As with many of their episodes, The Magnus Archives wastes no time jumping right into the story with this episode, Page Turner. This episode follows the statement of a man named Dominic Swain, and we learn a good deal about him right from the beginning. Swain works as a theatre technician at different locations at the West End, and he makes a point to say that he’s not “prone to crazed flights of fancy,” as if he’s aware that whatever story he’s about to tell sound impractical. Swain makes it clear that he wants to be believed.
At some point, an old friend who happened to be an actress invited him to one of her shows. According to himself, the two of them had had some sort of relationship in the past, and Swain was eager to see if their flame could rekindle; thus, he was certain he wanted to attend this showing. He arrived to the show a bit early, however, and decided to spend the hour or two he had to waste at a nearby bookstore. In his own words, Swain says he did not typically take the time to read or look for books, but he found himself doing so regardless. His search led him to a book titled “Ex Altiora,” and Swain–with his limited Latin knowledge–recognizes the phrase to mean “From Higher” or “Out of the Heights.”
Swain makes mention that the book had no title or distinguisher on the leather cover, that it seemed to be bound in genuine leather, that it looked as if it were hand-bound, and that the book was absolutely not priced as high as it should be. Only being priced at 4 pounds, Swain was incredibly surprised at how a book that seemed to be completely handcrafted was so cheap. Rather than inquire about this with an employee, Swain kept the knowledge to himself in order to walk away with what seemed to be an absolute steal. He bought the book and almost ended up being late to the play as he examined it (which he takes the time to point out is quite uncharacteristic of him).
The show was “fine,” according to Swain. Despite not being a fan of Greek plays, he mentions that his friend, Katherine, had acted fantastically. The rest of the play was not worth mentioning, apparently. Except for the fact that he smelled ozone, apparently. Swain assumed it was a light that had been mis-ordered, mentioning that he’d seen something similar happen before in his experience of working at theatres. No one else seemed to notice the smell, so Swain kept the information to himself.
After the show, he and Katherine decided to get some dinner before continuing on their own ways. Swain was disappointed when there was no longer any traces of attraction between them, though they did still have a decent relationship as friends at least. During their dinner, Swain decided to show her the book he’d bought; however, she knew less Latin than him and couldn’t make out much of it, and for some reason the pictures apparently triggered her vertigo. Swain could not make any explanation for this, and so that was that.
The next day, Swain decided to do more research on the book. However, his search came up rather short. Between both online searches and getting in contact with bookshop owners and bookkeepers, absolutely no one knew anything about this book. It didn’t appear anywhere online, and while some bookkeepers could identify it as some old 19th century artifact (and even offered to buy it for some pricey amounts), no one could give any information on it. Swain was simply too interested and decided he wasn’t quite ready to part with it.
At his next work shift, Swain mentions he was repeated fumbling, off his game. His mind was preoccupied with the book, which in turn distracted him as he worked. More interestingly, he continued to smell ozone as he had during his friend’s play. Every so often, he would experience a bout of vertigo (which definitely seems too much a coincidence considering we remember his friend’s vertigo being triggered by the book). Rather than hang out with anyone after his shift, Swain decides it was a better idea to take a walk and clear his head with the fresh air. However, he seemed to fall into some sort of trance as he walked, going at a much faster speed than anyone normally would and seemingly blacking out. Before he knew it, he’d crossed half the city. According to himself, it was more like sleeping than walking, simply moving forward. His body remained awake while his mind had fallen asleep.
When he came to, Swain found himself in front of Pinhole Books. Interestingly, he finally doesn’t smell ozone anymore. Stating he’d been planning to visit this place regardless, Swain decides to go ahead inside. He was greeted by an older lady who had an interesting appearance: completely bald and covered in tattoos that appear to Swain as old eldritch ruins and symbols (like a weird nun, he says). The woman is annoyed at being bothered at the late hour, considering Swain hadn’t had an appointment, but he manages to show her the book before she can kick him out.
The old lady seemed quite interested in the book, and so Swain is miraculously allowed inside. They enter a cramped room with books piled high in every which way, almost as if the place were a labyrinth. Swain mentions he had to be careful while following the woman as to not knock any of the piles over. Eventually, they reach a room that isn’t quite as full of books. On one of the walls is a massive painting of an eyeball that was made up of various hand-drawn symbols and overlapping designs. It was interesting: once Swain noticed the individual designs that made up the eye, it was difficult to see the painting as an eye. Beside the painting was a prayer for clarity in things human senses cannot perceive.
Mary Key–the old lady–reveals that Jared Key is the one who drew the eyeball painting (clearly, some sort of relation to Mary Key). Eventually, Mary Key brings out a copy of the book that is nearly identical to Swain’s copy. Hers, however, is written in Sanskrit rather than Latin. When asked if she could read the language, Mary decided to instead take the book to a desk light and held it to the bulb. When she handed the book back to Swain, she gestured for him to turn the pages. When he did, animal bones fell out from the book.
The bones were all from small animals, like frogs or rats. Swain noted that the bones, while strange, seemed to be shaped properly. However, the more pages he turned, the more disfigured the bones became, warped and malformed. Swain asks the lady if his copy of the book does this same thing, and rather than answer, she simply implores him to try it himself. He does indeed try, and while bones don’t start to fall out, something does happen. New lines of ink are added to his book, as if they’d simply been hidden somehow. A pattern emerges on a page that seems to strike a note with Swain, forcing his eyes to go wide as the smell of ozone begins to permeate from the book, as well as some other smell that he can’t recognize yet. Swain is confused and seemingly bothered by this, making up some quick excuse to leave before stumbling out of the bookstore and taking a cab home.
It is eventually revealed that the pattern Swain saw was that of a Lichtenberg figure, a figure that is typically associated with high voltage. The reason he remembered the figure was because he’d seen it before when he was 8 years old. While playing outside with a friend, it’d began to storm badly. Swain’s friend thought they should go inside, but Swain insisted they remain outside to play some more. They continued to play, and his friend was struck by lightning. It was at this point that Swain recognized what the other smell had been: cooked meat. Even though his friend had survived the encounter with lightning, Swain says he was never the same and forever carried the Lichtenberg figure scarred into his skin.
Despite this terrifying discovery, Swain decides to keep the book. For some reason. Despite the ozone and the smell of burnt flesh tormenting him, he kept the book. Once he arrived home, Swain found himself unable to sleep for many hours. Eventually, he was almost calm enough to drift off, but a knock came to his door. Swain opens the door to find a pale and unshaven man who looks quite exhausted. For some reason, Swain asks if the man is Jared Key, to which he receives a yes. Jared makes it known that the woman was his mother and that he’d like to buy Swain’s book, offering a substantial 5,000 pounds.
Swain agrees, apparently eager to part with the book despite not getting rid of it already. Upon the agreement, Jared says that he’d be back with the money, leaving Swain alone in his home with the book still in his possession. While waiting for Jared to come back with the money, Swain ends up researching the Key family. To his surprise, he found the story of Mary Key’s death, found dead in the bookstore from an overdose. The reason it was deemed a murder rather than a suicide was the fact that someone had skinned the lady, hanging up the skin to dry on a set of fishing wires. On her skin was strange writing in Sanskrit. The story included a photo of Mary prior to her death, and there wasn’t a single tattoo on her while she’d been alive. Jared had apparently been a suspect at first, though he’d eventually been dismissed as one from some kind of evidence. Just as he was about to investigate further, Jared returned.
Swain says that the smell of ozone and burnt flesh got worse upon Jared’s arrival, but he made no mention of that to the other man. The money was given to him, and Swain didn’t even bother to count it before handing the book over. Once he had the book, Jared laughed “creepily” before swiftly setting the book on fire.
According to Swain, the smells of ozone and burnt flesh vanished immediately. Jared said that his mother didn’t always know what was best for the family, and then he simply left with the hot ashes of the book still in hand.
Swain was grateful nothing else came from this once everything was said and done.
This story, to me, is an interesting one as it seems to be very on-the-nose with The Magnus Archives statement:
Specifically, I am drawn to the second paragraph. The stories, individually, are unsettling, but together they begin to form a horrifying picture. Immediately, this reminds me of the eyeball painting. Swain noted that once he’d realized the eye was made up of individual designs and symbols, it was hard to see the eye as just as eye. This seems too much of a similarity to be mere coincidence. This story is certainly unsettling, but I definitely don’t think I’d put it into the ‘horrifying’ category. It is my belief that there is more to this story that we don’t know yet. As we have been told time and time again by this series, and by the TMA site itself, the archives only fully make sense when viewed together. There is something we’re unaware of, but that doesn’t mean we will not know soon.
There is a lot in this episode that does not get explained. For being the main point, the book itself goes unexplained. There is certainly something strange happening, but we get no conclusion other than the entire book being burnt to ash. Another thing that goes unexplained is that of Mary Key, a woman who had certainly died and yet had seemed quite alive to Swain. Her skin was covered in the symbols she hadn’t received until after her death. It raises the question of who, exactly, had that woman been? Had it actually been Mary Key, somehow alive once more, or someone simply parading as her?
There are a lot of things that simply don’t seem logical here, as is typical for TMA. But, it is also apparent that we will learn the more we dive in. Eventually, the things here will make sense. We just have to keep searching.
