How to talk about this novel? Well, it is one of the titles given in a list of "horrid novels" in Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, and though it's the last novel listed, it's my third read out of the seven given. And if you're saying, "But Rosa, there's no book titled The Genius on that list," that's true. The novel, originally written for a German audience in 1791, was released in England in 1798 under a different title, and the one used in Northanger Abbey is that name: Horrid Mysteries.
Trying to find a way to read this was, as with The Necromancer: A Tale of the Black Forest, a bit of an adventure (and not really worth all the effort it took, to be quite honest, but what can you do?) I found a copy of the book on Hoopla, and, as with The Necromancer, discovered after I started reading it that it was only an extract of the book. Unlike the previous work, however, this one was the entirety of the third volume (of which there are four volumes in total). When I first started reading it, I just thought the story was starting in media res, which would have been confusing for a bit, but would have been an interesting start for a Gothic novel. But when I read a review here on Goodreads, I saw that the particular edition that was offered by Hoopla was only a portion of the story. (I should have realized this because the version of The Necromancer I originally tried to read was from the same publisher and also the only one Hoopla offered in that case.) So then I had to search online for either a free or, barring that, a cheap copy of the novel. Thankfully, after about an hour I discovered that Google books offered all 4 books (released over two volumes) for free. So volumes I, II, and IV are read via Google books, and Volume III was read using Hoopla (though the ReadRead edition Hoopla offers was not corrected for typos brought over from the different type faces, so what were stylized "s" letters in the original manuscript were printed as "f" letters in that rendition and so if you read that one, just know that if something doesn't make sense, you probably need to make a mental correction on the lettering.
As to the work itself, this book is what you get when a man who believes in the power of his own Big D**k Energy is left to write his own memoirs. Now, some of my distaste for the main character has to do with my distaste for the patriarchal trends of the time (the late 18th century), but some of it just that I didn't like this man at all. I can appreciate the "bros before hoes" mentality cos I definitely am a "chicks before dicks" sort of gal, but this man assumes all women who love a man who isn't her husband is morally wrong, but it's not morally wrong for a man to sequester his wife in a cloister so he can go out to another country for a year and make a mistress of another man's wife. And in that situation, the other man's wife was in the wrong, but it was not wrong for the man to seduce said notably married woman.
It may be of the times, but it's patriarchal bullshit and after 400+ pages, I was more than ready to be done with it.
What I did like to ruminate on was why Jane Austen decided to include it on her list because there's not a lot about it that fits in the gothic romance genre. I will point out that there are *some* elements present: Don Carlos's first love Elmira seemingly dies on their wedding trip only to turn again twice later (though one of those women turns out to be an imposter, though it's never explained how or why she turned up); twice there are mysterious rites performed in order to be inducted into "the organization," which Don Carlos spends half of his time following as a devoted member and the rest of the time feeling victimized by them, depending on what the plot needs him to feel at any given time; three times Don Carlos is wandering through the wilderness and happens upon a cottage for sanctuary at just the right moment and all three times receives a hail mary message that saves his life not long after; there are mentions of people wandering around outside with lanterns doing mysterious deeds (which are never explained); Don Carlos's friends force themselves upon Don Carlos's love interests and then the women are always blamed for it in the end (the only difference being that in most Gothic Romance novels the woman accused is our heroine and therefore a paragon of virtue and innocence and the hero is always proved vindicated in his choice of love and that's not the case here.) In truth, most of the true "Gothic Romance" elements are in Volume I, and after that show up only for about ten pages in each volume of II-IV.
But that takes up maybe 60 pages out of 440. The rest of it consists of random discussions about philosophy (which is not without its merits), Don Carlos falling in love with virtually every pretty woman he meets and being universally adored by every village or landowning friend he comes across. Until that inevitable moment when the inamorata or spouse of one said landowning friend declares her love for Don Carlos instead and then said friendship would be on the rocks until said woman would end up dying of some disease or forced into a cloister for her "melancholic temperament." Gosh, I wanted to castrate this man so many times. If I wasn't a raging feminist before, I would be converted now.
But why did Austen include this? That was the fun thought experiment I had while working my way through these never ending 4 volumes. I had two theories. 1) This list is given by Isabella Thorpe, the world's most famous fake friend. It wouldn't surprise me at all if, in order to ingratiate herself into intimacies with Catherine she merely went around the library in Bath and wrote down the names of certain volumes that she then pretended to have read. After all, aside from the fact that all the men in this novel suck, there's nothing much that's truly "horrid" about this novel. The other option was that Austen listed all seven books with particular trends of each in mind. After all, all 3 of the 7 that I've read so far have been certain "forms" of Gothic Romance. The Necromancer focused on spectres and thieves (like a late 18th century Scooby Doo story) and The Orphan of the Rhine was like a hodgepodge of everything a newbie to the genre would expect to read in a Gothic Romance if all they had heard about was general trends -- women abducted away to distant castles and forced into nunneries and corruption within the Church and long sojourns in secret cottages in the wood for moral instruction, and the innocence of women as a virtue to be prized above all else...and of ghosts that turn out, in the end, to not be ghosts.
This form of Gothic Romance is about a man who goes about crying all the time (a lamentable trend among the heroes of the genre) and occasionally finding himself subject to the whims of a somewhat *mystical and all knowing* organization that meets in grottoes and in the woods.
While this particular story (and possibly this trend of Gothic Romance) wasn't at all to my taste, I do look forward to seeing what trends I come across in my next read of the seven, whatever that turns out to be.