The Turn of the Screw

The Turn of the Screw

by Henry James

Paperback(Reprint)

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Overview

James's chilling ghost story of innocence and evil

One summer a young governess is sent to take charge of Miles and Flora, two beautiful, charming orphans living in a country house. But silence covers their past. Then the servants reappear who, before they died, had looked after the children. As winter closes in, the young governess struggles to keep her charges from the unnatural influences which they seem strangely to desire.

Terror makes this a ghost story, while uncertainty makes it horrifying. Are the apparitions the governess' invention? And if so, does the evil lie not in the children, but in love–sick young women– and in adult society itself?

The most comprehensive paperback edition available, with introduction, notes and chronology of James Life and times

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780460872997
Publisher: Tuttle Publishing
Publication date: 09/15/1993
Series: Everyman Paperback Classics
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 176
Product dimensions: 5.00(w) x 7.75(h) x 0.70(d)
Age Range: 12 - 18 Years

About the Author

Henry James is best known for writing The Portrait of a Lady, The Ambassadors, and The Wings of the Dove. His later works were increasingly experimental, and were often described as literature's equivalent to an impressionist painting. His novella The Turn of the Screw is one of the most analyzed ghost stories in the English language. He was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1911, 1912, and 1916.

Date of Birth:

April 15, 1843

Date of Death:

February 28, 1916

Place of Birth:

New York, New York

Place of Death:

London, England

Education:

Attended school in France and Switzerland; Harvard Law School, 1862-63

Read an Excerpt

The Turn of the Screw


By James, Henry

Tor Books

Copyright © 1993 James, Henry
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9780812533415


one
 
 
I remember the whole beginning as a succession of flights and drops, a little see-saw of the right throbs and the wrong. After rising, in town, to meet his appeal I had at all events a couple of very bad days---found all my doubts bristle again, felt indeed sure I had made a mistake. In this state of mind I spent the long hours of bumping swinging coach that carried me to the stopping-place at which I was to be met by a vehicle from the house. This convenience, I was told, had been ordered, and I found, toward the close of the June afternoon, a commodious fly in waiting for me. Driving at that hour, on a lovely day, through a country the summer sweetness of which served as a friendly welcome, my fortitude revived and, as we turned into the avenue, took a flight that was probably but a proof of the point to which it had sunk. I suppose I had expected, or had dreaded, something so dreary that what greeted me was a good surprise. I remember as a thoroughly pleasant impression the broad clear front, its open windows and fresh curtains and the pair of maids looking out; I remember the lawn and the bright flowers and the crunch of my wheels on the gravel and the clustered tree-tops over which the rooks circled and cawed in the golden sky. The scene had a greatness that made it a different affair from my own scant home, and there immediately appeared at the door, with alittle girl in her hand, a civil person who dropped me as decent a curtsey as if I had been the mistress or a distinguished visitor. I had received in Harley Street a narrower notion of the place, and that, as I recalled it, made me think the proprietor still more of a gentleman, suggested that what I was to enjoy might be a matter beyond his promise.
I had no drop again till the next day, for I was carried triumphantly through the following hours by my introduction to the younger of my pupils. The little girl who accompanied Mrs. Grose affected me on the spot as a creature too charming not to make it a great fortune to have to do with her. She was the most beautiful child I had ever seen, and I afterwards wondered why my employer hadn't made more of a point to me of this. I slept little that night-I was too much excited; and this astonished me too, I recollect, remained with me, adding to my sense of the liberality with which I was treated. The large impressive room, one of the best in the house, the great state bed, as I almost felt it, the figured full draperies, the long glasses in which, for the first time, I could see myself from head to foot, all struck me--like the wonderful appeal of my small charge--as so many things thrown in. It was thrown in as well, from the first moment, that I should get on with Mrs. Grose in a relation over which, on my way, in the coach, I fear I had rather brooded. The one appearance indeed that in this early outlook might have made me shrink again was that of her being so inordinately glad to see me. I felt within half an hour that she was so glad---stout simple plain clean wholesome woman--as to be positively on her guard against showing it too much. I wondered even then a little why she should wish not to show it, and that, with reflexion, with suspicion, might of course have made me uneasy.
But it was a comfort that there could be no uneasiness in a connexion with anything so beatific as the radiant image of my little girl, the vision of whose angelic beauty had probably more than anything else to do with the restlessness that, before morning, made me several times rise and wander about my room to take in the whole picture and prospect; to watch from my open window the faint summer dawn, to look at such stretches of the rest of the house as I could catch, and to listen, while in the fading dusk the first birds began to twitter, for the possible recurrence of a sound or two, less natural and not without but within, that I had fancied I heard. There had been a moment when I believed I recognised, faint and far, the cry of a child; there had been another when I found myself just consciously starting as at the passage, before my door, of a light footstep. But these fancies were not marked enough not to be thrown off, and it is only in the light, or the gloom, I should rather say, of other and subsequent matters that they now come back to me. To watch, teach, "form" little Flora would too evidently be the making of a happy and useful life. It had been agreed between us downstairs that after this first occasion I should have her as a matter of course at night, her small white bed being already arranged, to that end, in my room. What I had undertaken was the whole care of her, and she had remained just this last time with Mrs. Grose only as an effect of our consideration for my inevitable strangeness and her natural timidity. In spite of this timidity--which the child herself, in the oddest way in the world, had been perfectly frank and M brave about, allowing it, without a sign of uncomfortable consciousness, with the deep sweet serenity indeed of one of Raphael's holy infants, to be discussed, to be imputed to her and to determine us--I felt quite sure she would presently like me. It was part of what I already liked Mrs. Grose herself for, the pleasure I could see her feel in my admiration and wonder as I sat at supper with four tall candles and with my pupil, in a high chair and a bib, brightly facing me between them over bread and milk. There were naturally things that in Flora's presence could pass between us only as prodigious and gratified looks, obscure and round-about allusions.
"And the little boy--does he look like her? Is he too so very remarkable?"
One wouldn't, it was already conveyed between us, too grossly flatter a child. "Oh Miss, most remarkable. If you mink well of this one!"--and she stood there with a plate in her hand, beaming at our companion, who looked from one of us to the other with placid heavenly eyes that contained nothing to check us.
"Yes; if I do--?"
"You will be carried away by the little gentleman!"
"Well, that, I think, is what I came for--to be carried away. I'm afraid, however," I remember feeling the impulse to add, "I'm rather easily carried away. I was carried away in London!"
I can still see Mrs. Grose's broad face as she took this in. "In Harley Street?"
"In Harley Street."
"Well, Miss, you're not the first--and you won't be the last."
"Oh I've no pretensions," I could laugh, "to being the only one. My other pupil, at any rate, as I understand, comes back to-morrow?"
"Not to-morrow--Friday, Miss. He arrives, as you did, by the coach, under care of the guard, and is to be met by the same carriage."
I forthwith wanted to know if the proper as well as the pleasant and friendly thing wouldn't therefore be that on the arrival of the public conveyance I should await him with his little sister; a proposition to which Mrs. Grose assented so heartily that I somehow took her manner as a kind of comforting pledge--never falsified, thank heaven!--that we should on every question be quite at one. Oh she was glad I was there!
What I felt the next day was, I suppose, nothing that could be fairly called a reaction from the cheer of my arrival; it was probably at the most only a slight oppression produced by a fuller measure of the scale, as I walked round them, gazed up at them, took them in, of my new circumstances. They had, as it were, an extent and mass for which I had not been prepared and in the presence of which I found myself, freshly, a little scared not less than a little proud. Regular lessons, in this agitation, certainly suffered some wrong; I reflected that my first duty was, by the gentlest arts I could contrive, to win the child into the sense of knowing me. I spent the day with her out of doors; I arranged with her, to her great satisfaction, that it should be she, she only, who might show me the place. She showed it step by step and room by room and secret by secret, with droll delightful childish talk about it and with the result, in half an hour, of our becoming tremendous friends. Young as she was I was struck, throughout our little tour, with her confidence and courage, with the way, in empty chambers and dull corridors, on crooked staircases that made me pause and even on the summit of an old machicolated square tower that made me dizzy, her morning music, her disposition to tell me so many more things than she asked, rang out and led me on. I have not seen Bly since the day I left it, and I dare say that to my present older and more informed eyes it would show a very reduced importance. But as my little conductress, with her hair of gold and her frock of blue, danced before me round corners and pattered down passages, I had the view of a castle of romance inhabited by a rosy sprite, such a place as would somehow, for diversion of the young idea, take all colour out of story-books and fairytales. Wasn't it just a story-book over which I had fallen a-doze and a-dream? No; it was a big ugly antique but convenient house, embodying a few features of a building still older, half-displaced and half-utilised, in which I had the fancy of our being almost as lost as a handful of passengers in a great drifting ship. Well, I was strangely at the helm!
 
All new material copyright ; 1993 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

Continues...

Excerpted from The Turn of the Screw by James, Henry Copyright © 1993 by James, Henry. Excerpted by permission.
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Table of Contents

Introduction ix

The Text of The Turn of the Screw 3

Compositional History 93

Textual Notes 96

Contexts 103

James, The Ghost Story, and The Supernatural 105

To Thomas Sergeant Perry [So Much for Cora] Henry James 105

A Notebook Entry [Subject for a Ghost-Story] 106

A Notebook Entry [Another Theme of the Same Kind] 107

From a Preface [The Whole Fairy-Tale Side of Life] 107

To Theodate Pope Riddle [Beneath Comment or Criticism] 112

James on The Turn of The Screw 115

A Notebook Entry [Idea of a Servant Suspected] Henry James 115

A Notebook Entry [Grose] 115

A Notebook Entry [Note Here the Ghost-Story] 116

To Alice [Mrs. William] James [Finished My Little Book] 116

To A. C. Benson [Of the Ghostly and Ghastly] 117

To Paul Bourget [A Little Volume Just Published] 118

To Dr. Waldstein [My Bogey-Tale Dealt with Things So Hideous] 119

To H. G. Wells [The Thing Is Essentially a Pot-Boiler] 120

To F. W. H. Myers [The TV of the S. Is a Very Mechanical Matter] 121

To W. D. Howells [Another Duplex Book Like the "Two Magics"] 122

A Notebook Entry [Something as Simple as The Turn of the Screw] 124

To W. D. Howells [To Concoct a "Ghost" of Any Freshness] 125

Preface to the New York Edition [An Exercise of the Imagination] 127

Other Possible Sources for The Turn of The Screw 135

The Genesis of "The Turn of the Screw" Robert Lee Wolff 135

Psychical Research and "The Turn of the Screw" Francis X. Roellinger, Jr. 137

The Turn of the Screw and Alice James Oscar Cargill 141

[Moral Anxiety, Vulgar Sexuality, and the Victorian Governess] Mary Poovey 146

[Pure and Strangely Erotic: The Victorian Child] James R. Kincaid 153

Adaptations and Illustrations 161

Illustration in Collier's Weekly (February 12, 1898) Eric Pape 164

Illustration in Collier's Weekly (March 5, 1898) 165

Illustration in Collier's Weekly(February 12, 1898) John La Farge 166

At a House in Hurley Street Charles Demuth 167

The Governess First Sees the Ghost of Peter Quint 167

Flora and the Governess 168

The Governess, Mrs. Grose and the Children 168

Miles and the Governess 169

The Innocents Film Stills 169

Los Angeles Opera Britten's The Turn of the Screw (2011) 170

Glyndebourne Festival Opera Britten's The Turn of the Screw (2014) 171

Britten's The Turn of the Screw (2011) 171

Selected Stage and Screen Adaptations, 1950-2020 172

Criticism 175

Early Reactions: 1898-1926 177

The New York Times Magic of Evil and Love 177

Joseph Conrad To Ford Madox Ford [An Intellectual Thrill] 178

New York Tribune A Masterpiece Mr. Henry James 178

To Oliver Lodge [The Little Boy Feels Pederastic Passion] F. W. H. Myers 180

The Outlook [The Story Is Distinctly Repulsive] 180

To the Hon. A. E. Bontine [A Kind of Phosphorescent Trail] Joseph Conrad 181

Academy Portraits: Mr. Henry James Henry Harland 181

The Bookman Mr. James's New Book 182

Droch Henry James as a Ghost Raiser 183

On Books at Christmas John D. Barry 184

The American Monthly Review of Reviews Two Volumes Henry James 184

The Independent [The Most Hopelessly Evil Story] 185

Oscar Wilde To Robert Ross [Wonderful, Lurid, Poisonous] 185

The Chautauquan [Psychic Phenomena] 186

[Facts, or Delusions] Oliver Elton 186

Henry James, and the Ghostly A. R. Orage 187

[Henry James's Ghosts] Virginia Woolf 188

[Merely Declining to Think About Homosex] E. M. Forster 189

Major and Recent Criticism 191

A Pre-Freudian Reading of The Turn of the Screw Harold C. Goddard 191

Henry James to the Ruminant Reader: The Turn of the Screw Edna Kenton 199

The Ambiguity of Henry James Edmund Wilson 201

The Freudian Reading of The Turn of the Screw Robert B. Heilman 203

Introduction to Stories of the Supernatural Leon Edel 210

From The Secret of Narrative Tzvetan Todorov 212

Turning the Screw of Interpretation Shoshana Felman 215

James: Twists of the Governess Henry Sussman 231

Recognition: Servant in the Ending Bruce Robbins 241

Screwing with Children in Henry James Ellis Hanson 244

The Turn of the Screw, or: the Dispossessed Hearts of Little Gentlemen Eric Haralson 252

Turning the Screw Again: The Precocious Colonial Child in Henry James's Story Paul Sharrad 260

An Innocence Worse Than Evil in The Turn of the Screw Michelle H. Phillips 267

Material Turns of the Screw: The Collier's Weekly Serialization of The Turn of the Screw (1898) Kirsten MacLeod 276

A Chronology Henry James 285

Suggestions for Further Reading 289

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