The Mist in the Mirror

Rain, rain all day, all evening, all night, pouring autumn rain. Out in the country, over field and fen and moorland, sweet-smelling rain, borne on the wind. Rain in London, rolling along gutters, gurgling down drains. Street lamps blurred by rain. A policeman walking by in a cape, rain gleaming silver on its shoulders. Rain bouncing on roofs and pavements, soft rain falling secretly in woodland and on dark heath. Rain on London's river, and slanting among the sheds, wharves and quays. Rain on suburban gardens, dense with laurel and rhododendron. Rain from north to south and from east to west, as though it had never rained until now and now might never stop.

Rain on all the silent streets and squares, alleys and courts, gardens and show more churchyards and stone steps and nooks and crannies of the city.

Rain. London. The back end of the year.

Now, I have to tell you right up front, I am going to like a story that begins like that. That is a damn fine little spot of writing right there. I wish I could say that the rest of the story holds up to it. Unfortunately, the author couldn't quite stick the landing on this lovely tale. The writing remains strong, and she weaves the images of water and rising and falling beautifully through the whole work, but the story is too weak. My copy was 185 pages (regardless of what Goodreads thinks of this ISBN), and I really do think that if about 100 of those had been trimmed and the tropes tightened up, this would have been a perfect read.

Hauntings sometimes work if the threat is left vague, with the horrified reactions of the participants of the story allowing the reader to fill in the unspoken with assumptions worse than anything the writer would be able to successfully convey, but that doesn't work here. The story takes too long to build for too little pay-off; the whole first half of the book provides spooky details, but could easily have been sacrificed for the purposes of the story. Also, Hill seemed to have trouble picking a trope and sticking with it. There are ghosts, the mirror of the title, a curse, possible possession, but none of it gets enough time in the limelight to take full shape and carry the story. So, overall, a miss. But a very, very pretty miss. Also, this:

'I take it you've travelled, Mr. Monmouth?'
'Indeed.'
'I have not. I let others travel for me.' He gestured to the books.

Really, I have to love that.

***Review written 10/4/15. Original comments on finishing 10/2/15:
Beautiful writing with a gorgeous weaving of imagery and some genuinely chilling moments, but about 100 pages too long for what it is. Full review to come. show less

This is my very first Susan Hill read. I am a huge fan of Gothic stories with their crumbling mysterious estates, dark secrets and overall feeling of rising unease. Hill follows the classic formula for a Gothic tale so well that I was rather surprised to discover this story was originally published in 1992. This story has the overall atmosphere and writing style of a more historically published work, written in an earlier time period. Hill does a fantastic job creating the overall Gothic feel. The story has a wonderful slow-building quality to it that probably would not appeal to readers who like their action and want their story to unfold at a quicker pace. The "reveal" has its elements of creepiness and horror, without being show more overwhelming.

Overall, a solid piece of Gothic writing and one that I believe would appeal to readers who enjoy stories like Sarah Waters The Little Stranger. show less

Rating: 3.75

This sits somewhere between a ghost story and a character study, with a narrator so emotionally fragile and unmoored that the story often reads more like a psychological portrait than a Gothic mystery.

Our narrator, Monmouth, is a lonely man adrift in England after years abroad, always cold (because India), and always on the edge of fainting at geese, dreams, fog, or, god forbid, cold bedsheets. He is utterly besotted with the elusive Vane, a man he barely knows, which gives the story a distinct whiff of obsession — or projection. You could argue Hill has intentionally coded Monmouth with traits usually given to female Gothic heroines: passive, sensitive, socially awkward, and clinging to the belief that someone or show more something will offer him a purpose. In that sense, it’s a clever pastiche — or parody — of the Radcliffean Gothic.

The "haunting" elements — a mysterious boy, a sense of being watched, the titular mirror — are eerie but never fully materialize into tangible horror. And that’s the point. As with the best classic Gothic, the danger is internalized. Nothing happens... and everything happens. If you read it expecting The Woman in Black, you'll be disappointed. This is less plot-driven and more “cosy Gothic”: low stakes, lots of fog, and a narrator whose biggest enemy may be his own mind.

The final frame narrative ties the whole thing up with a shrug: Monmouth’s tale was forgotten by the man who found it, and the haunted mirror? Just old and pitted. We’re left with the unsettling idea that Monmouth died alone, remembered by no one, his grand quest meaningless. It’s bleak, but not tragic. Just… cold.

Recommended if:

You enjoy medium-paced, atmospheric ghost stories with unreliable narrators.
You don’t need action — just eerie vibes and sad, emotionally fragile men.
You can read it like a Radcliffe novel: no danger, all mood.

Not recommended if:
You want resolution, high stakes, or active characters.
You have no patience for people who swoon over mirrors and complain about damp sheets. show less

This follows on from Hill's Woman In Black, another ghost story in a similar mode. James Monmouth, inveterate traveler, returns to England after a lifetime abroad, intent on researching the life of one Conrad Vane, whose travels inspired his own. Almost immediately upon his arrival in London the spookiness commences, with a mysterious ragged boy popping up in odd corners. As he begins his investigations, he receives warnings and dark hints and strong suggestions not to bother. Unfortunately all those warnings are a bit short on details, and when Monmouth discovers a connection to his own forgotten childhood, he finds himself almost compelled to seek out the truth.

Well, yes, it's great in many ways. Highly readable, richly textured with show more details of Victorian life, strong on atmosphere and character. Bits of it ooze menace and unease, and the whole thing, with its hints of childhood innocence corrupted, is rather strongly suggestive of The Turn Of The Screw. It operates almost as an anti-detective story, where nobody will tell the poor narrator what the hell is going on, every bit as frustrating to the reader as it is to poor James Monmouth. No less than two possibly senile, or maybe just ancient and befuddled characters notably fail to tell him anything informative, but at least they have that excuse. Those of sound mind who drop dark hints and vague suggestions are just downright irresponsible, not letting the poor chap have any idea what he's in for. By the time he gets to North Yorkshire, it's in danger if slipping into self-parody, as people go pale or get upset or mutter darkly every time he so much as looks at them.

An explanation, satisfying but perfunctory, comes at the end, but one wonders if Hill was reluctant to disturb the shape and tone of her elegantly crafted, highly atmospheric, beautifully structured Victorian ghost story with the potentially vastly more gothic melodrama hinted at in the past. This isn't a horror story. This is a ghost story. Which is almost a pity. show less

Title - The Mist In The Mirror

Author - Susan Hill

Summary -

One night a young man, having supper in his private club and carrying on with his friends of the existence of a ghost on the club's grounds is asked by one of the elder statesmen the following question:

"..You...believe?"
"Believe? Oh as to that..." I made a dismissive gesture. The topic was not one I wanted to raise again, in the late, silent street.
I have...a story. It is in my possession...which perhaps you might care to read..."

The young man is given a package which tells the tale of the elder club member, Sir James Monmouth, a young orphan, who has explored all around the globe, following in the footsteps of his idol; Conrad Vane. His final destination being London as he show more seeks further knowledge into the life of Conrad Vane. It is Monmouth's desire to write a book about his idol. But instead he is greeted with warnings and dire predictions by those he meets and questions about Vane.

"...Then Dancer said, his voice almost a whisper. "Whoever touches, explores, follows after Vane, will be run mad, and will never afterward rest his head or enjoy his peace or have a home. He will be haunted. He will be cursed. I saw what lay ahead, Monmouth, I drew back..."

Monmouth is not deterred. Despite the warnings. Despite the history of those who have followed Vane and perished. Despite the ghostly figure of a small child that he spies everywhere he goes. Monmouth goes on. His investigation eventually brings him to Kittiscar and a mystery he had no knowledge of.
In Kittiscar Hall is the last known surviving member of a family. The family of Monmouth. The family James Monmouth was orphaned from. Before he can question her, she passes away, leaving the Hall and all the family riches to James. But she leaves him with something else.

"...She continued to stare at me but now a look of almost horror crossed her features when she spoke, her voice a whisper.
"You surely are not planning to live here at Kittiscar?"
"Why certainly I am! I have no other home. I am the heir to the house, am I not?"
"But you cannot...surely you will not."
"Why do you say so?"
"Because...because you are a Monmouth and a man..."

It is here in Kittiscar Hall that James Monmouth must come face to face with the true nature of Conrad Vane, with the legacy of the Monmouth family and the clouded features that in the mist in the mirror.

Review -

Gothic Horror. Ghost Story. Things that go bump in the night.
This is the real thing.
Susan Hill writes fog heavy, English countryside, atmospheric tension, old time Saturday morning, black and white horror like you grew up with. Boris Karloff and Christopher Lee could literally step off these pages.
Like her novel, The Woman In Black; not the slow moving Daniel Radcliff movie, but the book itself; The Mist in the Mirror, moves steadily, building tension and fear as it slowly unravels the mystery behind the legacy that James Monmouth has unwittingly inherited.
This novel is what true horror novels were before the need to splash buckets of blood on every page became the standard.
A really good read. show less

3.5*

This is an enjoyable slice of Victoriana which evokes the feel of classic ghost stories.

James Monmouth, orphaned at the age of 5, and raised by a guardian in Kenya, returns to England 35 years later after long exotic journeys in the East. His travels have been inspired by the feats of an enigmatic explorer named Conrad Vane. Monmouth hopes that once settled down in his native country, he can research the early life of Vane, which is surprisingly little-known. However, several people seem determined to put him off his quest with ominous warnings. And a wraithlike boy is of their same opinion as he keeps following Monmouth and haunting him with looks of abject misery.

I would not call this an exceptional novel. It does not bring show more anything particularly new to the genre, but on the other hand, it is this very familiarity of context and well-known tropes which give it its appeal. Susan Hill is a consummate writer of supernatural tales and is steeped in the tradition - as a result, the narrative style and the setting (whether dark, frosty London streets; club smoking rooms, country mansions or desolate moors) are authentic and atmospheric. I was less convinced about the ending and the cursory "explanation" given for the hauntings. After the steady build-up, the final few pages of Monmouth 's account felt rather anti-climactic.

All in all, however, this novel is a fun spooky read and I guess would be particularly apt as a ghost story for Christmas given that considerable sections are set during the festive season. show less

This is another one of Susan Hill's chilling novels, though this is longer than her others, I thought perhaps a bit too long, with the writing somewhat less taut than in her novellas such as The Small Hand and The Man in the Picture. It's still powerful writing, though; as usual, she creates a very strong atmosphere of creepy horror, and a deep sense of timelessness, otherworldliness and isolation, with even scenes set in central London feeling that there is hardly anyone else living there beyond the handful of people involved in the plot. Very good, if not quite her best.