Walter de la Mare's 'The Return' is a quiet, unsettling novel that proves the most profound horrors are often the most personal.

The Story

Arthur Lawford is a decent, somewhat worn-down English gentleman. One autumn afternoon, feeling unwell, he rests in a neglected churchyard beside the grave of an 18th-century Frenchman, Nicholas Sabathier, who died by suicide. He falls into a deep, strange sleep. Upon waking, he feels different. When he returns home, the shock comes: his face in the mirror is not his own. He bears the sharp, distinctive features of Sabathier. To his wife, Sheila, and his young daughter, he is a disturbing stranger occupying their husband and father's clothes and memories. The doctor is called, friends are skeptical, and Arthur is trapped. The only person who doesn't immediately reject him is a curious and compassionate neighbor, Herbert Herbert, who sees a glimmer of the real man within the unfamiliar shell. The plot follows Arthur's desperate, lonely struggle to prove his own existence and reclaim his life, all while wrestling with the eerie, lingering personality of Sabathier that seems to be merging with his own.

Why You Should Read It

This book hooked me because it's so deeply human. It's less about a supernatural event and more about its devastating consequences. De la Mare masterfully explores how fragile our identity really is—it's not just what we see in the mirror, but how the world sees and confirms us. Arthur's agony is palpable. The chilling part isn't a jump scare; it's his wife's cold, rational disbelief, or the way his own home becomes a hostile place. The prose is beautiful but never showy, creating a thick atmosphere of melancholy and autumn decay that perfectly matches Arthur's inner state. It makes you ask: What makes you, you? If everyone you trusted said you were someone else, how long could you hold on?

Final Verdict

Perfect for readers who love a thoughtful, character-driven ghost story without cheap thrills. If you enjoyed the psychological unease of Henry James's The Turn of the Screw or the quiet, eerie atmosphere of Shirley Jackson's work, this is your next read. It's not a fast-paced adventure; it's a slow, immersive walk through a fog of doubt and identity. You'll finish it and sit quietly for a minute, looking at the world—and yourself—a little differently.