I really, really, really tried to like
Susan Hill’s
The Woman in Black. Really. I did. I had hoped for a lovely little Gothic Horror (with some good old fashioned spooks); I am bitterly disappointed. Hill’s melodramatic writing makes me throw up a little in my mouth out of pure disgust; her attempts to emulate the fantastic writing of Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw fail spectacularly.
Anyway, I gave it the old college try - I even read the damned thing! – but alas. I hated it. No, despised it. It felt contrived, silly, and, at some points, boring. A horror/suspense should never be boring. I’m sure the movie will be better, though plotline was pretty weak to begin with. It had none of suspense of
The Thirteenth Tale.
The most offensive part, however, has to be the lack of varied diction. Here’s the sentence that many love and at which I cringe: “[i]t was a yellow fog, a filthy, evil-smelling fog, a fog that choked and blinded, smeared and stained.” I feel, as a writer, it’s your job - nay,
your obligation! - to dazzle me with verbiage, serenade me with soliloquy, seduce me with your perspicacity. When you, as a writer, fail to do this, I am not just disappointed, I am outraged. In other words: fog can’t smell evil. It can smell bad, putrid, rotten, desiccated, stale, foul, disgusting, revolting, bilious… but it can’t smell evil. Evil doesn’t have a smell. If you can't effect a sinister atmosphere without using the word "sinister", you need to hand in your writer’s credentials. Immediately.
For those of you who will actually read this tripe, stop here. Spoilers abound below. I would urge you to read something else though. Seriously.