Some housekeeping: no post next week, as I'm off-island wandering through the bowels of New York.
Also, a question to the masses: what GUMSHOE title would you like me to see write about in 2025? Bookhounds, NBA, Trail, something else?
Now, an extract from the Folklore of Guernsey (Marie De Garis, 2014 reprint, original 1975):
Until the First World War, the purlieus around the town church constituted a popular pied-a-terre for several charlatans and sorchiers. These were largely patronized by country people who, sure that they were being bewitched by certain neighbors or acquaintances, would visit those town quacks in hope of being given some counter-charm or advice ... The credulous wife of a well-known farmer residing in the higher parishes, used to be a regular visitor to one of these consultants, a certain Mrs. H. The wife's husband bore one of the most respected and honored names in the Channel Islands and was a man of standing in his parish. The foolish woman gave Mrs. H such huge sums of money that she beggared her husband entirely. The shame of being declared bankrupt so affected her husband that he hanged himself. The house was broken up. The mother went to live with her son but, so far from having learned her lesson, still continued to visit the town crone, passing her son's money to her until she nearly ruined him also. Her two unmarried daughters had to fend for themselves. One followed her father's example and committed suicide, while the other went to work as a maid somewhere ... When the mother finally died, her children felt so bitter about the ruin that she brought upon them that not one of them even wanted her portrait.
Purlieu: The area directly around or outside of a place.
The Town Church of St. Peter's Port, aka Town Church of St Peter, Apostle & Martyr, dates back to the 1400s in its current form. There has been a church on that spot since the year 1000, more or less, and the building's history probably goes back to the Romans.
It's extremely close to the Market and there's a pub, the Albion House, a mere 18 inches away. That pub has been there since the 1700s, so when the writer talks about the church's purlieus, she probably means in or near the pub and what is now the market.
St. Peter Port is the capital of Guernsey and, at the time of Bookhounds, it would still have been much as it was for centuries prior: a sleepy fishing port, occasionally enlivened by smuggling and war. It's watched over by Castle Cornet which, again during Bookhounds, is largely reduced to watching over the pond for toy boats built nearby, in the 1880s.
All that said:
Mrs. H.'s Library
The Hounds buy a job lot in an auction, only to discover that most of the books they bought in that box of miscellanea belonged to a notorious fraud from Guernsey.
Mrs. H, a well-known character in Guernsey circles, recently passed, and what's left of her family wanted to make sure that her memory was properly expunged. This meant, among other things, disposing of her belongings outside Guernsey. They could have burned it all, but her children share one thing with their parent: they're far too covetous to pass up a chance to make a shilling.
This means her hand-written witchcraft journals and the scraps of knowledge that Mrs. H apparently picked up from a genuine Mythos text are now the Hounds' stock.
As books these texts aren't worth much; about 1 point stock, more or less, History (witchcraft). If the Mythos text Mrs. H cribbed from could be found, that would be worth more. That, presumably, is in Guernsey. Lord alone knows precisely where, or even if it still exists.
Soon after the Hounds buy the job lot a widow from Guernsey turns up at their shop, a Mrs. De Beauvoir. She was a regular client of Mrs. H and, since the Hounds now have Mrs. H's books, they must be as knowledgeable as Mrs. H used to be. Mrs. De Beauvoir is being plagued by witchcraft. Can the Hounds help?
Options:
- Ghost Hunters: Mrs. De Beauvoir has driven her family to penury thanks to her obsessions and she brings with her a collection of ghosts, all of whom hate her guts. That's why she thinks she's being plagued; she is, just not by witches. If the investigators aren't careful, these ghosts will turn their attention to the Hounds and the shop. When that happens, Reversals are sure to follow.
- Crawling Chaos: Mrs. H isn't as dead as people like to think. She picked up just enough knowledge to become a kind of crawling one after death, only to find that Guernsey isn't as accommodating to her after death as it was during life. The undead Mrs. H is looking for a new home, and as 'Mrs. De Beauvoir' she's hoping that the Hounds will be gullible enough to assist.
- Family Pressures: Mrs. De Beauvoir thinks that her family doesn't know that she's stolen their savings to make a trip to London to see the Hounds. They very much do, and they want that money back, along with anything that Mrs. De Beauvoir might have given the Hounds. Break-ins, ambushes, tearful scenes at auction houses in front of God and everybody - anything is possible. This may cumulate in an accidental Megapolisomantic effect, as a slice of Guernsey interacting with London mystic forces is just the kind of spice that creates a very peculiar soup.
So bought Fearful Symmetries as a PDF last. I'd like to see Wiccans & The Panacea Society expanded as factions, particularly in the way they interact with British Society. I'm also interested in the magical Battle of Britain as a cultural backdrop.
ReplyDeleteJust so I'm clear: when you say Magical Battle of Britain do you mean Dion Fortune & similar, or are you hoping for an actual up-in-the-sky magical Spitfire kind of thing?
DeleteDion Fortune's Idea is what I'm interested in.
ReplyDeleteI like the psychological aspects, but I'm also interested in films that explore the more fantastic side of things.
ReplyDeleteOh, my Mom also went to New York City Yesterday. Stopped at St. Patrick's Cathedral and went to a restaurant with her friends. She's part of a racing team and her racing buddy gave her some free train tickets to go around the area where the radio city rockettes perform.
ReplyDelete