Episode 5: August Heat by W F Harvey

The Classic Ghost Stories Podcast

Tony Walker

Science Fiction, Fiction, Drama

4.9 • 835 Ratings

🗓️ 23 September 2019

⏱️ 16 minutes

🔗️ Recording | iTunes | RSS

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Summary

August HeatW F Harvey was a Yorkshireman, born in 1885 and died in 1937. He was a Quaker and suffered from ill health all his life. He joined an ambulance unit in the First World War but then went to work as a surgeon-lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He actually won a medal for saving lives but suffered from lung trouble the rest of his life from that rescue, though that didn’t stop him smoking a pipe.He published his first collection of short stories called The Midnight House in 1910 and his second in 1928 called The Beast with Five Fingers.The Beast With Five Fingers is a splendid story was was made into a film in 1946 starring Peter Lorre. I remember watching it at home with my parents and being really creeped out. The next time I watched it as an adult, I realised it was a comedy.This is a short piece of fiction. We’d almost call it Flash Fiction these days. August Heat is strong in its depiction of atmosphere of the hot August weather. The weird coincidence of the two men encapsulating each other in their own particular forms of art is strange. These days, it isn’t really unnerving. And the long established trope of leaving the reader to wonder whether he will actually die that night before midnight - and he’s got less than an hour left, is fun, but wouldn’t satisfy the modern reader.I’ve tried it and you get one starred into oblivion if you try that kind of trick on Amazon.I would be most grateful for any shares, ratings or reviews on the Podcast Channels and if you would like to, there are links to support the show through a small donationhttps://www.patreon.com/barcud (Support the show) (https://www.patreon.com/barcud)Support the showVisit us here: www.ghostpod.orgBuy me a coffee if you're glad I do this: https://ko-fi.com/tonywalkerIf you really want to help me, become a Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/barcudMusic by The Heartwood Institute: https://bit.ly/somecomeback Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Transcript

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0:00.0	The
0:07.0	The August Heat by W. F. Harvey
0:27.6	Fenniston Road, Clapham, August 20th, 1901. I have had what I believe to be the most remarkable day in my life, and while the events are still fresh in my mind, I wish to put them down on paper as clearly as possible. Let me say at the outset that my name is James Clarence Wittencroft. I'm 40 years old and perfect health, never having known a day's illness.
0:57.0	By profession, I am an artist, not a very successful one, but I earn enough money by my black
1:02.4	and white work to satisfy my necessary wants. My only near relative a sister died five years ago,
1:09.4	so that I am independent. I breakfasted this morning
1:12.5	at nine, and after glancing through the morning paper I lighted my pipe, and proceeded to let my
1:18.0	mind wander in the hope that I might chance on some subject for my pencil. The room, though door and
1:24.3	windows were open, was oppressively hot, and I had just made up my mind
1:28.4	that the coolest and most comfortable place in the neighbourhood would be the deep end of the
1:32.2	public swimming path when the idea came. I began to draw. So intent was I in my work that I left
1:39.7	my lunch untouched, only stopping work when the clock of St. Jude's struck four.
1:44.9	The final result, for a hurried sketch, was I felt sure, the best thing I had done.
1:50.2	It showed a criminal in the dock immediately after the judge had pronounced sentence.
1:56.1	The man was fat, enormously fat.
1:59.0	The flesh hung in rolls about his chin. It creased his huge, stumpy neck.
2:03.7	He was clean-shaven. Perhaps, I should say, a few days before, he must have been clean-shaven,
2:09.4	and almost bald. He stood in the dock his short, clumsy fingers clasping the rail,
2:14.6	looking straight in front of him. The feeling that his expression conveyed was not so much one of horror
2:19.9	as of utter absolute collapse.
2:23.7	There seemed nothing in the man strong enough to sustain that mountain of flesh.
2:28.4	I rolled up the sketch, and without knowing quite why, placed it in my pocket.
	...

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