Heather Evans Editorial

Hello everyone, and Happy Halloween!

In typical fashion, I’m a day late with my special, and especially spooky, Halloween post. However, I would like to think that I purposely tricked you into believing that one was not brewing in my cauldron of bubble and trouble and this is actually a delayed and deliciously sweet treat. If anything, I am extending the occasion before the sun rises (as the sun has definitely been stolen by the hellish skies) and the candles in your carved, hollowed pumpkins blow out as the day for the dead ends.

I have had a couple of chilling experiences over the past week in ode to All Hallows Eve, which has been warmed up exclusively by the discovery of the mocha machine at work, mulled cider and Lemsip. As I sit here sniffling, I have fond memories of when I had two working nostrils and, like the one that got away, I now only know what I had until it was gone. 

Nonetheless, this ghoulish flu is completely worth it as I have had the loveliest few weeks socialising with the living. Oxford has certainly cast its spell on me, and here is what I have been doing to celebrate this fiendish festivity:

I went to an Open Air Cinema to watch Hocus Pocus at the Nag’s Head, Abingdon. 

Like Max who brings the Sanderson sisters back to life, I went in a complete virgin. Yet, despite fears of it being unbearably cold, the whole evening made my heart feel warm. The Nag’s Head has a lovely outside seating area where they placed fire heaters strategically, and the screen was big enough so we could all see. A large group of us from work went, and I was really impressed with the mulled cider, pizza and other drinks and snacks that were on offer. It is one of those films that I think gets better with age as we appreciated all the subtle and not so subtle innuendos. I may have laughed the whole way through and, despite my age and it being a Disney children’s film, I did jump out of my seat in the only minor jump scare. 

I went to the Spellbound Exhibition at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

This has been on the bucket list since I moved here and I don’t think we could have chosen a better weekend. The exhibition itself was super interesting, taking you through the origins of (mostly) European ideas of witchcraft to ideas of magic today. It displays instruments and books that were thought to invoke spells of love and torture, as well as presenting items and strange traditions that households would collect and store in order to prevent witches from invading their lives with their wicked ways. It was really chilling how women, and some men, were persecuted for selling themselves to the devil simply due to unexplained situations of the time and how the whole of society functioned through fearing their neighbours. Although the artwork and displays were illuminating, I did think it was a bit pricey for what is was. Saying that, I think it is worth seeing (and its around until January 2019) and the gift shop was a massive plus – I mean, who doesn’t like a good gift shop?

With all of this scary socialising, it made me think of any books that I could recommend for Halloween and I realised that, actually, I don’t gravitate towards the horror genre. I have never been a fan of scary films and I think that has reflected on my reading choices. I haven’t even read any Stephen King, which is quite shameful. Apart from Halloween, which in the grand scheme of things is completely harmless, I don’t get enjoyment from being so frightened that I can’t sleep. I’m a sensitive soul.

However, I do enjoy a psychological thriller or books that really unsettle me. I find that often the scariest books are ones that are the closest to our current reality, a past reality, or one that can definitely be seen to happen in the future. Alternatively, I think stories that encapsulate the human condition for the worse make me reevaluate the capabilities of my neighbour or even myself; books where we realise that we could all give into our inner animal or devil if convinced or pushed. I have listed some books below which have in different ways stayed with me due to their unnerving plots and characters. If you are like me and don’t necessarily enjoy being shit scared, take a look: 

The Wasp Factory, Iain Banks

I won’t go into depths about the plot of Iain Banks’s The Wasp Factory, but trust me when I say that it is more than just a little bit messed up. Set in the eerie highlands of Scotland, it follows the protagonist Frances in his discovery about the workings of his dysfunctional family. No one in this book is exactly sane, and its matter-of-fact tone when discussing the actions of Frances and his brother, Eric, often meant I had to put the book down – but I could never manage that for long. Violent and psychologically incomprehensible, you just cannot predict this Gothic conclusion.

The Collector, John Fowles

Fowles writes a story about obsession that goes beyond the privacy of a man’s bedroom or mind. Narrated by the lonesome Frederick Clegg, the story begins almost innocently as Frederick explains his collection of butterflies. However, the plot takes an unsettling turn as his fanatical personality begins to obsesses over a girl he stalks: Miranda. Split into two parts, we see the inner workings of both Frederick’s and Miranda’s mind as they both seek their end goal, either being love or freedom. I found this very disturbing as I felt pity for Frederick at points despite the severity of his actions. This has stayed with me as one of my favourite books of all time

American Psycho, Brett Easton Ellis

I almost don’t want to write this recommendation as I found this book so disturbing, and I feel it goes without much explanation of why. However, I feel this was especially upsetting for me because I know a few people that feel the pressure from their job, and I feel in our society their is a constant expectation that one should uphold a certain lifestyle and persona in front of the public eye. I feel this book represents an individual who has suffered immensely to the detriment to their mental health as a consequence to expectation, and even when speaking out no one could believe someone like himself could have done it. The privacy of this plot and the turning away with a blind eye left me shook.

1984, George Orwell

I know this is not exactly a modern book, but the scariest thing about Orwell’s post-apocalyptic novel is that I feel that with every day that passes we are getting closer to the reality that Winston exists in. How neighbours rat their friends and families out of fear, how we are always being watched by social media and the like, and how society’s are being taken over into a dictatorship dressed as heaven, namely the recently events in Brazil. If anything, I think this is one of the most chilling books I have ever read as it is not only representing a fictional future but echoes the world we live in today.

As we now turn towards November and the beginnings of fireworks, I hope I have given you some suggestions to read if you want to curl up with something as dark as the sky at 4:30pm (how sad). That being said, I am now going to blow my nose and get another Lemsip.

Happy reading!

Hev xo