I was eagerly anticipating the arrival of Sarah Waters’ newest book, The Little Stranger, since its publication date was first announced. Our library was due to get a copy and so I waited … and waited … and waited some more. It never came and finally, after an agonizing six weeks, whereupon I’d gaze longingly at the book whenever I entered a bookstore, I gave up waiting, gave into temptation, and bought myself a copy. A girl can only resist for so long.

Since first reading Affinity several years ago, Sarah Waters has been on my list of favorite authors. Each book that she writes is different from the last, and The Little Stranger is no exception, although I would argue that this is probably her biggest departure to date. The Little Stranger is a chilling horror story in the grand tradition of The Turn of the Screw and The Haunting of Hill House and is every bit as frightening. I’ve said before that it can be difficult to write a really good ghost story, and it’s true, but in this case, Waters’ ability to evoke atmosphere while practicing restraint has created an eerie story that will keep your nerves taut and your emotions on edge from the very first page.

Dr. Faraday is a middle-aged bachelor and a doctor, operating a general practice in a small town in post-World War II England. As a young boy, he visited grand Hundreds Hall, where his mother was a nursemaid, and now goes about his work in the shadow of this house, a country estate whose glory days are long past. One day, he is called to the hall to see to a sick servant girl, and so begins a tale that has as many dark corners and twisting turns as the house itself.

Hundreds Hall and its surrounding community is an apt example of the decline of the British class system and the state of the country after the war, with the hall becoming a sad ghost of its former self, through neglect and lack of money. Land is sold and parcelled out for subdivision-style housing, and the inhabitants must adjust to their new reality, some with more difficulty than others, and watching them cling to their more grandiose past is both painful and pathetic. Dr. Faraday is also a figure of pity mixed with a bit of scorn, with his sychophantic tendencies doing battle with the more morose aspects of his character. But one has to wonder, is it them or the house?

There are many more elements which make The Little Stranger such a rich reading experience; however, it’s difficult to write too much about this book without giving away any of its secrets, of which there are many. So in an effort not to spoil this wonderful book for other readers, I will avoid going into any more detail. Suffice it to say that if you like a good ghost story, if you enjoy reading about the time period in which this book takes place, or if you are a fan of Sarah Waters, you will want to read this book, with its haunting story that lingers with you long after the last page is turned.