You probably know Oscar Wilde from his iconic Gothic novel The Picture of Dorian Gray (and its unfortunate role in his trial for homosexuality). He is also widely celebrated for his comedic plays, like The Importance of Being Earnest. But less well-known is a delightful little piece that combines Wilde’s Gothic sensibilities with his biting sense of humor: The Canterville Ghost (1887) is a short story that parodies common elements of the typical ghost story while also satirizing differences in attitude and behavior between Americans and the British.
At the beginning of the story, a practical-minded American diplomat, Mr. Otis, purchases the ancient British estate of Canterville Chase from the current Lord Canterville and brushes off any warnings about the resident ghost. When he first moves in with his wife and four children, none of them believe in the supernatural. But soon they cannot deny the uncanny reappearance of a bloodstain in the library each morning and the spectral form that can be seen rattling his chains in the hallway at night. Instead of reacting with fear, the family’s responses are hilariously practical, materialistic, and modern—using brand-name stain remover to get rid of the recurring bloodstain and offering the ghost medicine when his most menacing laugh is mistaken for indigestion. The ghost becomes increasingly frustrated with his failure to haunt the Otis family, which is exacerbated by the fact that the two youngest children humiliate him with a series of practical jokes. However, the daughter of the family, Virginia, takes pity on the ghost and the ending is surprisingly heartfelt.
The Canterville Ghost is a pastiche of the Gothic ghost story, and just about every character and element of the story is an exaggerated caricature. The house itself seems like an amalgamation of every haunted house that ever existed. The black-paneled walls of the library and constant storms overhead serve to create a classic gloomy atmosphere. The medieval decor and secret passageways speak to the house’s storied history and dark secrets, while the stained-glass windows contain an ancient prophecy. Old Mrs. Umney, who came with the house, embodies the creepy housekeeper trope, declaiming the house’s dark legacy in a somber voice and fainting at an eerily timed peal of thunder. That legacy is several layers deep and involves a woman who was murdered by her husband, the drawn-out death of the murderer at the hands of his victim’s family, and an excessive number of people over the generations who have subsequently been scared to death or driven mad by the murderer’s ghost. With so many tales of death and woe, the house is just about as haunted as it is possible to be.
The character of the ghost, Sir Simon, exemplifies the parodic aspect of the story. Far from the scary specter of local legend, Sir Simon comes off as purely humorous and rather pitiful. Much of the story’s comedy comes from the way that traditional horror elements are incompatible with practical modernity. Sir Simon doesn’t know how to react when his ominous moans and hysterical laughter are met with stern chastising and solicitous advice from the Otis family, and his accustomed techniques of terror don’t work on people so steadfastly un-superstitious. The ghost is also rendered more comedic than frightening by the way the story highlights the overly deliberate and theatrical nature of his hauntings. The reader is given glimpses into the ghost’s perspective as he digs through his spectral wardrobe, spends hours on his makeup, and contemplates which of his legendary personas and classic scare tactics would be best suited to the occasion. Another consequence of reading from the ghost’s perspective is that the reader is privy to Sir Simon’s thoughts and emotions, such as when he becomes frightened by a fake ghost rigged up by the twins or when he feels too intimidated to leave his chamber for fear of encountering their vicious pranks—the only thing more pathetic than a ghost who is afraid of other ghosts, is one who is afraid of small children! There is also, of course, the physical comedy of seeing a ghost slip down a butter slide or get splashed by the classic water bucket above the door. All in all, despite starring in such local legends as “Martin the Maniac, or the Masked Mystery” and “Reckless Rupert, or the Headless Earl,” Sir Simon spends more of the story tripping, falling, and cowering in fear than successfully scaring anyone.
In fact, the only non-comedic character in the story is Virginia, the Otises’ daughter, who fulfills the role of Gothic heroine with gravitas and sincerity. Virginia is the one member of the family who does not insult the ghost or laugh at his expense, though she does not seem to be afraid of him either. Instead, like Christine Daaé in The Phantom of the Opera, Virginia feels compassion for the specter despite his crimes. Like Jane Eyre, her moral compass is firm, and she tells the ghost “It is very wrong to kill anyone.” Yet she still seeks to relieve his suffering and risks her own life to help him find peace. Virginia is also at the heart of the only truly scary part of the story. While Virginia is off putting Simon’s soul to rest, her family realizes that their daughter is missing and embarks on a desperate nighttime search. For a moment, this comedy is transformed into a gut-wrenching tale of suspense while Virginia’s father and lover race from town to town seeking any sign of the imperiled young maiden. When Virginia finally returns from unknown realms, she is granted the traditional fairy-tale ending for Gothic heroines. Sir Simon rewards her with a box of jewels, and the story ends with her marriage to a duke.
Though The Canterville Ghost exaggerates Gothic tropes and pokes fun at the traditional ghost story, it still maintains some genuine Gothic sentiment. You can read The Canterville Ghost online for free at Project Gutenberg. Feel free to share your thoughts on the story in the comments, and let me know what other classic works you would like me to cover!