Uncovering a Secret Masterpiece

Robert Westall – The Stones of Muncaster Cathedral

Reviewed by Barry Lee Dejasu

It’d be impossible for me to review this book without mentioning my personal history with it. Written by English writer Robert Westall (1929-1993), The Stones of Muncaster Cathedral was one of many books that I delved into during my formative years of exploring horror fiction, amongst other younger audience-aimed works by authors such as R. L. Stine and the television series Are You Afraid of the Dark? It was a bit of a departure from my then-usual fare, with a much quieter and more subtle approach to its brand of supernatural horror. Although my memories of certain details of the book deteriorated and eroded over time, I always remembered and valued it for its disquieting vibe. And while it always stayed with me as a favorite, I was generally an audience of one when I would bring up this book, and it didn’t help that it was largely out of print in the decades since. Much to my joy, however, in 2015, the publisher Valancourt Books reprinted this fantastic work—and now a much wider audience has the chance to finally check it out.

First published by Viking in 1991 with haunting cover art by Bob Harvey, the full title was originally The Stones of Muncaster Cathedral: Two Stories of the Supernatural. This was unknown to me at the time, as the 1993 Farrar Straus Giroux edition that I read only featured the title work. But thankfully, Valancourt’s reprint restores the original text to feature the additional story, “Brangwyn Gardens,” for the first time in the U.S., as well as a thoughtful and insightful new introduction by the great weird fiction author Orrin Grey. With both works finally reunited in a handsome new edition, my reread of The Stones of Muncaster Cathedral was a very rewarding one—and even more than I had expected.

The title work is the narrative of a steeplejack, Joe Clark, who recounts his story of working on the eponymous cathedral and the secret, ancient horrors that he discovers, built into its very walls. As the covers imply, a gargoyle plays a key role in this story—but this isn’t the kind in which the stone monster comes to life at night. (There’s not even a very clear description of it, beside passing descriptions of it as a “ugly sod” with a “lichen-mottled face and blind, hollow eyes.”) No, the real horrors manifest more in how the cathedral itself seems to affect the lives—and families—of the people who labor to restore its architecture. It’s a fine work of folk horror, with an unusually atheist protagonist who doesn’t find comfort in the notion of a monotheistic deity watching out for him, leaving the mysterious forces at work truly out of his perception as well as control.

Although marketed to younger readers (as was the case with most of his work), Stones holds a good number of scenes, descriptions, and themes which will resonate strongly with older audiences, including a particular discovery that Joe makes which, upon rereading it, surprised me with its dark implications. Westall’s storytelling wears its influences on its sleeve, bringing to mind the works of classic horror authors such as M. R. James, while bringing his own style of an almost matter-of-fact perspective of the stories’ events. His depictions of the uncanny often loom just beyond the periphery of characters’ perceptions. But it’s this same narrative style which also perfectly showcases his sense of humor—there are moments in Stones that are worth a literal laugh, bringing a sense of ease and even comfort with his voice, like sitting around a campfire and listening to a seasoned storyteller spinning dark tales.

My reread of Stones didn’t just refresh my memories of it; rather, it enriched them. I greatly enjoyed getting back into the mind of Joe Clark and his amusingly stubborn attitude as he experiences and investigates the strange nature of the titular cathedral, as well as bringing new light to eerie scenes that have long stuck with me. It was a nostalgic trip for me, to be sure, while also one that cemented (…if you’ll pardon an unintended pun) my love for it.

As great as it was for me to reread the title work, it was a treat to finally read the other story that had been omitted out of the edition I’d grown up with. “Brangwyn Gardens” was a wholly different tale, one set in the decade following the Second World War, in which a young student takes residence in an old house. There, he discovers a hidden diary of a young woman in the thick of the war, and he begins to develop a romantic yearning as he learns more about her and her story. Although some may find the plot to be a little predictable, it nonetheless radiates Westall’s rich narrative sensibilities, and makes for a fine supplemental tale.

I am so glad that Valancourt Books chose to bring this book back into print, along with other works of his such as Antique Dust (originally published in 1989) and various stories in their new collections Spectral Shadows (2016) and Shadows of War (2019). Robert Westall was a very special storyteller and deserves to be read (and reread) by fans of classic ghost stories from every generation.