My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The success of airport fiction (Lee Child, P.D. James, etc) speaks to the appetite for books that read like movies. I've certainly read more than my fair share of them, and I won't pretend I don't love them.
But great writing can be more than a succession of scenes and dialogue, as is the case in The Turn of the Screw. Henry James tells the story through feeling, thought, intuition, intangible hints of fear and danger that bring out the extraordinary from the ordinary. (Trying to pick up a Linwood Barclay after finishing TOTS, the narrative seemed impossibly thin.)
At times the prose can become, to the occasional bamboozlement of the modern reader, convoluted with clauses and niceties of speech, but that is of the era. In such a short book, it really doesn't hurt to have to slow down. The story itself is simple, and its those clauses and elaborations that lend it weight.
When it comes to spookiness, it was exactly as tame as I suspected it would be. I've read and watched too much modern horror of various genres for this haunting to really get me. But James whips the emotional turmoil into a frenzy for the climactic scene with brilliant artistry, and his literary muscles really flex.
Unrelated: why do so many classics feel the need to bookend their tales with a meta-narrative of old Brits sitting around at the club swapping yarns? But damn, they told good stories, didn't they?
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