A Gripping Story
August Derleth opens his story describing the level of
fright experienced by the main characters in the story as a fright only capable
of being experienced when alone. While reading these first few sentences I
tried thinking of a time I was alone and scared. We all know that being alone
can make things far scarier than they would be with company. When we’re home
alone at night for example, we may hear things that would otherwise go unheard.
By describing form of fright in a way that everyone can relate to, I was easily
able to relate to the fright Johnny and the narrator must’ve felt.
The story
is sure to fall into the category of gothic literature as several gothic tropes
are used including: sense of mystery and dread, unreliable narrator, weather,
uncanny, and supernatural. Right off the bat, the sense of mystery and dread
trope is present as it excites the reader’s fear by leading us to be able to
relate to the level of fear described. The narrator goes on to state, “We were
young, we were little boys in a small town” (Derleth 191). So we can assume the
story contains an unreliable narrator since kids are known to have wild
imaginations. But the way the narrator describes the scary creature, “The hard
breathing which was my own became Its breathing in Its frenetic struggle to reach
me, to rend and tear me, to imbue my soul with terror” (Derleth 193), makes the
scary more suspenseful and left me wondering whether the creature would ever
attack. With quotes like this, I was left at the edge of my seat throughout the
story truly wondering whether the identity and end result of the creature would
ever be revealed.
“The
Lonesome Place” is sure to captivate an audience of any gender or any age as we
can all relate to being young and having an imagination run wild. I would rate
this story a five on a scale of one to five as it’s not only gripping but it is
also a noteworthy piece of gothic literature since it uses so many gothic
tropes.
Derleth, August. "The Lonesome
Place." American Gothic Tales. Comp. Joyce Carol Oates. New York:
Plume, 1996. 191-98. Print.
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