The Green Book 24

Editor’s Note #24

In Issue 23 of The Green Book we featured a sketch of Charles Maturin (1782-1824) penned by James Clarence Mangan, originally published in March 1849. Although we now celebrate Maturin as the author of Melmoth the Wanderer (1820), Mangan identified The Milesian Chief (1812) as his own favourite novel: “the grandest of all Maturin’s productions”. In that essay, Mangan also muses on Maturin’s underappreciated legacy in his native Dublin—“not forgotten because he had never been thought about”. He goes on tell us that the writer William Godwin wished to make a pilgrimage to Maturin’s grave, but Mangan observes, “where the remains of my distinguished countryman repose, I confess I know not”.

The answer to that question in 1849 would have been simple: the churchyard of St. Peter’s on Aungier Street, where Maturin once served as curate. The answer to that same question in 2024, as we approach the bicentenary of Maturin’s death on 30 October, is substantially more complex: St. Peter’s was razed in 1980, the churchyard and its contents removed to make way for urban development. And so what of Maturin’s admirers who, like Mangan, would make that pilgrimage to the Gothic eccentric’s final resting place? Thankfully, opening this issue we have Fergal O’Reilly’s exploration of this literary mystery, taking us on a posthumous odyssey from Aungier Street to various churches and churchyards across Dublin, by way of various archaeological reports, in search of Maturin’s earthly remains—a puzzle worthy of Yeats’s own skeletal jumble. Readers interested in learning more about Charles Maturin will find a full biographical profile written by Albert Power in Issue 12.

In keeping with the forgotten and overlooked, we have another crop of profiles from our “Guide to Irish Writers of the Fantastic and Supernatural” series, although it strikes me that many of these names will hopefully be familiar to most: Maria Edgeworth, Katharine Tynan, and Dorothy Macardle; these writers do, however, rub shoulders with the truly lesser known likes of Filson Young, Shaw Desmond, and Martin Waddell. As always, I hope you will discover new literary paths to explore with these new entries.

And finally, Bernice M. Murphy weighs in on the freshly restored and re-released Irish “folk horror” film The Outcasts (1982), written and directed by Robert Wynne-Simmons—a name some will recognise as the screenwriter of The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971). For some in Ireland, this film is a dim but impressive memory, glimpsed on late-night television during its only broadcast in 1984. The Outcasts over the decades became a piece of Irish cinema legend, less seen and more peppered into conversations revolving around obscure celluloid. The Irish Film Institute describes this film as “folk horror”, a phrase I find too liberally applied these days to just about anything featuring sticks, rocks, and goats or set in the countryside. The Outcasts does not necessarily strive for the ultimate unified effect of horror. Instead, this film is of a rarer breed, more akin to Penda’s Fen (1974) in its otherworldly ruminations. I’ve come to prefer the phrase “folk revelation” as perhaps a more accommodating description for these sorts of stories. Whatever the case, I hope you get to see this remarkable film.

Brian J. Showers
Æon House, Dublin
25 September 2024

About The Green Book

Aimed at a general readership and published twice-yearly, The Green Book is Swan River Press’s house journal that features commentaries, articles, and reviews on Irish Gothic, Supernatural and Fantastic literature.

Certainly favourites such as Bram Stoker and John Connolly will come to mind, but hopefully The Green Book also will serve as a pathway to Ireland’s other notable fantasists: like Fitz-James O’Brien, Charlotte Riddell, Lafcadio Hearn, William Allingham, J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Cheiro, Harry Clarke, Dorothy Macardle, Lord Dunsany, Elizabeth Bowen, C. S. Lewis, Mervyn Wall, Conor McPherson . . . and this list is by no means exhaustive.

It should be noted that the word “Irish” in the journal’s title should be understood as inclusive rather than exclusive. The Green Book will also feature essays on Irish themes—even if by non-Irish authors. We hope that you will find something of interest here, for there is much to explore.

The Green Book is open for submissions.

Praise for The Green Book

“A welcome addition to the realm of accessible nonfiction about supernatural horror.” – Ellen Datlow

“Serious aficionados of the weird should also consider subscribing to The Green Book.” – Michael Dirda

“An exceptionally well-produced periodical.” – S. T. Joshi

“[A] wonderful exploration of a weird little corner of literature, and a great example of how careful editing can make even the most obscure subject fascinating and entertaining beyond all expectations.” – The Agony Column

“Eminently readable . . . [an] engaging little journal that treads the path between accessibility and academic depth with real panache.” – Black Static

“The overall feel here is not of fusty excavation in a small corner of the literary world, but of exploration on a broad front that continues to unearth intriguing finds.” – Supernatural Tales