Count me in for a discussion. Did you like it?

I'd be interested in discussing TLS as well. Sarah Waters is one of my favorite authors, and I really liked this book.

I really liked it too, and would be interested in what other RPers have to say about it.

Yes, I liked it. That is, I liked the middle part which I found suspenseful and rather compulsively readable -- so much so, in fact, that I was greatly annoyed when I had to put it down. But it did seem a bit slow for the first fifty or so pages, and then the last, say, hundred pages increasingly dismayed me. The ending...well, I don't know...I found it a letdown, I guess.

How did you all react?

And, the thing that perhaps perplexes me the most: Was our Dr Faraday an entirely reliable narrator? What about Betty's role?

I figure the proper thing to do, if we are going to get down to the nitty gritty in this thread, is post SPOILER ALERTS. If you think we should remain coy instead, I'll abide with that.

SPOILER ALERTS by all means. I don't see how we can discuss the book without them.

On the July reading thread, I asked Siobhan if she thought the doctor had anything to do with what happened. I hadn't thought so until the very last paragraph, which I thought was provocative. A poltergeist was mentioned early on but never pursued.

I think Siobhan may be on vacation.

Carolyn, that last paragraph threw me for a loop -- I wondered if I had been reading everything wrong.

The poltergeist thing confused me. I thought surely Betty had something to do with those manifestations -- either consciously or unconsciously -- because she was thirteen or fourteen, the prime age and right gender for causing classic poltergeist phenomena. I was wary of her from that first visit Dr Faraday made to Hundreds. Yet, unless I missed something, Betty apparently wasn't involved, except as an observer. Do you think that's right? I rather feel misled.

There are several red herrings or loose threads, I think, that were never fully explained. For instance, what was the significance of the photograph Mrs Ayres gave Dr Faraday -- the one that might or might not have pictured his mother when she was in service at the Hall?

Besides the supernatural aspect of the story -- which I suppose is the central point -- one of the side features that intrigues me is the class snobbery. The Ayres have only two servants to attend them and their great pile of a house -- it's the passing of an old way of life. Caroline, because she had been a WREN(?), would get her hands dirty and work along side Betty and Mrs Bazeley; but Mrs Ayres only seemed to know how to ring a bell for service -- a vague and ineffectual creature who couldn't adjust. Yet Mrs Ayres seems to have been a likeable, kind enough woman that Faraday and the villagers continued to admire. What strikes me -- and I guess it might have been actually true in the late 1940s for that class of women -- is Mrs Ayres is only in her early fifties, but she's portrayed as fragile and aged. If she was eighteen in 1912 when she married, she was born circa 1894; so in 1947, she would have been fifty-three -- several years younger than I am right now!

The class thing is a recurring theme -- who's fussiest about it, though? The Ayreses or Dr Faraday himself.

Another aspect: The housing estate being built after the sale of part of the Hundreds' park. I have to admit that a certain amount of classism wells up in me at the thought of land being sacrificed for development of ticky-tacky semi-detacheds. Caroline, however, took an avid interest in the progress of the housing development. That she would rings true to me, I think -- she was of the generation that would have to accept changes.

I can't seem to make a systematic evaluation of this story -- too many things keep popping into my mind out of order. How does it go with you?

I found The Little Stranger rivetting. I finished it in the wee hours so nobody would interrupt me.

I have alot of the same questions, Freidag. I do not think I can adequately attempt to answer any of them. That's interesting about Dr. Faraday not being a reliable narrator. I thought he was but now I am not so sure.

I am not sure what or who the title is actually referring to either. It seemed to be Susan, but then on page 353 (my Am. edition) "the little stranger" seems to refer to something else. Was it not Susan after all?

Friedag, I am with you. The last quarter of the book steered off in a unexpected direction.

I did not know that the Booker people considered mystery and suspense books. Most of what I have read of their choices has been literary drivel.

I thought the title came from Dr. Faraday's enemy doctor's statement (can't remember his name and have taken the book back to the library) when they were discussing the goings on at the house.

I also felt a little put out over Betty by what I suppose was meant to be a red herring, and I felt Dr. F. was the biggest snob of all. I thought he wanted the house more than he wanted Caroline. Not sure about the photo--I figured he just wanted very badly for it to be his mother.

Part of the oddity for me was Mrs. Aryes' statement that from birth she fell in love with Susan and that they were like sweethearts to each other. Then she hardly seemed to care for her other children at all, which would probably have been the case even if Susan had lived. Strange mother. Strange book.

Strange book.The more I think about it, the more I agree. At first I was struck by the 'normality' of the structure, being traditionally linear and old-fashioned; but I found the perspective a bit odd. Knowing that Sarah Waters herself is a lesbian, I half expected Caroline to turn out to be one as well -- Caroline being described as plain, thick-legged, and wide-hipped, and there seemed to be an almost fetishistic focus on Caroline's unshaved legs. The whole scene in the doctor's car after the dance was actually painful for me to read -- I wondered why Caroline instigated it and then chickened out.

What about Dr Faraday? Do you think Waters wrote convincingly from a masculine viewpoint?

It is perhaps unfair of me to expect Waters to write about lesbianism; but since her other books hold that perspective, I don't feel my presumption is egregious. Also, that she chose a male narrator should not be considered anything more than she wanted to portray events from the male doctor's point of view -- writers like to experiment and unless they bungle things totally, I don't usually hold it against them.

Lydia, I think Carolyn pinpointed 'the little stranger' -- didn't the other doctor (Seeley?) refer to it as "a germ...to develop -- to grow like a child in the womb"? But it's logical to think that Susan could be 'the little stranger' as well. She was part of the idea -- the germ -- at any rate.

kren250 or anyone, how do you think this book compares with others by Waters?

I tend to like unreliable narrators, especially well done ones (I guess we've all got our own criteria for what that is), and I thought this one was superb and subtle. I liked how Waters never looses control of the story and was patient to slowly, methodically build... which contributes to the genuinely creepy feeling of the novel, whether you believe the cause was paranormal or otherwise (I think both are rather marvelously and ambiguously knotted together).

SPOILERS ahead:
I wrote down the quote that references the title:
The subliminal mind has many dark, unhappy corners, after all. Imagine something loosening itself from one of those dark corners. Let's call it a--a germ. And let's say conditions prove right for that germ to develop--to grow, like a child in the womb. What would this little stranger grow into? A sort of shadow-self, perhaps: a Caliban, a Mr Hyde. A creature motivated by all the nasty impulses and hungers the conscious mind had hoped to keep hidden away: things like envy, and malice, and frustration...

I think the snobbery in this novel runs both ways. I think what Faraday so painfully feels (and represses) is class resentment from years of disappointment whereas what the Ayres express is more of an inbred habit but they seem to be willing to also judge people individually now that their family fortune and status has deteriorated. I did feel that Caroline genuinely liked Faraday (though probably perplexed by it) up until the moment he started expressing a romantic interest. Then I felt that no matter how much she wanted to like this man she had come to rely upon she would never be able to allow herself to make that leap. She did toy with him at the dance. But then, Faraday was quite assiduous in how he insinuated himself into their lives and made himself indispensable. It was enough to naturally make anyone suspicious.

Faraday, I felt, harbored a lot of repressed emotion. The fact that he was rejected by a young woman whose family persuaded her to choose someone else over him certainly must have left its scars creating his own 'germ'.

As to Waters, I'm glad to see her branching out, because regardless of topic she is a wonderful storyteller who can spin layer upon layer. I think she did a good job with the masculine PoV. I've read all of her novels so far. I would rank Affinity, Fingersmith and The Little Stranger in the top tier, and the The Night Watch and Tipping the Velvet slightly beneath those, though still very good reads, just not quite as grabbing as those first three for me.

Almost forgot to ask... Do you think it was a deliberate homage to du Maurier's "Rebecca" not to give Faraday a first name? I rather liked that aspect too.

Georgia, I didn't even notice! I feel really dumb. So does Dr. F consider himself a non-entity, too?

I did not notice that Dr. F's first name was never mentioned! Neither did I have a clear impression of what he looked like. That is odd too, I think. Waters described all the other characters very carefully, so I wonder why she did not with Dr. Faraday.

I am glad the possibility of Caroline being a lesbian was brought up. That is what I thought too at first, but then I felt crass for jumping to that conclusion. Too much PC-ness makes one afraid sometimes to say what one thinks.

Then I felt that no matter how much she wanted to like this man she had come to rely upon she would never be able to allow herself to make that leap.Georgia, I agree but I still would like to know why. What do you think was preventing her? I don't mind subtle, but if it's too subtle I'm afraid the point is likely to be lost (on me, anyway).

Speaking of subtle: Lydia, I don't think it's 'crass' to presuppose that lesbianism might come up in a Sarah Waters story; it is, after all, the subject of her first few books. And I still think it's a possibility that Caroline might have been a lesbian. There are hints -- I cited some upthread -- and there's the talk of her time in the WRENS. Also, it provides as good an explanation as any as to why she couldn't go through with the 'car encounter' with Dr Faraday. It's a matter of interpretation, though; isn't it? Waters left it cleverly ambiguous, I think -- perhaps too clever for me.

The turning point of the story seems to me to have been that after-dance episode. Do you agree or was there some other point that you think was a likelier hinge?
But then, Faraday was quite assiduous in how he insinuated himself into their lives and made himself indispensable. It was enough to naturally make anyone suspicious.Georgia: Yes, but Dr Faraday initially didn't have designs to 'insinuate himself' -- he was called to the Hall by the Ayres themselves. It was a matter of opportunity for him, but I don't see that he plotted from the beginning to marry 'the Squire's daughter' so that he could get his hands on the house. Or did he?

Now, what about poor neglected Roderick? We haven't talked about him yet. He had enough problems recovering from his war wounds and then the responsibility of the estate was thrust upon him. He was susceptible to suggestion, but was there an ulterior motive on anyone's part (corporeal or ethereal) to bundle him off and out of the way?

Oh, Georgia, you are observant. The no-first-name thing didn't register with me when I was actually reading through the book. Only after when I was trying to remember Dr Faraday's forename, and I went back to look and couldn't find it, did I realize that it was never divulged. I hadn't thought of a possible homage to D du Maurier's Rebecca. Is Sarah Waters an avowed fan of DduM? It seems likely, I think, that she is -- there are similarities in Waters's style, and ambiguity was a DduM trademark.

Lydia, now that you brought it to my attention, I can't conjure up any visuals of Dr Faraday, either. Curious that he's so colorless...

I think part of the reason the description of Dr. Faraday is vague is because he is narrating the story. I do seem to remember him mentioning a receding hairline (or hair thinning out, can't quite remember).

I don't think Dr. Faraday's actions were premeditated, but as you say, it was a matter of an opportunity presenting itself and I think at some subconscious level he was compelled by a deep-seated desire of what that house and a marriage to Caroline represented. There's a lot going on at a subconscious level for most of the charactes in this book, in fact.

I don't know if Waters is an avowed fan of DduM, but both are quite good with the psychological underpinnings, so when I read Waters I often think of DduM.

I read this book when it first came out, so now my memory is starting to fade which makes commenting on Roderick a bit problematic for me. I think I'd have to re-read it to be able to discuss his own particular haunting... He was certainly a damaged character, quite vulnerable to pressure and suggestion. He and Caroline did seem trapped by their obligations to the estate and their family. It was interesting how he later reacted to Faraday after they put him in the institution and how the doctors there felt he was better off when he had no contact with his family (or Faraday).

I also remember reading a review of this book that made some parallels between TLS and Waugh's Brideshead Revisited (in its handling of class issues of the period). I haven't read BR. For anyone who has read both, do you see points for comparison?

Was anyone surprised that Betty stayed with the family for the entire duration?

I don't think Betty had a choice in whether to stay, but she did seem to get fond of Mrs. Ayres as time passed.

As for Roderick's problems and then Caroline's suicide, I thought Susan was carrying sibling rivalry to the extreme. Even Mrs. A. says she "was not kind" in her efforts to reunite with her mother, although the doctor said all the marks on Mrs. A. were in places that could have been self-inflicted.

This is, of course, giving credibility to a pure ghost story interpretation. Roderick had already had a breakdown, so that was the easiest way to dispense with him. Caroline was strong, so she wasn't so easy until she was left alone. I did think maybe part of the reason she was put off Dr. F. was the class issue, what with his mother having been a servant in the house. I hadn't considered lesbianism and am not sure I agree that it is applicable. I have only read one other of the author's books and so wasn't looking for that.

I'm glad to see this discussion as this book was so entertaining and fun to read. Unfortunately it went back to the library a couple of weeks ago, and I need to refer to it in order to discuss it properly. But just a point or two -

About halfway through the book I started to get quite suspicious of Faraday as a narrator. Waters never reveals him to be unreliable in a big bang-up disclosure, but I felt that she deliberately left it ambiguous. Did anyone else get uncomfortable pricklings at Caroline's end? We have only his word that he was at a secluded area all night. He had keys and was very well acquainted with the house. Hmmmmmmm.

The photograph that may or may not have been his mother made me wonder - was this a strange parallel with his own situation? Throughout the book, the class difference was emphasized - he never really belonged or fit in.

The weird relationship with Caroline - whew. I winced when I read those bits, especially towards the end. They were so obviously not in love, or even especially in like. It was almost as if Faraday was really in love with the house but didn't realize it.

The mother's death - I feel like I was missing something there. Why would the spirit, if there was one, torment her mother? Did she blame her mother for her death? Or for having more children?

Being born and raised in the U.S., I am constantly amazed at the unwillingness of certain classes to work for a living, as in actually getting a job. The image of the mother, still relatively young and beautiful, who does nothing but ring for a servant while her home dissolves around her...Caroline, a fairly modern young woman, walking around in the woods with an elderly dog while her brother's health and sanity crumble...once again I show my middle-class sensibilities. Of course, there wouldn't have been a book without these characters! And I know they were very real.

The sale of the land and building of the houses I thought was very interesting, as it wasn't merely the case of a greedy real estate developer but moderately priced, desperately needed housing for people who would otherwise not have any. Caroline's sniffing at the idea of a fitted kitchen (I think that was the term) was particularly telling.

I would love to talk with the author about this book. For one thing, it is pretty rare, IMHO, to find such a well-crafted book of this type. And yes, it reminded me a great deal of du Maurier.

I do wish I had the book available - I am probably mixing up some things. I tried to get it back from the library but of course it is out. I hope the person who has it enjoys it as much as I did!

thank you, Freidag-it is good to know that I am not the only one to whom the thought occured. There did seem to be several careful indications it could be so. Unfortunately I no longer have the book to look for them. I think I may re-read and take more careful notice to see if my impressions hold up.

I thought Caroline was willing to abandon the class consciousness. She was planning to go to Canada or the U.S. She said that "England no longer wanted her" which I interpreted to mean that she knew it was an outmoded way of life, that she did not intend to be a relic like her mother.

Caroline's plans make me think she did not commit suicide. Neither do I think she had an accident nor did the ghost of Susan cause her death. I think Dr. F inadvertently confessed that he in some way caused her death but then tried to pass it off as a dream. Siobhan, you are right that we only have his word that he was where he said he was.

Whoa! Siobhan and Lydia, the bit about Dr Faraday and 'the dream' didn't register with me the first time I read it. I scurried to find it. Just reread it, and I have to say it does make me consider the possibility you raise. See, discussions like this always bring to light things I miss!

Georgia, I've read Brideshead Revisited, but not recently. From what I remember though, yes, I can see the similarities between it and TLS concerning the class issues. In both of those, the upper class is moribund and it's the less-privileged class representative (Dr Faraday and Charles Ryder) who is preoccupied with his position in relation to the UC. I understand, from what I've read, that it was a favorite writerly subject post-WWII in the UK. The American point of view: though we find it fascinating, we often are rather puzzled as to why it mattered so much (and continues to matter, to a certain degree).

One thing I really liked about reading this novel was the creepiness I felt throughout, in the way that it can be fun to be a bit scared by a film or a book. The author managed that really well, IMHO, in keeping the reader guessing and thinking.

Ah! Yes, the creepiness factor. I'm glad you brought it up, Siobhan, because I meant to ask: Just how creepy did you all feel it was?

I think it was more psychologically creepy than goosebumpy and hair-crawly. But there were a couple of places that did spook me: 1) when Mrs Ayres was up in the old nursery and what transpired so that she cut her arms on the broken glass; and 2) the old speaking tube whistle going off in the kitchen. However, the latter might not have been caused supernaturally -- Dr Faraday said when the tube was taken out, it was found to be disintegrating. Another red herring? Whichever, my hackles rose.

Okay, Siobhan, I know you share my liking of a good 'ghost' story. Compared to some others of the genre, how effective do you think The Little Stranger is? Let's use Susan Hill's The Woman in Black as one to compare it with -- I think several of us have read both.

Well. One cannot compare a ghost story to The Woman in Black. Rather, it is the standard by which they are judged! ;) Yes, I do love The Woman in Black.

More seriously - I think TLS is very effective, certainly one of the best I have read and without a doubt the best modern ghost story I have found. Waters maintains that psychological creepiness very well and evenly, and injects just the right amount of enigma, without revealing too much or being frustrating. She thankfully never descends into gore and slime.

I found Mrs. Ayres's 'accident' and her subsequent death the most disturbing part of the book, difficult to read.

Just about everything is left unresolved in this book, yet it doesn't feel unresolved, at least to me. Betty is a good example. We don't know much about her, least of all why she stayed. Yes, her home life was miserable, but when one is being haunted at a crumbling isolated mansion, one would tend to formulate Plan B. Although we are told that she is quite fond of Mrs. Ayres and enjoys the games they play later on - maybe that would be enough. Again, just the right amount of enigma.

Also, the smudges and writing appearing on the walls - I didn't quite know what to make of that. Common enough in ghost stories, I suppose.

Okay - suspension of disbelief here - say there actually was a ghost. Why did it begin causing trouble at that particular time? Because of Betty and the poltergeist theory? Because of Dr. Faraday threatening the status quo? I think the reader is supposed to wonder about these things.

I have also read TLS and enjoyed it very much. Sarah Waters did an outstanding job creating the atmosphere of the time and house. She was very clever in her ability to throw out subtleties that kept you guessing throughout the book and after. I tend to agree that Dr. Faraday wasn't a reliable narrator, and that it was his unconscious (didn't they reference it as phantasms related to his resentments about class differences/his love of Hundreds hall) that drove the happenings. It is a book I will read again to see if I can draw any different impressions.

This novel reminded me more than a little of Henry James's Turn of the Screw, both in atmosphere and questionable narrator. Faraday is the opposite of the governess, all science and logic, but the effect is largely the same.

When I was reading it, I remember being surprised at myself, that I was enjoying it so much because the story unfolds very slowly, especially at first. I was thinking that is was rather strange that I could hardly put down the book when logically it wasn't that riveting. I was also surprised at the difference between this novel and Fingersmith, which I didn't like all that much. I have not read her other books.

My Take on The Little Stranger

Now that I have thought this through with the aid of the preceding suggestions, I have a deeper appreciation for this book.

Mrs. Ayres gives Faraday a photograph which may or may not contain a likeness of the doctorÂs mother. Apparently, maids were of such little importance to the "family" that Mrs. Ayres cannot recognize her in the picture. This incident is the catalyst of the doctorÂs subconscious desire to become "somebody"-- "the lord of the manor." This is the germ that will become the "little stranger."

The first order of business is to rid the house of the present masterÂRoderick. Next, the "old-fashioned lady" who once reigned supreme as mistress. That leaves Caroline who, though plain, is FaradayÂs only hope of gaining the house.

Throughout the book I am struck by the lack of the emotion of love between the two. Does either one ever say, "I love you" to the other? Faraday obviously wants the house while CarolineÂs gut feeling is, "somethingÂs missing here." He insists that they will continue to live at Hundreds while Caroline desperately wishes to get away from it.

In discussing the matter of Mrs. Ayres suicide, Dr. Seeley suggests "Âa conscious personality, with a subliminal selfÂa sort of dream-selfÂSuppose that dream-self could, in certain circumstances, break loose: detach itself, cross space, become visible to others?"

Later Faraday, in his dark despair at losing the chance to have Hundreds relates, "I seemed to leave the car, and to press on to HundredsÂI saw myself pass like smoke through the Hundreds gate. I saw myself start along the Hundreds drive."

Meanwhile, Caroline sees something in the passageway and calls out, "You!"

And in the last paragraphÂFaraday sees only his own reflection in the glass.

The Little Stranger, born of a deep-seated bitterness and destructive covetousness, is revealed.

That is a terrific explanation, froniga. I admire your ability to articulate it so well. As I was reading your post, I was thinking, 'yes, that's it, that's it!'

I think Waters did a rather impressive feat of writing, to formulate that without really giving anything away.

Great analysis, Froniga.

I know some readers didn't know quite what to think of the ending, but I loved it, the way Faraday looks in the mirror in complete bafflement but only sees his own reflection. I thought it was pitch-perfect.

Excellent, Froniga. Thanks for posting.

froniga, it seems to me that you picked up the details and figured out the indications most satisfactorily. Thank you for describing them so well.

Georgia, it's funny how one reader's 'pitch-perfect' ending is another's jangle and twang. As I said above, I didn't really like how I felt set up -- by both the false billing of the story as a gothic (which I will say emphatically it is not, though the billing thing probably isn't the fault of Waters) and by the story itself when it took a turn that I found jarring. I never really recovered and found most everything after that curiously deflating, including the ending. Now, I've enjoyed enigmatic endings (e.g., DduM's My Cousin Rachel), but I didn't find this one of the same calibre -- though few seldom are compared to DduM, in my opinion.

Oh dear, I am probably being too hard on TLS. I am glad enough that I read it; I actually think it was well written -- just a bit undercooked for my taste. But, as always with you all, I find the discussion very enlightening and the different perspectives most interesting!

This book sounds really intriguing! I went to the author's website to find out more and found out that she does, indeed, love du Maurier's Rebecca. In fact, it's the book she wished she would have written herself!

Here is a link that might be useful: Sarah Waters FAQ

Thank you for that website, it is most enlightening. I am always interested in reading about or hearing interviews with authors who are at the peak of their careers - the creative process is very interesting to me. And authors are generally very intelligent and interesting people.

Frieda, I can certainly see your perspective - the book walks a fine line between enigma and explanation. Much as I enjoyed it, I would hesitate to recommend it for that reason. I often learn more from opinions that are different from my own, certainly here at RP where opinions are expressed well.

Thanks for posting the interview link, Phaedosia. I see Patrick McGrath is on her list of favorite authors. I actually read another Waters interview a few years ago where she recommended McGrath's Asylum which I read upon that recommendation. It's another interesting example of an unreliable narrator, psychologically driven with a plot that slowly builds.

Frieda, I often feel out of synch with other reader impressions and interpretations, so I'm not surprised I would feel differently about the ending of TLS. I also was one of the few here who felt underwhelmed by Susan Hill's The Woman in Black. I thought it was elegantly written, had all the elements of a good ghost story (as if she were using a checklist, I would add) but never once did it raise a hair on me. In part, it may have been due to the calm first person narration. At least with unreliable narrators, you have a puzzle to figure out.

Siobhan, neither will I recommend it, except to those readers whom I know to enjoy ambiguity and enigma. I learned my lesson with My Cousin Rachel -- too many lovers of Rebecca have loathed MCR and I'm afraid they might feel rooked by TLS, as well. But you never know what will resonate or land with a thud with any particular reader -- readers are too complex! However, after perusing reviews and discussions, I think Waters and today's readers may be more simpatico than the same group would be with D du Maurier's work (besides Rebecca).

Georgia, I'd swear that it's I who is usually out of synch. :-) I recall liking The Woman in Black more for its atmosphere and imagery -- the fog and that causeway and the treachery of the incoming tide! I also liked the old-fashioned feel of it, evocative of J. Sheridan LeFanu or Oliver Onions (The Beckoning Fair One), which I think was deliberate on Hill's part (but, as you say, could seem rather like checking things off a list). It is a mood piece rather than a puzzler, I agree, so it all depends on whichever you happen to fancy more -- at the moment or because of prevailing taste.

My (adult) daughter and I saw The Woman in Black on the London stage before I read it, and at one point Lisa let out a definite squeal and I jumped in my seat. It was a pretty spooky production.

friedag, "The Woman in Black" seems to me to be a "pure" ghost story; there is no question in it that the agent of suspense and horror is supernatural. "TLS" on the other hand is not wholly a ghost story - is it a ghost story at all? I think it is a hybrid of psychological suspense, cultural commentary and (maybe) some supernatural elements. It is an uneasy mix, IMO, and the ending could not quite tie every thing together in my estimation.

- is it a ghost story at all?Good question, Lydia. I don't know the answer or indeed if there is an answer. Perhaps it's a matter of interpretation. I assumed there was a ghost -- that of Susan. What else could it be? A figment of one person's imagination that provides suggestibility to everyone in the house? A ruse? At first that's what I thought, due to the poltergeist activity. But I was willing to give the ghost the benefit of my doubt, perhaps because I wanted this to be a traditional ghost story. I agree that it's a lot more than that, and your description of it also being psychological suspense and cultural commentary strikes me as valid.

I'd like others to weigh in about the ghost, whether they think there really was one. I don't trust my own opinion on it! :-)