GHOSTS AND LEGENDS OF THE LAKE DISTRICT - Book review

 

The author J.A. Brooks has written a number of books similar to this one, covering the Cotswolds, London, Wales and even railway ghosts. My copy was published in 1988.

I’d picked up this slim volume (144pp) a while ago and since Jen and I were visiting the Lake District for the fourth or fifth time, it seemed appropriate to begin reading it, at last! Certainly, a number of familiar place-names cropped up.

Apparently, near Lindeth there was the Scout Dobbie, a headless woman who guarded a cave; often these scare stories were put about by smugglers and moonshiners to deter the inquisitive and excise men. Here’s a quotation: ‘Dobbies are just one of the colloquial forms of ghost native to Cumbria. They were a comparatively friendly type of ghost (more of a household fairy or hobgoblin) compared with the more fearsome boggle or boggart…’ (p9).

‘When visible, a boggart was seen to be half man – the half spirit was his unseen self – no more than knee high, his face wizened, his neck scrawny like an old man’s, his arms thin, his legs looking incapable of supporting his corpulent body. In bad mood his face was contorted as in a rage: when indulging in pranks he grinned with impish glee; in good mood his mien was benevolent’ (p11).

The above two passages rang bells with me, having read J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series of books and watched the movies! Bringing to mind the house-elf Dobbie. One of the references Brooks refers to is The Folklore of the Lake District by Marjorie Rowling…

Apparently, ‘early in the Middle Ages the last wolf was killed in the Lake District’ (p29). Needless to say, there is a legend involving a Sir John Harrington, a wolf terrorising the Cartmel district, and Adela, a young girl, would be promised to him if he could slay the animal.

In June 1921 a Londoner named Crump set out to walk from Coniston to Wasdale Head. Lost in mist, he fell, badly hurt and ended up trapped in Piers Gill, a great chasm. As chance would have it, a climber found him some twenty days later. He had survived on a small piece of gingerbread and a sandwich, and trickles of water; (p47). I include this snippet simply because Melvyn Bragg uses the name Crump in his novel The Maid of Buttermere! (qv).

Before 1890 there were just two small lakes occupying the lovely valley that Thirlmere covers today. Wordsworth used to picnic there. However, in 1894 Manchester Corporation flooded the valley to create the Thirlmere reservoir. The waters covered Armboth House and subsequently hauntings were reported: ‘Lights at night, bells ring, and as all are set off ringing a large black dog is seen swimming across the lake. Plates and dishes clatter, and a table is spread by unseen hands preparing for a ghostly wedding feast of a murdered bride about to rise from her watery grave to keep her terrible nuptials… There is something remarkable, like witchery, about the house’ (p52). It was believed that ‘the sight of a black dog presaged a fatal accident’ (p94).

‘At the summit of Helvellyn there is a monument commemorating an accident that occurred on Striding Edge in 1803, when Charles Gough fell and was killed while on a walk with his yellow terrier Foxey. His body lay undiscovered for three months, and when it was found his faithful dog sat close by, still guarding him, rather like Greyfriars’ Bobby’ ’ (p56). There was some suspicion that the dog survived by taking occasional bites of his master’s body…

Mention is made of the Luck of Muncaster Castle – a piece of ancient glassware. It was said to have been presented to Sir John Pennington by Henry VI in gratitude for hiding the defeated Lancastrian king. ‘The castle is said to be haunted by the ghost of Thomas Skelton, the “late fool of Muncaster”, who died c1600’ (p134). [See also WRITEALOT: Visit to The Lake District, Cumbria (nik-writealot.blogspot.com) ]

‘A swarth is a supernatural being akin to the fairies. It performed the same function in the North of England as a banshee does in Ireland – foretelling death’ (p88). Superstition was rife: ‘All the mirrors in the house were covered while a dead person was lying in a house, for it was considered to be extremely unlucky should the spirit catch sight of a reflected image of itself. People visiting the house for the lying-in used to touch the body. This served two purposes: if the corpse had been murdered and it was touched by the guilty part, then it would begin to bleed; also if the hand laid on the body felt cold to one’s own flesh it meant that that person would die within the year’ (p90).

At Greystoke (the family name Edgar Rice Burroughs gave to Tarzan) there are supposed to be two ghosts. ‘One is a monk who is said to have been bricked up in a secret passage. He appears in a disused room occasionally’ (p112). The second concerns a local beauty who falls to her death at Aira Force waterfall.

‘At the foot of Kirkstone Pass just into Ambleside there is a large house that had been a hotel. A fire in the topmost bedrooms killed several staff. ‘The hotel was forced to close because the terrible smell of burning flesh would sometimes, and for no apparent reason, pervade the building’ (p113).

Egremont has a ghost of a pony and rider that only appears on Christmas Eve; he may have been a fell-farmer who imbibed too much ale and left on his horse, and neither were ‘seen again in earthly form’ (p135).

‘Wigton has the reputation of being the most haunted town in Cumbria. Its ghosts have intriguing names, such as the Church Street Phantom, the Clinic Ghost, the Burnfoot Spirit, the Water Street Boggle, the New Street Headless Horror’ (p140).

A fascinating little book which seems to dwell more on local legends rather than ghosts; however, for variety there is also mention of a vampire in the village of Croglin, and it is quite a classic scary tale (p115).

Editorial comment

The book would have benefitted by having a map or two. And a small number of the old illustrations are without any caption so it is not clear what part of the text they are referencing.

'Two distinct races'

Charles Lamb (1775-1834) had a few things to say about borrowing.

‘The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is composed of two distinct races, the men who borrow, and the men who lend.’ – The Two Races of Men

‘I mean you borrowers of books – those mutilators of collections, spoilers of the symmetry of shelves, and creators of odd volumes. – The Two Races of Men.

I believe that there are readers who buy books and readers who borrow. [We’ll ignore those people who borrow books from us but never return them…] There are plenty of reasons why readers borrow – cost and storage space being just two. I may have a collection of about 4,000 books, but in my lifetime I’ve read thousands more. Space precludes storing so many. I’ve borrowed from the public library when I couldn’t afford to buy sufficient books to read; and of course pre-Internet, I delved into the non-fiction shelves for research. Like most generalisations, I’m sure this separation into two types of book readers will fall down under close scrutiny, but I feel that it has a grain of truth in it. Until relatively recent times, authors received no payment for books borrowed from libraries.

It seems only fair that authors should benefit in some small measure from institutional borrowing of their work. Twenty-eight countries have a Public Lending Right programme. The first was implemented in Denmark in 1946; the UK’s PLR was enacted in 1979.

As a resident of the EU (UK citizen living in Spain), I am able to take advantage of the PLR system applied to libraries in the UK and Eire. It is a welcome annual event, receiving notification of the pecuniary reward (taxable) along with the number of borrowers for my registered books.

Registered authors are eligible for payment if their PLR earnings reach a minimum of £1. The rate per loan is currently 6.2 pence [and for foreign readers who may not be aware, there are 100 pence in the £]. There is an upper limit for any author, £6,600. Last month, PLR made payments totalling £6.1 million to 22,327 authors. It is funded by the Department of Culture, Media and Sport through the British Library. Writers can register online. A book has to be registered by 30 June to be eligible for assessment in the following January.

To read the rules about registration, please go to the website www.plr.uk.com

A list of the hundred most borrowed titles included James Patterson fifteen times; needless to say, he was the most borrowed fiction author (for the seventh year running); Nora Roberts dropped from fourth place last year to sixth; M.C. Beaton was seventh and tenth was David Baldacci (previously eighteenth). Lee Child had the two top most borrowed titles; J.K. Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy was the tenth most borrowed title, well beaten by Fifty Shades of Grey (third).

 

The top twenty of the 100 most-borrowed books in Scotland are all crime novels.
 
Top non-fiction author was cookery expert Mary Berry.
 
The full list can be found on the website.
 
Last year my books (penname Ross Morton) were borrowed 5,464 times from the UK libraries. That’s a great feeling, to know that that number of people have read my novels.
 
Since its publication in 2007, my first novel Death at Bethesda Falls has been borrowed 8,709 times.
 
My most-borrowed title is The $300 Man.

If you can't borrow it, please purchased post-free world-wide from here

So, I must go against the advice of Shakespeare, in Hamlet: ‘… neither a borrower, nor a lender be…’ (I know, he was talking about money, rather than books!)

Doris Lessing - R.I.P.

Doris Lessing, the Nobel prize-winning author of The Golden Notebook, among more than 50 other novels, has died at her London home aged 94.

Fifty books is an achievement, but it’s for the breadth of the work that she should be measured: novelist, poet, playwright, librettist, biographer and short story writer. She was able to cross genres with relative ease.

The first novel of hers I read happened to be her debut, The Grass Is Singing (1950), an unflinching powerful account of colonial Africa.

Her most popular novel sequence or series was Children of Violence – Martha Quest, A Proper Marriage, A Ripple from the Storm, Landlocked and The Four-Gated City.

She was equally at home with short stories – and wrote many – and science fiction, with her 5-book series, the Canopus in Argos Archives; two of the latter were adapted for the opera by Philip Glass and Lessing wrote the librettos. A number of her books were filmed, including the dystopian Memoirs of a Survivor.


Mischievously, in 1984 she wrote two novels under the penname Jane Somers and they were initially turned down by her own publisher. She hadn't told them she was the author. ''I wanted to highlight that whole dreadful process in book publishing that 'nothing succeeds like success.' If the books had come out in my name, they would have sold a lot of copies and reviewers would have said, 'Oh, Doris Lessing, how wonderful.'" They were published, eventually, showing that her writing skill won through past the gatekeepers. Under the pseudonym, the two books achieved instant remainder status, selling around 3,000 and 1,500 copies respectively. Of course when she came clean, their sales were a different story. Reminds anyone of J.K. Rowling?
She was born in Iran, brought up in the African bush in Zimbabwe (Rhodesia, as was) – where her first novel was set. She was a London resident for over fifty years.

She was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature when she was 88, in 2007.

Why do you use a pen name?

I’ve been asked that over the years, as, doubtless, have many other authors who fall into that category. There are reasons.

Let me start by pointing out that my real name is Robert William Nicholson-Morton (no secret, it's on my website). Yes, quite a mouthful. When cheques were the normal form of payment, I hated signing them with that name – more like a squiggle. In truth, I hated signing cheques anyway!

When I joined the Royal Navy, my name-tally ended up as R.W.N-Morton. Having a double-barrelled name had its amusing side. When I appeared for duty one evening, the Leading Hand called out ‘Morton’ and I answered, ‘Here!’ Then he called out ‘Nicholson!’ So I said, ‘Here!’ I quickly added, ‘But I don’t want two jobs.’ Inevitably, in true forces spirit, I had to have a nickname. I became ‘Nik’ – I insisted on dropping the ‘c’ so I could sign my cartoons that way. (I thought there couldn’t be another Nik Morton around – and there wasn’t for some years, but now there is, and he’s a distinguished doctor in UK! But I got there first.)

That’s one reason to opt for a pen name; you’ve either got a common or familiar name or your name is already on the covers of published books. And although it doesn’t deter some authors, a long name is harder to fit onto a cover than a shorter snappier one.

I digress.

Way back in 1971, when I first started submitting short stories and articles, I wrote as Platen Syder. Being in the RN, I felt it prudent in case I ended up having some possibly controversial piece published. (I’d slightly adapted the name of someone I’d signed-up to join the Navy in Gosport, Platten Syder, who now lives in Truro, UK). Despite the name being in front of them, some magazine sub editors managed to give me the byline Playten Syder!

 

By the time I was publishing the magazine Auguries (http://auguries-magazine.blogspot.com.es/), I was using Nik Morton. (When courting my wife-to-be Jennifer, she knew me only as ‘Nik’ for a short while, and to this day I am still Nik to virtually everyone. Schizophrenic, who me?)

When I ran book reviews in my magazine, I had a small stable of reviewers; but the volume of books meant there were still too many for them to cope with. So I reviewed some books under the names Maggie Weaver, Nicola Williams as well as Nik Morton, to avoid the name monotony!

Eventually, after many years, my first novel acceptance was Pain Wears No Mask by Nik Morton, in 2007. Within a month or so afterwards, I wrote my first western and felt it should be under a different brand, so Ross Morton was invented. Ross was my late mother’s maiden name. Bear in mind that this was in the traditional publishing arena, where genre branding is considered important. The reasons for this are manifold: readers’ expectations possibly top the publishers’ list. If a reader buys a Nik Morton book, they expect it to be a crime novel. This is a little nonsensical if the cover and blurb of the book stated the story was a western, or a science fiction dystopian novel, surely? Nik Morton is considered a ‘brand’, in effect.

So quite a number of authors over the years have adopted pen names to get out of the ‘brand’ straitjacket – Ruth Rendell became Barbara Vine, for example, and recently J.K. Rowling hid behind Robert Galbraith for The Cuckoo’s Calling, perhaps because she felt she’d never get a dispassionate review as herself. Years ago, Doris Lessing did something similar with the pen name Jane Somers for two books. And yet there are exceptions, of course; she also successfully switched genre from ‘mainstream’ to science fiction with her Canopus in Argos sequence, eschewing a pen name; perhaps the success of her remarkable dystopian novel Memoirs of a Survivor helped.  

 

Nowadays, as any reader or writer knows, publishing is changing. There’s a recognition that maybe readers are happy to read an author no matter the genre she or he writes. Of course there will be those who won’t touch a western or a science fiction novel ever – or not again, not after reading a bad one. (You mean, there are no bad detective, mystery, romance novels? Fancy that!)

Things have become a little blurred for me and my pen name usage. I was commissioned to write a western, chose the title, Bullets for a Ballot, but then baulked at the byline – Nik Morton or Ross Morton. The publisher had published my short stories as Nik Morton, and that was the name most familiar to a US readership, so I clouded the issue and settled on Nik Morton!

I have a horror-crime-romance cross-over novel written as Robert Morton – Death is Another Life. My science fiction and horror short stories were published as both Platen Syder (or Playten Syder!) and Nik Morton, so the confusion persists.

Should a writer use a pen name, then? It’s his or her decision. There’s a great deal of excellent advice and background material on pen names to be found in the blog of Kristine Kathryn Rusch (former editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and an incredibly prolific writer in several genres); just one instance: she wrote the popular novelization of The Tenth Kingdom as Kathryn Wesley. Her blog is: http://kriswrites.com/2013/10/02/the-business-rusch-pen-names/