Contents
“Editor’s Note” – Brian J. Showers
“Sufficiently High Praise: Contemporary Reviews of Uncle Silas” – Compiled by the Editor
“Who’s Afraid of ‘The Demon Lover’?: Ireland and the Supernatural in Elizabeth Bowen’s Short Fiction” – Megan Kuster
“The Scarlet and the Black: ” A Curiosity in ‘Carmilla'” – Roger Dobson
“Introduction to Uncle Silas (1926)” – M. R. James
“Introduction to Uncle Silas (1940)” – Christine Longford
“Towards an Irish Gothic: Part Four” – Albert Power
“The Lady who Munched: How Carmilla Stormed the Stage” – David J. Skal
“On Uncle Silas” – Jarlath Gregory
“Reviews”
Pádraic E. Moore’s A Modern Panarion – Rosa Abbott
Syracuse University Press’s Carmilla: A Critical Edition – Elizabeth McCarthy
Lawrie Brewster’s Lord of Tears – Bernice M. Murphy
Daniel I. Roddy’s A Wanderer Out of Time – Helen Conrad O’Briain
Paul Murray’s A Fantastic Journey – Anne-Sylvie Salzman
Swan River Press’s Dreams of Shadow and Smoke – Hunter Seitz
“Notes on Contributors”
Editor’s Note #4
The summer weather in Ireland has been beautiful, sunny and warm, atypical for sure. Normally our summers are more like our Novembers with “great gusts rattling at the windows, and wailing and thundering among our tall trees and ivied chimneys”—well, maybe not the tall trees or ivied chimneys part. As I re-read Le Fanu’s Uncle Silas this summer, which was first serialised exactly 150 years ago, from July to December 1864, I wondered not only what the weather might have been like that summer—Le Fanu’s chilly prose is not exactly beach-blanket reading, though it is a page-turning thriller—but what would it have been like for readers to encounter this classic piece of literature for the first time as it unfolded in pages of the Dublin University Magazine.
Was the seventeen-year-old Bram Stoker among those Dubliners that summer following the plight of young Maud Ruthyn? Did he delight in the villainous subterfuges of Madame de la Rougierre? Did he wonder about the mysterious sins of Uncle Silas? We know that Stoker definitely read Le Fanu’s masterpiece at some point—he recommended it to his son Noel, who thoroughly enjoyed the novel, noting that his father had excellent taste in literature. (I hope you will forgive me for musing on questions other than: “So, did Stoker actually read ‘Carmilla’ or what?”)
This issue, which is truly a return to Bartram-Haugh, starts with a selection of contemporary reviews of Uncle Silas—an attempt to gauge public reaction as they read the novel for the first time. By the mid-nineteenth century, Uncle Silas was already considered a classic. So we also have introductions to two popular editions by confirmed admirers of Le Fanu’s work: M. R. James’s for Oxford University Press’s World’s Classics series (1926) and Lady Longford’s for Penguin’s Mystery & Crime series (1940). Rounding out these commentaries—spanning three centuries!—are fresh impressions from Irish novelist Jarlath Gregory, who, like readers in the summer of 1864, has only recently read Uncle Silas for the first time.
And just so you don’t think we’re neglecting “Carmilla”, we’ll also re-visit Styria with some words on Le Fanu’s classic vampire tale from the late Roger Dobson, while David J. Skal contributes an article on stage adaptations of “Carmilla”, including the recently re-discovered typescript of Lord Longford’s 1932 version. You’ll also find in this issue the final instalment of Albert Power’s survey of the Irish Gothic, and Megan Kuster’s ruminations on the supernatural tales of Elizabeth Bowen (who was not only born just a few doors down from Le Fanu’s former home on Warrington Place, but also wrote an introduction to Uncle Silas in 1947).
Finally, I would like to draw your attention to Dolorosa’s fine study of Le Fanu’s death mask on the cover, created with ash, charcoal, pastel, and pencil on the night of a full moon—a striking contribution to this issue.
Like Dracula, I don’t think Uncle Silas has ever been out of print, and today there are more editions available than ever before. So if you haven’t done so, find yourself a copy—I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the bicentenary of Dublin’s “Invisible Prince”, Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu.
Brian J. Showers
Rathmines, Dublin
3 August 2014
Brian J. Showers
Brian J. Showers is originally from Madison, Wisconsin. He has written short stories, articles, and reviews for magazines such as Rue Morgue, Ghosts & Scholars, and Supernatural Tales. His short story collection, The Bleeding Horse, won the Children of the Night Award in 2008. He is also the author of Literary Walking Tours of Gothic Dublin (2006), the co-editor of Reflections in a Glass Darkly: Essays on J. Sheridan Le Fanu (2011), and the editor of The Green Book. Showers also edited four volumes of Uncertainties anthology series, and co-edited with Jim Rockhill, the Ghost Story Award-winning anthology Dreams of Shadow and Smoke. He lives in Dublin, Ireland.
Read more
The Green Book 4 (Samhain 2014) edited by Brian J. Showers. Cover art by Dolorosa de la Cruz (“Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu”, 2014); cover design by Meggan Kehrli; editor’s note by Brian J. Showers; copyedited by Jim Rockhill; typeset by Ken Mackenzie; published by Swan River Press.
Paperback: Published on 30 November 2014; limited to 350 copies; 108 pages; digitally printed on 80 gsm paper; ISSN: 2009-6089.

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