Susan Hill, a name synonymous with chilling tales and atmospheric narratives, returns with The Travelling Bag and Other Ghostly Stories, a collection that promises to deliver classic ghostly unease. For readers familiar with Hill’s work, this book offers a concentrated dose of her signature style, delving into Victorian gloom and modern-day anxieties with equal measure. This review explores whether this collection truly packs a punch or if, like an overstuffed Travelling Bag, it buckles under its own weight.
Hill’s previous ghost stories, while enjoyable, have sometimes suffered from feeling stretched thin. Ideas that sparkled with potential in their initial creepiness occasionally lost their edge when expanded into novella length. The Travelling Bag seeks to remedy this by presenting four tales in a more compact format. Does brevity serve to amplify the scares, or does it leave the narratives feeling underdeveloped? Let’s delve into each story to find out.
“The Travelling Bag,” the titular story, immediately transports us to familiar Hill territory: a shadowy London gentlemen’s club, shrouded in fog. Here, a psychic private investigator, Gilbert, recounts his most “intriguing” case to a friend. The story unfolds as a tale of revenge, orchestrated by a medical scientist against his ambitious protégé who dared to steal his ideas. Hill masterfully builds suspense, crafting a palpable sense of dread that lingers long after the story concludes. However, the narrative continuity presents a slight puzzle, a minor stumble in an otherwise effectively chilling tale. Perhaps this ambiguity is intentional, adding to the ghostly mystique, but it does leave a lingering question mark.
“Boy Twenty-One” opens with a potent image: a former teacher reading about the fiery destruction of Cloten Hall, a stately home. This news triggers a poignant reminiscence about Toby, a past student she remembers as an “unhappy boy.” Toby’s troubled home life and social isolation are disrupted by the arrival of Andreas, a mysterious new boy. Their intense friendship quickly becomes a source of concern for their teachers, culminating in Andreas’s sudden disappearance. As a ghostly story, the narrative trajectory becomes somewhat predictable. The framing device of perspectives from Mrs. Mills, the teacher, and the adult Toby adds a layer of depth, but ultimately, “Boy Twenty-One” feels like the slightest offering in the collection, more of a gentle whisper than a chilling scream. It’s not poorly executed, but it lacks the sharp bite of the other stories.
“Alice Baker” shines as the true gem of The Travelling Bag. Set within the mundane backdrop of a cramped and dreary office, the story captures the weary resignation of office workers promised modernization that never arrives. The arrival of Alice Baker, a seemingly quiet and antisocial new colleague, disrupts the already unsettling atmosphere. The unnamed narrator initially finds Alice unremarkable, yet unsettling encounters begin to accumulate. When the office finally relocates to the promised modern premises, the strange events surrounding Alice Baker persist, blurring the lines between reality and the uncanny. This story is brilliantly crafted. Hill excels at portraying the drab office environment, the camaraderie amongst colleagues, and the unsettling feeling of experiencing something inexplicable, only to rationalize it away until doubt creeps back in. The narrator, despite being nameless, feels incredibly real, grounding the eerie events in a believable, first-person account of the weird and unsettling. “Alice Baker” is a masterclass in subtle horror, proving that true chills can be found in the most ordinary of settings.
“The Front Room” ventures into less typical Hill territory. Inspired by a pastor’s sermon on charity, Norman and Belinda decide to take in Solange, Norman’s difficult stepmother. Solange is installed in the refurbished front room, intended as a self-contained space. However, she quickly infiltrates the household, becoming a disruptive and menacing presence. Her interference escalates, terrorizing the couple’s children and pushing Belinda from anger to fear. The story builds tension not through supernatural elements, but through the increasingly disturbing behavior of Solange. “The Front Room” feels distinct from Hill’s usual ghostly fare, echoing the unsettling realism found in Nightjar Press chapbooks. The ordinariness of the suburban setting and family dinners heightens the disquiet when the narrative takes a turn towards the uncanny. This story demonstrates Hill’s versatility, proving her ability to evoke chills even without relying on overtly supernatural tropes.
The Travelling Bag and Other Ghostly Stories ultimately showcases Susan Hill’s mastery of atmospheric detail. The enduring appeal of traditional ghost stories lies in their paradoxical ability to evoke both comfort and unease. Hill’s work, particularly in this collection, exemplifies this duality. She expertly crafts an atmosphere of creeping dread, weaving unease into the fabric of everyday life. While some stories are stronger than others, the collection as a whole delivers on its promise of ghostly tales that linger in the mind. For fans of classic ghost stories and newcomers alike, The Travelling Bag offers a journey into the shadows, a testament to Hill’s enduring talent for crafting chilling and captivating narratives. It’s a collection worth packing in your literary travelling bag for a journey into the uncanny.
