I should say that I have always found it impossible to start at the beginning — when from my perspective there is always the question of where the beginning actually begins. And the question of whether there is ever an ending. I was aware that my parents and particularly my Grandmother’s stories were concerned with the “eerie” — uncanny things. Tales that are mistakenly called “ghost stories” — but which aren’t about what people call “ghosts” — whatever that means. That being said I have always, or at least for as long as I can remember, have had an interest in storytelling where the idea of a beginning, middle and end are not held as strong constituents. Stories that recur, recurring down through generations — sometimes involving what is called visitations, sometimes something less well definable. But one that occurs and recurs nevertheless.
This story involves my re-familiarizing myself with Freud and Jentsch’s focus on the Uncanny — Das Unheimlech. According to Freud’s definition this could mean encountering something that is both familiar but at the same time deeply unsettling for reasons that are not immediately clear or obvious. Dolls and waxworks are commonly held to evoke a certain strange quality that could be experienced as deeply unsettling. Twins sometimes are held with deep suspicion and in some countries there is a custom of one twin being removed and “exposed” or murdered soon after birth. I wonder whether…
