Five Women Writing the Gothic
There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand. – Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein
Why are so many of the best Gothic writers women?
When I originally planned this blog, I was simply thinking of women writers who have influenced me and whom I haven’t already written about (H.D. and Virginia Woolf are mentioned in my Queer writers blog.) However, once I really looked at my list, I realised that all five are best-known for their Gothic work. I wrote about the female Gothic in my MA dissertation on Shirley Jackson; as a sub-genre, it often conflates the supernatural with the very real fears women often possess around navigating a patriarchal society.
Again, just look at the works of the writers I’ve chosen. In Susan Hill’s The Woman in Black, the eponymous woman had to give up her son due to being an unmarried mother; in Jackson’s works, young women are often ignored, persecuted, or outright called witches; the second Mrs de Winter in Rebecca is a young woman navigating a complex relationship with a much older husband, Ann Radcliffe’s works featured male antagonists threatening various heroines; and, of course, Frankenstein, where part of the inspiration came from Shelley losing a child (and her own mother had died eleven days after giving birth to her).
So here’s a little bit more about each of the writers and how they’ve influenced my own pretty Gothic work.
Susan Hill (b.1942)
Hill is, of course, best known for The Woman in Black. The stage adaptation is one of the most impressive theatrical experiences I’ve ever had – think teenage girls having to step out because they’re one jump scare away from a full-on panic attack. I’ve read most of her other, also Gothic, works, which after a while, might get a bit samey, but then no-one’s ever accused M.R. James of repetition. Plus, when ‘samey’ is of such a high quality, I can’t really begrudge her. But there’s a reason why The Woman in Black is so iconic – it’s a short novel (perhaps even novella) but it’s absolutely soaked through with atmosphere. That marsh mist is palpable and Eel Marsh House feels so desperately lonely. I re-read it every time my own descriptive writing needs a boost.
Shirley Jackson (1916-1965)
As I’ve said before, I wrote my MA on Jackson and her work, so obviously I’m hugely biased. My favourites (which are the books I explored in my dissertation) are The Bird’s Nest, The Haunting of Hill House, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle. These books, along with du Maurier’s work, are the perfect examples of Mid-Century Gothic – these aren’t stories set in far-flung lands or in an indeterminate time. They are the ‘now’ in which they were published, taking all of those Romantic tropes of madness and young women under threat, but giving them subversive twists. For example, why can’t the vulnerable girl actually be a murderer? What happens if someone tries to conduct a scientific experiment in a haunted house? Can psychiatrists always be trusted to have their patients’ best interests at heart?
Daphne du Maurier (1907-1989)
Of course, du Maurier wrote many works in many genres, but for me, Rebecca is Queen reigning above them all. Manderley is the enormous stately home of Nineteenth Century Gothic literature, but this time the haunting isn’t literal and the mysterious older man with the murderous past isn’t necessarily the threat. As with The Woman in Black, the sense of place is extraordinary and for a relatively long book, the pacing is excellent.
Ann Radcliffe (1764-1823)
Radcliffe was one of the true pioneers of the Gothic genre. Yes, there’s The Mysteries of Udolpho, but when I was first at uni, we had to read The Romance of the Forest, which really introduced me to so many of those now familiar Gothic tropes: there’s a ruined abbey, a vulnerable orphan, a villainous uncle, a brooding atmosphere. This was a book that Coleridge himself praised by the way and FYI, I’ve always preferred Coleridge over Wordsworth (see: Christabel).
Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1797-1851)
One word: Frankenstein. Obviously, the book itself has been adapted umpteen times, but the story behind it is just as compelling. Everyone knows about the ghost story competition between the Shelleys, Byron, and Polidori one stormy night in Geneva. It’s also pretty widely known that Mary was traumatised by the loss of her child and was having nightmares. The ‘new science’ of electricity gave the story the spark of life it needed (pun intended, I guess) and we’re still having discussions two centuries later about whether Frankenstein is the scientist or the monster. The scientist, obviously.
I do really like the book, but in terms of Frankenstein’s influence on me – well, that really comes from the James Whale film, specifically that moment when the creature’s hand twitches with life. Iconic.
The Gothic in Coldharbour
I tend to describe Coldharbour as a Queer Gothic urban fantasy. Even though the book is now out, I don’t want to drop huge spoilers, so I’ll just say that some of the Gothic elements include a haunted house, dark family secrets, and a tormented protagonist.
If that sounds like your cup of tea, you can now buy Coldharbour here.
