The introduction to Colin II establishes a landscape saturated with history: a yew-hedge planted by the first Earl of Yardley in Elizabethan times, a lake created by the same hand, and a house that has weathered three centuries of English upheaval. Benson’s prose invests the setting with a symbolic weight that the catalog subject “paranormal fiction” only partially captures. The family’s unbroken prosperity is described as “anchored and protected beyond all power of ruinous vicissitudes,” yet the preface reminds us that this romance concerns a bargain with Satan. The tension between visible stability and invisible threat is the novel’s engine.

In the domestic scenes that follow, Colin’s return triggers a quiet struggle with his wife Violet over their son Dennis. The dialogue reveals Colin’s charm and casual authority, but Violet’s “tigress-motherhood” suggests she senses a danger the catalog does not name. The excerpts offer no explicit paranormal event, only the residue of a pact and a father’s ambiguous interest in his son’s “inheritance.”

A Landscape of Legacy

The opening pages of Colin II devote considerable attention to the physical fabric of the Stanier estate: the yew-hedge, the lake, the dam clothed with rhododendrons, and the house that “kept watch, stately and steadfast.” Benson uses these details to evoke continuity and power, but the preface undercuts this stability by reminding readers that the family’s fortunes rest on a supernatural bargain. The catalog subject “England — Fiction” is accurate but reductive; the setting is not generic English countryside but a carefully wrought symbol of inherited privilege and hidden cost. The description of the lake as “fifteen feet of dark water” and the hedge as a “serge rampart” suggests enclosure and depth, qualities that mirror the novel’s psychological and paranormal dimensions.

Father and Son: A Delicate Negotiation

The excerpted dialogue between Colin, Violet, and their son Dennis reveals a family dynamic that the catalog subject “Gay men — Fiction” does not directly illuminate. Colin’s language to Dennis is affectionate but manipulative: he calls him “old boy,” teases him about being “an ugly little devil,” and invites him to dinner with the promise of billiards. Yet Violet’s reaction—“Oh, Colin, leave me Dennis”—and her “tigress-motherhood” signal a deeper conflict. Colin speaks of Dennis’s “inheritance” and “family history” in terms that suggest more than property. The boy himself is cheerful and unguarded, calling his great-grandmother “dotty,” but the reader, aware of the satanic pact, may hear menace in Colin’s insistence that Dennis “must learn.”

The Unseen Bargain

The catalog lists “Paranormal fiction” as a subject, yet the excerpts contain no ghost, no apparition, no overt supernatural event. Instead, the paranormal is present as a backstory: the preface states that Colin II completes the history of “his association with the bargain his ancestor struck with Satan.” The novel’s paranormal element is thus structural rather than scenic—a premise that shapes character motivation and plot trajectory. In the domestic scenes, Colin’s interest in Dennis’s development takes on an ominous cast precisely because the reader knows about the pact. Benson’s method is to let the ordinary (a father returning home, a boy’s excitement) carry the weight of the extraordinary, a technique that distinguishes this work from more overtly supernatural fiction.

Voice and Control

Benson’s narrative voice in the introduction is formal and slightly archaic, with sentences like “the shadow of the great yew-hedge began to flow like some tide, dark and clear.” This elevated register contrasts with the colloquial, affectionate banter of the family scenes. The shift in tone is itself a clue: the house and its history are described in a language of permanence, while the human interactions are fleeting and charged. The catalog subject “Psychological & Social Fiction” fits this attention to inner states and family politics, but the excerpts also show Benson using setting as a psychological mirror. The “heat-hazed levels of the Romney marsh” and the “dark water” of the lake suggest a landscape that is both beautiful and threatening, much like Colin’s own charm.

Readers approaching Colin II should attend to the gap between what characters say and what the narrative implies. The preface frames the book as the second half of a romance about a diabolical bargain, but the excerpts focus on domestic reunion and paternal interest. Benson’s art lies in making the ordinary seem charged, and the reader’s task is to watch for the moment when the visible world cracks to reveal the pact beneath. The catalog subjects offer a map, but the novel’s power is in the spaces between them.