Books with title The White Terror

"The Terror" offer modern readers a story in a framework familiar from television shows like "The X-Files". During the midst of The Great War, odd occurrences and singular deaths have been plaguing a small town in Wales and its environs. There are hints that these strange incidents, mostly involving mass or singular killings in isolated locales but also encompassing destruction of factories and machinery, are actually occurring countrywide but a government-imposed news blackout has made this impossible to verify. The story follows two characters, a local doctor and a friend, as they begin to piece evidence together, at first not even realizing that some events are related. How could a small child be found smothered to death in a field with no mark on her person? Why did horses stampede through a military encampment in the middle of the night? Who beat a family to death outside their lonely country cottage? Why did a boat flounder and sink in calm water and another run aground, its crew dead and reduced to skeletons? What is the secret of a vast, dark cloud-like mass filled with twinkling lights that looms across the countryside at twilight?Machen spins a fine tale, although one must admit to a bit of repetition and circularity (one of the dozens, if not thousands, of Machen fans on the web are probably better placed to answer this, but I wonder if the work was originally intended to, or actually did, appear in a serialized form, as some of the chapter starts feature a mild form of story recap). Also, the story is told as a reporting of these events as already passed, framed with a (notably modern) feeling that the Government imposed censorship of the news reports did more harm than good. What this "collection of events" approach means is that there is no attempt at what modern readers would call "characterization" of the leads (they are really just "stolid Englishmen") and also no real ending to the story. More or less, it just stops. No clear-cut answer is given as to the events (another thing modern readers seem to demand), although two possibilities are posited, both of which require the reader to embrace a vaguely spiritual worldview (keeping with Machen's personal spiritual/quasi-paganist beliefs, if they can be termed that). It's not possible to say much more because the solving of the agency of the attacks, if not their origin, is the point of the exercise. But for those willing to enagage in a nearly century old work that touches on some modern themes (the major one not mentioned here, as it gives the tale away), some of which have been seen on film since the publication of this work, "The Terror" is a fine way to pass some time.

After two years we are turning once more to the morning's news with a sense of appetite and glad expectation. There were thrills at the beginning of the war; the thrill of horror and of a doom that seemed at once incredible and certain; this was when Namur fell and the German host swelled like a flood over the French fields, and drew very near to the walls of Paris. Then we felt the thrill of exultation when the good news came that the awful tide had been turned back, that Paris and the world were safe; for awhile at all events.Then for days we hoped for more news as good as this or better. Has Von Kluck been surrounded? Not to-day, but perhaps he will be surrounded to-morrow. But the days became weeks, the weeks drew out to months; the battle in the West seemed frozen. Now and again things were done that seemed hopeful, with promise of events still better. But Neuve Chapelle and Loos dwindled into disappointments as their tale was told fully; the lines in the West remained, for all practical purposes of victory, immobile. Nothing seemed to happen; there was nothing to read save the record of operations that were clearly trifling and insignificant. People speculated as to the reason of this inaction; the hopeful said that Joffre had a plan, that he was "nibbling," others declared that we were short of munitions, others again that the new levies were not yet ripe for battle. So the months went by, and almost two years of war had been completed before the motionless English line began to stir and quiver as if it awoke from a long sleep, and began to roll onward, overwhelming the enemy.

After two years we are turning once more to the morning's news with a sense of appetite and glad expectation. There were thrills at the beginning of the war: the thrill of horror and of a doom that seemed at once incredible and certain; this was when Namur fell and the German host swelled like a flood over the French fields, and drew very near to the walls of Paris. Then we felt the thrill of exultation when the good news came that the awful tide had been turned back, that Paris and the world were safe; for awhile at all events.

After two years we are turning once more to the morning's news with a sense of appetite and glad expectation. There were thrills at the beginning of the war; the thrill of horror and of a doom that seemed at once incredible and certain; this was when Namur fell and the German host swelled like a flood over the French fields, and drew very near to the walls of Paris. Then we felt the thrill of exultation when the good news came that the awful tide had been turned back, that Paris and the world were safe; for awhile at all events.Then for days we hoped for more news as good as this or better. Has Von Kluck been surrounded? Not to-day, but perhaps he will be surrounded to-morrow. But the days became weeks, the weeks drew out to months; the battle in the West seemed frozen. Now and again things were done that seemed hopeful, with promise of events still better. But Neuve Chapelle and Loos dwindled into disappointments as their tale was told fully; the lines in the West remained, for all practical purposes of victory, immobile. Nothing seemed to happen; there was nothing to read save the record of operations that were clearly trifling and insignificant. People speculated as to the reason of this inaction; the hopeful said that Joffre had a plan, that he was "nibbling," others declared that we were short of munitions, others again that the new levies were not yet ripe for battle. So the months went by, and almost two years of war had been completed before the motionless English line began to stir and quiver as if it awoke from a long sleep, and began to roll onward, overwhelming the enemy.

"The Terror" offer modern readers a story in a framework familiar from television shows like "The X-Files". During the midst of The Great War, odd occurrences and singular deaths have been plaguing a small town in Wales and its environs. There are hints that these strange incidents, mostly involving mass or singular killings in isolated locales but also encompassing destruction of factories and machinery, are actually occurring countrywide but a government-imposed news blackout has made this impossible to verify. The story follows two characters, a local doctor and a friend, as they begin to piece evidence together, at first not even realizing that some events are related. How could a small child be found smothered to death in a field with no mark on her person? Why did horses stampede through a military encampment in the middle of the night? Who beat a family to death outside their lonely country cottage? Why did a boat flounder and sink in calm water and another run aground, its crew dead and reduced to skeletons? What is the secret of a vast, dark cloud-like mass filled with twinkling lights that looms across the countryside at twilight?Machen spins a fine tale, although one must admit to a bit of repetition and circularity (one of the dozens, if not thousands, of Machen fans on the web are probably better placed to answer this, but I wonder if the work was originally intended to, or actually did, appear in a serialized form, as some of the chapter starts feature a mild form of story recap). Also, the story is told as a reporting of these events as already passed, framed with a (notably modern) feeling that the Government imposed censorship of the news reports did more harm than good. What this "collection of events" approach means is that there is no attempt at what modern readers would call "characterization" of the leads (they are really just "stolid Englishmen") and also no real ending to the story. More or less, it just stops. No clear-cut answer is given as to the events (another thing modern readers seem to demand), although two possibilities are posited, both of which require the reader to embrace a vaguely spiritual worldview (keeping with Machen's personal spiritual/quasi-paganist beliefs, if they can be termed that). It's not possible to say much more because the solving of the agency of the attacks, if not their origin, is the point of the exercise. But for those willing to enagage in a nearly century old work that touches on some modern themes (the major one not mentioned here, as it gives the tale away), some of which have been seen on film since the publication of this work, "The Terror" is a fine way to pass some time.

"Explosion at Munition Works in the Northern District: Many Fatalities." The working man told me about it, and added some dreadful details. Corpses so terribly maimed that coffins had been kept covered; faces mutilated as if by some gnawing animal. . . . I took a tram to the location of the disaster; a raw and hideous shed with a walled yard about it, and a shut gate. The roof was quite undamaged -- this had had been a strange accident. There had been an explosion of sufficient violence to kill work-people in the building, but the building itself showed no wounds or scars.

"Explosion at Munition Works in the Northern District: Many Fatalities." The working man told me about it, and added some dreadful details. Corpses so terribly maimed that coffins had been kept covered; faces mutilated as if by some gnawing animal. . . . I took a tram to the location of the disaster; a raw and hideous shed with a walled yard about it, and a shut gate. The roof was quite undamaged -- this had had been a strange accident. There had been an explosion of sufficient violence to kill work-people in the building, but the building itself showed no wounds or scars.

After two years we are turning once more to the morning's news with a sense of appetite and glad expectation. There were thrills at the beginning of the war: the thrill of horror and of a doom that seemed at once incredible and certain; this was when Namur fell and the German host swelled like a flood over the French fields, and drew very near to the walls of Paris. Then we felt the thrill of exultation when the good news came that the awful tide had been turned back, that Paris and the world were safe; for awhile at all events.Then for days we hoped for more news as good as this or better. Has von Kluck been surrounded? Not to-day, but perhaps he will be surrounded to-morrow. But the days became weeks, the weeks drew out to months; the battle in the west seemed frozen. Now and again things were done that seemed hopeful, with promise of events still better. But Neuve Chapelle and Loos dwindled into disappointments as their tale was told fully; the lines in the west remained, for all practical purposes of victory, immobile. Nothing seemed to happen, there was nothing to read save the record of operations that were clearly trifling and insignificant. People speculated as to the reason of this inaction; the hopeful said that Joffre had a plan, that he was "nibbling," others declared that we were short of munitions, others again that the new levies were not yet ripe for battle. So the months went by, and almost two years of war had been completed before the motionless English line began to stir and quiver as if it awoke from a long sleep, and began to roll onward, overwhelming the enemy.

We are delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive classic literature collection. This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts, We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. Also in books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy. We use state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works. After two years we are turning once more to the morning's news with a sense of appetite and glad expectation. There were thrills at the beginning of the war: the thrill of horror and of a doom that seemed at once incredible and certain; this was when Namur fell and the German host swelled like a flood over the French fields, and drew very near to the walls of Paris. Then we felt the thrill of exultation when the good news came that the awful tide had been turned back, that Paris and the world were safe; for awhile at all events.

After two years we are turning once more to the morning's news with a sense of appetite and glad expectation. There were thrills at the beginning of the war; the thrill of horror and of a doom that seemed at once incredible and certain; this was when Namur fell and the German host swelled like a flood over the French fields, and drew very near to the walls of Paris. Then we felt the thrill of exultation when the good news came that the awful tide had been turned back, that Paris and the world were safe; for awhile at all events.Then for days we hoped for more news as good as this or better. Has Von Kluck been surrounded? Not to day, but perhaps he will be surrounded to morrow. But the days became weeks, the weeks drew out to months; the battle in the West seemed frozen. Now and again things were done that seemed hopeful, with promise of events still better. But Neuve Chapelle and Loos dwindled into disappointments as their tale was told fully; the lines in the West remained, for all practical purposes of victory, immobile. Nothing seemed to happen; there was nothing to read save the record of operations that were clearly trifling and insignificant. People speculated as to the reason of this inaction; the hopeful said that Joffre had a plan, that he was "nibbling," others declared that we were short of munitions, others again that the new levies were not yet ripe for battle. So the months went by, and almost two years of war had been completed before the motionless English line began to stir and quiver as if it awoke from a long sleep, and began to roll onward, overwhelming the enemy.