There
are two types of Gothic literature – Gothic Romance and Gothic Horror. Gothic
Horror tends to be of a later vintage than Gothic Romance. They stem from the
same roots, having things in common, but are completely separate beasts.
Romantic Roots
All
Gothic literature stems from the Romantic Movement which prevailed during the
Nineteenth Century. The movement stressed natural environments, the individual
in preference to the state and a general unbridling of individual passions and
emotions. All Gothic literature therefore will showcase natural environments –
woods; cliffs; mountains; oceans – pastoral environments and workers (i.e.,
shepherds, cowherds and woodcutters) and young lovers, usually doomed to be
forever apart due to some trifling, but insuperable, circumstance.
Additionally, there is always a lot of weather in these books, usually of the
inclement kind!
Gothic Romance
Invariably,
these will be set in some foreign locale – usually Italy, southern France or
Spain, but sometimes Greece, Turkey or the Middle East – and will focus on some
selfish elder relative of one of the young lovers who will intervene illegally
in the rightful inheritance of their title or estate (or both). There is
usually some document, or other talisman, which, if found, will reveal who gets
to inherit what, and this becomes the focus of the narrative. That’s basically
it. Rinse and repeat.
Along
the way, in a hark-back to Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”
(1606), the evil relative will sometimes receive supernatural visitations,
or visions, which will try their conscience, or threaten to expose them; the
hero will end up imprisoned in an oubliette,
or some other despicable place; and the heroine will become lost in a forest,
before during and after which she will bathe her pillow in tears at regular
intervals (Ann Radcliffe’s heroines were always doing this).
The
narrative will be sidelined regularly by second-string characters who show up
to tell a tale of things that they have experienced, or just heard about at second-hand,
and – if you’re lucky – this will have some relevance to the over-arching plot.
These secondary narratives are sometimes more interesting than the main story
although they often seem to take place simply to pad out the action. These
sub-plots will sometimes contain well-known tropes or characters, such as:
·
The Wandering Jew – a miserly figure from the Middle Ages
doomed to wander the Earth because he is too selfish for Heaven and too wicked
for Hell (usually it involves him having found some way to cheat the Devil and
deny him his soul);
·
The Bleeding Nun – The ghost of a murdered holy woman who
appears to presage some horrible event, usually a treacherous murder. She is
sometimes the spirit of a young woman who disguised herself as a nun so as to
be able to meet her lover; sometimes a nun who tried to facilitate the
elopement, or other general getting-together, of young lovers and who was
killed for her efforts; or sometimes the ghost of a holy woman who tried to act
as the conscience of some wicked upper-class twit (and who was murdered for
speaking up).
Lots
of these stories were written from the late 1700s through to the end of the
Victorian era and most of them are rubbish. The notable ones are Ann
Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794),
Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto
(1764) and Matthew Lewis’s The Monk (1796)
(which was written during a ten-week alcoholic bender and delivered, bloody and
vomitous, to the publisher). Walpole’s Otranto
is considered by many to be actually a spoof of the form despite it appearing
so early in the canon, but that doesn’t lessen its appeal. An actual spoof which is a brilliant
example of the form while simultaneously skewering the genre is Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey (1817).
Gothic Horror
Gothic
Horror takes all of the foregoing and ramps up the supernatural elements to 11.
As before, there are usually young lovers denied consummation and large tracts
of bosky wilderness; however, central to the horror of the story is the notion
of an inversion of the natural order (this is, in itself, a supernatural, or
pseudo-scientific, version of the older relative not allowing the legal
inheritance process to take its proper course). Again, the roots of this trope
go all the way back to Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”.
Hence, in Dracula (1897), the vampire
is an unnatural perversion flouting God’s law; while in Frankenstein (1818), the characters’ woes stem from the fact that
Victor Frankenstein finds a way to create life, something that only God should
be able to do. Even Dr. Jekyll & Mr.
Hyde has this notion of tampering with the natural order of things at its
core.
In
Gothic Horror, the stakes are essentially raised. Rather than just the
happiness of two besotted nincompoops, the fate of empires – even the world –
rests upon the elimination of the unnatural cause of the horrific events. If
Dracula is allowed to run amok, the world gets overrun with vampires; if Victor
Frankenstein’s formula is published, the world gets saturated with stitched-together
abominations; if the Beetle isn’t stopped from leaving London, many more young
white women will get incinerated as sacrifices to its ancient gods.
·
Fallen Women – central to Victorian Gothic Horror is
the idea of the woman who – through no fault of her own – is cast beyond the
pale into social unacceptability. These women are usually the heroines of these
tales, forced by circumstances to excuse themselves from polite society – Mina
Harker is the classic version of this trope. By having the heroes side with
her, regardless of the social stigma that they adopt by doing so, they prove
themselves to be noble protectors in the Arthurian mould, something that was
very big back then. There was also a frisson
of risqué naughtiness inherent in them
doing this – like being seen with a prostitute – that lent these stories an
added level of excitement for the readers.
As
with Gothic Romance, there are lots of titles to choose from, some good, some
bad. Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla (1871)
is a vampire novella which helped inspire Dracula;
Bram Stoker’s vampire novel was the sleeper in the year of its publication,
beaten out by Richard Marsh’s The Beetle (1897),
which was the 50 Shades of Grey of
its day (but not crap). Victorian Gothic Horror becomes increasingly more
urban, springboarding off the crimes that were starting to take place within
those environments: Gaston Leroux’s The
Phantom of the Opera (1911) plays upon the notion of a predacious mentor
along the lines of Trilby (1895) by
George du Maurier; Robert Louis Stevenson’s
The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886) plays off the prevalent horrors of the medical dissection of dead
bodies; Edgar Allan Poe’s The Murders in
the rue Morgue (1841) takes Gothic Horror and creates the prototype of the
crime novel from the formula.
Thus,
Gothic Horror paves the way for the Weird Fiction genre of the Edwardian era
into the 1940s, itself the precursor to Science Fiction and Fantasy writing.
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