The Turn of the Screw

I’ve lost count of how many books I’ve discovered through Mike Flanagan’s Netflix adaptations — but this one was no exception. I watched the series first and only then read the novella.

Flanagan’s adaptation of The Turn of the Screw is called The Haunting of Bly Manor. It has 9 episodes and follows the same basic plot as the novella, but Flanagan adds more depth and brings in important themes of his own. For example, the series gives time to almost every character — we get to see the story from the perspectives of both governesses, the uncle, the children, and more. I also love what Flanagan does with the concept of ghosts here. It feels fresh and interesting. I noticed a similar idea in The Others with Nicole Kidman, but Flanagan takes it further.

The cast is the same wonderful group of actors he always works with, and the performances are great as usual. The atmosphere is disturbing, and attention to detail is everywhere. This series isn’t just another horror — it’s another masterpiece packed with meaning: love, betrayal, self-sacrifice, guilt, lies and hope. Highly recommend for those who aren’t afraid of horror and unsettling atmospheres!

P.S. I need to make a confession — I think I’m in love with Mike Flanagan’s taste in source material. He always picks such interesting books to adapt, and somehow makes them even better. It’s mind-blowing. I genuinely hope he gets the recognition he deserves.

Do you know what life is really all about? Keys. See, people are like locked rooms. They’ve all got different locks and you’ve got to guess the shape of their key.

Now, the novella itself, published in 1898 — a work that influenced the development of British and American literature, cinema, and even music.

The Turn of the Screw is about 150 pages long, but it may take longer than expected. The main character constantly pours out streams of consciousness, and combined with the rather heavy, old-fashioned style, you might find yourself rereading the same sentence several times without being sure what it’s actually saying.

There are two possible interpretations of the story:

1. The main character is an unreliable narrator — possibly mentally ill — and the ghosts are hallucinations. She believes she’s saving the children from a danger that doesn’t exist.

2. The main character is not ill, the ghosts are real, and the children are genuinely in danger.

The story captivated me enough that I immediately went looking for reviews and extra material after finishing it. There’s very little written about it in the Russian-speaking corner of the internet, which makes sense — this author feels more central to British and American literary history than to Russian literary culture.

Some critics connect the work to Freudian themes, and the author also raises questions about children’s (in)innocence and adults’ anxieties about children growing up.