The Haunted House (1859) by Charles Dickens

The Haunted House (1859) by Charles Dickens is actually a compilation work, with contributions from Hesba Stretton, George Augustus Sala, Adelaide Anne Procter, ​Wilkie Collins, and Elizabeth Gaskell. Each writer, including Dickens, writes one “chapter” of the tale. The premise is that a group of people has come to a well-known haunted house to stay for a period of time, experience whatever supernatural elements might be there to experience, then regroup at the end of their stay to share their stories. Each author represents a specific person within the tale and, while the genre is supposed to be that of the ghost story, most of the individual pieces fall flat of that. The conclusion, too, is saccharine and unnecessary—it reminds the reader that, though we came for ghost stories, what we leave with is a mirthful Christmas story.

The Guests

Because this is a compilation of separate short stories, one would not expect much character growth and development (short stories are, after all, more about the theme/event/plot than they are about the characters). Still, because they were interconnected via the primary story (a group of folks coming together to the same house), there could have been at least a bit of time spent developing those guests, so as to better understand the stories they ultimately told. Gaskell’s story, being the longest, did allow for some characterization and what was done, was done well. The characters remain generally flat throughout, but they are recognizable characters—a mother who would act like a mother, a father who acts like a father, etc. Still, when coming to this collection, it cannot be for its interesting characters because they just are not very interesting (and this could be even more acceptable if the stories themselves were thrilling ghost stories because then there is something else to entertain and occupy the reader, but …). 

The Authors

Dickens, Gaskell, and Collins are clearly the masters here, but in my opinion Dickens was in fact outshone by the other two in this one. Dickens’s portions read too much like someone trying to write a thriller but not quite knowing how (it felt like someone mimicking Edgar Allan Poe—getting the general mechanics right, but not quite being Poe). Gaskell’s piece is the longest, and her narrative brilliance—use of dialect in particular—are clear. Collins has the best paced and most appropriately toned prose. Salas’s writing seemed pompous, arrogant, and long-winded; it was funny, at times, but a bit too self-serving. The inclusion of Procter’s verse added a nice element to the overall scheme, and a nice break from the various competing proses. The verse itself was haunting and reminded me quite a bit of the pace and scheme of Poe’s “The Raven.” Stretton’s short piece was perhaps the most enjoyable, because it was so well-written and more intricately layered than the rest. 

Dickens himself was reportedly underwhelmed and disappointed by his peers’ contributions to this serial Christmas tale. His hope was that each of the authors would put into print a certain fear or terror particular to each of them, as Dickens’s story did. The “haunting,” then, would be something personal and, while not necessarily supernatural, could still be understandably frightening. Like Dickens, the reader may be disappointed with the end-result of this ambition.

For Dickens, the fear was in revisiting his impoverished youth, the death of his father and the dread of never escaping the “ghost of [his] own childhood.” Gaskell’s story revolved around betrayal by blood—the loss of a child and lover to the darker elements of humanity, which is understandably frightening in its way. Sala’s story was a dream within a dream within a dream, but while the dream could have been unnerving, there seemed little that was truly frightening about it, supernatural or otherwise. Wilkie Collins’s story is the one in this compilation which could actually be considered a “suspense” or “thriller” story. Hesba Stretton’s story, too, while not necessarily scary, is romantic, somewhat suspenseful, and well-accomplished overall. 

When considering the group of tales in this compilation, it is Stretton’s which leaves me wanting to read more of her work. Ultimately, though it is called The Haunted House, this compilation of ghost stories is not really a ‘Halloween’-type read. If one reads this collection as a study of these individual writers, their thoughts, and what they considered haunting, then it is quite interesting. But as a ghost story, it is no extraordinary achievement, possibly because Dickens (and presumably the other writers) was a skeptic and found the popular interest in the supernatural rather silly.