The Mysteries of Udolpho (Oxford World's Classics)

I have been intrigued by this novel for years, but I only knew Udolpho by reputation until I finally read the novel recently. Many studies of Gothic fiction cite Radcliffe's novel as a classic Gothic text, one of the early examples that set the standard for the genre as we now think of it. Scholars of the Female Gothic subgenre in particular point to Udolpho as an early example, mostly due to Emily St. Aubert's perfect turn as the helpless female heroine who became a stock character in early Gothic fiction. Then, of course, I read Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey in a college seminar and imagined Udolpho to be a laugh-worthy, melodramatic, fake horror fest. I can't say there aren't any laughable moments (Emily's poems), or that there isn't melodrama (lots of fainting; the parting scene between Emily and Valancourt at the end of Volume I), or even that there isn't some fake horror (all of the "mysteries" are explained by the novel's close); however, Radcliffe's novel defied my expectations in more ways than it reaffirmed them.The Oxford World's Classics edition with the introduction by Terry Castle is the only edition I've read, but I recommend it particularly because of the introduction, which I found very interesting and insightful after finishing the novel. One point that Castle makes is that despite the novel's Gothic label, Udolpho is more like "a disconcerting textual hybrid." The multi-generic nature of the novel is one of the features that most surprised me; it takes quite a while for Emily to become imprisoned in Udolpho and what precedes her time there is almost anti-Gothic. Emily has perfect parents and the perfect upbringing, though she begins to suffer relatively early on when her mother dies. After this point, she and her father embark on a long trip across France, described at length by Radcliffe in what Castle terms "a bizarre quasi-travelogue." Here we get super-detailed descriptions of natural scenery and of the innate goodness of the St. Aubert clan. Yes, some of the nature described could be filed under "sublime," and such descriptions are standard in many Gothic texts. They are also standard in many Romantic texts, and while the overlap between those two genres/movements is significant, for some reason the Gothic has been viewed as the dark, popular (ew!) sibling of the (maybe) sunnier (self-satisfied?), high-art-producing Romanticism. While the St. Auberts' innocence and goodness make them prime targets for our evil Italian villains (Montoni, primarily), they do spend a lot of their time happily exploring nature, and even after several tragedies befall her and dampen her spirits (and make her faint a lot), Emily is relatively cheerful at times. In other words, the mood is not always Gothic in the novel; indeed, it's probably Gothic less often than it is something else. And then besides the travel narrative, there are also those poems that Emily composes on a whim, about sea nymphs and weary travelers. Radcliffe also incorporates excerpts from poetry into her prose, along with lines from Shakespeare plays, and she begins each chapter with epigraphs from other works. I think that in many ways, the mixing of genres in the novel ultimately makes it a more interesting and more complex text.Udolpho is a very long novel (almost 700 pages), but, as an insanely popular best-seller in the late 18th century, Radcliffe's work was apparently quite a page-turner. Even Austen's Henry Tilney admits that after hijacking his younger sister's copy of the novel, he "could not lay down again; I remember finishing it in two days--my hair standing on end the whole time." For modern readers, there's not going to be much in Udolpho that is particularly scary, but Radcliffe does create suspense by introducing mysterious plot elements and not resolving those elements for, literally, hundreds of pages. But because all of those elements are, indeed, resolved, and any potentially supernatural phenomena are explained away, the novel isn't really about scaring the reader at all. Instead, we are invited to witness, as many other reviewers have noted, the coming-of-age of the heroine, as she struggles to overcome her passion and superstition to live a life governed by reason and logic. At the same time, however, I agree with Castle that Radcliffe aims "to reawaken in her readers a sense of the numinous - of invisible forces at work in the world." These forces are not exactly supernatural, though; instead, "Radcliffe represents the human mind itself as a kind of supernatural entity." In this sense, Udolpho is truly a Gothic classic as a result of its interest not in mysterious external forces, but in the way in which the human mind registers such forces, and how it attempts to understand and work through them. The Gothic's preoccupation with human psychology is more often-commented on in response to American Gothic works like Poe's short stories or Female Gothic classics like Gilman's "The Yellow Wallpaper," but I see this as a primary interest of Radcliffe's in Udolpho, as well.I have given the novel five stars, which reflects my personal enjoyment of the work and my interest in the themes and issues it raises for a reader. It will probably be most well-loved by those interested in Gothic fiction, literature by women, and those who are enamored by lengthy, patient, meticulously-detailed narratives. As a fan of all of those things, I recommend the novel and its introduction very highly.

I will not review Ann Radcliffe's novel, because I assume anyone purchasing this already knows about the mysteries of Udolpho's popularity. Jane Austen certainly couldn't figure out why people liked this novel, and, at this great a remove, I find myself as puzzled. No: the review is of the Amazon Fire/ e-text of the Penguin edition. First, the text is clear, with no typographical or editorial mistakes, and the text was set from the last edition Radcliffe saw through the presses. Second, the text is absolutely devoid of critical apparatus. There are neither glosses nor historical emendations to help contemporary readers with this strange text.Nothing helps readers place the author or composition historically (just at the French Revolution). Nothing helps place the text's tearful romance of the Ancient Regime in a political context as anti-Jacobin. Nothing helps readers understand what a "romance" was. Nothing explains the sentimental novel, which is one of the genres Radcliffe is grafting. Nothing explains why a passive heroine who weeps and obeys and weeps some more would be attractive even as an audience stand-in or moral deadweight against which peril could play. Presenting this novel as a bare e-text is the equivalent of charging for a Project Gutenberg volunteer work.

I was about to embark on another reading of "Northanger Abbey," when I decided, why not read the book so often referred to in that novel?So I picked up "The Mysteries of Udolpho" instead, and am thrilled that I did. Not only did it make my subsequent reading of "Northanger Abbey" much more lively, I was as captivated by "Udolpho" as Catherine Moreland was herself, who says in "Northanger," "Oh! I am delighted with the book! I should like to spend my whole life in reading it."What I loved so much more than the Gothic terrors was Radcliffe's descriptions of sublime scenery and her description of its impact on her heroine. Emily is full of sensibility and her life brims over with misfortune, but her sensitivity to the grandeur around her maintains its heightened energy no matter what catastrophes befall her.Although I had to periodically put the book down (one isn't always in the mood) it will stand forever in my mind as an example of a high mark of civilization.

In terms of understanding the evolution of the gothic genre, this is a must read. Particularly so because Jane Austen's 'Northanger Abbey' was written as a parody of the gothic novel and specifically refers to scenes in 'Udolpho'. Consequently in terms of understanding what Austen was trying to do with 'Northanger Abbey' - i.e. emphasise how lurid the genre was and how a reliance on such salacious fiction is detrimental to a person's intelligence - it is worthwhile reading. However, it should be noted that Radcliffe's novel is by no means an easy read. This is mainly due to the fact it spans nearly 500 pages. As such, it can be tedious and interminable. Even reviewers at the time said that a little editing might have been worth thinking about, and this is an audience that would have been used to the door stopper, 3-volume novel! The text is well-annotated by Terry Castle. For references that are unclear to a modern reader, there are explanatory foot notes at the back of the novel and there is also a good introduction, which includes one of my favourite quotes from a critic: 'In terms of catharsis, a modern reader might prefer Prozac to 'Udolpho'. This is an extremely good edition as it makes a heavy going text as accessible as possible. As such, I would class it as suitable for students as well as general reader who are up for a challenge.

After having read the mere 176-page original gothic tale of 1764, Horace Walpole's "The Castle of Otranto", I embarked on this 672-page equally-famous gothic fantasy by Ann Radcliffe, published thirty years later, and a best-selling literary phenomenon of its day.The opening of Terry Castle's incisive introduction to the work notes that, "Perhaps no work in the history of English fiction has been more often caricatured." It is supposed to be "the greatest (or at least the most famous) of gothic romances ... has an archetypal `gothic villain' ... is loaded with exotic scenery ... [and] its heroine, a victim of `sensibility', faints a lot." But whilst common opinion may see it as "a bit of a `silly' book too", the conscientious reader must actually "feel a twinge of bad faith"; Udolpho is actually "bigger, baggier and more uncanny than one thought it was." This is so true.Whilst not denying a strong gothic element in the writing, the book is also a travelogue, a morality tale, a commentary on manners, and even a comedy of errors; just like Shakespeare, the servants provide a focus for humour, and Radcliffe is not even averse to parody herself as well as the tale she tells. Indeed, one can even view the novel as a typical Jane Austen romance - a woman, her marriage options, and the descent of landed property feature heavily in the plot - but this time set on the continent and in a gothic milieu; Jane Austen even drew on some of the scenes for her `Northanger Abbey' of 1818. But Terry Castle draws attention to the title of the novel, namely the `mysteries' of Udolpho. Thus one can add to the long list of genres set out above, even that of an Agatha Christie murder-mystery, a product of the new age of enlightenment when old-style superstitious mystery was replaced by its more reasoned newcomer, although "Radcliffe's supposedly `rational' explanations are at times almost more implausible than the supernatural explanations they are meant to displace."Whilst the consensus about the book's merits might be overwhelmingly negative - "too long, feeble in characterisation ... lacking in moral or intellectual gravitas ... [and] full of absurdities" - a closer examination reveals "a meticulous stylist ... who can create moments of considerable drama". Indeed, the style of writing is worthy of remark. The book is full of long sentences, often beautifully constructed. The book must be read at a stately pace to accord with the natural breath of the author's rhythm. Did she speak in this way, or are the construction of sentences designed so as to be read aloud within family groups as they sat before the fire on cold, dark, late-eighteenth century evenings? This style can lead to artifice, and the excessive number of commas can be exasperating on occasions.There are whole chapters of descriptive prose about the sublime effects of the natural landscape. These are of more value than mere curiosity; the author writes very well with a sharp eye for detail. Terry Castle sagely compares her prose in this regard to the landscapes paintings of Salvatore Rosa, Poussin and Claude Lorraine that Radcliffe admired. This is all the more amazing, as she never visited the places she describes in such detail, but sees them through the eyes of fancy. Actually, she saw them through the eyes of the likes of Tobias Smollett and Hester Thrale Piozzi whose travel books she greatly relied upon. Geographically, the novel forms an arc: volume one is set in Gascony and Languedoc; volume two in Venice and Udolpho; volume three in Udolpho and Tuscany; and volume four back in Gascony and Languedoc.Ostensibly set in the year 1584, the book is imbued with the manners and sensibilities of genteel England of 1794. For this reason, I found it convenient to forego imagining a strict rendition of time and place. Whilst the number of precise factual anachronisms is small, they are nevertheless difficult to ignore; they include such items as coffee drinking, the names of English poets, the use of knives and forks, the wearing by ladies of certain hats, and the naming of rooms as `saloons'. Moreover, the description afforded to the city of Venice is more akin to the 1780s, or what Terry Castle in her introduction describes as "the elegant Venice of Canaletto and Goldoni", rather than that of the 1580s and the city of Tintoretto and Monteverdi. There is very little character development. Indeed, there is very little character at all, since the novel revolves almost entirely around our heroine Emily. People come into her life and then leave only when they have some part to play in Emily's story. Even her dog, who appears to be her constant companion in all her travels, appears a mere two or three occasions in order to heighten tension or play a minor part in Emily's experiences: on his second appearance, as our heroine seeks to escape from the castle in which she is held, the dog's yapping threatens to disclose her position, but I had by then even forgotten the dog's very existence, so notably absent had his presence become.So, what is this novel to be? A gothic romance? Travelogue? Morality tale? Commentary on manners or comedy of errors? Or enlightenment mystery? Why, all of the above, of course. But in a twist of blazing insight, perhaps Terry Castle is right to recommend this book for 21st century readers as a precursor of Freud's work on the unconscious, for "like a long and complex dream - the kind in which pleasure and apprehension are so closely intermingled as to become indistinguishable - the book repays imaginative introspection." When Radcliffe writes halfway through her novel that, the heroine "blamed herself for suffering her romantic imagination to carry her so far beyond the bounds of probability, and determined to endeavour to check its rapid flights, lest they should sometimes extend into madness", she is warning the incautious reader too.The usual high standards of the Oxford University Press's World's Classics editions are upheld in this volume. Not only the introduction, but also the standard textual note, select bibliography, chronology and end-notes all appear to guide and enhance the experience. As with all reprints of classic works of literature, I recommend that the so-called introduction (which is really more of a commentary) is best read after the novel.

Really enjoying the story, but there is rather a lot of detail and repetition.

Excellent read - if you enjoy gothic fiction. A tangible, dark, dangerous and romantic world is created, like a Kasper David Friedrich painting, come to life

Masterpiece.