'The Trains'- Robert Aickman
rba...@hotmail.com
I laughed when I saw Steve Wise's comment about being 'overdosed on Aickman.'
That's not hard to do.
So, here's some MORE.
Text read was from THE FONTANA BOOK OF GREAT GHOST STORIES (Beagle, NY 1971),
though the arrangement was copyrighted in 1966 by Aickman, who edited this
excellent series (for Fontana in England, I presume). The story is originally
from WE ARE FOR THE DARK (Jonathan Cape, London, 1951), the collection
Aickman shares with Elizabeth Jane Howard.
Aickman picked one of his own stories for nearly each of the eight volumes in
this series, which is perfectly all right with me, an instance where egotism
is not the issue, but simple aptness (or as Walter Brennan once said on an
old TV series, 'No brag, just fact.') The interesting thing is that 'The
Trains' is in a GHOST STORY anthology, and yet can be argued (and has been)
as not being one. A ghost story, that is.
I didn't think it was, anyway (SPOILERS AHEAD); I saw it largely as a story
rampant with people and things trying to be what they are not. The 'Quiet
Valley' which is obviously full of train noise, Mimi and Margaret, and their
ambiguously lesbian relationship, Beech the butler (I won't include the
spoiler on THAT!), Wendley Roper writing under the name of 'Howard Bullhead',
and unable to carry on in the shoes of his railroad magnate grandfather (who
got knocked OUT of HIS, by the way!), crazy aunt Roper, who either IS or
ISN'T the ghost in this story, if it has one (and I have a thought about
that, too, which I'll throw out later), a clock that is 5 1/2 hours slow in a
context of trains supposedly running 'on time', etc. etc.
The whole 'waving at trains' business I found to be hilarious, as well-
besides its incongruity at the end, it is used as a female response to a male
device (trains going into tunnels, nudge nudge); having Mimi escape from a
fate worse than death at the hands of Wendley with her pockets stuffed full
of railway tickets was another good one (nowhere left to go, indeed); funny,
I had Mimi pegged as the quasi-lesbian at first, mostly from remarks she made
and her general demeanor, but Margaret's jealousy of her finds its voice when
Wendley prefers her to Margaret, and we discover that Mimi is, besides being
the commoner to Margaret's blue-bloodedness (and moody to her constancy), is
also the attractive one, and actually responds to Wendley's advances. Of
course, that proves nothing either way, even in real life, and certainly not
in an Aickman story.
Anyway, I have a theory that Wendley was the ghost. And I don't think Beech
was doing the waving.
One other thing: on p. 176 of the Beagle( p. 127 in NIGHT VOICES), Aickman
writes:
"Just as they were over the tunnel entrance another train sped downwards.
They looked from above at the blind black roofs of the coaches, like the
caterpillar at the fair with the cover down."
What the hell does THAT mean?! (Interrobang courtesy of Bill B.)
rbadac
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Biddler
Dadgummit, Rbadac, have you ALREADY re-read the 40 pages of "The Trains?" Do
you ever work, or sleep. I got through the first page before my 4-year-old came
running in and leaped on me, and as always I had to wrestle him with one arm
while I protected my books with the other. Four-year-olds and libraries are a
bad match.
I will say now that the story is indeed a mock gothic, I think, or perhaps
Aickman dragging the gothic kicking and screaming into the 20th century. Most
of the time, we aren't immediately cognizant of Aickman "having us on," as they
say, except perhaps in "Growing Boys." I also remember that the story is all
the more weird in that he initially sets up a traditional ghost story with a
desolate house in the valley with figure in window, two weary travelers, pub
scene out of "American Werewolf in London" with wary villagers eyeing the
outsiders and making dark comments about what might lurk on the moors. If the
intent of the story is a bit comic as some of you suggest, the best hint might
be here. This is an early story (1951), but Aickman doesn't traffic much in
hallowed fictional conventions. And that's about all I can say about this one
until I actually revisit the thing.
Rob
Dr. Nick
Well it's been awhile since I read that one. I don't recall any ambiguous
suggestions of lesbianism, just that the fat one seemed jealous of her
companion though I have all but forgotten any fine details in their
relationship. That "American Werewolf in London" touch in the inn lent a
nice unsettling air, but what was the jist of that whole thing? Some kind of
vague warning about the area they were in? Rbadac I hope you'll provide more
details as this is a story I'm a little foggy on, and expound on any
theories you may have. Was the "ghost" a train; The train that killed the
old fellow as he was checking the tracks? I think I'm hopelessly lost on
this one and must defer the discussion to more recent readers, but please
keep this going as I would like to know more.
John
bbar...@peabody.jhu.edu
In article <6g3no5$r4v$1...@nnrp1.dejanews.com>,
rba...@hotmail.com wrote:
> The interesting thing is that 'The
> Trains' is in a GHOST STORY anthology, and yet can be argued (and has been)
> as not being one. A ghost story, that is.
> I didn't think it was, anyway (SPOILERS AHEAD); I saw it largely as a story
> rampant with people and things trying to be what they are not.
Indeed, even the coffee at the inn is not really coffee, but "made from
essence." (Is that the same as instant coffee?)
Upon reading it this time I find it to be a send-up of a gothic story type,
and I think there's an example of it in the OXFORD BOOK OF ENGLISH GHOST
STORIES (I just can't figure out which story): traveller on the moors must
find lodging for the night and happens upon a forbidding old mansion.
Occupying the mansion is the lord of the house and a single servant. The lord
has long been retired from society, and has spent the last several years in
reclusive "research." Here is where "The Trains" diverges from the formula:
Aickman has taken the story template and subsitituted "railways" for "the
black arts". Normally, when the guest is admitted to the inner sanctum, it is
a combination laboratory and library. We should see alembics, retorts,
mortars and pestles, ancient leather-bound volumes with strange and evil
diagrams; instead, the den is the only modern, comfortable room in the house.
When the host presents a book he has written pseudonymously, we expect to see
a grimoire, say, GLIMPSES OF ABSOLUTE POWER by John Strong or something;
instead we see EARLY FISHPLATES. And what does Roper hope to discover? It
must be the terrible secret that his grandfather took to the grave, and that
his aunt could never be compelled to reveal; a secret so terrible, in fact,
that the Old Man ran out in front of a train rather than live with such awful
knowledge. Then there is his servant, who, Igor-like, goes up to the garret
room to secure the final ingredient for his master's great experiment... Did I
mention that It Was a Dark and Stormy Night? I haven't figured out how the
"damsel imprisoned in the tower waving to passing knights for rescue" image
fits in, though, other than it's Aickman once again having fun with a stock
scene.
> "Just as they were over the tunnel entrance another train sped downwards.
> They looked from above at the blind black roofs of the coaches, like the
> caterpillar at the fair with the cover down."
>
> What the hell does THAT mean?! (Interrobang courtesy of Bill B.)
Ditto!
In his autobiography, Aickman explains his placement of a suit of Japanese
armor in the hotel in "Ringing the Changes": as a child he had seen such a
suit and was inexplicably terrified by it; he put it in the story simply
because it was scary to *him*. I'd wager that the "hospital train" anecdote
in "The Trains" has a similar origin. As for the caterpillar at the fair, who
knows? In a case like this you can usually say it's an allusion to Lewis
Carroll without being challenged.
Finally, I have previously maintained that Aickman includes signals in his
stories that we are now leaving the real world and entering the dream world,
and in "The Trains" this sign is pretty explicit, with the passing of the
"different" train and Margaret's realization that she is dreaming. Does she
ever wake up? Is Miss Roper's "ghost" just a vision in a dream? Is it
possible to "explain" *any* Aickman story? I'd like to see someone give "The
Same Dog" a shot...
Bill B.
bbar...@peabody.jhu.edu
Oops, I forgot these other items re: railways-for-black-arts substitution:
"A railway is like an iceberg, you know: very little of its working is visible
to the casual observer," and "Only a small fraction of all the train movements
are in that [the passengers' timetable]. Even the man behind the counter
knows virtually nothing of the rest" equal "There are more things in Heaven
and Earth..."
Biddler
As many before have observed, most of Robert Aickman's stories are literal and
metaphorical journeys in which unforeseen twists and turns of the road confront
the main characters with the truth about themselves. Peter Straub has said
these characters are controlled by "a power over us of what we do not quite
grasp about ourselves and our lives."
"The Trains" is a perfect example. It's a story about the unmarked boundaries
of sexual identity. Margaret and Mimi, whose names evoke their classes) are
from different worlds, socially and psychologically. Margaret is from an upper
crust family, if a bankrupt one (a social level ofinterpretation is peeking out
here). Mimi is a hair-dresser's daughter. Margaret is more refined and confined
in clothing, habits and every other way. Mimi is more in tune with the forces
of nature; when the rains come, she's the one prepared. As such, Mimi has a
gender ambiguity which is a key to this story. Aickman often poses her in
masculine postures, but eventually takes her in the opposite direction. When
the women enter the home of Wembley, he says, "Tomorrow will put a new face on
things." It certainly will--not only on Beech, the "butler," but others.
Aickman draws a link between the lewdly staring man in the coffee house and
Wembley, who echoes his words, then seeks to fulfill what was obviously on the
former's mind.
The trains themselves, of course, are the central symbol. Male engineers wave
from them, oblivious to the women they're waving to. If women wave first, Mimi
says, they won't be noticed. What we find is that a wave may mean different
things. It could be a distress signal. But it will be unheeded, if this story
is any indication. Those trains keep pounding into those tunnels and
disappearing. Throughout the evening, we notice she has heard the trains with a
frequency which precisely parallels her brushes with sexuality in the house.
Finally, she hears a "new train," one which is the most disturbing of all,
casts its own eerie light, and is linked in her memory with a hospital train--a
cargo of sickness. Then she's confronted with something sick sexually.
It is then that Margaret, who began as the most tentative and confused of the
pair, must confront her own situation. She will take action--if violently--and
"wave confidently" to the trains, with blood on her hands. Mimi has an offstage
confrontation the details of which we are spared, but it's awful enough to
paralyze her into inaction. Much is unclear, but it seems apparent in the final
scene that one strong hope for the women is in each other.
This is an early Aickman story, and it's perhaps a bit more transparent in its
symbolism than usual, if no less effective. Aickman is also subtly playing with
gothic conventions, with two travellers (damsels in distress) forced by a storm
into the dark house (literally dark, with railway soot). The thwarted love
affair in the family's past is a convention, as is the princess imprisoned in
the tower. The story is all the more shocking for the departure it makes.
One other note. As perhaps Aickman's central tale in the dual collection We Are
For the Dark, this story's counterpart would be Elizabeth Jane Howard's "Three
Miles Up." In a way that story inverts the formula of this one. Two men with an
ambiguous relationship are travelling, this time by water. This time a woman,
of course, comes between them--one named Sharon. She pilots the boat, taking
the two men to their fate in uncharted waters (they, too, struggle with the
limitations of their map). It has been pointed out (and I think reasonably; no
reason Howard wouldn't be as interested in ancient myth as Aickman) that Sharon
could be Charon, who ferries the ancient boat across the river Styx to the
underworld. If so, we have an inverted sexual role again, in yet another story
of sexual identity. That parallel will break down at some point, of course, but
it's clear the stories have very similar themes.
Rob
Dr. Nick
I'm sure much could be made of the style and symbolism presented in "The
Trains", but that does little to resolve the mystery of the story, such as
it is. Having just done a quick overview of this story I'm left remembering
how odd it must have seemed on a first reading. The question still stands as
to whether or not there is clearly a supernatural element to the story, a
ghost or whatever; if not, then why is it in a book of ghost stories? What
is the deal with "The Quiet Valley", and why is it called that when
apparently there is hardly a moment's piece unbroken by the passing of
trains? Is that eerie final "train", marked only by an unpleasing rattling
noise, merely a textual device or is it indicative of a supernatural
presence; remember, it is closely linked with Margaret's dream (?) vision of
the dead Miss Roper. And what of the piles of seemingly innocuous tickets
Mimi is clasping at the end, accompanied by a sudden inexplicable change of
her outlook to one of grim resignation. For me it is hard to dismiss such
oddities as minor details, mere elements of the stories pastiche of Gothic
fiction; they seem like containing information central to the plot, though
of course Aickman typically understates them to the point where one might
question there significance. Anyhoo, your thoughts are appreciated.
John
rba...@hotmail.com
Yeah! THAT'S what I tune in to this site for!!!
I spent all weekend thinking about it, and suddenly it came to me in a flash
(a sputter, actually) that the 'caterpillar' is AN AMUSEMENT PARK RIDE.
Pardon me for not feeling dumb, though- it's not as if Aickman makes ANYTHING
easy...
Gotta go read 'The Entrance' and 'The Same Dog'. Does EVERYONE on this board
have THE OXFORD BOOK OF ENGLISH GHOST STORIES? Seems like it's become the
standard reference work lately, not that there's anything WRONG with that...
Re-read De La Mare's 'The House' this weekend. Wonderful. It can be found in
his collection THE WIND BLOWS OVER (now good luck finding THAT), possibly
elsewhere. It also contains another favorite of mine, 'Strangers And
Pilgrims'.
Also found myself looking at a reprint of his THE THREE ROYAL MONKEYS (THE
THREE MULLA-MULGARS), a very charming children's fantasy; in the introduction
by Richard Adams (of WATERSHIP DOWN fame, not to mention THE GIRL IN A SWING
for all you ghost fans- did any of you catch the film of this?), he states
that De La Mare wrote this at the same time as he wrote THE RETURN, in fact,
on alternate days. Boy, that must have been weird.
rbadac
Biddler
Just a bit more on "The Trains." First, I don't think we should make too much
of the fact that he put it in a book of ghost stories. It's been pointed out he
made lots of odd selections for his "ghost" anthologies, such as "Levitation"
by Joseph Payne Brennan, which has nothing anywhere close to a ghost. Aickman
was no ghostly-fundamentalist, to coin a phrase. He was interested in the
atmosphere of mystery, and he was certainly not interested in resolving all the
plot elements. If you can untangle all the mysteries in his story, you've taken
a wrong turn. He's interested in the mysteries we're all left with in life, the
creepy things we're confronted with we can never quite decide about. I think
everyone has one Aickman story that just DRIVES THEM CRAZY! For me, it was "The
Hospice." I DEMAND answers at the end of that one! For others, I think it's
"The Trains," though I can personally handle the questions I'm left with at the
end of that one. But I don't think the author's intent is for us to decode the
story into a logical, linear progression of events.
Rob
rba...@hotmail.com
In article <3528d...@nachos.wr.com.au>,
"Dr. Nick" <cro...@wr.com.au> wrote:
>
> I'm sure much could be made of the style and symbolism presented in "The
> Trains", but that does little to resolve the mystery of the story, such as
> it is. Having just done a quick overview of this story I'm left remembering
> how odd it must have seemed on a first reading. The question still stands as
> to whether or not there is clearly a supernatural element to the story, a
My question also- and if it IS a ghost story, which is the ghost? Aunt Roper?
Wendely? The Trains themselves (or at least one of them, anyway)?
What
> is the deal with "The Quiet Valley", and why is it called that when
> apparently there is hardly a moment's piece unbroken by the passing of
> trains?
That's probably from everybody always yelling, 'QUIET!'
Is that eerie final "train", marked only by an unpleasing rattling
> noise, merely a textual device or is it indicative of a supernatural
> presence; remember, it is closely linked with Margaret's dream (?) vision of
> the dead Miss Roper.
That's gotta be it. Rob mentioned earlier that each train matched a sexual
encounter in the house, which was something I hadn't noticed until he pointed
it out. What a character, that Aickman.
And what of the piles of seemingly innocuous tickets
> Mimi is clasping at the end, accompanied by a sudden inexplicable change of
> her outlook to one of grim resignation.
Rape! Now she's been around the block, seen a few things, had her fare
punched, no place left to go, she's got a ticket to ride and she don't care,
etc.
For me it is hard to dismiss such
> oddities as minor details, mere elements of the stories pastiche of Gothic
> fiction; they seem like containing information central to the plot, though
> of course Aickman typically understates them to the point where one might
> question there significance. Anyhoo, your thoughts are appreciated.
> John
>
Man, we are READING these damn stories, aren't we? I'm with you, Dr. Nick!
When the going gets weird, the weird turn journalist.
death...@hotmail.com
In article <199804061706...@ladder01.news.aol.com>,
bid...@aol.com (Biddler) wrote:
>
> Just a bit more on "The Trains." First, I don't think we should make too
much
But in the introduction to the Fontana book in which the Trains appears,
Aickman takes about the "ghosts" (for which he may have a broad definition)
represented in each of the stories, and of the Trains he says something to
the effect of , well, sometimes you can't tell if it really is a ghost; it
presumably being whatever it is that one might confuse for a ghost. The thing
is, nobody knows what exactly we should be considering the ghost of this
story; I can't buy the idea that it's the Wendal bloke, too ordinary an
oddball, and Miss Roper seems to have been eliminated as a suspect. So maybe
it is a train? Or possibly a cake which mysteriously materializes in Mr.
Roper's study.
. He's interested in the mysteries we're all left with in life, the
> creepy things we're confronted with we can never quite decide about. I think
> everyone has one Aickman story that just DRIVES THEM CRAZY! For me, it was
"The
> Hospice." I DEMAND answers at the end of that one! For others, I think it's
> "The Trains," though I can personally handle the questions I'm left with at
the
> end of that one. But I don't think the author's intent is for us to decode
the
> story into a logical, linear progression of events.
> Rob
>
I agree the lingering mystery is the point, it's just damn annoying when it
seems so cleverly crafted. Hell, maddening Aickman stories; to paraphrase a
potato chip selling point: how can you pick just one?
Cheers,
John
StoOdin101
>> They looked from above at the blind black roofs of the coaches, like
>the
>> caterpillar at the fair with the cover down."
>>
>> What the hell does THAT mean?! (Interrobang courtesy of Bill B.)<
A "Caterpillar" is a train-like ride in a carnival: 8 or 9 cars, tied together,
going around in a wobbly, dipping circle. A tarpaulin cover comes up over the
riders at intervals, putting them in darkness. I never thought it was much of a
ride, myself.
NECRONOMICON, all-instrumental electronic music inspired by H.P.Lovecraft, now
available on c-60 cassette. E-mail StoOd...@aol.com for details.
rba...@hotmail.com
In article <199804130717...@ladder01.news.aol.com>,
hurt. It's a wonder I read any Aickman at all...
I want one of those cassettes, too. Is it electronic music as in Gyorgi
Ligeti, or as in Tomita? Or Morton Subotnick? Or Tangerine Dream?
rbadac