The other kind of pareidolia:
I was examining my own response to the 'Stone Girl' incident & photographs, in a critical way, and found that I couldn't resist being too narrow-minded simply because of my own interests: history, art and literature, ghost stories real and fictional, and
especially what I consider to be the charm and elegance and grandeur of ghost stories generally. The first aspect - charm - is tied up in everything from a particular notion of England and its history as something often quaint and poignant, to a kind of moral justice in which victims of wrongdoing - ever returning as ghosts - remind us that they were once living, vibrant fellow humans whose lives frequently ended tragically. This perspective of mine even extends to fictional ghosts who are viewed as being vengeful and villainous; it's why the beautiful and charming illustration below - from Susan Hill's classic ghost story
The Woman in Black - makes me overlook the ghost's malicious if futile revenge and instead consider her to be a victim of life, really, a victim of others and an object worthy of sympathy. This image especially subtly references all manner of things from Caspar Friedrich's paintings to the Reformation to a far more personal tale one cast-out of society: a vignette of Jennet Humfrye's bereavement, sadness and loneliness. It also, perhaps, references van Gogh's tormented final painting before his suicide:
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And so my responses to the mystery discussed in this thread reveals me not as the objective 'blank slate' expected of a true Fortean or investigator but someone who, from the beginning, was so captivated by the whole business that it was all too easy and tempting to mentally conjure up a backstory for the Stone Girl. All the ingredients for this fantasy were lying in wait for me - the weight of England's history during the Henrician and Elizabethan periods; the notion of quiet, rural charm, 'the green and pleasant land'; the poignancy of so many ghost stories of abandoned, betrayed or misused women whose ghostly presences continue to alert us to their lives and deaths; and of course our natural concern with mortality and posterity. All this and more coloured my thoughts and ideas, and it made me
Romantic when I should ideally have been neutral, curious and discerning. This is the magic of Fortean phenomena and of imagination, certainly, but it is a fault - after all, I can't even be sure whether the whole Stone Girl thing is genuine, or a hoax or an innocent misinterpretation. Ghost stories, perhaps, reveal us as much as they reveal strange phenomena.