Montague Rhodes James authored some of the most highly regarded ghost stories of all time―classics such as “Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad” that have been adapted many times over for radio and television and have never gone out of print. But while James is best known as a fiction writer and storyteller, he was also a provost of King’s College, Cambridge, and Eton College, and a legendary and influential scholar whose pioneering work in the study of biblical texts and medieval manuscripts, art, and architecture is still relevant today.
In Medieval Studies and the Ghost Stories of M. R. James, Patrick J. Murphy argues that these twin careers are inextricably linked. James’s research not only informed his fiction but also reflected his anxieties about the nature of academic life and explored the delicate divide between professional, university men and erratic hobbyists or antiquaries. Murphy shows how detailed attention to the scholarly inspirations behind James’s fiction provides considerable insight into a formative moment in medieval studies, as well as into James’s methods as a master stylist of understated horror.
During his life, James often claimed that his stories were mere entertainments―pleasing distractions from a life largely defined by academic discipline and restraint―and readers over the years have been content to take him at his word. This intriguing volume, however, convincingly proves otherwise.
Among readers of Gothic and horror literature, Montague Rhodes James (1862-1936), called “Monty” by his friends, is primarily known as a writer of ghost stories. James first read many of these short stories at Christmastime to his friends at King’s College, Cambridge, where he lived and worked as a scholar and editor of medieval manuscripts mostly written in Latin and Old English.
Patrick J. Murphy draws on recent scholarship not just in English literary studies, but first and foremost in medievalism (the study of how people from a time after the Middle Ages saw/see this time period) when he argues that James’s career studying medieval manuscripts, his further interest in relics and monuments of the Middle Ages, and his fictional pursuits are inextricably linked: James’s horrors and jumpscares often are deliberately distorted visions of subjects and information he encountered during his studies, which is also why most of his ghosts are corporeal—as ghosts used to be in the Middle Ages. Moreover, James often discusses topics touching upon his own scholarly pursuits, which were partially seen as precariously “antiquarian”, marginal, and old-fashioned by his own time that strove to structure historical information into grander national narratives (a view that is mostly out-of-date today, at least in Western Europe, whereas James’s contributions to manuscript studies ironically often stood the test of time).
In his book, Murphy analyses several well-known and lesser-known ghost stories. In Chapter 1 (“Terror and Error”), he highlights how James uses stories to deal with matters of textuality, errors of translation, and (potential) misinterpretation of medieval texts (“The Treasure of Abbot Thomas”, “Oh, Whistle, and I’ll Come to You, My Lad”). For “Oh, Whistle”, he suggests a reading for one of the inscriptions of the whistle based on clues in James’s story draft.
Chapter 2 (“Recasting the Antiquary”) shows how James uses stories to criticise contemporaries such as the historian Oscar Browning (1837-1923), called “(the) O.B.” (“Casting the Runes”), and Basil Brown (1888-1977), an antiquary who famously discovered the ship burial at Sutton Hoo (“A View from a Hill”).
Chapter 3 (“Ex Cathedra”) deals with James’s fascination for medieval cathedrals that led him to visit almost every cathedral in France on cycling trips with friends during his holidays. Murphy explains how “The Stalls of Barchester Cathedral” is a hidden critique of the potentially destructive zeal of Gothic revivalists who often disregarded the preservation of original medieval structures as opposed to constructing a general medievalising ideal of something made completely new. He points out that the empty “grave” in “An Episode of Cathedral History” actually signifies the base for an “Easter Sepulchre” in medieval mystery plays. The opening of the “grave” as described by James recalls much of what happened during resurrection scenes in mystery plays in a comical manner. With this description, James also criticises a view (quite common at his time) that saw mystery plays simply as evolutionary predecessors to later secular dramatic forms.
Chapter 4 (“A Desideratum of Wings”) deals with what could be subsumed as “historical and social issues of university life”: how letters were composed during the Middle Ages (and beyond) in “The Experiment”, the maze-like qualities of medieval libraries and of making sense of manuscripts in “Mr Humphreys and His Inheritance”, the inability of women to access the library at Cambridge in “Tractate” (a view James agreed with), and an 18th century scandal of transgression in “The Diary of Mr. Poynter” that he had read about in the diaries of the antiquary Thomas Hearne (1678-1735) whom James valued for his faithful transcriptions.
Chapter 5 (“To the Curious”) deals with James’s late ghost story “A Warning to the Curious”, which is not intended as a warning *against* curiosity (James had always explicitly encouraged young people to remain curious), but in which a “curious person” must be warned against the danger he is in—much like the young men who were sent into the trench warfare of World War I, the first modern war they had no way to be prepared for. Murphy reads this story as James coming to terms with the loss of a whole generation of young men he had been close with.
All in all, I found this book both insightful and entertaining, particularly for readers of James’s ghost stories who are interested in literary studies and history alike (that is, me)—not just the history of the Middle Ages and of medievalism, but also of university life at Cambridge in James’s time. Some passages, not least in Chapter 2, are outright funny, whereas Chapter 5 casts a sombre tone with James’s experience of loss due to World War I. All in all, I enjoyed this book a lot and would recommend it to anyone who shares my interests in literature and history.
This is a fascinating study concerning the interconnectedness of M.R. James' scholarly work and ghost stories, and just erupting with all kinds of interesting ideas and readings that I've never considered before. Some of the interpretations are a bit of a stretch (i.e. the Beowulf and Dream of the Rood bits, but hey, isn't Nightmare of the Rood an amazing subtitle??), but it's all compelling stuff (although I was personally hoping that my favourite "Lost Hearts" would make the cut - har har). Great for M.R. James fans and scholars alike, and excellently researched too.
This is a well-argued, scholarly analysis of the relationship between M. R. James' academic career and his celebrated supernatural fiction. Some biographers and other commentators have tended to put the two activities in separate compartments, and treated the ghost stories as a kind of aberration. This book makes clear how James' academic and antiquarian interests flowed most directly into his ghost stories. This was not just a question of style and atmosphere but also of content. The book considers some of the key stories and connects them to the work that James was doing and the broader context of his career at Cambridge and Eton.
This is an academic study and with extensive quotations from other languages including Anglo-Saxon does not always make fluent reading. But it is worth taking the time to consider the arguments and, as a long-time admirer of M. R. James, I found this book most persuasive.