The Other End ~ A Rambler's Perspective

The Other End by R. Ellis Roberts is one of my favourite collections. I was thinking recently about my own reactions to the stories—to be precise, I was doing this while walking in the middle of nowhere in the dark—and I came to the conclusion that people who like wandering about the remote countryside frequently, especially in the dark, will most likely react differently to the stories in this collection than those who don't. Whilst only two of the tales are set almost entirely outdoors—'The Hill' and 'The Rabbit Road'—most of them have some part of their action taking place outside, where location and atmosphere are all important.

Even at night and in a remote location, a feeling of safety comes from having intimate knowledge of a path. Familiarity with a route, and the various trees and other object along it, gives a sense of sureness that is absent in an unknown environment. Walkers know this—we’re used to striding along at a decent pace in a place we know well—even in complete darkness—as opposed to stumbling along in one we don’t know at all, where every nearby sound or unusual shadowy shape brings with it a sense of unease. The same can be said, to a lesser extent, in full daylight and sunshine; I’m thinking of the film And Soon the Darkness, which terrified me the first time I watched it (and still does, in fact).

There are vast areas of the planet that contain no human life. But you don't have to go to one of those to feel isolated, unwelcome or threatened... or that you've stepped into a place that doesn't quite belong in the reality you're used to and comfortable with. I've wandered off track enough times to know what it feels like when you trespass into an area where you don't belong. I don't mean that it's private land that belongs to an irate farmer; I'm talking about a place, or something within it, not welcoming my human presence. There's an atmosphere about some locations; the strangeness of them is right—it's real—and it's the presence of a human being that is somehow wrong and odd. And the stories in  The Other End are full of that atmosphere; a place or event is strange, threatening... other... but somehow totally real and accepted without question. And that's what makes it all the more unsettling. As one reviewer wrote, when The Other End was published in 1923, the effectiveness of the stories rests 'on the sense of the vital reality of these unrecognised powers, whose presence seems, indeed, less an intrusion upon our world than upon theirs.'

Anyway, that's what I was thinking about while walking in the woods, in the dark, in the night: that The Other End may be especially suited to ramblers. I just thought I'd share my thoughts with you today, which just happens to be the publication day of the new Nezu Press edition. Oh, and happy Valentine's Day!

PS—If you'd like to buy a copy from Nezu Press, click here.