Guest post written by My Darling Dreadful Thing author Johanna van Veen
Johanna van Veen grew up in the Netherlands with her two sisters. She received an MA in English Literature with a specialization in early modern literature, as well as an MA Book and Digital Media with a specialization in early modern book history. She enjoys spending time with her girlfriend, her sisters, and her dog, though not necessarily all at the same time.
Gothic fiction, my beloved! So difficult to define, yet so recognizable when you read it. This subgenre – or, as Wikipedia would have it, this “loose literary aesthetic of fear and haunting” – originates in the eighteenth century and is characterized by a claustrophobic atmosphere, strong emotions, and a non-linear and complicated form (think: dreams, stories within stories, loads of interstitials).
At its heart, gothic works of fiction usually revolve around horrible secrets in the past now bleeding into the present. These secrets often relate to acts of horrific violence that can be read as an expression of societal conflict. Ann Radcliffe’s A Sicilian Romance (1790), for example, brims with male abuses of power towards the women in their care and includes instances of wrongful imprisonment, attempted murder, and infidelity; Toni Morrison’s Beloved (1987) deals with the horrors of slavery within the US.
The secret at the core of a gothic text may also relate to something considered taboo: Carmilla (1872) is chockful of lesbian attraction and only narrowly avoided censorship by Sheridan le Fanu arguing that the attraction was not, in fact, lesbian because Carmilla is a vampire and as such has no gender, and the phenomenal gothic movie Crimson Peak (2015) contains an incestual relationship.
Because the gothic is so obsessed with taboos, and because it is minority groups that bear the brunt of systemic violence and abuses of power, it’s not to be wondered at that minorities (such as queer people, women, and people of color) have always been attracted to and comforted by this subgenre, both as readers and authors. For your personal enrichment and entertainment, I have compiled a short and inexhaustive list of some modern sapphic gothic novels that, in my humble opinion, are well worth your time and money.
Affinity by Sarah Waters
As a way to recover from her depression and suicide attempt, upper-class Margaret decides to volunteer as a lady visitor at the women’s ward of Millbank prison. There, she meets Selina Dawes, a spiritualist medium who has been accused of fraud after a séance ended with one woman dead and another deeply disturbed. Soon, Margaret is drawn into Selina’s world and begins to question whether the girl may, in fact, be innocent, and spirits real.
This is the first Sarah Waters’ novel I ever read, and it blew me away. The novel is beautifully written – my little dark heart throbs with writer’s envy whenever I read a passage crafted by Waters –, utterly compelling, and expertly plotted. Once I finished reading the final chapter, I had to sit for a while to process my emotions. That done, I immediately ordered all her other books. I have read Affinity almost ten years ago now, and still vividly remember it. If that’s not the hallmark of a good novel, I don’t know what is.
The Confessions of Frannie Langton by Sara Collins
Frannie Langton, servant, former slave, stands accused of having murdered her employer and his wife. The evidence is damning, but though Frannie can’t remember what happened that night and how she came to be covered in the murder victims’ blood, she knows one thing for sure: she cannot have murdered her mistress, because she was in love with her.
Just like Toni Morrison’s Beloved, The Confessions of Frannie Langton lays bare the horrors of slavery and racism. It shows us how constant abuse and discrimination and the trauma and the pain and the anger resulting from that can twist a person. At the same time, this book never feels melodramatic or exaggerated, and I never felt as if Collins tried to manipulate me into feeling certain things. She simply writes about the reality of being a woman of color in an honest, unflinching way, and does so by drawing on canonical gothic texts in surprising and creative ways, showing us her skill as a writer and her mastery of this genre. As such, The Confessions of Frannie Langton is a difficult and harrowing read, but it is also an incredible and rewarding one.
Mary and the Birth of Frankenstein by Anne Eekhout
This novel contains two timelines: one set during that fateful summer in 1816 during which Mary Shelley wrote one of the most famous novels of all time, and one set four years previously, when she stayed with the Baxter family in Scotland, where the enigmatic and beautiful Isabella drew Mary into a world of spirits and witches and monsters. Bold as a flash of lightning, these two timelines together illuminate how Mary came to write Frankenstein.
We are currently experiencing something of a Frankenstein renaissance, and small wonder; it is a phenomenal piece of fiction that you can read over and over again and never grow bored with. It is also a work that many have drawn inspiration from (and will continue to do so, I am sure). What Eekhout manages to do with Mary and the Birth of Frankenstein is imagine a time in Mary Shelley’s life that has been largely neglected by most authors inspired by Frankenstein, even though, according to Mary Shelley herself, this Scottish episode was one of the main sources of inspiration for her novel. In this way, and through her gorgeous and creative writing, Eekhout manages to add a novel to the Frankenstein legacy that is well worth your time.
The Temple House Vanishing by Rachel Donohue
Louise and Victoria, both students at an all-girls Catholic boarding school, develop a passionate friendship that at least partly revolves around their infatuation with their charismatic art teacher. That is, until the teacher and Louise both disappear, seemingly having eloped together. Twenty-five years later, a young journalist decides to try and solve this cold case.
What better setting for a queer gothic mystery than an all-girls Catholic boarding school? Like the other books on this list (I spot a pattern!), I found this book beautifully written and completely compelling; though I tried to savor it, I ultimately ended up devouring it in two days. Unlike the three previous books, this one takes place in a more modern setting, and, though it is still gothic and deals with the taboo desire of two teenage girls for an adult who definitely shouldn’t be reciprocating but clearly revels in their attentions, it doesn’t feel as heavy as the others. If you are looking for a deeply gothic and suspenseful read that simultaneously won’t rip out your heart and stomp all over it, this is the one for you.
Yellow Jessamine by Caitlin Starling
Shipping magnate Evelyn Perdanu has had to do unspeakable things to reach her position of power in the dying city of Delphinium. When one of her ships returns and brings with it a mysterious illness that causes all sufferers to become singularly obsessed with her, that position of power is threatened. Evelyn must uncover the link between this sickness and herself, or risk losing all she has worked so hard and suffered so terribly for to obtain.
Technically, this is a novella, and unlike the previous entries on this list, it takes place in a fantasy setting, so perhaps I am cheating a little here, but don’t be fooled: Yellow Jessamine is one gruesomely gothic and sweetly sapphic story. Despite clocking in at only 130 pages, this novella feels lush and fully realized. For those of you who have tired a little of traditional gothic, this is the book to choose.
If you are like me and you simply can’t get enough of sapphic gothic fiction, there is always more to read! You should probably check out my sapphic gothic horror novel My Darling Dreadful Thing, if I may be so bold. It is set in the Netherlands in the 1950s and revolves around Roos, a young woman with a spirit companion. Ruth looks like a bog body, has a thirst for blood, and is fiercely possessive of Roos, but she’s also the only good thing in Roos’ life, which is filled with sordid backroom séances, starvation, and other abuse at the hands of her mother. When young and wealthy widow Agnes attends one of these séances, she is so impressed by Roos that she asks her to come live with her at the dilapidated estate she inherited upon the death of her husband. From the case notes of Doctor Montague, a psychiatrist tasked with determining whether Roos is mentally fit to stand trial, we know that something awful will happen there, but what? And, more importantly, who – or what – is to blame?
Once you are done checking out my novel, may I suggest any of the following:
Historical gothic:
- Fingersmith by Sarah Waters.
- Our Hideous Progeny by C.E. McGill.
- The Wicked Cometh by Laura Carlin.
- Maddalena and the Dark by Julia Fine.
Gothic with a modern setting:
- Tripping Arcadia by Kit Mayquist.
- Bloom by Delilah S. Dawson.
- Sisters by Daisy Johnson.
Fantasy gothic:
- House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson.
- Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson.
