In The Little Stranger, Sarah Waters writes a ghost story in the form of the classic English haunted country house tale. To call her novel a genre work is no insult, however, for she infuses her story and characters with drama and depth. The events of the plot are intertwined with the personalities and responses of characters -- the story doesn't happen to them, they ARE the sources of the events.

The tale centers around a decaying old house, its inhabitants, and the local doctor who becomes involved in their lives. Waters sets the action in the post WWII period, where England is transitioning from the old, class-based system to the new Labour structure of egalitarianism and the end of the landed gentry. The inhabitants of Hundreds are caught in an home that they can no longer afford to keep. The son and heir, suffering from a war injury and unable to cope with estate management, begins to be convinced that the house itself is acting against the family. His doctor argues the case of reason and natural causes but is not without his own demons, especially related to his humble origins (his mother was a maid at Hundreds). As events progress, the suspense builds exquisitely as we learn more about the characters and their inner selves. Like all great ghost stories, the true nature of what happened remains ambiguous, which in this case results in one of the best closing lines you will ever read: deliciously creepy and disturbing.

I think Sarah Waters is a wonderful writer, I loved 'Fingersmith' and thought her writing in 'Affinity' and 'Tipping the Velvet' was excellent. I would recommend all three of those novels.

'The Little Stranger' is well written and easy to read but unfortunately didn't live up to my expectations or it's own advanced billing as a "ghost story". I never got the creeps or felt a shiver up my spine while reading 'Little Stranger'. 'Affinity' has a seriously ghostly flavor.

The setting was well described, the characters had realistic interactions and the story itself was interesting but unfortunately it was somewhat anticlimactic. It didn't have the 'Umpf' or 'Wow' effect that the other three books I've mentioned had. I also didn't care for the characters she created in this novel as much as those in the other books. I'm comparing her writing to her other work and that's where my expectations for this novel came from.

I think 'Fingersmith' is a masterpiece and it's rather hard to make every book you write a masterpiece. My expectations may have been unrealistic.

I would say give this one a try but you might want to borrow it from the library instead of shelling out [...] bucks for it. And if you didn't have such high expectations based on Waters' other work you might be perfectly happy with this novel.

I am not one to take someone's obviously elaborate brainchild and dismiss it totally because instead of being touted as a study in class struggle it is placed in the genre of ghost story. "The Little Stranger" is indeed a ghost story but its worthiness as a novel of substance is derived for me by the noticeably and rather remarkable craftsmanship of writing that novelist Sarah Waters employs. However, while this overly long narrative delights in its depiction of post-WWII Britain, it fails to deliver that "ah-ha" moment at its conclusion that serves to raise the hairs at the back of the reader's neck as most good ghost stories do.

Take Henry James' "The Turn of the Screw." We really never know whether or not the governess in the story is reacting to her own mental instability or if her charges actually see the ghosts of Peter Quint and Miss Jessel. Nevertheless, the reader sensing that pre-lightning strike imbalance of atmosphere that the writer has created, continues to turn the pages waiting for that feeling of grounding that will settle things down again into the realm of the rational.

In "The Little Stranger," the narrator, the 40-something general practitioner Dr. Faraday plays as a victim of his own aspirations. The son of a one-time nursemaid at the Hundreds, the old homestead of his village's aristocracy, he cannot help but be fascinated by not only the well-bred inhabitants of the place but by the wondrous estate itself. Symbolic of his generation, Faraday embodies a newer England that has little patience for the one-time wealthy landowners struggling to keep the great white elephants of their assets intact while thinking themselves still entitled and cut from finer cloth than their working class compatriots. Indeed, inwardly and perhaps subconsciously Faraday relishes in the fact that Hundreds Hall has seen better days--the diminished Ayres family--the fifty-ish Mrs. Ayres, her war-injured son, Roderick, and sturdy albeit unattractive daughter, Caroline--barely maintain two servants to keep a house that at one time required multitudes to tend it. As a man of science, he acts as the perfect skeptic to the odd events that befall the family at Hundreds Hall. However needy and resentful he may be--and Waters fashions him sympathetically, allowing him to make his desires plain to the reader--his character, although badly bitten by the plot's dire events, never quite understands what actually transpires on the supernatural level that is never fully explained.

At the end of Susan Hill's `The Woman in Black,' the reader firmly grasps that the supernatural happenings surrounding the mysterious woman dressed in mourning clothes have all to do with revenge. Through the eyes of the skeptic-turned-believer, we feel all his horror, as he slowly understands the actions of a soul caught in grief so shattering that it simply cannot move forward away from the darkness and towards the light. Hill literally makes your skin crawl as you turn the pages and realize what is about to occur.

To her credit, Waters almost does it right. She's got the decaying mansion as a creepy backdrop; the cold winter weather adds insult to injury to a family that can barely afford to heat the few rooms that they are obliged to occupy. Faraday acts as the skeptic, wielding his pills and potions to bandage problems that as otherworldly are simply out of his control. Where Waters stumbles is in the creation of her ghost. We are made to ponder over its nature. Is it little Susan wanting her mother? Or is it a manifestation of the unfulfilled machinations of the minds of the beleaguered Ayreses who inhabit the Hall? Unlike more classic ghost tales, this ghostly presence has no real motive; its reason for staying on the earthly plane seems too nebulous and undefined. A child dying of diphtheria would perhaps experience some bewilderment as to what had transpired and search for her mother. Waters explains Mrs. Ayres' fantasy but fails to explain that of Rodney and Caroline. As an audience, we never get that tremendous rush of horror as experienced through Faraday's eyes. Instead we get accounts that never fully enhance what we already know or lead us head first to some horrific conclusion that makes us catch our breath.

Bottom Line? Sarah Waters' ghost story "The Little Stranger" marvelously depicts the late 1940s in rural Britain. With strong characterizations--Dr. Faraday, Caroline, Rupert, Mrs. Ayres and Betty all stand out as unique fictional creations that are more than two-dimensional cutouts--and vividly painted scenes of decaying manorial life juxtaposed with the workaday world of the village doctor, the novel touches on themes of upper class entitlement, the nobility in embarrassed circumstances, the proletariat's view of aristocracy and Britain's turn to nationalized industry and the creation of free healthcare after WW2. However clever in its representation of this era, "The Little Stranger," promoted as a ghost story, fails to deliver the necessary spook that causes the reader to pause and glance about his/her shoulder with fear into the darkening corners or start at sounds that amplify that "bump" in the night. Recommended for its interesting characterization of Caroline Ayres with the wish that the author had made Caroline's fears more understandable to the reader. For a real ghost story try Susan Hill's "The Woman in Black: A Ghost Story," Barbara Erksine's "House of Echoes," Judith Hawkes "Julian's House (Signet)" and classics like Henry James'"The Turn of The Screw by Henry James. Published by MobileReference (mobi)" and Dorothy MacCardle's "The Uninvited."
Diana Faillace Von Behren
"reneofc"