Kristian Mercer

Perils of the Night

I have a secret weakness for a good Gothic. In fact – looking back – I think it was this subset of the romance genre that first drew me in. I know that I read my first Victoria Holt novel (perhaps The Emerald Mask? an adaptation featured in the pages of Good Housekeeping magazine, anyway) at an extremely early age.

Imagine my delight when I discovered the longer, more detailed versions of Holt’s novels in the public library – not to mention Phyllis Whitney, Madeline Brent, and (of course!) Mary Stewart. A whole new exciting, exotic world opened to me.

If you’re a young, romantic girl given to daydreams and brought up on fairy tales (as I was), I think it's likely that you'll be seduced by the Gothic. Only consider the standard elements. For setting, choose one crumbling castle, manor, or monastery located on a windswept moor, desolate wilderness, or craggy hillside above the sea. Throw in a plot revolving around a legacy to be revealed, a curse to be lifted, or a treasure to be found.

Then add the dark, brooding, charismatic hero…

Really, who could resist?

All that aside, I think it's actually the innocent and/or unsophisticated heroine that's the most important part of this mix. Generally the Gothic novel is narrated from her point of view, in the first-person voice; the reader is therefore restricted to what she knows, what she sees, and how she responds to the clues she is given.

Identification with the heroine can be unavoidable, especially if she has qualities (besides the aforementioned innocence and lack of sophistication) that resonate with the reader.

Of course this type of structure is limiting. It can also be very exciting, if the book is written well. Since we only know as much as the narrator knows - and since we identify with her - we’re desperate to turn the page and share in the thrill of her discovery.

Just think about Charlotte Bronte’s classic Jane Eyre. This novel has all the elements of a good Gothic – the poor, obscure heroine who finds herself working in a dark, mysterious mansion under the auspices of a dark, mysterious man. She notices things – a knob twisting on a locked door, a reluctance among the servants to answer her questions – but she doesn’t put the details together until it’s too late.

She falls in love with the brooding hero. She has to flee to save herself – from him. At one point, the happily-ever-after ending that we all want looks to be in serious jeopardy.

I’ve read Jane Eyre many times. I’ve seen several of the film versions. And yet I was riveted by the most recent BBC/Masterpiece Theatre production. I had to keep watching. I had to know what would happen next. I wept with relief, with joy, at the end.

Say what you will about the Gothic – it still works.

P.S. And if you’re looking for a more contemporary version, check out Diane Setterfield’s The Thirteenth Tale. A reclusive author, a mysterious secret – and an homage to Jane Eyre? Again, I ask – who could resist?