“Where the Woodbine Twineth” (1964)

Davis Grubb’s story was evidently a hit in its time, published originally as “You Never Believe Me” and the same year under the present title in a collection of Grubb’s stories. Then the following year it was adapted for an episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (directed by Alf Kjellin). Unfortunately, at the moment that production is a property of Peacock and hard to see if you’re not subscribed (but a nice sample of nearly 12 minutes can be found on youtube). Grubb is perhaps best known for writing the source novel for the 1955 Southern gothic film, The Night of the Hunter. I would say the story is also more of a Southern gothic than horror, strictly speaking, with indeed much the same vibe as The Night of the Hunter. In many ways they feel like fairy tales or perhaps fables. The phrase “where the woodbine twineth,” meanwhile, has murky origins and even definitions. I like the one that says it comes from Mark Twain’s Life on the Mississippi, published in 1883, where it is used as an evasive answer to mean “obsolete” or “dead.” Typical Southern effusive overdoing it. Others look for and find fragments of it in older sources, including Shakespeare. The story has a little of the modern style—acknowledging racism exists, for example—which doubtless explains its TV adaptation in 1965. It is actually quite old-fashioned Southern business and even retrograde in its casual acceptance of child mistreatment. Eva is an orphaned girl now under the care of her Aunt Nell, who does not understand her and has no patience for her vivid imagination (and/or psychic abilities, as the story attempts to both eat and have its cake in terms of the supernatural). Nell is even seen shaking Eva at one point. It’s a sad story when you think about it, even Dickensian. Eva is lonely and has many imaginary friends, but Nell disapproves of all that. Eva’s descriptions of her encounters do sound a bit dissociative. Nell thinks it’s unhealthy or morbid. Eva’s interactions are so vivid that Nell thinks she hears others talking with Eva. The story turns and races for its end when her grandfather gives her a gift he bought in New Orleans—a large African-American doll that Eva dubs Numa, claiming her arrival was foreseen by her other imaginary friends. Or faeries and whatnot, now that we’re into it. Numa is a nice touch, taking the story to its next level and ultimately the twist end. In terms of the shock twist ending sweepstakes, it’s not bad. It holds out not only until the last paragraph, but until the final clauses of the last sentence, to deliver it. On the other hand, you might have already guessed it and checked the last paragraph for verification (something I never do, by the way). The problem, starting perhaps about here in the ‘60s, is that shock twist endings themselves can get to be a bit rote. Much the same is true for the Hitchcock episode, as I recall, as well as various others and also Twilight Zone and the underrated Night Gallery episodes while we’re at it. That youtube clip is a good representation of the show, which had a kind of stillness that wasn’t common then and isn’t seen very often now, a matter of budget as much as direction, I would guess. It was always a nice mood when I watched the late-night reruns of them.

Realms of Darkness, ed. Mary Danby (out of print)
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