WHEN RECENTLY interviewed by Fangoria magazine about Stanley Kubrick's 1980 film adaptation of his novel The Shining, Stephen King recalled an early conversation wherein the late filmmaker had posited that all ghost stories were at their heart optimistic tales. After all, undead apparitions suggest a life beyond the grave we so fear. "What about Hell?" King asked, playing Devil's Advocate, to which Kubrick responded icily, "I don't believe in Hell."
Many, including myself, find King's criticism that Kubrick's final cut wasn't terrifying enough dead wrong. (Although whether the film was faithful enough to King's story is entirely open to debate.) But King's point is well taken: If ghost stories are optimistic expressions about our ability to transcend flesh and blood, then why do they have the power to instill such dread?
Such is the enigma the late Russell Kirk, author of The Conservative Mind (1953) and the man widely regarded as the father of modern conservatism, attempted to explore with a series of gothic-yet-morally-sound horror tales. These short yarns, published steadily from the early 1950s until Kirk's death in 1994, have now been conveniently collected in Ancestral Shadows: An Anthology of Ghostly Tales.
Kirk has undeniable skill as a writer, and his tales showcase trace elements of gothic works by Nathaniel Hawthorne, Edgar Allen Poe, and even, in a stylistic if not thematic sense, H.P. Lovecraft. Kirk's crafting of character and scene can be quite enjoyable reading, and his ability to interject philosophical ideas about the nature of the afterlife into his stories is delightful food for thought. For example, in "Saviourgate" the great beyond is described as a place where spirits can pass the time until Judgment Day reliving and properly savoring the best moments of their former lives.