Ghost Stories of an Antiquary

M.R. James invented a new kind of ghost story. Where others relied on castles and decrepit villains, he populated his tales with dons, antiquarians, and country clergymen - men of learning who disturb something they should have left undisturbed. The horror here is intellectual: it comes from books, from manuscripts, from the weight of history pressing against the present. A scholar browsing a cleric's scrap-book finds images that should not move. A mezzotint begins to show something it should not show. A house numbered thirteen reveals itself to be something other than thirteen rooms. James understood that the past is not dead - it is merely waiting, and its patience is terrifying. Written to be read aloud on Christmas Eve, these stories blend dry wit with genuine dread, their gentle English settings making the intrusions of the supernatural all the more horrifying. Eight tales of scholarship gone wrong, of curiosities best left unexamined, of the things that wait in old churches and older manuscripts for some curious soul to let them in.
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“Few people can resist the temptation to try a little amateur research in a department quite outside their own, if only for the satisfaction of showing how successful they would have been had they only taken it up seriously.””
— M. R. James
“I heard one cry in the night, and I heard one laugh afterwards. If I cannot forget that, I shall not be able to sleep again.””
— M. R. James
“He lighted the candles, for it was now dark, made the tea, and supplied the friend with whom he had been playing golf (for I believe the authorities of the University I write of indulge in that pursuit by way of relaxation); and tea was taken to the accompaniment of a discussion which golfing persons can imagine for themselves, but which the conscientious writer has no right to inflict upon any non-golfing persons.””
— M. R. James
“At first you saw only a mass of coarse, matted black hair; presently it was seen that this covered a body of fearful thinness, almost a skeleton, but with the muscles standing out like wires. The hands were of a dusky pallor, covered, like the body, with long, coarse hairs, and hideously taloned. The eyes, touched in with a burning yellow, had intensely black pupils, and were fixed upon the throned King with a look of beast-like hate. Imagine one of the awful bird-catching spiders of South America translated into human form, and endowed with intelligence just less than human, and you will have some faint conception of the terror inspired by the appalling effigy.””
— M. R. James
“cast-iron erection, on””
— M. R. James
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James, M. R.. Ghost Stories of an Antiquary. Lex, lex-books.com/book/ghost-stories-of-an-antiquary-5c66a1c2-4bd8-4cd3-ad01-ee169c18a7e7.James, M. R. (n.d.). Ghost Stories of an Antiquary. Lex. https://lex-books.com/book/ghost-stories-of-an-antiquary-5c66a1c2-4bd8-4cd3-ad01-ee169c18a7e7James, M. R.. Ghost Stories of an Antiquary. Lex. https://lex-books.com/book/ghost-stories-of-an-antiquary-5c66a1c2-4bd8-4cd3-ad01-ee169c18a7e7.














