach the mysteriously abandoned church at the top. Once again, the author’s understated style is so effective that the atmosphere of evil becomes overwhelming long before he reaches his target, and yet it’s difficult to pin down exactly why.
But it’s not just about the scares.
Helen Grant is a genuinely intelligent writer. Two of the stories in the book do more than pay homage to MR James. The Game of Bear, for example, is an official continuation of a half-written story by James himself, which was only discovered in relatively recent times by James expert, Rosemary Pardoe. This particular job has been tackled before by two other writers of considerable note, Reggie Oliver and CE Ward, but in The Sea Change, it is Helen Grant’s interpretation of what might have happened in the second half of the story, which proves beyond doubt that she was a student of the old master as well as a fan.
In addition, in Alberic de Mauleon, Grant give us a prequel to another original James story, Canon Alberic’s Scrapbook. Despite this, it works as a perfect stand-alone, though I’m not saying you won’t be sufficiently fascinated to go and look for the ‘follow-up’ (if you haven’t already read it).
It’s also worth noting that Helen Grant is not the kind of writer who simply delights in making us jump. I suspect that none of the stories in the The Sea Change would ever have been written if she hadn’t been using them, perhaps subliminally, to work out some intriguing subtexts.
Grauer Hans, for example, another very accomplished story, is on the surface the tale of a personal haunting, but is also a meditation on the effects of age as our youthful hopes and dreams are gradually eroded by bitter reality, The Sea Change examines the destructive power of obsession, while The Calvary at Banska Bystrica doesn’t just sermonise about personal responsibility, but warns about the dangers of getting too absorbed in one’s work (and there’s a bit of an in-joke there, I think).
Anyway, enough of my longwinded blather. Suffice to say that The Sea Change is a superb collection of concise and thought-provoking tales. They also happen to be deeply chilling and possess an intellectual appeal that goes beyond the Jamesian school in which they were spawned. Seriously, what more could you ask from a bunch of ghost stories?
April 12, 2022
Originally posted on Just Geeking by.
Content warnings:
The Sea Change & Other Stories is Grant’s debut collection, featuring seven short stories that were written for contests and other publications. There’s a lovely little “Story Notes” section at the back of the book which was a fascinating read. I love when authors include these notes about short stories as they give you so much insight about the stories which I personally find adds a deeper dynamic to the stories. It was very interesting to read about how each of these stories were created and for what reason, especially as I had no idea about some of the origins of some of them.
Here are my thoughts on each of the individual stories.
Grauer Hans
In a town in Germany a woman looks back on her childhood, recalling the bedtime ritual of her mother singing her a lullaby. As she got older she began to recognise that it was the same one, and as children are wont to do, they question such things. All the while she’s aware of an odd creature visiting the house each night, a sweet looking thing that doesn’t alarm her nearly as much as her mother’s odd responses when she begins to ask about the lullaby. Grant builds up the atmosphere in this suitably creepy fairytale-esque horror story as the narrator takes us through the events over a few years, but the real creep factor doesn’t hit until the very end. That’s when Grant hits you with the true horror of the story.
The Sea Change
Starting relatively normal, a woman goes on a dive with a partner that owns a dive shop. It’s clear from the start that something is going to happen as the narrator is dropping hints to the reader, and emphasising that the man’s attitude was completely unique to him. I liked the way that Grant drew on her own experiences as a diver to write this story, especially to use the murkiness of the water to create the sensation of something dark and dangerous. The idea of not being able to see clearly underwater verses being able to do so else where in the world adds a distinct gothic feeling that is very specific to British horror.
Naturally, something happens on the dive and her partner starts to act oddly. He starts taking dives on his own, which is a big no-no in the diving world. The entire story is from the perspective of an outsider and by using that view Grant builds up the thrill of the mystery. We know something is happening, we know something odd and possibly supernatural is happening. They dived down to investigate a wreck, so there’s the added idea of history, ghosts and who knows what down there in the murky waters. Add some cryptic words uttered, and the reader is left with more questions than answers. Just how the perfect horror story is supposed to end.
The Game of the Bear
What I didn’t know when I read this was that the start of this story is written by the author M. R. James. It’s an unfinished story which was transcribed from James’ manuscript and first shared in 2007 in the M. R. James Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter. The newsletter then held a competition to complete the story, and Grant’s entry was the winner. The original unfinished story is 1700 words long, and you can read a copy of it here, to give you an idea of how the story begins.
For those who haven’t read it, the story starts out seemingly innocent. Two elderly gentlemen are sitting reading while children are playing else where in the house. One of them suddenly screams just outside the door, and one of the gentlemen proceeds to shout at the children to go do something else. The man, their uncle, sits back down, and apologies for his grouchiness. It’s the jumping out and screaming as they play a game called “the Game of the Beast” which bothers him. This could, of course, have a normal explanation, but as the man begins to explain to his friend it becomes clear that this isn’t one of those situations.
Grant’s take on the unfinished story is a slow burn, setting up the scene of a pesky relative that seems more an annoyance than anything truly dangerous. The story plays with the idea of gaslighting, although while the woman is usually the one becoming hysterical, it’s a man. Nothing is as it seems in this story that begins with a child’s game and gets much darker by the end.
Self Catering
There is no other way to describe this one other than absolutely brilliant. It’s a slight departure from Grant’s usual style as she mixes humour with her characteristic horror. Tricked into booking a holiday that weekend by his irritating co-worker, the protagonist thinks he’s found the perfect travel agency until he realises that they give a whole new meaning to the self-catering option. I loved the little word clues dotted throughout the story, and I’m still chuckling about this one, it was just so good. Definitely the highlight of the collection for me!
Nathair Dhubh
Grant introduces an alternative type of narration in this one, capitalising on the oral storytelling by starting the story as though it is one side of a conversation. Set in a pub, an elderly gentleman is approached at a table by a group of young men who have been out climbing. Recognising them by their gear he starts a conversation with them about climbing, recalling his own history as a climber when he was a youth back in 1938. He explains that was the last time he claimed and after that last time he “never had the heart for it” suggesting something happened. As he tells the lads to sit back, the reader does the same, settling in for another of Grant’s mystery.
The familiar format of storytelling continues from then on as the old man takes us back to 1938, telling us about the last climb he did along with his friend Tom. We know something happened on that climb, and as Grant drops hints about his friend, we know that it involves him somehow. It’s a long trek towards an answer and the top of the mountain with Grant building up the anticipation with every step. There’s a lot of climbing jargon in this one, and Grant explains in the story notes that while she only has some experience, it was the idea of the type of equipment that climbers used in the 20s and 30s that fascinated her. I didn’t find the jargon or details about climbing to be a deterrent, rather I found that it juxtaposed to the supernatural. It was something certain and logical versus the superstitions of the mountain.
Alberic de Mauléon
This was another story that I was enlightened about after reading the story notes. This story is a prequel to M. R. James’ “Canon Alberic’s Scrap-book” which if you’re interested you can read here courtesy of Project Gutenberg. Not knowing didn’t affect my enjoyment of the story, but it may provide a different enjoyment or angle to reading it. I read up about it after to get context, and this prequel tells the story of how and why Alberic created the scrap-book that features in the original M. R. James story.
Even without knowing anything about the original story, this is an interesting one. It’s about two twin brothers who share two things; a likeness and the love for the same woman. The elder brother has inherited everything and appears to have spurned his younger brother, who as the younger of the two ended up devoted to the church (a fate that would have been switched if Alberic had only been born a few moments earlier). The story begins with his brother announcing and boasting to him of his new engagement; to the woman Alberic clearly has feelings for, and it is later revealed that she returns them. The details of the love triangle take place off page, and this story is mostly about repercussions and choices.
Once again Grant expertly weaves a story to create a dark and ominous prequel. I was very aware of how she utilises time in this one, telling the story of Alberic and his brother over several years. Most of the other stories in The Sea Change & Other Stories take place in a much shorter time span. As a result this one feels a lot darker in another way, it has more of a human essence to it.
The Calvary at Banská Bystrica
The final story in The Sea Change & Other Stories is more in the vein of a typical horror story. Following a similar format as other stories in this collection, a man is discussing the disappearance of his brother with a friend. Unlike the previous stories there are two narrative voices in this story. The original narrator is the unnamed friend who is discussing the disappearance of Robert Montague with his brother. Robert’s brother is lamenting that until he is found, dead or alive, he cannot claim his inheritance. Such a thing would seem harsh if it were not for the fact that Robert was a nasty person, an opinion backed up fervently by the narrator. As they’re talking Robert’s brother admits that he doesn’t think his brother will ever turn up, and this prompts him to admit that he tracked his brother’s last known location down from a series of letters he sent.
The letters are shown to our narrator, who doesn’t hesitate to pass judgement on their contents and confirm how odious Robert Montague is. Bit by bit the torch of narrator passes from one character to the other until the friend is a passive observer just like the reader, and the story is told completely from the perspective of Robert’s brother as he recalls his trip to Slovakia in detail.
This story reminded me of a classic Victorian ghost story, although with the mention of budget airlines I’d say that it was set in a more modern time. It had the same characteristics though; a strange location, a British character not speaking the language and relying on a translator, ignorant of local customs and folklore, religion, gothic and, of course, ghosts. This story was full of suspense and Grant uses the unknown, the unfamiliar setting of Slovakia (at least to the narrator), to create a sense of drama. He is in another country, doesn’t speak the language, looking for his brother, and he’s trusting a local to translate for him, and taking him at his word because he’s being polite. Pretty much every instinct in me as someone who’s familiar with horror was screaming at him. In the end it didn’t go as badly as it could have been, and it was a much more ghostly ending, not that it wasn’t any less chilling!
The Sea Change & Other Stories is a fabulous collection of short stories that truly showcases the range of Grant’s talent as a writer. None of them are alike, and as I was reading them I was astounded by how unique each one was from the other. This was a treat to read, and I highly recommend it to anyone who loves short stories, especially horror and ghost themes.
For more of my reviews please visit my blog!
Content warnings:
The Sea Change & Other Stories is Grant’s debut collection, featuring seven short stories that were written for contests and other publications. There’s a lovely little “Story Notes” section at the back of the book which was a fascinating read. I love when authors include these notes about short stories as they give you so much insight about the stories which I personally find adds a deeper dynamic to the stories. It was very interesting to read about how each of these stories were created and for what reason, especially as I had no idea about some of the origins of some of them.
Here are my thoughts on each of the individual stories.
Grauer Hans
In a town in Germany a woman looks back on her childhood, recalling the bedtime ritual of her mother singing her a lullaby. As she got older she began to recognise that it was the same one, and as children are wont to do, they question such things. All the while she’s aware of an odd creature visiting the house each night, a sweet looking thing that doesn’t alarm her nearly as much as her mother’s odd responses when she begins to ask about the lullaby. Grant builds up the atmosphere in this suitably creepy fairytale-esque horror story as the narrator takes us through the events over a few years, but the real creep factor doesn’t hit until the very end. That’s when Grant hits you with the true horror of the story.
The Sea Change
Starting relatively normal, a woman goes on a dive with a partner that owns a dive shop. It’s clear from the start that something is going to happen as the narrator is dropping hints to the reader, and emphasising that the man’s attitude was completely unique to him. I liked the way that Grant drew on her own experiences as a diver to write this story, especially to use the murkiness of the water to create the sensation of something dark and dangerous. The idea of not being able to see clearly underwater verses being able to do so else where in the world adds a distinct gothic feeling that is very specific to British horror.
Naturally, something happens on the dive and her partner starts to act oddly. He starts taking dives on his own, which is a big no-no in the diving world. The entire story is from the perspective of an outsider and by using that view Grant builds up the thrill of the mystery. We know something is happening, we know something odd and possibly supernatural is happening. They dived down to investigate a wreck, so there’s the added idea of history, ghosts and who knows what down there in the murky waters. Add some cryptic words uttered, and the reader is left with more questions than answers. Just how the perfect horror story is supposed to end.
The Game of the Bear
What I didn’t know when I read this was that the start of this story is written by the author M. R. James. It’s an unfinished story which was transcribed from James’ manuscript and first shared in 2007 in the M. R. James Ghosts and Scholars Newsletter. The newsletter then held a competition to complete the story, and Grant’s entry was the winner. The original unfinished story is 1700 words long, and you can read a copy of it here, to give you an idea of how the story begins.
For those who haven’t read it, the story starts out seemingly innocent. Two elderly gentlemen are sitting reading while children are playing else where in the house. One of them suddenly screams just outside the door, and one of the gentlemen proceeds to shout at the children to go do something else. The man, their uncle, sits back down, and apologies for his grouchiness. It’s the jumping out and screaming as they play a game called “the Game of the Beast” which bothers him. This could, of course, have a normal explanation, but as the man begins to explain to his friend it becomes clear that this isn’t one of those situations.
Grant’s take on the unfinished story is a slow burn, setting up the scene of a pesky relative that seems more an annoyance than anything truly dangerous. The story plays with the idea of gaslighting, although while the woman is usually the one becoming hysterical, it’s a man. Nothing is as it seems in this story that begins with a child’s game and gets much darker by the end.
Self Catering
There is no other way to describe this one other than absolutely brilliant. It’s a slight departure from Grant’s usual style as she mixes humour with her characteristic horror. Tricked into booking a holiday that weekend by his irritating co-worker, the protagonist thinks he’s found the perfect travel agency until he realises that they give a whole new meaning to the self-catering option. I loved the little word clues dotted throughout the story, and I’m still chuckling about this one, it was just so good. Definitely the highlight of the collection for me!
Nathair Dhubh
Grant introduces an alternative type of narration in this one, capitalising on the oral storytelling by starting the story as though it is one side of a conversation. Set in a pub, an elderly gentleman is approached at a table by a group of young men who have been out climbing. Recognising them by their gear he starts a conversation with them about climbing, recalling his own history as a climber when he was a youth back in 1938. He explains that was the last time he claimed and after that last time he “never had the heart for it” suggesting something happened. As he tells the lads to sit back, the reader does the same, settling in for another of Grant’s mystery.
The familiar format of storytelling continues from then on as the old man takes us back to 1938, telling us about the last climb he did along with his friend Tom. We know something happened on that climb, and as Grant drops hints about his friend, we know that it involves him somehow. It’s a long trek towards an answer and the top of the mountain with Grant building up the anticipation with every step. There’s a lot of climbing jargon in this one, and Grant explains in the story notes that while she only has some experience, it was the idea of the type of equipment that climbers used in the 20s and 30s that fascinated her. I didn’t find the jargon or details about climbing to be a deterrent, rather I found that it juxtaposed to the supernatural. It was something certain and logical versus the superstitions of the mountain.
Alberic de Mauléon
This was another story that I was enlightened about after reading the story notes. This story is a prequel to M. R. James’ “Canon Alberic’s Scrap-book” which if you’re interested you can read here courtesy of Project Gutenberg. Not knowing didn’t affect my enjoyment of the story, but it may provide a different enjoyment or angle to reading it. I read up about it after to get context, and this prequel tells the story of how and why Alberic created the scrap-book that features in the original M. R. James story.
Even without knowing anything about the original story, this is an interesting one. It’s about two twin brothers who share two things; a likeness and the love for the same woman. The elder brother has inherited everything and appears to have spurned his younger brother, who as the younger of the two ended up devoted to the church (a fate that would have been switched if Alberic had only been born a few moments earlier). The story begins with his brother announcing and boasting to him of his new engagement; to the woman Alberic clearly has feelings for, and it is later revealed that she returns them. The details of the love triangle take place off page, and this story is mostly about repercussions and choices.
Once again Grant expertly weaves a story to create a dark and ominous prequel. I was very aware of how she utilises time in this one, telling the story of Alberic and his brother over several years. Most of the other stories in The Sea Change & Other Stories take place in a much shorter time span. As a result this one feels a lot darker in another way, it has more of a human essence to it.
The Calvary at Banská Bystrica
The final story in The Sea Change & Other Stories is more in the vein of a typical horror story. Following a similar format as other stories in this collection, a man is discussing the disappearance of his brother with a friend. Unlike the previous stories there are two narrative voices in this story. The original narrator is the unnamed friend who is discussing the disappearance of Robert Montague with his brother. Robert’s brother is lamenting that until he is found, dead or alive, he cannot claim his inheritance. Such a thing would seem harsh if it were not for the fact that Robert was a nasty person, an opinion backed up fervently by the narrator. As they’re talking Robert’s brother admits that he doesn’t think his brother will ever turn up, and this prompts him to admit that he tracked his brother’s last known location down from a series of letters he sent.
The letters are shown to our narrator, who doesn’t hesitate to pass judgement on their contents and confirm how odious Robert Montague is. Bit by bit the torch of narrator passes from one character to the other until the friend is a passive observer just like the reader, and the story is told completely from the perspective of Robert’s brother as he recalls his trip to Slovakia in detail.
This story reminded me of a classic Victorian ghost story, although with the mention of budget airlines I’d say that it was set in a more modern time. It had the same characteristics though; a strange location, a British character not speaking the language and relying on a translator, ignorant of local customs and folklore, religion, gothic and, of course, ghosts. This story was full of suspense and Grant uses the unknown, the unfamiliar setting of Slovakia (at least to the narrator), to create a sense of drama. He is in another country, doesn’t speak the language, looking for his brother, and he’s trusting a local to translate for him, and taking him at his word because he’s being polite. Pretty much every instinct in me as someone who’s familiar with horror was screaming at him. In the end it didn’t go as badly as it could have been, and it was a much more ghostly ending, not that it wasn’t any less chilling!
The Sea Change & Other Stories is a fabulous collection of short stories that truly showcases the range of Grant’s talent as a writer. None of them are alike, and as I was reading them I was astounded by how unique each one was from the other. This was a treat to read, and I highly recommend it to anyone who loves short stories, especially horror and ghost themes.
For more of my reviews please visit my blog!
February 17, 2016
Not being very familiar with more traditional ghost stories I thought this was a good introduction to the genre.
There's a good variety of settings, periods and genres for the stories from diving, rock climbing, a small village in Slovakia, to a French town at the end of the 17th century along with folk tales, supernatural and one with occult leanings. Put plainly the book never felt like it was retreading the same ground, though the conversational set-up for several stories might bother some people. Sad the collection is as short as it is. Even though I was able to guess what was going to happen in the majority of the tales it didn't diminish my enjoyment of them. Hard to say what my favorite story was, I'd probably have to say Grauer Hans, the funny Self-Catering, and Alberic de Mauléon. The only story I'm not too sure about is the last story, I'll have to give it a reread sometime to better understand the ending.
Not too much to say about the prose itself, it doesn't distract for the most part - there are a couple awkward sentences but it's not too often. I liked her writing overall, being somewhat unfamiliar with M.R. James and others from that period her style appears to be similar with an obvious modern touch to it.
Last, the book itself is gorgeous: from the image on the book boards itself, the dustjacket that perfectly summarizes how I felt throughout, the size, even the font and paper used. If all the other books I've bought from Swan River Press are of the same quality of story and book as The Sea of Change I can't wait to get started on the rest.
Forgot to add that starting this year I was going to attempt to widen both settings of books I read as well as where authors that I read are from. This would manifest in me trying to read 80 books from either authors from 80 countries or just the setting of the story, as well as the same thing but for the 50 states of the US. For authors I'm still trying to decide wether it'd be by birthplace, where they mostly live, or just currently. I'll be cheap and start off Helen Grant by putting her in Scotland.
#1 - Scotland
There's a good variety of settings, periods and genres for the stories from diving, rock climbing, a small village in Slovakia, to a French town at the end of the 17th century along with folk tales, supernatural and one with occult leanings. Put plainly the book never felt like it was retreading the same ground, though the conversational set-up for several stories might bother some people. Sad the collection is as short as it is. Even though I was able to guess what was going to happen in the majority of the tales it didn't diminish my enjoyment of them. Hard to say what my favorite story was, I'd probably have to say Grauer Hans, the funny Self-Catering, and Alberic de Mauléon. The only story I'm not too sure about is the last story, I'll have to give it a reread sometime to better understand the ending.
Not too much to say about the prose itself, it doesn't distract for the most part - there are a couple awkward sentences but it's not too often. I liked her writing overall, being somewhat unfamiliar with M.R. James and others from that period her style appears to be similar with an obvious modern touch to it.
Last, the book itself is gorgeous: from the image on the book boards itself, the dustjacket that perfectly summarizes how I felt throughout, the size, even the font and paper used. If all the other books I've bought from Swan River Press are of the same quality of story and book as The Sea of Change I can't wait to get started on the rest.
Forgot to add that starting this year I was going to attempt to widen both settings of books I read as well as where authors that I read are from. This would manifest in me trying to read 80 books from either authors from 80 countries or just the setting of the story, as well as the same thing but for the 50 states of the US. For authors I'm still trying to decide wether it'd be by birthplace, where they mostly live, or just currently. I'll be cheap and start off Helen Grant by putting her in Scotland.
#1 - Scotland
March 16, 2022
I reviewed this outstanding collection years ago when it was available only in hardcover ( now sold out).
Fortunately a paperback edition is now available. I strongly advise you to secure a copy of this excellent book of dark stories. You won’t regret it.
Alas, as far as I know, the author did not publish any subsequent short story collection, which is a pity.
Fortunately a paperback edition is now available. I strongly advise you to secure a copy of this excellent book of dark stories. You won’t regret it.
Alas, as far as I know, the author did not publish any subsequent short story collection, which is a pity.
July 20, 2015
A must read. Great book,great stories, really really enjoyed it.
March 10, 2023
When the story The Sea Change first appeared in Supernatural Tales in 2007 I thought it was one of the most memorable three or four horror stories I'd read in the past decade. Thirteen years on I still do. So this book was an easy sell for me; my only reservation is that I wish it were twice as thick!
August 20, 2025
I love Helen Grant's writing. I read this collection a while ago when it was first published by Swan River Press. I plan on rereading it after I finish her latest collection, also from Swan River Press, entitled Atmospheric Disturbances.
January 11, 2026
One of my favorite reads of 2025. The stories in this collection are quite different from one another, so each feels fresh, even though they are all uncanny and sometimes even frightening. Don’t read the first one right before bed.
March 9, 2024
A great set of stories very eerie
June 2, 2025
Four stars for 'The Game of Bear' and 'The Calvary at Banska Bystrica'. Proper chillers.
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