Every screw has both a groove and thread, two sides complimenting each other and with each turn securing and driving towards the same ultimate goal. All good stories are like screws in this way, interpretation and personal view point lead along two separate yet intertwining paths but end in a synonymous destination. In The Turn of the Screw, Henry James does just that, supplying the vague ambiguities of a teetering seesaw, one second we lean towards the belief that Bly is truly haunted by evil spirits of the past while the next minute we are equally convinced that they are merely hallucinations of a paranoid, suppressive, power-driven, woman. But by the end we must resolve the matter for ourselves, the purposeful haziness of the mystifying account comes around full fold leaving us to with only one conclusion. I believe the multifaceted mystery of Bly was simply a concoction...