Rosemary Timperley’s “Harry” (1955)
A Girl Torn Between Mother And Brother
This is a ghost story that succeeds in mystifying the reader. The literary devices used by Rosemary Timperley reveal how technical a great short story writer must be, particularly a great ghost story writer. However, the reading does not seem technical. “Harry” reads both naturally and intriguingly. That is the true skill of a masterclass writer.
Repetitive Designation
The narrative hook is Mrs. James’ fear of ordinary things. “Such ordinary things make me afraid. Sunshine. Sharp shadows on grass. White roses. Children with red hair. And the name — Harry” (p. 33). While they may be ordinary, this is an extraordinary way to begin a story. The scene portrays a bucolic life, initially evoking a pleasant image. However, the following paragraph, Mrs. James confesses that she “felt a premonition of fear” after she heard the name, Harry (p. 33). The tone of the story shifts.
Throughout the short story, these “ordinary things” are mentioned again and again. This repition is designed by Timperley to build up to the explanation for Mrs. James’ fearing them. This creates tension, too. In the first paragraph — without any context — they all seem pleasant. But at any mention of them after the second paragraph, where she mentions her fear, their ordinariness comes into question. Indeed, the white rose bushes become a harbinger. Dr. Webster’s office has white roses. The haunted house, too, has white roses. The sunshine begins to create mirages of a boy’s shadow — whom is supposed to be Harry. Then toward the end of the short story, the sunshine blazes on Mrs. James. The heat causes her to have a sunstroke and become bed-ridden. Additionally, the red curls of Christine, or Chris, initially appear insignificant. By the end of the story, the red hair of Harold Jones confirms their kinship.
Multiple re-readings of this ghost story allow the reader to notice these casually mentioned “ordinary things” and the tension that they create for Mrs. James and the reader. It’s initially subliminal as their mention does not appear abundant and distracting. But the intentionality of their repetition is a useful method for creating a ghostly ambiance. The mention of the white roses might now may the hairs on the nape of your neck stand up.
Understatement
Again, these “ordinary things” are revealed later to be extraordinary. By first refering to the things that Mrs. James confesses to fear as “ordinary,” Timperley understates their importance. This increases the shock value when the reader learns the reason they make Mrs. James afraid at the end: at the disappearance of her adopted daughter, Chris, when Harry has allegedly kidnapped her from school. This is only one aspect of Timperley’s choice to use understatement.
Apart from the author’s descriptions, the male characters also understate key elements of the short story. The self-assured tone of the men play at abnegating Mrs. James’ concerns. At Mrs. James’ initial mention of Chris’ imaginary friend, Harry, to her husband, Mr. James, he calls it a “lark” (p. 34), a silly game. Mr. James’ flippancy dissuades her from further divulging her concerns for Chris’ behavior. “I didn’t mention any of this to Jim that night. I knew he’d only scoff as he’d done before” (pp. 35–6). However, after a few days pass, Mrs. James is still uneasy about Chris’ incessant mentioning of Harry. So Mr. James suggests that she and Chris go to see Dr. Webster: “it’s as well to take professional advice” (p. 37). Although Mr. James is not worried for his daughter, the suggestion is made to calm the nerves of his wife.
At Dr. Webster’s office, Mrs. James and Chris talk to him about Harry. After which, the doctor tries to reassure Mrs. James. He says, “I honestly don’t think you’ve anything to worry about” (p.37), and that Mrs. James should allow Chris to openly talk about Harry — to “let her prattle” (p. 38). This is a child’s game; there is nothing serious or dangerous about Chris’ imaginary friend, Dr. Webster inisists. He warns Mrs. James that, on the contrary, to not let her child express candidly her imagination will be harmful to Chris’ development and to their relationship. Dr. Webster makes Mrs. James feel guilty for her behavior.
However, even after the consultation with Dr. Webster, Mrs. James is nervous. She no longer feels able to confide her concerns to her husband whose suggestion to see Dr. Webster was a dead-end for her. So when Chris goes to school, Mrs. James visits Miss Cleaver, the head of the adoption agency. There, she details her concerns to Miss Cleaver who is initially reticent. But she eventually nudges to reveal— under strict confidence — to Mrs. James the backstory of Chris James, or rather, of Christine Jones. Without Miss Cleaver’s empathy for Mrs. Jame’s fears, the story of Chris’ babyhood would have remain unknown.
Backstory
Christine was a very young child, neglected by her two parents. Although she was adored by her older brother, Harold Jones. Harry is, of course, a nickname for Harold. Due to the biological father’s mental and physical illnesses, he can no longer bear his life. He seals the door and the window. Then he attempts to suffocate his family by a gas leak. Somehow Harry awakes before he chokes to death — and manages to open the window and take Christine with him. He jumps. Although he dies, Christine survives the fall. A neighbor then finds the brother and sister lying in a bush of white roses.
Mrs. James is given the address of Chris’s babyhood home by Miss Cleaver. When she arrives she is startled by a rambling old woman. She was the one to have found Harry and Chris. The woman is quite senile. She openly shares her heterodox views to Mrs. James, “Life and death. They’re very close… Alive or dead. What’s the difference?” (p. 44). She tells Mrs. James that she should leave, too, as the “place isn’t for you. It’s for the dead who aren't dead, and the living who aren’t alive. Am I alive or dead? You tell me. I don’t know” (p. 44). This woman’s behavior makes Mrs. James even more uncomfortable. She promptly leaves, therefore. But now she knows of her adopted daughter’s biological family and of their end.
Altogether, the narrative techniques employed by Timperley create an ambiance that is ghostly. The “ordinary things” are mentioned repeatedly throughout that as readers we pick up on their contexts. We know that they are significant enough as they cause anguish in Mrs. James. But, simultaneously, we are made to disregard their significance. We rationalize along with Mr. James and Dr. Webster that the assumptions of Mrs. James are groundless. Although we can sympathize with her — and we can pick up on ghostly elements throughout the short story, there seem to be no real ghosts. It seems to be just a mystery. Harry seems to be a mystery. Is he a real boy or is he imaginary? It is only when Mrs. James visits Chris’ former house, through Miss Cleaver’s assistance, when we learn the truth.
But then, we don’t actually.
The old woman that Mrs. James encounters is mad. She seems to be ghost-like, herself. We never learn too who Harry is. Chris’ teacher says that she met him as he picked Chris up from school. But nobody else has ever seen him. Is he real or not? He seems to be dead-but-not-dead or alive-but-not-living.
The short story is made not for a fulfilling plot, but to allow for an immersive experience in a moment of time. The technical writing of Rosemary Timperley suites this form of writing as she takes the ordinary and reveals it to be extraordinary. Through the logic of the reader, Mrs. James seems slightly hysterical as she worries over Chris playing with an imaginary friend. Our rationalization underplays her concerns. She seems to have an overly active imagination, herself — not just her daughter. Then through the backstory of Chris being admitted into the foster system, we learn that there are too great of similarities. Perhaps her concerns are more founded that previously assumed, readers must admit to themselves. We are left without ever knowing where Chris was taken and if she is alive. Regardless of Harry being a ghost or not, the idea of Chris having vanished haunts not just Mrs. James, but us, the readers, too.
