Skip to content

Excerpt

Excerpt from The Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton — Part 1, by Edith Wharton

“You ought to buy it,” said my host; “it’s just the place for a
solitary-minded devil like you. And it would be rather worth while to
own the most romantic house in Brittany. The present people are dead
broke, and it’s going for a song--you ought to buy it.”

It was not with the least idea of living up to the character my friend
Lanrivain ascribed to me (as a matter of fact, under my unsociable
exterior I have always had secret yearnings for domesticity) that I took
his hint one autumn afternoon and went to Kerfol. My friend was motoring
over to Quimper on business: he dropped me on the way, at a cross-road
on a heath, and said: “First turn to the right and second to the left.
Then straight ahead till you see an avenue. If you meet any peasants,
don’t ask your way. They don’t understand French, and they would pretend
they did and mix you up. I’ll be back for you here by sunset--and don’t
forget the tombs in the chapel.”

I followed Lanrivain’s directions with the hesitation occasioned by the
usual difficulty of remembering whether he had said the first turn
to the right and second to the left, or the contrary. If I had met a
peasant I should certainly have asked, and probably been sent astray;
but I had the desert landscape to myself, and so stumbled on the right
turn and walked on across the heath till I came to an avenue. It was so
unlike any other avenue I have ever seen that I instantly knew it must
be THE avenue. The grey-trunked trees sprang up straight to a great
height and then interwove their pale-grey branches in a long tunnel
through which the autumn light fell faintly. I know most trees by name,
but I haven’t to this day been able to decide what those trees were.
They had the tall curve of elms, the tenuity of poplars, the ashen
colour of olives under a rainy sky; and they stretched ahead of me for
half a mile or more without a break in their arch. If ever I saw an
avenue that unmistakably led to something, it was the avenue at Kerfol.
My heart beat a little as I began to walk down it.


Explanation

Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from The Early Short Fiction of Edith Wharton ("Kerfol")

Context & Source

This passage is from "Kerfol", one of Edith Wharton’s early ghost stories, first published in The Century Magazine (1916) and later included in her collection Here and Beyond (1926). Wharton, known for her sharp social commentary (The Age of Innocence, The House of Mirth), also wrote eerie, psychologically nuanced ghost stories. "Kerfol" is set in Brittany, France, a region steeped in Celtic folklore, ruined estates, and supernatural legends—perfect for a gothic tale.

The story follows an unnamed narrator who visits the abandoned estate of Kerfol, where a tragic history unfolds through spectral echoes of the past. The excerpt introduces the narrator’s arrival at Kerfol, framed by his friend Lanrivain’s offhand suggestion to buy the "most romantic house in Brittany"—a place with a dark, unseen allure.


Themes in the Excerpt

  1. Isolation & the Solitary Mind

    • The narrator is described as a "solitary-minded devil," a label he partially rejects (he secretly yearns for domesticity). This tension—between outward detachment and inner longing—sets up his psychological vulnerability to Kerfol’s haunting atmosphere.
    • The heath and avenue are desolate, emphasizing isolation. The absence of peasants (who "don’t understand French" and would "mix you up") suggests a place cut off from human connection, where one is left to confront the unknown alone.
  2. The Romanticization of Ruin & the Past

    • Lanrivain calls Kerfol the "most romantic house in Brittany," but his tone is ironic. "Romantic" here doesn’t mean love—it evokes the Gothic Romantic tradition (e.g., Poe, Walpole), where decay and mystery are seductive. The house’s cheap price ("going for a song") hints at a cursed or tragic history.
    • The narrator, despite his skepticism, is drawn in, his heart beating as he walks the avenue—suggesting an unconscious attraction to the macabre.
  3. The Uncanny & the Unknown

    • The avenue is unnatural: the trees defy classification ("the tall curve of elms, the tenuity of poplars, the ashen colour of olives"), making them seem otherworldly. This ambiguity mirrors the story’s central mystery—what really happened at Kerfol?
    • The phrase "If ever I saw an avenue that unmistakably led to something" is ominous. The "something" is left undefined, creating dread. The Gothic thrives on suggestion, not explicit horror.
  4. Memory & Haunting

    • The story (and this passage) foreshadows Kerfol’s lingering past. The narrator is a modern man, yet he’s stepping into a space where time is not linear—where the past intrudes. The "tombs in the chapel" Lanrivain mentions hint at buried secrets.

Literary Devices & Style

  1. Foreshadowing & Dramatic Irony

    • Lanrivain’s casual advice ("don’t forget the tombs") is loaded with irony. The reader senses these tombs are significant, but the narrator doesn’t yet grasp why.
    • The phrase "going for a song" (meaning cheaply) takes on a sinister double meaning—songs, in folklore, often accompany death or laments.
  2. Imagery & Atmosphere

    • Visual: The "grey-trunked trees" and "pale-grey branches" create a monochromatic, ghostly palette, reinforcing the estate’s lifelessness. The "autumn light" is faint, suggesting decay.
    • Tactile/Spatial: The avenue is a tunnel, a liminal space between the ordinary world and Kerfol’s secrets. The narrator’s hesitation (forgetting directions) mirrors the disorientation of entering a haunted space.
  3. Unreliable Narration & Psychological Depth

    • The narrator claims he’s not as solitary as Lanrivain thinks, but his actions (wandering alone into an eerie estate) suggest otherwise. Wharton often explores self-deception—her characters (and readers) uncover truths they’d rather avoid.
    • The line "under my unsociable exterior I have always had secret yearnings for domesticity" is telling. His longing for home makes him vulnerable to Kerfol’s illusions—later in the story, he’ll encounter phantom domestic scenes.
  4. Symbolism

    • The Avenue: Represents the path to the past. Its unnatural trees symbolize how Kerfol defies natural order—it’s a place where the dead are not at rest.
    • The Crossroads: The narrator is dropped at a literal and metaphorical crossroads—a choice between the rational world and the supernatural.

Significance of the Passage

  1. Gothic Tradition & Wharton’s Innovation

    • Wharton subverts classic Gothic tropes. Unlike Radcliffe or Poe, her horror is psychological and subtle. The terror isn’t in a jumping ghost but in the creeping realization that the past is inescapable.
    • The "romantic" house is a false promise—beauty hides violence, a common Wharton theme (see Ethan Frome).
  2. The Narrator’s Role

    • He’s a modern, skeptical man, yet he’s drawn into a pre-modern, supernatural world. His journey mirrors the reader’s: we, too, are lured by the "romantic" mystery, only to confront something darker.
    • His heartbeat as he walks the avenue is the first sign that Kerfol affects him physically—a Gothic trope where environments infect the protagonist.
  3. Brittany as a Character

    • Wharton uses Brittany’s Celtic mysticism (a land of standing stones, fairy tales, and vengeful spirits) to ground her ghost story in cultural authenticity. The peasants’ incomprehensibility reinforces Kerfol as a place outside normal time.

Key Takeaways from the Text Itself

  • The passage establishes mood through sensory deprivation (no people, muted colors, uncertain directions).
  • The narrator’s internal conflict (solitary vs. domestic) makes him a vulnerable witness to Kerfol’s hauntings.
  • The avenue is a threshold—once he enters, he’s committed to uncovering (or being uncovered by) the estate’s secrets.
  • Wharton’s prose is precise yet ambiguous—she describes the trees in detail but leaves their true nature (and Kerfol’s) a mystery.

Connection to the Full Story (Without Spoilers)

Later, the narrator discovers that Kerfol’s "romance" is a tragedy of betrayal and violence. The estate is haunted not by chains or wails but by echoes of a woman’s suffering—a quiet, persistent horror. This excerpt’s unease is the first step into that revelation.

Wharton’s genius is in making the ordinary seem sinister. A simple walk down an avenue becomes a descent into the uncanny, where the past is not dead but waiting.