Creepy dolls

Dolls are creepy. And what's even creepier is if dolls find their way in the hands of Susan Hill. Yes, Hill of The Woman in Black fame has a new ghost story, and it involves decaying house, two young cousins, and lots of Gothic atmosphere. I knew at the onset that I would like this.

In Dolly, we meet Edward Cayley, an orphan, who would spend one summer at his Aunt Kestrel's creepy house in Iyot Lock. Edward would be spending the summer with his cousin, Leonora von Vorst. While the two children almost have the same ages, they couldn't be more different. Edward is pensive and sensitive, and Leonora is terribly spoiled.

Everything seems to be quite an uneventful summer, notwithstanding Leonora's tantrums and complaints. But this is a ghost story after all, and there must be a turning point for these innocuous happenings. In this novel, everything changes on Leonora's birthday, when Aunt Kestrel presents Leonora with a beautiful lifelike doll. But it's not what Leonora had in mind though. Leonora then flings the doll to the wall, cracking its porcelain face and storms out of the room. Edward takes it upon himself to get rid of the doll by burying it outside the house.

Years pass and Edward recalls the many times he has spent other summers at his aunt's. Leonora, on the other hand, never returns. It's only upon the death of Aunt Kestrel when the two meet again to discuss the terms of the will. It appears that their aunt has left everything to Edward. And what about Leonora? She gets the doll her aunt gave her on her 9th birthday. Edward shows Leonora where he buried the doll and reveals it. What was inside the box shocked them. The doll has aged in all those years it was under the ground.

Dolly doesn't stop here though. We get to read how Edward has suffered many sleepless nights hearing a disturbig sound, a sound made by someone, or something, scraping on paper. Edward knows that it's the buried doll, of course. It's calling out to him, as if it were asking him to set it free.

In the novel's final chapters, we get to know how Leonora runs out of money and asks Edward to give her the house. She's down on her luck—divorced, with a 2-year-old baby daughter, and without money. Edward, now a successful man, agrees to have Leonora stay at Iyot Lock. But then makes a very unwise decision. He finds an intricate Indian princess doll in one of his trips and gives it to Leonora. She wouldn't accept it though, and sends it back to him. When he opens the package from Leonora, what the doll looks like now would haunt him. Gone were its beautiful Indian features. The doll now had the features of a crone.

Dolly is one chilling read. Like her other ghost stories, it's almost like a novella at 150 pages. It doesn't quite hold up to the scariness of The Woman in Black, the bleak mood of The Small Hand, or the sense of dread of The Man in the Picture. But it's still a very satisfying read. I just hope that Susan Hill never stops coming out with ghost stories.

Read this book if:

1. You love short scary reads.
2. You know that dolls are creepy.
3. You'll read anything by Susan Hill.

I is for Irving

Totally unexpected, this one. I know all about the big screen adaptation by Tim Burton, but that movie takes a liberal shot at Washington Irving's novella, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Liberal, like 50%. When I think about it, all the movie had in common with Irving's material is the Headless Horseman and Ichabod Crane. And Burton just borrows the name of the latter. Because when you break it down, Johnny Depp's character doesn't share any similarities with the Ichabod Crane that Irving writes about.

All right, so we have Ichabod Crane, who is not a member of the judiciary but is merely a humble schoolteacher. So humble, so insecure, and so clumsy. And he's not really the hero of the story as it will turn out. By the end of the story, Ichabod Crane is just one more casualty. Was he a victim of the Headless Horseman? Or was he just an unfortunate character who's fallen prey to a prank by Brom Bones. Brom and Ichabod are both wooing the town beauty, Katrina Van Tassel. It's really not made clear though if Katrina has directly denied Ichabod her hand. All we know is that at the end of the party, Ichabod leaves with very low spirits.

What caught me off guard was how humorous the story can be. Somehow, we feel that Irving is making light of the people of Sleepy Hollow. He loves them, make no mistake. But it's as if he's inviting the reader to see that these are people who tell creepy stories to amuse themselves. I'm amused as well. I'm amused at the brilliant way that Irving shows us how a town's beliefs, its superstitions, can influence the lives of the locals. And that despite these superstitions, they make do.

It's no wonder that Irving's stories have stood the test of time. These are the kind of stories that you tell each other at the campfire. These are the stories that you share to your friends to creep them out. While the Headless Horseman doesn't really appear till the end of the story, there's a sense of pervading gloom right from page 1 of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. By the end of the story, if you're not creeped out by what happens to Ichabod Crane, then at least it will give you pause to think whether the Headless Horseman is real or not.

Read this book if:

1. You love short creepy stories.
2. You've seen the movie, and now it's time to read the book.
3. Headless Horseman! Headless Horseman! Is there really any other reason for reading this?

B is for Brontë

My first dead guy was Austen, and I didn't like her so much. Now my 2nd dead guy—Charlotte Brontë—is something so completely unexpected. Jane Eyre is a marvelous read. And with its Gothic theme, I wonder why it took me this long to read it.

Yes, Jane Eyre is heavy on the melodrama, but I loved it. I loved the eponymous character, she of the head strong female, the kind of person every young girl should look up to. She knows what she wants, and even though she doesn't usually get it, she's prepared to say no to things just because it would be convenient for her. Marriage to a handsome pastor but is not made of love? No, thank you. Jane Eyre will have her Mr Rochester.

The premise is simple enough. Orphaned girl is taken in by an uncle who eventually dies too. Uncle's wife is a huge b***c, who makes life terrible for the 10-year-old Jane. Jane is transplated to a boarding school for orphans, where she stays for 10 years. For the last 2 years, she serves as teacher to the same school. But Jane has itchy feet, and she decides to apply as a governess to the ward of a certain Mr Rochester.

Lowering my expectations on the 1st page

Jane falls madly in love with Mr Rochester. What struck me about this attraction is that it's not at all based on beauty and gallantry. Rochester isn't handsome, he's a bit of a stuck up and very anal, and he seems to have this sense of entitlement which he never fails to remind his household staff. Yes, Jane's attraction isn't explained at all, and that's how I know that this is one good romance. Love doesn't need any justification. You just love someone. Period.

But Rochester has a secret: he's still married to a crazy woman whom he keeps in the 3rd floor of his house. This secret isn't revealed till the day of Jane's wedding to Mr Rochester. The two don't become husband and wife at this point though, for upon discovering this not-so-teeny-tiny a secret, Jane flees. In the last quarter of the novel, we read how Jane discovers her cousins, almost marries a parson named Mr St John Rivers, and comes into her inheritance upon the death of her uncle.

I totally get Jane.

Mr Rochester and Jane do end up as a couple though. And here is where the novel really shines. When Jane goes back to Thornfield, he finds Mr Rochester blind and in a nasty state. But it doesn't matter—she still loves him and she's prepared to make all the sacrifices for the sake of this love. Do you find this sappy, dear reader? I do. But it's the good kind of sappy, the kind of sappy that doesn't make you fling the book at the couple making out in the train.

I'd like to think of Jane Eyre as not just merely a love story. Oh, the love story is a huge part of it all right, but I think it's more of the journey of a character, from someone who seems to have nothing at all to a woman who knows that life is about the choices we make and the consequences of those choices.

Jane always found a way to redeem herself at various stages of her life. In Lowood, the boarding school, she refuses to acknowledge the lies being told about her. In her refusal to marry Mr St John Rivers, she knew that marrying someone just because it would be easy for them to go to India on a missionary tour is a mistake. When she found out Mr Rochester's secret, Jane believes that staying in Thornfield would always present a moral dilemma, as she'd always be in the presence of a man she loves and can never marry.

Yes, this book is a treasure.

To say that I had a blast reading Jane Eyre would be an understatement. I devoured the book. I kissed it when I finished it. I recommended it to friends. It's not a short read, being more than 400 pages, but it's a rewarding one. It's very moral without being preachy, romantic without being too sugary, dark and luminous in different parts. It really is, without a doubt, a classic.

Read this book if:

1. You love strong female characters.
2. You know that one should always marry someone you love and nobody else.
3. You've always been curious about the works of the Brontë sisters.

We wish to inform you that your baby has now been replaced

During the weekend, I finished Brenna Yovanoff's young adult novel The Replacement and found myself being conflicted with my feelings toward it. It does have all the elements that I usually am partial too—the creepy atmosphere, the supernatural characters based on folklore, the subtle horror, and the romance not bordering on bubblegum. And yet, I'm not too sure if I really liked it.

The Replacement touches on a myth that seems to be common across different cultures: supernatural creatures living below the ground steal babies and replace them with one of their own. In Yovanoff's novel, this unfortunate incident seems to happen in the town of Gentry regularly. It's a situation that the town folk don't talk about openly; a few of them view it as a sacrifice to these mythical creatures. These babies are offered as a way of thanks for giving Gentry a few more years of prosperity.

Normally though, the replaced babies—these changelings—don't live long. But Mackie Doyle is an exception. He's now 16 but is apparently slowly dying. He gets long-lasting dizzy spells brought about by being near to objects made of iron; he passes out easily. The human world isn't an environment where he can thrive. He's living in it on borrowed time. But he finds out that he is drawn to the underworld where he originally came from, and it's a world that can offer him the chance to live. However, choosing the underworld means leaving his family behind and also the girl whom he has fallen in love with, Tate.

I was expecting that the romance angle of The Replacement would be a major element. Thankfully, it's not. More than anything, it is the concept of the family that Yovanoff chooses to highlight. We find out that the changelings don't survive long because the family knows that their babies have been replaced, and that this knowledge is what keeps preventing them from loving the changelings. In Mackie's case, it is not the love of his "parents" that made the difference, but the enduring, unselfish love of his older sister. His sister chooses to look beyond the fact that Mackie is no longer her original brother; she acknowledges that Mackie will be the only brother that she'll have.

I like Yovanoff's writing style. The slow burn, the musings of the characters, and the exploration of the importance of family and friends are pretty much enjoyable to read. But something is holding me back from loving The Replacement. I can't quite put my finger on it yet. Maybe I would have liked more exposition on the supernatural aspect of the novel. As it is, the mythical creatures don't even have labels of what they really are. The underworld, with its wonderfully ugly inhabitants, had a huge potential for development. Unfortunately, I was left wanting.

Still, I think I would read more of Yovanoff's works, as her writing is very beautiful and very fluid. She has 2 more novels that I've seen recently: The Space between Us and Paper Valentine. I've Googled the stories of these novels, and I think they're right up my alley.

Read this book if:

1. You're fascinated with the idea of changelings.
2. You understand the concept of " being beautifully ugly."
3. You love creepy reads.

Poe's the real deal

So today is the delayed Halloween party of the book club. Its theme is "Steampoe," literally a combination of steampunk and Edgar Allan Poe. I've read a few steampunk novels but have never sampled any of Poe's works. And I think that could be easily remedied.

Good thing that Penguin English Library has a book on Poe, which contains 19 very entertaining stories. The Murders in the Rue Morgue and Other Tales has all the classic Poe short stories: "The Masque of the Red Death," "The Pit and the Pendulum," and "The Tell-Tale Heart," "The Cask of Amontillado," to name a few. It's a beautiful collection of Poe's works, with the reader having no choice but to read each story in one sitting.

Ah, Poe, why did it take me so long to read your nightmarish, weird, Gothic, horrifying stories? I've always considered myself quite wide read when it comes to the horror genre, but now that I've read Poe's tales, most of the novels that I've read seem to be the work of amateurs. Poe's ideas are so wonderfully bizaare that you think it's either he's brilliant or he's one crazy SOB. I feel that only a person with a sick mind can come up with these dark tales.

Among the 19 tales collected in this anthology, my favorites would have to be "Ligeia," "The Fall of the House of Usher," and, of course, "The Murders in the Rue Morgue." I think "Ligeia" is one creepy ghost story, with the ghost finding her way back into her lover's arms and her lover eagerly welcoming her back. And the Gothic atmosphere of "The Fall of the House of Usher" is unparalleled. You can cut the menace and the creepiness with a knife.

Curiously, "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" is more scientific than anything. What the characters do to untangle the mystery is very unorthodox. Now who (or what) committed the brutal murders is a surprise in itself. While this tale may seem to be a detective story when you finish it, its opening is one that needs an empty stomach for its sheer gore. A woman and her daughter are found in their house dead. The daughter has been pushed feet first up the chimney; the mother is found with her throat slit so deep that when people remove the body, her head falls off. Say good-bye to your appetite, dear reader.

Poe died at the age of 40. Quite a shame to leave the world at that young age, when you think about it. Who knows what tales of violence, macabre, madness, and horror he would've written if he had lived longer? Do take the time to read (or reread) Poe, dear readers. Your world will be darker for it.

Read this book if:

1. Horror is your genre.
2. You love the unexpected twists in endings.
3. You know that, sometimes, the world is a dark place.

In which I was blissfully lost in this novel's 700 pages

Ah, Gothic fiction! Just the fact that I am holding a Gothic novel is enough to call the experience orgasmic. If there's one particular subgenre that I particularly like, it's Gothic fiction, with its dark atmosphere, crazy nuns and monks, and subtle horror.

Charles Maturin's Melmoth the Wanderer is one novel that a lot of people feel is one of the (if not the) best Gothic novel ever written. Its doorstop proportion at 700 pages requires the stamina and focus from any reader.

So I pick it up thinking that I'll probably need a week at least to finish it. But hey, I finished it in 2 days. And in those 2 days, I felt that I was high on hallucinatory drugs. Maturin's narrative is so bleak, so riddled with stories within stories within stories that it's almost effortless to get lost in the story.

The wanderer in Melmoth the Wanderer is indeed the villain of this novel. Although, I felt I shouldn't disregard all the priests and monks who are so devious in their plans that it's second nature for them to engage in deception and mental and physical abuse. Like any Gothic novel, Melmoth the Wanderer provides a sharp criticism on the apparent excesses of the Catholic church. In Maturin's novel, the Inquisition figures prominently. Innocent characters are subjected to the brutal eyes and hands of the Inquisition upon the recommendation of the clergy.

Anyway, back to Melmoth. I'm not sure how I'd identify him. He's part devil, fantastic entity, specter, and seducer. He's been around for more than a hundred years after engaging in a satanic bargain. And this Melmoth now haunts troubled individuals, tempting them and granting them favors in exchange for his release.

The stories within stories with stories is where you'll see Melmoth's dealings through the years. A Spaniard gets washed ashore in Ireland, who recounts his story about how he was forced to become a monk by a religious superior. Then a character in a story then recounts another story set in another location (e.g., India). It can get confusing, especially with the time element as several years can pass in just a few sentences.

One thing I noticed about this novel is that it can get funny at times. One moment, Maturin describes a bleak scene and then he suddenly delivers a comical retort in another. In the first chapter, an elder Melmoth is just blabbering away while in his death bed, and then, just like that, Maturin writes off his character.

'They are robbing me, – robbing me in my last moments, – robbing a dying man. John, won't you assist me, – I shall die a beggar; they are taking my last shirt, – I shall die a beggar.' – And the miser died.

As a Gothic novel, Melmoth the Wanderer is very satisfying. You can cut the novel's dark tone with a knife. The scenes where characters are tortured and imprisoned in monasteries are textbook. Melmoth's apparitions in different places defy explanation. Although it may feel that Maturin is just all over the place with his story, I loved it. I loved how the characters go overboard with their melodrama. I loved the shifts in settings. I loved the long paragraphs and the seemingly rambling prose. I loved all its 700 pages.

Read this book if:

1. You're into Gothic fiction.
2. You're not intimidated by doorstops.
3. You want to get lost yourself.

Scandal fiction in the 1860s rocks

So here I was thinking that I've never been this much entertained by a classic novel (i.e., The Count of Monte Cristo). Then I picked up Mary Elizabeth Braddon's novel, Lady Audley's Secret, and was rewarded with a very enthralling read. For a book published in 1862, this novel can still shock many readers.

Lady Audley's Secret was a bestseller in the 1860s. It was a novel that many people categorized as the penny dreadful or the sensation novel. Braddon became a very famous writer because of this novel, and she was somehow pitted against Wilkie Collins, her contemporary, in this genre. If you've read The Woman in White, you'll discover quite a few similarities as you read Braddon's most famous work.

In the novel, we are introduced to a very beautiful character, one Lady Audley, whom Braddon writes as her anti-heroine. We're all used to the pre-Raphaelite beauties being ravished and kept hostage in a decrepit castle in many Gothic novels. But in this novel, Lady Audley's beauty is her weapon, something which allows her to do things Victorian society frowns upon.

Just who is this Lady Audley? Why is she so averse in meeting the friend of her husband's nephew, a young barrister named Robert Audley? Braddon drops hints here and there that Lady Audley and Robert Audley's friend, George Talboys, might have been husband and wife, and that Lady Audley could have murdered Talboys when her secret is threatened to be exposed.

So is her ladyship's past life the secret that the novel's title refers to? Well, yes, and it's revealed nowhere near as close of the novel's end. So this means that Braddon might have something up on her sleeve to still keep her readers hooked. And does she succeed? Hell, yes! The surprise at the ending will make any reader jump with delight, despite the novel's overall dark and brooding feel.

Read this book if:
You're curious about scandal fiction in the 1800s.
You know that not all bestsellers are badly written.
You love The Woman in White.

In gothic novels, women faint a lot

If there's one genre that I will never tire of reading, it would have to be gothic fiction. There's something about decaying houses, evil nuns and monks, ghostly apparitions, and gloomy weather that make for a very cozy and engaging read. So what better choice than to finish THE gothic novel that started it all -- Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto.

In Walpole's short but pithy novel, the castle is decrepit and is home to Manfred, the current lord. Manfred is a character straight out of the traditional school of villainy. He's manipulative, abusive, and crazy. You know that something is just not right with Manfred's mind when he decides to marry the intended bride for his son, who has just died in the castle. Never mind that he already has a wife, for he thinks that he can always divorce her and force her to spend her remaining days in an abbey.

The bride Isabella escapes with the help of a mysterious character named Theodore, who turns out to be the rightful heir of Otranto. This isn't enough to make the reader's head spin though, for Walpole subtlety is nonexistent. In The Castle of Otranto, it is revealed that Theodore is the son of a friar (gasp!), that Otranto murders his own daughter thinking that it was Isabella, that two men can decide to marry each other's daughters as if it's an innocuous thing, and that Theodore marries Isabella in the end not because he loves her but because Isabella can relate to his sorrow.

The Castle of Otranto is over the top, I'm telling you. It's like written by someone who's both high on drugs and has a severe hangover. But, dear reader, the novel works! We know that this circumstances will appear to be just hysterical in today's prosaic world. But in the 18th century, these events are what make a novel truly gripping.

A best seller when it was published in 1764, The Castle of Otranto has proven to be a very seminal work in gothic fiction, inspiring writers such as Stoker, Radcliffe, Poe, and even Du Maurier in the gothic tradition. If you're truly a fan of gothic fiction, then reading The Castle of Otranto is a given. The novel, which just a little over 100 pages, is one that novel that never fails to entertain, to shock, and, with its convoluted and highly improbable plot, to amaze.

Read this book if:

1. You're a big fan of gothic fiction.
2. You love novels set in crumbling castles.
3. You're in the mood for something totally over the top.

A fresh take on the vampire novel

It's ironic that Marcus Sedgwick's young adult novel, My Swordhand Is Singing, would have one of the freshest takes on vampire fiction. Why? Because the novel actually goes to the roots of the vampire myth in Eastern Europe. In highlighting the past, Sedgwick has written something new, in a genre that's becoming stale.

I loved reading this short novel which has Gothic elements in it. I enjoyed reading about 14-year-old Peter, his drunkard father, and their nomadic life. When these two characters settle in the town of the Eastern European town of Chust in the 17th century, horrible things begin to happen. People start dying, their corpses drained of blood. It's only a matter of time before Peter realizes his role in preventing these vampires from further killing the people of this idyllic town.

Sedgwick has indeed done his research in My Swordhand Is Singing. He traces the origin of the European vampire all the way back to ancient battles involving European royalty, gypsies, and religion. I was fascinated.

The novel also has a heart. It's not all gore and bloodsucking. There's the relationship between Peter and his abusive father to explore. When Tomas reveals something about his past life to Peter, you know that it won't correct all the bad things Tomas has done to his son. However, what's admirable is how Peter responds to this revelation. There's a bit of a romance too, a love triangle actually, which is wonderfully downplayed by Sedgwick.

I've read lots of vampire novels and I do tend to have a strong opinion on them. Recently, I've gone through Justin Cronin's The Passage (great), Meyer's The Twilight Saga (bad, generally), Melissa De La Cruz's Blue Bloods series (horrible), and Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan's The Strain (passable), just to name a few. My Swordhand Is Singing is one of the good ones out there.

Read this book if:

1. You're into vampire fiction.
2. You love Gothic novels.
3. You're curious about the history of vampires.

P.S. Thank you, Iya, for giving me this book. I had a grand time reading it. I just have one beef though -- it's too short! I didn't want it to end.

Creeped out

It's that time of the year again when we all gather around with friends and share ghost stories. It's the season to watch again our favorite scary movies and reread our beloved creepy novels and short stories. And what better way for me to start this Halloween season than to read Susan Hill's frightening ghost story, The Small Hand.

Of course, my favorite ghost story of all time will still be Hill's The Woman in Black, but The Small Hand definitely comes close. It's also a short novel (a lot of people would thus call this a novella), but it is immensely satisfying.

In this story, we meet Adam Snow, a dealer in rare books, who stumbles across a long-forgotten house called the the White House after taking a wrong turn. For reasons he can't explain, he becomes drawn into the house and suddenly feels a small hand grasp his as he enters the gate. Soon after, he experiences panic attacks and apparent hauntings. And it doesn't help that the feel of the small hand becomes more and more frequent.

True to other ghost stories of Susan Hill, the phenomenon of the small hand is linked to Adam's family, more specifically to his brother, who have been confined to a mental institution during his younger years. I won't divulge the connection though, since the twist at the end is too good to reveal in this humble review.

The Small Hand is the kind of ghost story that we all long for -- with its gothic feel, its creepy atmosphere from page 1, and its pervasive feeling of thread. Fans of The Woman in Black will find common themes in this novel and, like me, will wish for Hill to come up with more ghost stories in the future.

I'm a big fan of ghost stories, and I must admit that I don't scare easily. But reading The Small Hand made me wish for a companion in the middle of the night. Yes, it is that good.

Read this book if:

1. You loved The Woman in Black.
2. You're a sucker for all things Halloween.
3. You're a true blue ghost story addict.
   

Bad, bad monk

My first read for 2010 is a gloomy novel that has one of the most evil characters I've met recently, and I absolutely enjoyed it! Matthew Lewis's The Monk, first published in 1796, still has the shock and sensational value when you read it today. The Monk is a very sinister read. Yes, you have to get used to the dated language, but it's worth it.

In the late 18th century in Spain, we meet the monk Ambrosio, a Capuchin whose sermons and preachings are the talk of Madrid. He soon discovers that one of his beloved novices is actually a woman, who is a beautiful but devious and manipulative person named Matilda. Ambrosio and Matilda then carry on a very illicit affair while still in the monastery. Ambrosio then sees another beautiful maiden in the person of Antonia and becomes smitten with her. Matilda helps Ambrosio get the favor of Antonia by becoming the confessor of her dying mother. Ambrosio, with his passion uncontrolled, murders Antonia's mother so that he can rape her.

I can see why The Monk was tremendously popular when it was first published. And it also bore several negative feelings among the people who read it. With its images of naked women being ravished, The Monk was even perceived to be pornographic. I was actually quite surprised to be reading about women's body parts being touched in an 18th century novel. Nevertheless, these graphic descriptions only heighten the novel's atmosphere of menace and evil that men can have.

There are also other storylines in The Monk that support Ambrosio's evil character. In one of the first few chapters, we read how Ambrosio banishes Agnes, a nun, into the monastery's dungeon because he discovered that Agnes was carrying a child and was constantly seeing a man. Agnes's rescue becomes a pivotal point in the novel because it is through this instance that Ambrosio is revealed to be the monster that he is. Another storyline involves Antonia's romance with a young nobleman named Lorenzo, who was also instrumental in rescuing Agnes from the hands of those vengeful nuns.

Murder, rape, temptresses, lustful monks, and sadistic nuns. It appears that Lewis really wanted his novel to be controversial during its time. He even throws in scenes of demon summoning and magic to provide another dimension to The Monk, albeit a supernatural one. Lewis also incorporates humor, a certain playfulness in his narrative. (I think I identifed a couple of jokes in the novel.) Also, the ending has to be read to be believed. In a way, Lewis wrote an ending wherein all his characters deserved what's coming to them.

The Monk is indeed one of the best Gothic novels that I've read. It even comes close to my all-time favorite Gothic novel, The Woman in White. In certain aspects, what makes The Monk somewhat better than TWIW is that Lewis parodies the Gothic genre in his story. The chapter on the bleeding nun is the finest example of this parody. In the said chapter, Lewis injects the ghost-that-really-isn't-a-ghost in the story, playing homage to a common element in Gothic fiction.

For all the negative feelings the novel evokes, its themes of evil in persons of the cloth, and its graphic description of sex, The Monk is indeed a notable classical novel. It works on so many levels that I found myself reading it as if it were a contemporary page-turner. I'm glad I chose this novel to start my reading for 2010.

Read this book if:

1. You're into Gothic fiction.
2. You're wondering how an 18th century novel can be labelled as graphic.
3. You love reading about murder happening in sinister places.

Beautiful disaster

Ill-fated star-crossed lovers have always been fascinating themes in novels, plays, and poems. We've all seen it -- from families at war; vampires, werewolves, and humans; aliens and humans. But what about witches and humans? That's what Beautiful Creatures is all about. Beautiful Creatures is a debut young adult novel by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl, both of whom have been fascinated by supernatural elements in fiction and have longed to write a novel that is set in the South.

One can describe Beautiful Creatures as a Southern Gothic novel, as it is set in a small Southern town called Gatlin and it has the trademark Gothic elements: forbidden love, dark family secrets, creepy ancestral houses, just to name a few. In the novel, 16-year-old Ethan Waite falls in love with 15-year-old Lena Duchannes, who has just recently moved to her reclusive uncle's mansion, dubbed as the town's haunted house. The two fall in love against the wishes of their families. You see, Lena harbors a secret; she's a Caster (read: witch), one who'll be claimed either by the Dark or Light on her 16th birthday. Lena reveals this fact to Ethan, saying that Casters don't really have to say whether they they turn Dark or Light when they reach 16. Together, they attempt to find a way for Lena not to turn Dark. But in doing so, they unearth a family secret, one that involves two people from their families several generations ago and who were in a circumstance not unlike what Lena and Ethan are currently facing.

Frankly, I was prepared to toss the book in one corner after around 50 pages since I found the story too dragging, the narrative too slow, for my liking. Of course, I should've expected this pace from the novel since, after all, it is a Gothic novel. I do, however, have my doubts whether young adults have the patience to go through the novel's 550 pages if it isn't engaging at all. But thank goodness I persevered, for the novel somewhat picks up after 100 pages or so. When I reached the novel's second half, I could hardly put it down.

One of the reasons that I found the novel engaging is the set of characters that Garcia and Stohl came up with. Casters also have their special powers. To name a few: Sirens, who can persuade people to do stuff; Naturals, who can control the weather; Palimpsests, who can see different points in time; Shifters, who can change different objects into something else. The authors even throw in some supernatural characters as well such as Incubi and clairvoyants. But my favorite character would have to be the librarian, who runs both the town library and the library of the supernatural world.

Beautiful Creatures was a very surprising read. I've thought that the love angle would somehow seem similar to other supernatural romances in the YA genre. Both the characters of Lena and Ethan are refreshing; they act as any teenager would given the circumstances. Ethan is lovable because of his quirkiness and his curiosity. And I found myself empathic to Lena; her fish-out-of-water persona never goes overboard. If you found yourself being an outsider during your high school years, I'm sure you would be able to relate to Lena.

Beautiful Creatures was my last read for 2009. And I couldn't be more pleased to end the year with such a delightful novel. Garcia and Stohl are notable names to watch out for in the crowded genre that is YA supernatural fiction. Thankfully, I know that I'd be reading more from these two, since Beautiful Creatures ended with a not-so-subtle hint of a sequel. I'll be eagerly anticipating that one.

Read this book if:

1. You're fascinated with witches.
2. You felt different from the rest during high school.
3. You've never read a Southern Gothic novel.

I am loving this

I'm not one to recommend or write a review about a book I haven't even finished, much less gone halfway through. But for the past two days, I haven't been able to tear myself away from Wilkie Collins's sensational novel The Woman in White.

It's a doorstop of a novel, having more than 600 pages (not including the more than 100 pages that constitute the introduction and the afterword, which I had no plans of reading). I was expecting the novel to start out slow, but, much to my surprise, the plot had my interest right from the start.

If you're longing for a very atmospheric read, then The Woman in White is for you. It's also one of Collins's more famous sensational mystery novels. The novel has everything that I'm craving for right now -- a bit of a Gothic touch, a creepiness factor, family secrets, and a slightly convoluted plot. I just can't wait to finish it.

Wonderfully creepy stories

Mention Daphne du Maurier and novels such as Rebecca, My Cousin Rachel, and Jamaica Inn would come to mind. Du Maurier is best known for these novels that focus on how elements of the macabre and the gothic can find its way in ordinary lives. If you feel daunted by the weighty themes of these novels, then checking out du Maurier's short stories will prove rewarding. Her short fictional works are equally compelling and creepy.

The New York Review of Books has collected some of the best short stories by du Maurier in Don't Look Now. First-time readers of du Maurier will not be disappointed, as these stories are extremely satisfying. In fact, some of them have been adapted to the big screen by notable film makers such as Hitchcock, a director known to revel in the bizaare and the otherworldly. Hitchcock and du Maurier do make a perfect pair. Both are storytellers of the highest order, and both have established a reputation for coming up with nightmarish scenes from the quotidian.

The best short story in the collection is probably "Don't Look Now." Like her other fictional work, the aspect of clairvoyance figures prominently in it. In the story, an English couple's vacation in Venice takes a dark turn when an old woman tells the man's wife that their dead daughter is just seated between them. Much to the dismay of the husband, his wife takes an interest in the clairvoyant woman and her sister. These two spinsters even warn the couple to go back to England to avoid something bad happening to them, but it is only the woman who goes back. What happens to her husband in the end has to be read to be fully appreciated. I won't give it away here naturally. It's just too creepy.

"Don't Look Now" was adapted into the big screen in 1974.
It featured Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland.

Another notable short story is "The Birds," which was adapted by Hitchcock in a movie of the same title. Du Maurier was very unhappy with Hitchcock's adaptation and she should be. The director changed the setting from the rustic province in the short story to the big city in the movie. If you saw the movie, you know that there's no reason offered as to why the birds just kept violently attacking people. In du Maurier's story, a family gets trapped in their boarded-up home to stay away from these avian attacks. You feel a sense of claustrophobia and anxiety as you read how the family take their meals while they hear the birds furiously clawing their way in their house.

There's also a short ghost story in the collection. In "The Escort," a British warship encounters a fellow British sea vessel who offers to serve as its marine escort on its way to friendly shores. "Split Second" has a Twilight Zone feel to it. In this story, a woman decides to take a short walk and returns to her home only to find out that there are strangers living in her house. In these stories, you clearly see how du Maurier is in her element as she explores the supernatural.

There are other stories about the macabre in this collection which are surely worth losing oneself in. The story entitled "The Blue Lenses" is about a woman who sees animal heads on people after undergoing a lens replacement surgery. The type of animal a person has somehow serves as a reflection on the person's true character. Her nurse, whom she has always trusted, reveals as someone with the head of a viper; her husband, on the other hand, has a vulture's head. "Monte Verità," the last story of the collection, tells of an ancient pagan cult residing in one of Europe's less-explored mountains.

There's something for every one in Don't Look Now. Du Maurier also manages to inject humor into these stories. Her writing may be too cinematic for some people, with each scene carefully plotted and detailed. But these just make her storytelling talents superb but highly accessible. Perhaps this is the reason some critics scoff at her oeuvre, stating that her bestseller status does not speak well of her literary chops. Nevertheless, these stories are entertaining and will surely delight fans of fantastic and gothic literature.

Read this book if:

1. You have a taste for the macabre.
2. You want to be surprised at the end of each story.
3. You just want a good, old-fashioned gothic tale that you can read at night.