I remember how I loved scaring myself when I was a kid. I read all the Goosebumps and ghost story books I could get my hands on; I watched all the Halloween / All Souls’ Day horror specials on tv in between my fingers; and my classmates and I told ghost stories dared ourselves to go ghost-hunting whenever we had our annual camp-out on our school grounds (which, as all schools in this country are reported to be, was once a wartime burial ground, therefore it is haunted!)
In high school, I’d moved on to Christopher Pike and R.L. Stine’s Fear Street, and even the Spirit Quest Chronicles, but after that I don’t think I’ve ever went for any horror books. Yeah, I enjoy Gothic novels, or suspense thrillers, but I seem to have either a) lost the fascination for reading books for the intention of scaring myself silly (except for when I had to read The Historian again for a book discussion *shiver*); or b) less things have the power to scare me silly (okay, I am officially giving myself a headache thinking this through).
Anywaaaaay, the reason I brought this dilemma up is because I dug out this book from the bargain bin: Scary Stories 3: More Tales to Chill Your Bones, collected from folklore and retold by Alvin Schwartz, drawings by Stephen Gammell (Book #49 for 2009).
The book looked familiar; I think I must’ve read this (or one of the previous volumes) back in grade school. There are over 25 stories in the book: some ghost stories, some urban legends, some just strange tales.
If I were much younger, I’d probably have enjoyed this book and I’d have “chilled my bones” as the book earnestly promises.
On a positive note, what’s nice about this anthology is that there’s a whole section in the back devoted to references for the adaptations — whether it’s oral tradition, a news article, or a reported recollection. One of them, An Appointment in Samarra, even appears in the last book I read (The Eight by Katherine Neville).
I also like the pen and ink wash illustrations of Stephen Gammell (Caldecott Medal awardee for The Song and Dance Man by Karen Ackerman, and Caldecott Honor awardee for Where the Buffaloes Begin by Olaf Baker), I think they’re even more scary than the stories, and if I was the young reader perusing this volume, they’d have been set the right mood for bone-chilling. :)
***
My copy: a worn paperback, still good for many readings, now in my bookmooch inventory.
My rating: 3/5 stars
