02-16-2009, 12:45 AM
I thought it might be interesting to take a consensus on what readers look for in a great Gothic read. This might also be interesting and useful to any aspiring Gothic fiction writers out there.
To get the ball rolling, I'll post my own preferences. Here's what I hope to find when I pick up a Gothic romantic suspense novel:
(1) A wonderful, appealing, intelligent heroine. She must have the brains, courage and charm to make me want to follow her through the story to the end. She needn't be gorgeous or flawless, just strongly likable -- and she must display warmth and sympathy, as well as guts and independence of mind, without exhibiting herself or boasting of her deeds (this especially true if the book is written in the first person). A good example of this: On The Night of The Seventh Moon by Victoria Holt.
(2) A "dark horse" anti-hero male lead. Whether or not he turns out to be the villain or the groom, the male lead should act as the brooding thundercloud foil to the heroine's warm light. I expect a heavy cloak of mystery to hang about him, and the best authors will keep you guessing whether he's good or bad up until the climax of the story. A good example of this: Nicholas Van Ryn, the tragic Byronic epitome in Anya Seton's Dragonwyck. (NOTE: There are good Gothics without this exact archetype, or a toned-down version of it. This depends on how strong the romantic element is; stories emphasizing the mystery/suspense side of the genre sometimes replace the good/bad uncertainty with the "Will she end up with him/Won't she?" conundrum.)
(3) A strongly atmospheric, ominous setting. Perhaps this item should be first on the list. We all love the shadowy house/castle on the cover with the single menacing light on in the tower room/attic/forbidden top floor. It doesn't matter so much to me whether the place is a castle, manor house, plantation or even a hotel, but it must be old, with a personality of its own, and an all but palpable history attached to it, possibly even suggestions of a curse or haunting. Indeed one of the traits of a true Gothic is that the building transcends a mere setting for the action and almost becomes a character itself. The author must be able to put me in this environment and convey a sense of dread and chill that would seem to exude from the very walls. And of course the locale must also be appropriately dramatic and remote: on a crag high over a gray, choppy sea; on a mist-laden moor; lost in a dark wood; in a lonely swamp into which it is slowly, slowly sinking. A good example of this: Evelyn Berckman's The Evil of Time or The Heir of Starvelings.
(4) An idyllic opening that goes awry. Often a Gothic begins with a new and promising change of environment for the leading lady. She's the well-bred but impoverished orphan who must either marry or find a living; the invitation to work as governess/secretary/nurse/etc. in a romantic castle seems a prospect fallen from heaven into her lap. But soon after she settles in, she discovers that not everything is as it should be. A sense of unease begins to gnaw at her, as unfathomable forces seem to be working against her well-being. A good example of this: The Winter Bride by Carola Salisbury. (NOTE: Some Gothics start right in with the sinister atmosphere, for instance when the protagonist is forced to enter a foreboding castle to secretly gather information or look for something presumably hidden there. E. Berckman often uses this device instead of the traditional opener.)
(5) A secret to be uncovered, a mystery to be solved. Obviously the meat of the story will be the answering of some riddle that plagues the heroine. Her very safety should depend on this resolution. The woes that assail the heroine in a typical Gothic -- mysterious attempts at her life, unsettling shadows or voices, cryptic warnings, the innuendo that she may be losing her mind -- should come from ambiguous directions. We always suspect the often competing male characters -- which one will turn out to be good and which bad? In fact everyone else in the book (with the exception of a possible confidante) must take on suspicious and sinister attributes in the heroine's beleaguered mind. And not only is the "who" in question but also the "why" -- for what possible reason could someone wish her harm, even death? I won't keep turning pages unless the author makes it impossible for me not to care about what happens next. A good example of this: Secret of Canfield House by Florence Hurd.
(6) A thrilling climax and plausible resolution. This is where a lot of authors let me down. Even in otherwise great books I find this weakness -- the author either goes way too far over the top and loses my credibility, or not far enough and loses my interest. A maudlin or melodramatic ending is as disappointing as a tepid, predictable one. I expect the story to be neatly wrapped up at the end (read: a "happy" ending, or at least a satisfying one), with all the loose threads accounted for. I also want all the characters to get what they deserve, to learn their lessons. But of course an element of surprise at the end is most welcome. The very best books surprise you in a way that feels believable and inevitable. A good example of this: Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart.
(7) The small but fun trappings of the genre. These are less essential but of personal interest to many readers who turn again and again to Gothic fiction for their "escape therapy". A few that leap to mind: grottoes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grotto) and follies (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Folly), both wonderful touches of which I never tire; coffee or tea, over which lots of important information may be exposed, or which the heroine simply downs by the seeming gallon and often to the exclusion of all other sustenance; turret rooms (http://farm1.static.flickr.com/131/37359...2d.jpg?v=0), just because they're the most romantic of architectural features (along with oriel windows) and who wouldn't want to have one in their house? Also castles/houses on islands (http://media-2.web.britannica.com/eb-med...C87CD8.jpg); and of course hidden passageways/hidden rooms; grandfather clocks; four-poster tester beds (http://www.stuartinteriors.ltd.uk/images...terBed.jpg) -- the threat of a heavy oaken tester mysteriously falling on one while asleep is only too delicious; and of course unremitting Gothic weather (http://www.cosleyhouston.com/images/rece...G_3995.jpg); the list goes on but becomes increasingly trivial!
It also goes without saying that good writing -- and hopefully a little style -- are not to be despised in a Gothic (or in any novel). Aside from a solid plot and competent execution, something distinctive in the auctorial voice goes a long way in drawing me to an author and the story she tells. There are so many examples of this in the genre, but Berckman, Du Maurier and Seton really leap to mind for stylistic elegance.
Anybody else want to add to this list? All the above is only the perspective of one reader, and I'd love to hear what others look for when they read a Gothic.
To get the ball rolling, I'll post my own preferences. Here's what I hope to find when I pick up a Gothic romantic suspense novel:
(1) A wonderful, appealing, intelligent heroine. She must have the brains, courage and charm to make me want to follow her through the story to the end. She needn't be gorgeous or flawless, just strongly likable -- and she must display warmth and sympathy, as well as guts and independence of mind, without exhibiting herself or boasting of her deeds (this especially true if the book is written in the first person). A good example of this: On The Night of The Seventh Moon by Victoria Holt.
(2) A "dark horse" anti-hero male lead. Whether or not he turns out to be the villain or the groom, the male lead should act as the brooding thundercloud foil to the heroine's warm light. I expect a heavy cloak of mystery to hang about him, and the best authors will keep you guessing whether he's good or bad up until the climax of the story. A good example of this: Nicholas Van Ryn, the tragic Byronic epitome in Anya Seton's Dragonwyck. (NOTE: There are good Gothics without this exact archetype, or a toned-down version of it. This depends on how strong the romantic element is; stories emphasizing the mystery/suspense side of the genre sometimes replace the good/bad uncertainty with the "Will she end up with him/Won't she?" conundrum.)
(3) A strongly atmospheric, ominous setting. Perhaps this item should be first on the list. We all love the shadowy house/castle on the cover with the single menacing light on in the tower room/attic/forbidden top floor. It doesn't matter so much to me whether the place is a castle, manor house, plantation or even a hotel, but it must be old, with a personality of its own, and an all but palpable history attached to it, possibly even suggestions of a curse or haunting. Indeed one of the traits of a true Gothic is that the building transcends a mere setting for the action and almost becomes a character itself. The author must be able to put me in this environment and convey a sense of dread and chill that would seem to exude from the very walls. And of course the locale must also be appropriately dramatic and remote: on a crag high over a gray, choppy sea; on a mist-laden moor; lost in a dark wood; in a lonely swamp into which it is slowly, slowly sinking. A good example of this: Evelyn Berckman's The Evil of Time or The Heir of Starvelings.
(4) An idyllic opening that goes awry. Often a Gothic begins with a new and promising change of environment for the leading lady. She's the well-bred but impoverished orphan who must either marry or find a living; the invitation to work as governess/secretary/nurse/etc. in a romantic castle seems a prospect fallen from heaven into her lap. But soon after she settles in, she discovers that not everything is as it should be. A sense of unease begins to gnaw at her, as unfathomable forces seem to be working against her well-being. A good example of this: The Winter Bride by Carola Salisbury. (NOTE: Some Gothics start right in with the sinister atmosphere, for instance when the protagonist is forced to enter a foreboding castle to secretly gather information or look for something presumably hidden there. E. Berckman often uses this device instead of the traditional opener.)
(5) A secret to be uncovered, a mystery to be solved. Obviously the meat of the story will be the answering of some riddle that plagues the heroine. Her very safety should depend on this resolution. The woes that assail the heroine in a typical Gothic -- mysterious attempts at her life, unsettling shadows or voices, cryptic warnings, the innuendo that she may be losing her mind -- should come from ambiguous directions. We always suspect the often competing male characters -- which one will turn out to be good and which bad? In fact everyone else in the book (with the exception of a possible confidante) must take on suspicious and sinister attributes in the heroine's beleaguered mind. And not only is the "who" in question but also the "why" -- for what possible reason could someone wish her harm, even death? I won't keep turning pages unless the author makes it impossible for me not to care about what happens next. A good example of this: Secret of Canfield House by Florence Hurd.
(6) A thrilling climax and plausible resolution. This is where a lot of authors let me down. Even in otherwise great books I find this weakness -- the author either goes way too far over the top and loses my credibility, or not far enough and loses my interest. A maudlin or melodramatic ending is as disappointing as a tepid, predictable one. I expect the story to be neatly wrapped up at the end (read: a "happy" ending, or at least a satisfying one), with all the loose threads accounted for. I also want all the characters to get what they deserve, to learn their lessons. But of course an element of surprise at the end is most welcome. The very best books surprise you in a way that feels believable and inevitable. A good example of this: Nine Coaches Waiting by Mary Stewart.
(7) The small but fun trappings of the genre. These are less essential but of personal interest to many readers who turn again and again to Gothic fiction for their "escape therapy". A few that leap to mind: grottoes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grotto) and follies (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Folly), both wonderful touches of which I never tire; coffee or tea, over which lots of important information may be exposed, or which the heroine simply downs by the seeming gallon and often to the exclusion of all other sustenance; turret rooms (http://farm1.static.flickr.com/131/37359...2d.jpg?v=0), just because they're the most romantic of architectural features (along with oriel windows) and who wouldn't want to have one in their house? Also castles/houses on islands (http://media-2.web.britannica.com/eb-med...C87CD8.jpg); and of course hidden passageways/hidden rooms; grandfather clocks; four-poster tester beds (http://www.stuartinteriors.ltd.uk/images...terBed.jpg) -- the threat of a heavy oaken tester mysteriously falling on one while asleep is only too delicious; and of course unremitting Gothic weather (http://www.cosleyhouston.com/images/rece...G_3995.jpg); the list goes on but becomes increasingly trivial!
It also goes without saying that good writing -- and hopefully a little style -- are not to be despised in a Gothic (or in any novel). Aside from a solid plot and competent execution, something distinctive in the auctorial voice goes a long way in drawing me to an author and the story she tells. There are so many examples of this in the genre, but Berckman, Du Maurier and Seton really leap to mind for stylistic elegance.
Anybody else want to add to this list? All the above is only the perspective of one reader, and I'd love to hear what others look for when they read a Gothic.
