Many moons ago (er, last fall)... I signed up for the always fun annual R.eaders I.mbibing P.eril (RIP) Challenge. The selected book for the readalong was The Quick by Lauren Owen and since I typically am amazing at signing up for challenges, but horrible in completing them, I surprised myself when I started the book and then COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN. I did succeed in my usual pattern, however, by inadvertently forgetting to post a final review about it, so my apologies to the wonderful Estella Society. I will do much better this year! (I've gotten into a bad habit of not posting as frequently as I used to because of the events in this post; but Thank God, I am all good now.)

I chose to participate in this group read because of one important detail that was included in the intro. "For fans of The Historian and The Night Circus." Yep, I was in. Elizabeth Kostova's The Historian will always be one of my favorite books, and I've read it twice in the past ten years, even hosting a group readalong at On the Ledge Readalongs. The Historian was such a visual experience, incorporating overseas locations and unique meals with an unnamed narrator, that it launched my own interest in researching and posting pictures relevant to the pages our group read together. That was a ride of an adventure that I am always looking to replicate with another story.

Since it's been a few months since I read it, I'm opting to go with the below Goodreads synopsis so I don't miss out on anything, or give away too much.

London, 1892: James Norbury, a shy would-be poet newly down from Oxford, finds lodging with a charming young aristocrat. Through this new friendship, he is introduced to the drawing-rooms of high society, and finds love in an unexpected quarter. Then, suddenly, he vanishes without a trace. Unnerved, his sister, Charlotte, sets out from their crumbling country estate determined to find him. In the sinister, labyrinthine city that greets her, she uncovers a secret world at the margins populated by unforgettable characters: a female rope walker turned vigilante, a street urchin with a deadly secret, and the chilling “Doctor Knife.” But the answer to her brother’s disappearance ultimately lies within the doors of one of the country’s preeminent and mysterious institutions: The Aegolius Club, whose members include the most ambitious, and most dangerous, men in England.

While The Quick was much more action-packed than The Historian, the setting and the atmosphere, was equally intense, creating an eerie and contemplative feel that I so appreciate in Victorian/Gothic tales. I loved it. The characters and overall quest fit snugly into the category of Victorian horror and Owen's debut creatively demonstrates the challenge of combining present events with the epistolary genre of letters and diary entries into a distinctly peculiar and thoughtful story of unexpected love, loyalty, and of course, vampires. This was an absolutely fantastic story. The key to it are the characters, who fit a range of the unexpected and curiously hopeful, banded together for the ultimate goal. This is a wonderful story filled with secrets and turns, and one that is perfect for you to put on the list of creepy tales to keep close on cold winter nights. I'm eagerly awaiting the next work from Lauren Owen.

Just as a side note: The Quick was also ranked as one of the best books of the year by Slate.

Here's the original button that The Estella Society created. My apologies to them again that I didn't participate like I intended! But, I did read the book, loved it and will try much harder for the next RIP Challenge!

About the Author (from Goodreads)

Lauren Owen studied English Literature at St. Hilda's College, Oxford, before completing an MA in Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia, where she received the 2009 Curtis Brown prize for the best fiction dissertation. The Quick is her first novel. She lives in Durham, England.

Visit the author:

• On Twitter
• On Goodreads
• On Penguin UK's author page

Oh, this held so much promise. I wanted to swoon, wanted to love this Gothic fantasy, a dark, and supernatural tale set in the 1800s. After all, this is the type of book I like to read during the cooler months, especially for Carl's RIP celebration. Unfortunately, this just didn't work for me, but McOmber's writing is so beautiful, I do plan to pick up his next book.

Set in the 1800s in England, Jane Silverlake's friend, Nathan, has disappeared under questionable circumstances, last seen with a cult led by a local mystic named Ariston Day. Jane's never had friends, and when she was young, she was fairly sequestered with an absent father and cold servants, destined to walk the heath and the grounds, until she met a spirited and independent young woman named Madeleine. Maddy and Jane became fast friends with Nathan, and their bond strengthened as they grew older, and soon Jane is comfortable to share her gift, one she always felt was a curse. Jane has the ability to feel, see, and hear the souls of objects that are man-made, which can be overwhelming in certain urban situations, but is hushed by nature. This gift simultaneously intrigues Nathan and horrifies Maddy, and Nathan's urge to learn more sets him on a path to potential destruction when he gets involved with Ariston Day's cult, resulting in his startling disappearance. Jane and Maddy begin their own investigation for Nathan, desperate to find him before he is hurt or worse, but the time to locate Nathan and save Jane from Ariston Day's threats becomes a rush of secret meetings, hidden journals, broken hearts, and supernatural elements.

The time period is represented incredibly well and, at times, it read as though it was written during the 1800s, which was refreshing. The White Forest contains such a delightfully eerie atmosphere and unique premise and setting, evocative descriptions and moments, that I was immediately pulled in. Sadly, several elements felt out of place for me, more so towards the latter half of the book, and I ended up quickly rushing through the last sixty pages. McOmber also inserts multiple flashbacks into the "current" narrative and within the same paragraph, which, without some break, became confusing. I wish a line break had been included to delineate easily for the eyes that the event occurred in the past. I wound up spending a good bit of time during all of the flashbacks reminding myself that it happened before Nathan's disappearance.

I also don't need to like a main character, or any character (i.e. Gone Girl) for me to love a book. Jane especially disappointed me and her excuse for why she treated her servants horribly seemed more of a hasty afterthought. Let me clarify: Her servants were so afraid of her, that as a child, Jane was kept locked in a room for hours at a time. It wouldn't bother me one bit if Jane treated them badly, but the explanation of the locked room seemed a last-minute insertion. The one remaining servant was absolutely terrified of Jane, so the biting comments came across as Jane being privileged and snooty, which was how she seemed most of the time. I can't share detailed thoughts on Nathan or Maddy since it might give events away, so suffice it to say it was frustrating Jane liked them at all. This book started off so wonderfully, but tapered off into a disjointed and distant story. The annoyance for the characters, jarring flashbacks and a bizarre ending, left me off kilter. My usual willing suspension of disbelief just didn't take over this time.

Just remember this...

I am only one reader in the vast sea of reading enthusiasts. If this book sounds interesting to you, I would encourage you to pick it up. No two readers are alike. The premise is unique, the writing beautiful, and if you want to see positive reviews, check out Barnes and Noble, Goodreads, and LibraryThing; there are more than enough examples of reviews by other readers who love this eloquent tale.

As I mentioned at the top of this post, because McOmber's writing is so especially beautiful, I will definitely pick up his next book. Check out the passage below.

Passage of Note

I can see the two of us on the day we journeyed toward Mother Damnable's cottage. We were like figures in an oil painting, nearly devoured by the blackish greens and golds of the Heath. The rolling landscape fell away toward the south where a smoky brown fog hung over London. I held my wrap against the chill breeze, following Nathan's sharp and sturdy figure along the sandy path through the fallow. The Heath was rife with brake ferns, furze, and ugly dwarf trees. Neither Hampstead Town nor St. Pancras was visible, and I felt adrift in the silence of nature. There were no objects - no clamor. Such absence should have provided solace, but instead I found it disturbing. (p.150)

Others said:

If I've missed your review, let me know and I will link to it here.

Publisher: Touchstone, a division of Simon & Schuster

Release Date: 9/11/12

Pages: 303

FTC Disclosure: I checked this book out of my local Virginia Beach public library.

About the Author

Adam McOmber teaches creative writing at Columbia College Chicago and is the associate editor of the literary magazine Hotel Amerika. Stories from his collection This New & Poisonous Air have been nominated for two 2012 Pushcart Prizes.

Visit the author:

• On his website

This is another selection for Carl's RIP VII celebration. For other participants' reviews, please click here.

Do yourself a favor. Download this audiobook and enjoy a double dose of Gothic atmosphere, delivered by the winning combination of the eerie writing by phenomenal author Daphne du Maurier, and narrated by the accomplished actor Jonathan Pryce. You won't regret it. Click here to listen to the audio sample.

Philip Ashley, a young man just around the corner from turning twenty-five, has lost the one person in his life who was his only family. Ambrose, his older cousin and guardian, passed away while in Italy and Philip is now grief-stricken and confused. After all, how could Ambrose, a man who professed to be more suited to a life of solitude, fallen in love and gotten married? Who is the woman? With jealousy and fear, combined with paranoia, this Gothic novel satisfied every need for an unsettling tale as the air continues to get much cooler this autumn.

Rachel, a cousin of Philip's from a distant line, was Ambrose's wife and the subject of many a letter from Ambrose to Philip during the time he spent away from the estate in England. While the letters initially express love, later letters describe something quite different about Rachel, ominous, deceptive, and perhaps even dangerous. Should Philip trust Ambrose's letters, which may have been written at the height of his illness, or should Philip instead believe that Rachel is a good and decent woman, who was very much in love with Philip's uncle?

I read Rebecca by Du Maurier last year for the first time and promised myself I would read more of her work. Suspenseful and haunting, Du Maurier's work continues at a slow, yet consistent pace, building to those peak moments that reveal startling sadness and events that require you to read slowly, to appreciate, or rather to savor, each word. With Jonathan Pryce's rich and warm voice expertly narrating events, I was easily hooked to this Gothic tale of love, deception, and misunderstandings, all set on a sprawling estate that will immediately pass to Philip once he reaches his twenty-fifth birthday.

Remember this about Du Maurier: She is not a romance author. I was ignorant for years about this, and shunned reading her work. However, I instead found she is quite the master of suspense and storytelling, and while she dapples in love, it's nothing like what people thinks she writes. (I blame it on that ghastly, albeit memorable, red cover.)

Du Maurier always maintains the unreliable narrator, the main character frustratingly naive. In My Cousin Rachel, Philip is so annoyingly innocent about women that I wanted to slap him. How could he be so blind? How could he so stupidly trust the wrong people? But, Du Maurier trips you again, because even as I wanted to yell at Philip, I started to feel unsettled, questioning whether or not he was right, and I, the all-knowing reader, was somehow wrong...  Philip certainly has led his life similarly to Ambrose's, sequestered and unsociable, his friends limited to the few who are the children of those who have provided a service to the Ashley estate, so there shouldn't be a surprise to how he reacts when he first meets Rachel, and subsequently gets to know her better. The confusion he feels, the emotions he falls victim to! Argh! You might utter proclamations of annoyance, you might throw your hands up in the air! You might. I did. But, as I do with most Gothic installments in my reading background, I enjoyed every moment.

This journey the reader experiences is key to My Cousin Rachel and to Du Maurier's signature style, so mind your patience, as the story is a good one and worth it to experience.

At the risk of sounding abject, I would also suggest this could be the "prequel" to Rebecca, granted with a few characters moved around. With a little research, I found I'm not the only one who compares both of these books as they have extremely similar images and settings, and it is of course, acutely atmospheric. Du Maurier tends to love her wealthy and affluent main characters, recluses living by the cold and rainy coastline who don't have much experience in the ways of love or business. And I enjoy it every single time. The Gothic nature of this story satisfied me to no end. Jonathan Pryce is superb and will not disappoint; I certainly will continue to eagerly download his work in the future.

Audio Notes: This was my first time listening to Jonathan Pryce, and as I've already mentioned, he is undeniably a master of delivering this story. With a voice quiet and haunting, Pryce narrates Philip's innocence and frustration, his helplessness and desire for more, so well that I found I made yet another excuse for more and more errands to do, places to go, just so I could continue to listen to the story. Pryce successfully captured each character distinctly, without confusion, and I'm happy to listen to him again.

Publisher: AudioGO Ltd.

Audio Time: 11 hours, 55 minutes

Release Date: 10/1/07

Narrator: Jonathan Pryce

Others said:
Avid Reader's Musings
Book Chatter
JoV's Book Pyramid
Just Book Reading
Savidge Reads
She Reads Novels

FTC Disclosure: I purchased this audiobook from Audible.com

About the Author

Daphne du Maurier was a British author and playwright, known for Rebecca, My Cousin Rachel, Jamaica Inn, Frenchman's Creek, and hundreds of short stories including the collection Daphne du Maurier's Classics of the Macabre, which feature The Birds, The Blue Lenses, and Don't Look Now. She was born in 1907 and passed in 1989. Her stories have been adapted for films, most memorably by Alfred Hitchcock for both The Birds and Don't Look Now.

For a full bio of this incredible author, please click here.

About the Narrator

Jonathan Pryce is an accomplished Welsh actor of both the film and stage, with a career spanning forty years. Most known for several outstanding acting pursuits in both England and the United States, including his Academy-award winning portrayal of The Engineer in Miss Saigon, Jonathan Pryce is also a popular audiobook narrator. Click here to review available selections on Audible.com.





This is another selection for Carl's RIP event. For other participants' reviews, please click here.

Settling down one night, Arthur Kipps is pressured to share a ghost story with his young family. Amidst the crackling of the fire and the quiet cold of the night, Arthur refuses, as his imagination cannot conjure up anything that would be more frightening than his own experience, and for that, he will not share that story with his children. But it's one that still haunts him and he decides to record it to hopefully lift the burden of the most terrifying experience of his life.

Susan Hill's gothic ghost story is beautifully told and, to be honest, eerily fun. As Arthur writes his story of a time when he was a new lawyer trying to get his feet wet and impress his boss, he is assigned the task of closing up the estate of a woman who has just passed away in the mysterious and quiet town of Crythin Gifford. The house sits alone and hidden within the marshes and fog, and Arthur stays on at the house, reviewing papers and documents and discarding anything that is unnecessary to maintain. It's the haunting and recurring visitations of children and a woman in black that frighten him beyond anything he's ever imagined. When he realizes that even the town is aware of these fearful presences, he begins to question everything around him.

A delightfully creepy story that satisfied all around and I'm eager for more from Susan Hill. My only complaint was that I wish I had waited until this year's RIP Challenge to listen to it so I could benefit from the full ghost story experience. The cooler months around Halloween provide a much more suitable atmosphere for me, and I feel the fear of these stories even more so. But, that's not a complaint against the story at all, just on my own lack of timing!

Audio Notes: At just a little over four hours, Paul Andsell delivered a solid performance that kept me fixed and attentive. His voice was extremely effective to narrate the emotional and frightening roller coaster ride that the character was experiencing, and I'll certainly be eager to listen to more from him in future audio books.

Others said:
The Avid Reader's Musings
Book Group of One
Buttery Books
Chrisbookarama
Just Book Reading
Leighanne's Lit
Psychotic State
Things Mean A Lot

Publisher: Long Barn Books, Blackstone Audio
Release Date: 10/31/2006
Audio Time: 4 hours, 36 minutes
Narrator: Paul Andsell

About the Author

Susan Hill is an English author of fiction and non-fiction books. Her novels include The Woman in Black, The Mist in the Mirror, and I'm the King of the Castle, for which she received the Somerset Maugham Award in 1971.

Follow the author:

• On her website
• On Twitter

This is another selection for the 2012 Audio Book Challenge hosted by Teresa.











FTC Disclosure: I purchased this book on Audible.com

Were it not for a 1973 book by Michael Lesy entitled Wisconsin Death Trip, which showcased news reports and a collection of photographs that depicted the harsh Midwestern landscape and some of its residents who suffered mental illness, crime, and the claustrophobic effects of a winter that seems like it might never end, Robert Goolrick would never have found the inspiration to create a fictitious story of life in the frigid Wisconsin winter. I'll need to research Michael Lesy's book since it's clearly been influential for many. Not only has Wisconsin Death Trip been adapted into a film, there is also an album, and one of Stephen King's short stories, 1922, from the collection "Full Dark, No Stars" was also influenced by it.

It is 1907 and Catherine has arrived to Truitt, Wisconsin to marry Ralph Truitt, the namesake of the town and the man who owns everything in it. Everyone in the town works for him, and making money is both his work and his livelihood. He has no family to remember anymore, and Catherine is the start of a new life for him.

She will be his second wife, a wife he selected from hundreds of responses to an advertisement he placed in the paper. He's lived the past twenty years alone with regret, but he's always wanted a life like everyone else, a simple one in which he wakes up with a woman he loves and who loves him, and goes to sleep with her at night after making love. But this wish of a simple life may never be possible. He grew up with a religious fanatic who tormented him to show him what hell was like and he ended up marrying a woman who he caught cheating. He threw her out but kept their son, and beat him every day until he ran away.

Unbeknownst to him, Catherine isn't the innocent she's claimed to be. She brings a terrifying plan and secret that will ultimately put their arranged marriage to the ultimate challenge. While all of them are deplorable characters initially, it soon becomes clear that they are all just a product of their own difficult childhood. They've just made a sad mess of their adult lives.

At once quiet and thoughtful, exploring a different time and world, it is also loud, torrid and passionate. Frantic in its excesses of scene after scene of sex, it could be considered cheap and tasteless, the moments literally throbbing off the page with descriptions to make you blush. Instead, it provided harsh contrast to the quiet and brutal life in the wintery Midwest. Like the winter, sex is an important and symbolic part of the story. The primal passion ties Ralph's old life to his new one and while it could become tedious at times, I felt it made sense for the story's evolution.

What Robert Goolrick is trying to paint in this novel that was inspired by Wisconsin Death Trip (and I believe he succeeds) is the picture that life was extremely hard for those who suffered the Midwest winters over a hundred years ago, and that while horrible things happened, it was just part of life. The old adage of "it is what it is" seems appropriate. These tiny towns in America may have been unheard of on a map, but they carried the same tragedies as the big cities, and yet approached it with an almost quiet and clinical detachment. One spouse commits infidelity, another is murdered, and yet another family experiences a suicide. It is what it is. Funerals are attended, newspapers relay more horror, and the next day the town has yet another sad event to focus on.

For some, normal lives turned to nightmare. They starved to death in the horrible winters. They removed themselves from society and lived alone in ramshackle huts in the woods. They were found drooling and naked and were committed to the insane asylum at Mendota where they were wrapped in icy sheets and lashed with electrical currents until they could be restored to sanity and quietude. These things happened.

People either love or hate this book. I've found that when people hate it, it tends to be for one of two things (or both), which I can understand: Too much sex or choppy sentences. The argument for both is there since I thought there was a whole heck of a lot of intimacy described with everyone, but I never thought it was too much. The choppy sentences also were there, but I didn't find it troubling. In fact, there are several sections that are choppy, but actually blend fluidly. Here's an example of it, which I think works well:

They laughed. They spoke quietly, out of respect for what they know to be Ralph Truitt's failure. The train was late. They felt the snow in the air. They knew the blizzard would soon begin. Just as there was a day every spring when the women of the town, as though by some secret signal, appeared in their summer dresses before the first heat was felt, there was as well a day when winter showed the knife before the first laceration.

It's choppy, I know, but something about it resonates, particularly the comparison of when you first feel winter coming with "the knife before the first laceration."

With a marriage built on lies starting anew in a town that quietly accepts tragedy, A Reliable Wife is the stark and beautifully written story of life at the turn of the twentieth century. Taking the reader through Wisconsin and the seedy nightlife of St. Louis, Robert Goolrick's tale of two people and their hope for love, is haunting and compelling. I appreciated the writing and look forward to more from Robert Goolrick. I would recommend this in the printed version versus the audiobook, simply due to the sex. If you do listen to it, just remember to listen with your headphones on, or keep the windows up if you're in the car.

Fans of Patrick McGrath's modern Gothic stories, particularly Asylum, will like A Reliable Wife.

About the Author

Click here to visit the author on his website.
Click here to visit the author on Facebook.

This is my final selection for the RIP Challenge. You can read more RIP reviews from other participants by clicking here.

I participated in the RIP Readalong and this is the final week of our discussion. As this post will contain spoilers in the Q&A section for those who have not read it, the opening paragraph below will be safe to read as it is an overview of the story, along with my initial thoughts and recommendations.

The premise of the story is told through alternating voices of two women on a small farm in Provence, the South of France, but in different times. In one, Bénédicte, shares her secrets and perspective of her life beginning in her child of the 1930s/1940s and in the other is Eve, our primary narrator in contemporary times who is a recent resident, moving in with her mysterious boyfriend Dom. A beautifully evocative story, previously mentioned that it has  been compared to Rebecca. After finishing The Lantern earlier today, I agree. There are mysteries within secrets, a beautiful home in a lush landscape, a love story that could be sinister, and more. At the height of this new love with Dom, they begin a life together in the summer, but when the weather changes, the hidden stories of Dom's previous life make Eve more curious, and the secret treasures found in the house don't convey the same sense of joy for her that she first felt when uncovering them before. There's more to the house, the previous tenants, and there's most assuredly something more with Dom, and Eve may not be comfortable with the truth.

A beautiful story, highly recommended to all who enjoy a story with atmosphere, mystery, and a Gothic tale. Fans of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, and The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova will enjoy this story. I look forward to more from this author.

Question & Answer

1. Now that it's all said and done, what did you think of the book? Did you see the ending coming?

-- I really did enjoy this book. It had all of the elements that I love about a book: a Gothic tale, heightened atmospheric setting in the South of France, beautifully described scents and images, and characters that had quite the stories to tell. While I didn't see the ending coming, I did initially suspect that there was something medically related to the story, but I instead felt that perhaps Eve had some form of a split personality and Bénédicte was one manifestation. After all, we know her name only as Eve, but we know it's not her real name, so couldn't that have been another personality? Or perhaps this name was chosen as some form of a Biblical clue, that Eve is telling us all lies and leading us down the wrong path. Part of me thinks I could argue it is a possibility, but I'm comfortable with the more grounded in reality ending of two separate people in different decades that intertwine with each other because of one house.

2. What did you think of the characters? Lawrenson took us on a twisty little ride there, I had trouble deciding who was good and who wasn't for a while! What do you think of Dom? Of Sabine? Rachel?

Surprisingly, the characters all end up exactly as we are initially introduced to them. While Dom's secrets are explained away, I still found him to be a bit mysterious and didn't trust the story all the way through. But I kept thinking that Eve gave us all of the facts for everything else, why couldn't she have provided us the evidence that Rachel really did die in that clinic? Somewhat odd, right? Rachel seemed to be a snake, but that was only if I believe Dom, and again, Eve never shared anything concrete that was proven that Rachel did die in the clinic (unless I missed an entire page or something...?) I still didn't like Sabine and thought she was someone who shouldn't be trusted. She's so shady with her interactions with Eve and I know that most of it is because Sabine may not have trusted Eve either, but still. I didn't like her that much in the end.

3. Pierre was such a conflicted character. In the end, do you think he killed Marthe and Annette, or did they fall to their deaths because of their blindness?

Oh, Pierre, that disgusting character. While I initially thought that Bénédicte killed Annette and Marthe and that would be the surprising twist, I completely believe after closing the final pages that Pierre was a sick man his whole life, brutally attacked Annette, and then killed her and Marthe. No doubt in my mind. Pierre was a beast of filth and in my reader's hope for revenge, I wished he met a much more appropriate passing than the seemingly easy one he ultimately experienced.

4. The book is being compared to Rebecca and Daphne du Maurier's writing. Do you think the book lives up to that description?

This is my only gripe, and it is minor. Perhaps it is because I read Rebecca so very recently a few weeks ago, that I didn't always care for the exact mentions of Du Maurier throughout The Lantern. I instead, preferred when Eve would allude to Du Maurier with similarities, but when one specific chapter started out with the exact opening of a Du Maurier short story, I was a little annoyed by it. (I'm referencing a chapter when the first sentence is Dom telling Eve "Don't look now," which is  also the title and opening sentence of Du Maurier's short story. Maybe I wouldn't have minded it as much if I had read Rebecca years ago and then read The Lantern now.

5. Did you have any problems with the book? Narration? Plot? The back and forth between two different characters and times?

I didn't mind the alternating perspectives of the two women or the plot. I enjoyed all of it quite a bit.

6. Do you think Lawrenson tied both stories together well in the end? Is there anything she could/should have done differently?

I do think both stories were tied well together, and the only thing I would have wished for more of were Rachel's articles, or maybe a few letters or newspaper clippings. I think the addition of more of that would have heightened the atmosphere and overall Gothic feel of the novel quite a bit. Ultimately though, I was satisfied with this story and thoroughly enjoyed it.

7. One problem I had with the novel was the reliability of the narrators. Do you think any of them were telling the truth? Which ones?

I actually didn't mind this. It lent to the overall uneasiness of the mysteries and ambiguity of the characters, which is part of the reason why I love these types of stories. More, please!

About the Author (from the book)

Deborah Lawrenson spent her formative years moving around the world with diplomatic service parents, living in Kuwait, China, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Singapore. She studied English at Cambridge University, and has worked as a journalist for various publications in England, including the Daily Mail, the Mail on Sunday, and Woman's Journal magazine. She is married, with a daughter, and lives in Kent, England. She and her family spend as much time as possible at a crumbling hamlet in Provence, France, the setting for The Lantern.

The Lantern is her first novel to be published in the United States.

Click here to visit the author on her website.

Click here to visit the author on her blog.

Click here to visit the author on Facebook.

This is the final discussion installment for Peril of the Group Read. Click here to see other thoughts for the book.

I always put off reading this story because I thought it was a romance. Granted, I based this solely off the book cover, so imagine my delight as I got older and heard that it was instead, decidedly Gothic and creepy.

The entire story is told through a flashback of events that occurred when the unnamed narrator is a hired companion for Mrs. Van Hopper, a gossipy brute of a woman. While traveling through Monte Carlo, they meet Maxim de Winter, whose story is one that Mrs. Van Hopper willingly offers up. Maxim's recent loss of his first wife Rebecca is a sad fate, and as the young narrator spends more time with him, they decide within only a few weeks that they will get married and move to his estate, entitled Manderley.

But upon arriving to Maxim's estate, it becomes quite a different experience than she anticipated. The mansion is huge, with a full staff to keep up the house and grounds, and the ever-present ghost of the beautiful, social, and popular Rebecca is behind everything that is desirable about Manderley, and even the parties she's hosted are still talked about. But not only is she a part of Manderley's past, she is very much a part of a creepy and sinister presence about the house. Rebecca is everywhere that the new bride finds herself in - from the beautiful landscape of the grounds, the cove where Rebecca lost her life, the little cottage down by the sea that she used to rest in after she would go sailing. Rebecca is everywhere, and the new Mrs. De Winter, meek, quiet, and shy, cannot keep up. Even the housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers is cold and intimidating, harboring secrets that make the new bride fearful. She knows she is being compared by the housekeeper, the visitors to the house on their social calls, and she can't quite help feeling like even Maxim is doing the same, ultimately wondering if he is contemplating if he made the right choice to marry her.

I loved this story. I've read Du Maurier's short stories last year and enjoyed them, but this struck me much more than anything else and was much, much creepier. It is beautiful and dark and perfect for autumn. I absolutely recommend this story, and offer you up the introduction...

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while, I could not enter, for the way was barred to me. There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate. I called in my dream to the lodge-keeper, and had no answer, and peering closer through the rusted spokes of the gate I saw that the lodge was uninhabited.

No smoke came from the chimney, and the little lattice windows gaped forlorn. Then, like all dreamers, I was possessed of a sudden with supernatural powers and passed like a spirit through the barrier before me. The drive wound away in front of me, twisting and turning as it had always done, but as I advanced I was aware that a change had come upon it; it was narrow and unkept, not the drive that we had known. At first I was puzzled and did not understand, and it was only when I bent my head to avoid the low swinging branch of a tree that I realised what had happened.

This is my third selection for the RIP VI Challenge hosted by Carl at Stainless Steel Droppings. I plan to watch the film adaptation soon for the challenge as well. You can read more RIP reviews from other participants by clicking here.

Did you know? Apparently, the author of The Woman in Black by Susan Hill (the film is soon to be released with Daniel Radcliffe in the lead!) wrote the sequel to Rebecca, entitled Mrs. De Winter. It was published in 1994, and reviews across Amazon and Barnes and Noble are varied. Have you read it?




About the Author

Daphne du Maurier was a British author and playwright, and was born in 1907 and passed in 1989. Her stories have been adapted for films, including The Birds and Don't Look Now, both done by Alfred Hitchcock.

For a full bio of this incredible author, please click here. There are absolutely beautiful pictures of the author on that site, and it's clear that there will always be an established following of Daphne du Maurier.

My first introduction to Kate Morton's writing was The House at Riverton. A Gothic tale, told within multiple timelines, and secrets galore, The Distant Hours is no different in that respect.

However, I should start this post by asking you a question: When you were a kid, what was the story that grabbed you? Held you speechless as you turned each page and introduced you to the world of imagination and possibility?

I can think of a few titles that capture this feeling for me, but for Edie in The Distant Hours, there will only ever be one. It is a celebrated classic, one that is a horror story of monumental proportions, but is simultaneously literary. The Mud Man, by Richard Blythe, a tale of horror, intrigue, and disturbing events that shake a young mind to their bones - this is the story that made Edie fall in love with books.

As an adult, she now works in the publishing industry and has a somewhat strained relationship with her parents in which not much is shared about their young lives. Disjointed this may be, Edie is aware that when her mother was a child, she was one of the many evacuees in England during World War II, and was the only one safely stationed at Milderhurst Castle. Already a Gothic and mysterious home it is even more so filled with secrets since this was the home of the very author of The Mud Man. Edie was always curious about her mother's relationship to this castle and the family, and while on a business trip, she decides to take a slight detour and visit the famous castle. While there, she meets the three daughters of Raymond Blythe, now much older while on a tour of the house, and is invited back much later to write the introduction for the release of a new edition of their father's famous story.

Back and forth between the 1930s and the 1990s, and told from different characters' perspectives, this is simply haunting and Gothic, through and through. Where did the story of The Mud Man truly come from? Why is the oldest sister, Percy, so gruff and cold? Why is the youngest, Juniper,  still waiting for her fiancé, even though it's been over fifty years? And what really was their relationship with Edie's mother?

Once again, as with The House at Riverton, I find I'm always mesmerized with the mystery, the characters, their sadness, and their regrets. The story is creepy and detailed, and while I thought the end was a bit too nicely wrapped up for this eloquently haunting story, I was absolutely satisfied yet again with Kate Morton's work. I look forward to downloading another audiobook from her, and Caroline Lee as the narrator was extremely impressive. My first time listening to her voice, and I look forward to more.

About the Author

Kate Morton, a native Australian, holds degrees in dramatic art and English literature. She lives with her family in Brisbane, Australia. She is the author of The House at Riverton, The Fogotten Garden, and The Distant Hours.

Click here to visit the author on her website.

Click here to visit the author on Facebook.

Who else read it? (Or listened?)
You've Gotta Read This (audio review)
The Blue Bookcase
Kittling: Books

I planned on reading the extremely short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman for months now because of the positive reactions from other respected bloggers. I downloaded it onto my Nook, and once I read The Victorian Chaise-Longue by Marghanita Laski, I knew that The Yellow Wallpaper had to be next. But I took my time, and when Chrisbookarama peer-pressured recently urged others to read it, I thought, "Seriously, it's only fifteen pages, what have I been waiting for?"

I read it in a flash last night. And was sufficiently freaked out.

An unreliable narrator is married to John, a doctor, and they have a baby. Recently, they've moved to a small rental home and while she would prefer that she and her husband take a downstairs room that is pretty and airy, her husband decides that the upstairs room is the one they should stay in. Considering he prescribed rest to cure her from her recent ills (postpartum depression), it seems extremely bizarre that he should select the room for her daily containment to be one that was once a children's nursery, has ripped and aging wallpaper in it that is a ghastly yellow, and the windows have bars on them. When she begins to see the wallpaper moving and then starts to see a woman trapped in the wallpaper trying to get out, she does everything she can to figure it out and to help the woman escape. But it slowly becomes a murky undertaking for the reader to decipher what is real and what isn't. Is something sinister truly happening, or is it madness? Which is more frightening?

It doesn't help that her husband and sister-in-law are skeptical of our narrator's health, but then are seen scowling at the wallpaper. At least, this is again according to the narrator as she writes her thoughts in her journal... so who to believe?

Written in the first person, Charlotte Perkins Gilman has easily mastered the craft of a creepy and haunting story with frighteningly vivid descriptions, and has also successfully preyed upon a reader's eagerness and natural inclination to believe that the narrator is always right. When that is questioned in any way, it becomes uncomfortable and harrowing. With whom should you place your trust?

Those who enjoyed The Victorian Chaise-Longue by Marghanita Laski will enjoy this short story.

Favorite passages from The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman:

You see, he does not believe I am sick! And what can one do? If a physician of high standing, and one's own husband, assures friends and relatives that there is really nothing the matter with one but temporary nervous depression - a slight hysterical tendency-what is one to do? 

_____________________ 

There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous. And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit. 

_____________________

The History I Should Know More About

(Generally gathered from Wikipedia, The Science Museum of the UK, and The Literature Network)

Silas Weir Mitchell, creator of the "rest cure," was an American neurologist. The rest cure was a treatment for hysteria and other nervous conditions, including neurasthenia, which Charlotte Perkins Gilman "suffered" from. Although it is no longer included as a diagnosis today, at one time (mid 1800s) neurasthenia was identified as a condition associated with "fatigue, anxiety, headache, neuralgia, and depressed mood." 

The "rest cure" was a common prescription for women more so than men during the Victorian era. Charlotte Perkins Gilman and even Virginia Woolf were advised to use the rest cure, and Perkins Gilman's interaction with institutions and doctors at that time contributed to the creation of this phenomenal story. 

Want to read more? Click here for The Science Museum (UK) and the University of Virginia has additional information that questions the negative perception he received after Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story became popular in the 1970s.

_____________________

About the Author

(Wikipedia) Charlotte Perkins Gilman was a prominent American sociologist, novelist, writer of short stories, poetry, and non-fiction, and a lecturer for social reform. She was a Utopian feminist during a time when her accomplishments were exceptional for women, and she served as a role model for future generations of feminists because of her unorthodox concepts and lifestyle.

After the birth of her first child, she had a nervous breakdown and was prescribed the "rest cure," in which she was advised to not write at all during this period. This exposure and treatment contributed to her writing The Yellow Wallpaper.

Want to read more? Click here for more biographical information and click here for a list of her work (she is also known for Herland). Click here for the BBC dramatization of her life. I haven't seen it, although it sounds interesting.

Note to me... I have finally contributed to two challenges. The E-book Challenge hosted by Ladybug Reads and the Victorian Literature Challenge hosted by Subtle Melodrama (words, words, words).

Time travel. Fear. Confusion. Could I be describing the premise of a contemporary novel flying off bookshelves faster than Amazon sales rankings can keep up with? Perhaps.

Or, these could be a few words to describe the sixth out of the 93 Persephone Books reprinted thus far, (an independent publisher in England that reprints neglected classics by mostly 20th century women). The Victorian Chaise-Longue, by Marghanita Laski, was first published in 1953 and at only 99 pages, this tiny book is creepier and more uncomfortable than many Gothic books published today. I sat transfixed in the short time it took to read it. Eerie. Creepy. Uncomfortable.

The young wife, Melanie, suffers from tuberculosis and is confined to her room, hoping that she will survive with her doctor's help and can return to a normal life with her family, most especially with the baby she has yet to hold. When her family decides that she should move from one room to another in the house, the Victorian chair that Melanie purchased the very day she was diagnosed with tuberculosis is situated in the room. While resting upon the ugly chair, Melanie wakes up in a world almost 100 years before. Also ill with tuberculosis in this earlier time, Melanie is now surrounded not by a caring husband, but by a sister who holds a secret with her, and the clean room that she fell asleep in has now become a dirty, smelly, and unkempt room. Nothing is the same, save for the Victorian Chaise-Longue and Melanie's mind.

Can you imagine?

Then a sound, a door opening (but it took a long time to translate the noise into comprehension), and a woman said, "Well, Milly? Are you ready to wake up now?"

A common voice, a cruel voice, assured and domineering. Not a voice to be conquered with superior strength but the nightmare voice that binds the limbs in dreadful paralysis while the danger creeps and creeps and at last will leap. I am asleep, said Melanie, ordering her wakened brain to admit this and be still, her closed eyes to not see even the ugly green and scarlet and yellow patterns under too tightly pressed eyelids, and then there was heavy weighted rattle and almost simultaneously another, and consciousness of light shot through the closed lids and forced them open. (p. 24)

Descriptive and engaging, Marghanita Laski's story is one that showcases this author as a brilliant strategist, one who crafts a powerfully Gothic punch with each unsettling moment, and in the shortest amount of time. Melanie's new body is much weaker, and the sordid decor and pungent smells of the Victorian time are no dream. It is real, it is happening to her, and she cannot gather her strength to get out of this tangled mess. She is trapped in a body not her own, imprisoned within the shell of a weak and sick woman, and she is without the family that she believes she has left behind. Without question, it is a classic of monumental significance, and one that has led me to become a new fan of Persephone Books.

Happy Reading,

Natalie, the Coffee and a Book Chick

FTC Disclosure: My husband got me two Persephone books for Christmas and I meant to read them right away. I didn't and now that I've finished this one, I'm kicking myself that I waited this long. I'm currently reading the second one he gave me, Marghanita Laski's Little Boy Lost.

About the Author (from the Persephone Books website)

Marghanita Laski was born in 1915 to a family of Jewish intellectuals in London; Harold Laski, the socialist thinker, was her uncle. After working in fashion, she read English at Oxford, married John Howard, a publisher, and worked in journalism. She began writing once her son and daughter were born: among her six novels were Little Boy Lost (1949), The Village (1952) and The Victorian Chaise-Longue (1953). A well-known critic, she wrote books on Jane Austen and George Eliot. Ecstasy (1962) explored intense experiences and Everyday Ecstasy (1974) their social effects. Her distinctive voice was often heard on the radio on The Brains Trust and The Critics; and she submitted a large number of illustrative quotations to the Oxford English Dictionary. Her home was in Hampstead, where she died in 1988.

This picture is from The Guardian website, which listed The Victorian Chaise-Longue as one of the 10 Best Neglected Literary Classics.

A day(ish) late on my first weekly post! Eek.

Wallace at Unputdownables is hosting the Villette Read-a-long. Each week through March 31st, a short section of the book will be read, and a weekly write-up will be posted here and at the other participants' blogs. These posts will contain spoilers...

I was pulled in immediately. Lucy Snowe is living with her godmother, Ms. Bretton, when little six-year-old Polly arrives. Polly's a little bit of a brat and it's pretty obvious that she is downright spoiled. Temporarily staying with them since her father isn't well, she is drawn to Graham, the sixteen-year-old son of Ms. Bretton. Teasing her and treating her like a little sister, Polly becomes distressed when his attention is not on her, and almost to the point where I felt uncomfortable by her reaction, even though it seems innocent enough.

I was getting a little annoyed with Polly at this point, though.

When Polly eventually returns to her father, the focus circles back to Lucy Snowe. I was pleased about this because I didn't feel as if I knew her, even though she had been narrating the entire time.

After a few years, and distanced from Ms. Bretton, Graham, and Polly, Lucy's prospects for work are slim. She settles with an elderly, ill, and kind woman, Miss Marchmont, who shares her sad love story one night and then passes away, leaving Lucy jobless again. Yet another sad moment for Lucy as Miss Marchmont promised her the night she passed that she would do something nice for Lucy should anything happen to her, help her with finances and such - but she dies that same night, so she obviously didn't have a chance to change her will or anything! Gah! I felt horrible for Lucy. True to Lucy's character, though, she accepts her final wages and moves on without saying a word about the deathbed promise.

Lucy is again back to what looks like a sad and lonely life. And where will she work? For someone who once had a lot of money, it's an unfortunate predicament for her to be in.

Loving this book so far.

Happy Reading,

Coffee and a Book Chick

Have you ever read anything so deliciously unsettling that you wish you could go back in time so you could read it when it was first published?  So that you could experience it at the height of its newness?

Quite disturbing and uncomfortable feelings occurred while reading this week.  I attribute it to Daphne du Maurier's Classics of the Macabre that I received from the library, which features quite a creepy collection of short stories that were released with illustrations by Michael Foreman in 1987 to celebrate Du Maurier's 80th birthday.  I didn't read the short stories in order, but instead trounced around and first started with "The Apple Tree," which was so fiendishly enjoyable that I wrote a separate review for it.

I also kept thinking of how Tim Burton should really select a Daphne du Maurier short story for his next film, particularly one of my favorites below...

_______________________________________________________________________________

A quick overview of all stories in this collection along with a sample of the wonderful illustrations:

Don't Look Now.  A husband and wife vacationing in Venice and trying to move on from the death of Christine, their young daughter, are told by a psychic that she is actually sitting with them at the table.  Although the husband thinks it's all a ruse, the wife believes.  When the psychic delivers a warning message from the dead daughter that to stay in Venice will not bode well for them...

Frightening and unsettling.

The Apple Tree.  A tree in the backyard begins to prey on the guilty conscience of a widower's mind and reminds him of his dead wife.
I think my absolute favorite, and the first one I read.

The Blue Lenses.  A woman undergoes eye surgery to correct her vision, and her eyes remain covered for six weeks.  When she finally has the bandages removed, she encounters all the people she's been speaking with during her recovery in the hospital have the body of a human, but the head of an animal, one that truly represents them.
A very, very twisted ending.  Maybe this instead is my favorite?  While reading this, I kept thinking that Tim Burton should pick this as next film project.

The Birds.  Alfred Hitchcock selected this short story to make his famous 1963 film of the same name starring Tippi Hedren, Suzanne Pleshette, and Rod Taylor.  Rumor has it that Du Maurier wasn't pleased with this film, and after reading the short story, I can see why.  Nothing quite captures the complete horror and eeriness of the freakish assault of thousands of birds on humans like setting it in the cold and dreary landscape of an English village by a beach, the crashing waves in the background.  Hitchcock's movie was set in California.
Although I enjoyed it, it wouldn't rank in my favorites of the other selections, surprisingly.

The Alibi.  An older married man finds that he's not pleased with his life and he decides that he shall select someone for murder.  A stranger, someone undetectable back to him, and selected in a most unusual way.  Pick this random street, then the 8th house down, perhaps this door...doing so, he comes across a wife and her small son.  He decides to rent a room from her apartment to use as his place to paint during the day, as he's fashioned himself to be an artist. While seeking to draw out his excitement of building trust with his future victim, could they have imagined how this would truly play out?
A very disturbing story, and one that gave me quite a shudder.

Not After Midnight.  A British teacher is vacationing in Greece at a chalet facing the sea.  The chalet apparently once housed a guest who unfortunately drowned and the hotel employees are a bit superstitiously hesitant around this room.  The teacher is a bit more curious than he should be, and slowly begins to investigate the circumstances of the previous guest's death, and the curious association that the victim had with another couple vacationing in the same resort.
Although frighteningly good, it wasn't my favorite, and I wish there had been one more story after this one, or if it instead ended with either Don't Look Now or The Blue Lenses.

_______________________________________________________________________________

I haven't read Daphne du Maurier before, so this collection of short stories was a brilliant introduction, and one that I read to participate in the Daphne du Maurier Challenge hosted by Chrisbookarama.  I found Du Maurier to be a bit like a twisted O. Henry -- the endings were never quite you imagined them to be, only much darker and haunting.  The writing was beautiful and truly set the atmosphere.  Now, I'm looking forward to picking up Rebecca, yet another creepy story, and the one that etched the author's name in literary history.

Happy Reading!
Coffee and a Book Chick

This is my first time reading a Patrick McGrath story.  It will not be my last.  I don't know how I haven't come across his work before, and I feel I have to catch up on all that I've missed out on.

Normally, I finish a book and immediately pronounce to myself whether it was good or bad, and then I'm off to the next selection from my burgeoning bookshelves.  It's been awhile, however, since I closed the pages of a story and had to sit and reflect for a few moments afterwards.  Without question, this was an excellent book, and I needed more time to think on the very nature behind the story, the characters, and events. Needless to say, I brooded and ruminated on the ending for quite some time.

Asylum, by Patrick McGrath has done all of this.  It has all the elements of a story that I like -- a haunting setting in the gloomy and sweeping English countryside, a dark love affair, secrets, and ambiguity.

Stella is the mother of a young boy, Charlie and the wife of Max, an esteemed psychiatrist at a maximum-security institution for the criminally insane just outside of London, England, in the late 1950s. Her day to day life of wife and mother is mundane, and her husband really doesn't have the drive or passion to keep her interested.  Only a few patients are granted access to the grounds around the house on the institution, to work on the garden or to redo the old conservatory, with a watchful group of staff nearby. Unbeknownst to all, though, Stella becomes the lover of an incredibly dangerous patient, Edgar.  He's quite an artist, but he's also destructively jealous -- his unending stay in the institution was determined because he killed his wife in a brutal and mutilating manner, apparently because she was seeing other men.  Stella, however, still finds herself uncontrollably drawn to him and caught up in the passion of this bizarre love.

This is an absolutely fascinating story and it is incredibly written, told through the perspective of another doctor at the institution, the older and wiser Dr. Peter Cleave. I initially thought I wouldn't care for this character, but I ultimately found that not only was it necessary in order to describe a general understanding of the mind -- the breakdown of Stella, the depth of manipulation by Edgar, and the ultimate weaknesses of Stella's husband, but it also explained the neurosis and psychosis of the characters.  The insight Dr. Cleave provided was so critical to understand how these fictionalized people became completely devoid of reality only to succumb to the obsession everyone represses -- the ability to become thoroughly self-obsessed, whether or not it destroys innocent lives.

With Peter telling the story, in some scenes almost clinically, it created a much more haunting feel and I felt completely entrenched in the story. Several times it seemed to intensify so sadly and in such a disturbing nature, that I couldn't fathom it to turn more grim than it already was, but the author was able to continue down that path even further.  Peter provides a trusting credibility that lends quite a bit to the pleasure that I had in the twists that occurred.  I was mortified, angry, heartbroken, and completely engrossed in the story.

Patrick McGrath has created a suspenseful psychological thriller of obsession with oneself.  It is haunting and dark, deeply erotic in some scenes, and altogether disturbing.  Highly recommended, and I will be on the lookout for more Patrick McGrath books.

Side Note:  Patrick McGrath grew up near Broadmoor Hospital in London (a high-security psychiatric hospital), where his father was a medical superintendent.  He is a British novelist whose work has been categorized as Gothic fiction, and his fiction is "principally characterized by the first person unreliable narrator, and recurring subject matter in his work includes mental illness, repressed homosexuality, and adulterous relationships."(Source: Wikipedia)

Happy Reading,

Coffee and a Book Chick

FTC Disclosure...I requested this book from Paperbackswap after reading The Literate Housewife's blog -- she loved this book and Patrick McGrath is one of her favorite authors.