Tadiana ✩Night Owl☽'s Reviews > The Turn of the Screw

Me at 50%:


And 75%. And 90%.

I was actually really excited to read this classic Henry James novella, a gothic ghost story published in 1898. A young woman is hired to be the governess for two young orphans by their uncle, whose good looks and charm impress the governess. She wants to impress him in turn with her capability, especially when his main command to her is that she never, NEVER, bother him with any problems or concerns.

She's packed off to the uncle's country estate to meet young Flora and Miles, who are delightful, beautiful children. The housekeeper becomes her friend and confidante. There are just a few odd things: strange noises in the house - footsteps, a child's cry - and Miles has been expelled from his boarding school for mysterious, unnamed reasons. But really everything is just fine. Until she starts seeing a mysterious man and woman appear and disappear, and becomes convinced that they are the ghosts of the prior governess and another employee. And she's certain that the children see these ghosts but won't admit it. Also she's quite sure that these ghosts are out to get the children.

How is she so sure of all these things? Who knows? She just is. And the question is: is she really seeing supernatural manifestations, or is she slowly becoming more and more delusional? or both? And are the children innocent or evil? James includes hints but doesn't ever answer these questions.

It sounds like a fascinating psychological examination, with a narrator who is both unnamed and unreliable. So it surprised me a little when I literally could barely keep my eyes open while I was reading it.



The story is told in a roundabout, murky way, which helps create a sense of confusion. You also have to continually plow through sentences like this one:

They had never, I think, wanted to do so many things for their poor protectress; I mean--though they got their lessons better and better, which was naturally what would please her most--in the way of diverting, entertaining, surprising her; reading her passages, telling her stories, acting her charades, pouncing out at her, in disguises, as animals and historical characters, and above all astonishing her by the "pieces" they had secretly got by heart and could interminably recite.

I think Henry James must have had some sort of allergy to periods. How did he even stay awake while he was writing convoluted sentences like this?

I persevered to the end (not so hard to do when it's only 100 pages), but this story just never grew on me. The whole thing was an odd and murky reading experience, which perhaps Henry James would say was his intent. Too bad it was also so very boring and unsatisfying.

So if you ever have insomnia, I've got the book for you.



I keep thinking maybe I read this wrong because it's such a classic. So I’ll give it another shot. Who knows? Sometimes that works out for me.