One of the most interesting phenomena in the history of literature, the Gothic novel — which flourished from about 1765 to 1825 — still has much to offer to the modern reader. Supernatural thrills, adventure and suspense, colorful settings, and, in the better examples, literary quality are all present. Unfortunately, true Gothic novels (not simply modern detective stories called "Gothic") are extremely rare books, and have never been as available as they should be.The first member in this collection, Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto , published as a Christmas book for 1764, was the first and one of the greatest members of the genre. It has also been one of the most influential books in history. It motivated the Gothic revival in the arts, and it probably did more to usher in the early-19th-century Romanticism than any other single work. It also served as the model in plot, characterizations, settings, and tone for hundreds, perhaps thousands of successors. Vathek , by the eccentric British millionaire William Beckford, is generally considered to be the high point of the Oriental tale in English literature. Certainly no one has ever written (in any European tongue) a story which better unifies the stirrings of Gothic romanticism with the color, poetry, and vivacity of the original Arabian Nights .The third novel in this collection, John Polidor's Vampyre , emerged from the same soirées of ghost-story telling in Geneva that produced Mary Shelley's Frankenstein . The first full-length vampire story in English, it initiated a very important literary chain that also leads up to the present. Included with Polidori's novel is Lord Byron's little-known Fragment, from which Polidori (who was Byron's physician in Switzerland) plagiarized his plot.These three novels (and the fragment) are still well worth reading. Generations of readers have found thrills and horrors in Walpole's fine work, while Vathek cannot be excelled in its unusual mixture of the bizarre, cruel irony, and masterful narration. Polidori's thriller still conveys chills, and the Fragment makes us all wish that Byron had completed his novel.
Everett Franklin Bleiler (April 30, 1920 – June 13, 2010) (see also Everett F. Bleiler) was an editor, bibliographer, and scholar of science fiction, detective fiction, and fantasy literature. In the late 1940s and early 1950s, he co-edited the first "year's best" series of science fiction anthologies, and his Checklist of Fantastic Literature has been called "the foundation of modern SF bibliography". Among his other scholarly works are two Hugo Award–nominated volumes concerning early science fiction—Science-Fiction: The Early Years and Science-Fiction: The Gernsback Years—and the massive Guide to Supernatural Fiction.
Bleiler worked at Dover Publications from 1955, becoming executive vice-president of the company from 1967 until he left the company in 1977; he then worked for Charles Scribner's Sons until 1987. He edited a number of ghost story collections for Dover, containing what the genre historian Mike Ashley has described as "detailed and exemplary introductions".
Bleiler received the Pilgrim Award for lifetime achievement in science fiction scholarship in 1984, the World Fantasy Award for Life Achievement in 1988, the First Fandom Hall of Fame award in 1994, and the International Horror Guild Living Legend award in 2004.
Bleiler wrote two works of fiction: the fantasy novel Firegang: A Mythic Fantasy (2006), set in the tree of Yggdrasil as well as moving across time and space, and Magistrate Mai and the Invisible Murderer (2006), a detective story set in ancient China, similar to the work of Robert Van Gulik.
Bleiler's son, Richard, is also a science fiction historian and assisted his father on several of his works.
THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO is regarded as the first Gothic novel and has probably been pored over by bored students everywhere in every semester that passes by on God's green earth. Much has been said about it, by much better brains than mine, so I thought I'd reserve this review to my particular reasons for reading it (and the orientalist nightmare that is VATHEK). As a long time fan of the horror/supernatural genre, but also as an avid reader with wide-ranging tastes, I've set myself the task of exploring the various literary byways that helped create and influence my favorite form. The past few years I've dabbled in the Fantastique (the brilliant Hoffmann and Gautier) and read extensively (still reading extensively) from the Decadents (also great stuff). I knew I had a rendezvous in my future with these two touchstones of the Gothic Novel THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO and VATHEK (FRANKENSTEIN, JANE EYRE and WUTHERING HEIGHTS were dispatched long ago). Well, that appointment was recently kept.
OTRANTO is a very straightforward tale - there is a prophecy that the Castle and Lordship of Otranto will be lost to their present holder when the real owner has "grown too large to inhabit it". The present Prince of Otranto is Manfred and his son is about to be married off at the start of the story, until a giant helmet falls from the sky, crushing him. Manfred attempts to divorce his wife and make a move on his son's intended betrothed (shocking a painting of his ancestor, who looks down upon the sordid scene, to such a degree that said ancestor walks out of the frame and leaves the room), which engenders more mystery, intrigue and the manifestation of giant, ghostly arms and legs throughout the castle. A mysterious stranger helps the almost-wed princess to escape, a group of silent knights arrive, monks blither, there are chases and accusations and a bit of the old supernatural "kick-up-the-backside" to another character who has been charged with avenging a death (after he strays a bit from his intended goal, he is upbraided by the ghost of a rotting monk, which must have really chilled the blood of the late-18th century reader, as it actually framed as a movie cliche - a dramatic turn to the camera moment!). Mysterious bloodlines, unruly rulers and much heavings of bosoms abound. It all works out tragically but, also, benignly for *most* of the participants (Manfred's son - poor, bland Conrad, will remain throughout the history of literature nothing but a smear in a courtyard with no character to speak of, except the detail that his intended wife didn't relish the marriage much). Worth reading? Well, the giant, ghostly manifestations are certainly intriguing (I love the fact that the initial appearance of the prophecy is a giant helmet inexplicably falling from the sky, its so mythic and absurd at the same time, like something from MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL) but, while I have a passingly strong tolerance for older writing styles, this did tend to drag a bit - there's some exciting moments and the ghostly stuff is pretty cool (I've told you pretty much all of it, though). The attempts at "humor", which were criticized even at the time and which Walpole defends in one of the many introductions reproduced here, are extremely broad - but I do admit to wearing a wry grin during an extended sequence when evil, fuming Manfred attempts to pump a servant girl, the bubbly Bianca, for information, only to have his efforts thwarted by her amazing ability to turn every conversation around or set it in a different direction altogether. Overall, though, OTRANTO could be missed (but a perusal of the beginning and ending wouldn't hurt you).
Not so, VATHEK. William Beckford, the author, was an impossibly rich Englishman (his father, possibly the richest man in England, died when he was nine, bequeathing him everything. But young William had no taste for business and much taste for indolence, indulgence and an Orientalism derived from THE ARABIAN NIGHTS). VATHEK is a sprawling tale of an impossibly powerful Caliph, his black magician of a mother, and his quest for unlimited power that causes him to stray from Allah and straight into the arms of Eblis (the Muslim Devil). There is much ornate, gushing, detail (how could it be Orientalist without such unshackled overabundance?) - many lovingly described banquets, extensive collections of jewelry, scads of nubile houris, endless ablutions, dwarfs, eunuchs, and much perfidious witchery involving jinns, demons, "abominable drugs", and blood sacrifices (plus, many mummies are burned, I kid you not!). The middle section, in which Vathek gets waylaid while his entire retinue is on its way to claim his satanic prize for the murder of 50 children, gets bogged down a bit in a strange love story side street, but even that has a few entertaining moments involving a faked death. It all ends in Hell, which was pretty inescapable as an outcome from the start, but is still oddly moving. There are extensive footnotes as well, which I haven;t finished reading, I admit. Is VATHEK worth reading? Certainly, if you like the time period or want some fantasy with less of a medieval flavor and more of a "desert sands and minarets" feel.
The third piece featured here is John Polidori's "The Vampyre" and the Byron fragment he seemingly lifted it from. The Polidori is a historical footnote only - I read it years ago and have barely a memory of it. The Byron is perhaps only worth noting in relation to what Polidori did with it.
So that's it - a bunch of cheap Gothic from Dover. Dig in if its your flavor.
"Otranto" was ridiculous but I found it compulsively readable. "Vathek" was funny and erudite but interminable. Thank you, Polidori: you were a weird little man but without "The Vampyre" we wouldn't have "Dracula," since I don't think Byron's fragment would have been sufficient to spark the vampire craze on its own. Nor do I think he would ever have got back to it: he might not have even bothered to publish the fragment if Polidori hadn't gone ahead and published "The Vampyre."
I enjoyed reading this compilation, and salute the late Mr. Bleiler for his usual excellent editorship.
John Polidori: The Vampyre: a Tale (1819) and a Fragment of a Novel by Lord Byron (1816)
in Three Gothic Novels (edited by E F Bleiler) Dover 1966
Buttressed by an editor's introduction, the author's own introduction, an extract from a later letter to Polidori's publisher, and Byron's original vampire tale fragment, this -- the first completed modern vampire story in English -- already contains many of the clichés now expected from the genre. Here is the pale nobleman with a dark secret, and here the young female victims; not unexpected is the vampire's resurrection after death and the connection with Eastern Europe and the Levant.
But you can forget any mentions of bats, sinister castles or pointy teeth, though there are allusions to stakes, peasant huts, antiquarian structures and blood all over a victim's neck and breast. Whether these are enough to summon up a vicarious thrill in the reader will really depend on how much one empathises with the characters depicted and the degree to which one is susceptible or immune to High Gothick style and sensibility.
The two main protagonists are "a young gentleman of the name of Aubrey" and the mysterious Lord Ruthven; the first is comfortably wealthy from a fortune left by his deceased parents to him and his 17 year old sister, while the latter is a magnet to society women despite the fact that few knew whether "he ever addressed himself to women." Aubrey's fascination with Lord Ruthven leads him to embark on a cultural tour of Europe in his company, a trip which leads to the violent death of a young Greek girl, Ianthe, Aubrey's debilitating illness and the unwelcome reappearances of Lord Ruthven after an estrangement between the two men.
When, back in England, the convalescing Aubrey discovers his sister is to marry the suspected vampire, he finds he is powerless to stop the union due to an ill-advised promise, and the novella reaches its inevitable conclusion.
Quite frankly, as a horror story The Vampyre is tame by modern standards but our interest lies chiefly in its being the prototype, as well as in our knowing the circumstances of its origins. Byron's personal physician John Polidori (who was present during that momentous ghost story session in Switzerland in 1816 which led to Mary Shelley writing Frankenstein) composed this vampire tale based -- as publicists might say -- on an idea by Byron. It proved hugely influential in the 19th-century, spawning a prodigious number of translations, plays and adaptations, no doubt partly down to the publisher's claim that the author was Byron himself, despite Polidori's and Byron's angry rebuttals. The inclusion here of Byron's own fragmentary outline shows clearly the themes that were original to Byron and the changes that Polidori made in narrative and details to differentiate the two versions.
What's not in question is how much Polidori personalised The Vampyre before publication. First, the Greek girl is called Ianthe; originally this would have been the name of a nymph from Greek myth, but it also happens to be the name of the daughter (Ianthe Elizabeth, born 1813) of Percy Bysshe Shelley and Harriet, the wife he'd abandoned in England to elope with Mary Godwin.
Secondly, the name of the vampire Lord Ruthven was taken directly from a figure in Lady Caroline Lamb's novel Glenarvon (1816): Lady Caroline had had an affair with Byron in 1812 and her portrait of the fictional Lord Ruthven was commonly known to be based on her former lover. By borrowing Ruthven's name for his vampire the volatile Polidori (who by now had fallen out with Byron) was quite obviously referring to his former 'patient' as a serial adulterer who left ruined women in his wake and who betrayed his friends' trust.
Lady Caroline famously characterised Byron as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know," and the same could be said of the vampires who partook of the legacy of Polidori's Lord Ruthven. It's a shame that we are disproportionately indebted to Bram Stoker's late 19th-century novel Dracula for our vampire memes, because the Byron-Polidori model has much to recommend it. But neither man was the originator of course; as Polidori's introduction emphasises, "The superstition upon which this tale is founded is very general in the East," concluding that the term vampyre is not the only one and that
"there are several others synonymous with it, made use of it in several parts of the world: as Vroucolocha, Vardoulacha, Goul, Broucoloka, &c."
Polidori took these details from Byron's notes in the poet's The Giaour: A Fragment of a Turkish Tale which had already appeared in print, in 1813, and from which he quotes a passage in verse in his introduction. The Vroucolocha or vourdoulakas is an old Balkan term for a werewolf, but it appears that over time vampires and werewolves had become almost assimilated in this corner of Europe.
The curse of the vampire is unfortunately still very much with us, and I don't mean merely the psychic kind: we are all too aware of those modern Bluebeards who prey on women, thereby condemning them to a form of living death. As with Ruthven we have to persist in calling them out whatever their rank, whether or not they use that pernicious modern equivalent of an gentleman's oath, the Non-Disclosure Agreement.
Byron's fragment is not without interest: along with the points of similarity come differences -- the action concludes not in Greece or London but on the Mediterranean coast of present Turkey, near Izmir; the narrative is told in the first person rather than Polidori's third person telling; and the vampire's name, Augustus Darvell, is a none too subtle hint at something devilish.
I didn’t read all the stories (I just needed to read Castle of Otranto). Otranto is a fun story but very silly and the prose is amateurish. It’s an interesting read from the historical perspective as this book and others like it ushered in the Gothic Revival and helped develop the early Gothic/Horror genre, but there’s no reason to read this unless you’re studying old gothic works. I started on Vathek but the plot was even more ridiculous, I wouldn’t necessarily consider it Gothic, and there was something problematic as hell on just about every page. I stopped about 30 pages in because my disgust outweighed my academic interest but I may revisit this book eventually to check out the other two selections: The Vampyre and a fragment from Byron.
This is an interesting anthology of three of the first Gothic Novels ever published. (‘The Castle’ is considered the very first in this genre.) It was a great start my quest to explore Gothic literature and develop my understanding, and indeed writing, in this genre. I will happily return to these tales again.
There are three distinct introductions to each novel, although the three introductions are set at the start of the book, rather than alongside the corresponding story. These give insight to the life of the author, the development of the story and the influence thereafter. The greatest detail is given into the opening introduction to ‘The Castle’ and Horace Walpole as the trigger novel to the Gothic genre I found most interesting and indeed is the largest of the introductions. ‘The Castle’ is also accompanied by a preface by the author himself, which is another interesting – if slightly tangential – insight.
Each of the three stories take a different approach to the genre, and offer a fascinating insight to the history.
Only one – ‘The Castle’ – has a truly gothic setting, in a dramatic castle with dark and gloomy subterranean passages and stormy clouds. The society is limited to the medieval occupants of the castle and visiting knights. The others have a much more social setting, and involve considerable travel, in the warmth and light – and indeed seeming paradise - of the East (which I understand in this work to be the Middle East, as opposed to the Orient of China), and the other largely in Greece, with various upper class society events.
All have supernatural elements, either ghostly apparitions, vampires or religious and anti-religious visitations.
‘The Castle’ tells the story of a Prince-ship, where the Royal family are unknowingly facing the resolution of a prophecy with historic promises made to St Nicholas coming to pass. ‘Vathek’ follows the story of a good caliph who is corrupted by his curiosity and goes on a quest prompted by a ‘devil’. ‘The Vampyre’ follows the tumultuous emotions of a naive Englishman and his relationship with an aloof and enigmatic colleague.
It is interesting, ‘The Castle’ to me is more of a tragic romance than the horror story I have come to think of as Gothic, whereas The Vampyre has the darker elements, despite the brighter setting, and Vathek is quite a moralistic tale.
Because these novels are all written between the late 1750s and 1819, the writing style is a bit of a challenge to read. Some of this is the blending of the dialogue into the paragraphs and formatting, some of it is the language. As such, I wasn’t quite as emotionally involved – particularly with Vathek – as I am with contemporary novels. But I did enjoy them, especially ‘The Castle’. All of the novels focused more on the characters and the activity than providing a definitive description of the place and setting, though ‘The Castle’ as having a singular setting was far more place orientated.
Originally read this as part of a Gothic novel class thirtysome year ago.
The Walpole story is an enjoyable piece of Romantic-period trash. Denizens of the titular Castle are disturbed by manifestations of a giant helmet, a giant leg, and so forth. A knight arrives with a giant sword to match. Characters are variouly revealed to be former nobility or the children of nobility, women enter convents since they don't have the right to vote, and so on.
Vathek chronicles the downfall of a Caliph, as he gets seduced from a life of simple material luxury to the pursuit of occult knowledge. All for the most part a bit silly, as Beckford's limited imagination did not allow him to conceive of truly horrific or diabolical acts. The downfall at the end, while rushed, is quite striking - though apparently Beckford stole the depiction from a preceding work.
Polidori, better known as "the other one" at the party-of-four that resulted in the writing of Frankenstein, contributes a vampire tale which will disappoint fans of the genre, but still has its interesting moments. There is perhaps some unintended humor in the naive rich boy who befriends a man noted for ruining the lives of naive rich boys, but what is unique in this story is the charming-yet-evil character of the vampyre himself. Lord Ruthven refuses charity to those in need, but grants it to those in seed, as it were: the drunkard or gambler or prostitute was certain of his generosity. Yet he spurned their company, preferring instead the innocent and naive, whose lives he took great delight in ruining - always by association, leading them astray rather than working directly to destroy them. The fact that Polidori does so little with this characterization (based, purportedly, on his association with Lord Byron) is not surprising, but one would expect it to crop up in the one or two vampire novels written in the centuries since.
Lord Byron's fragment ... goes nowhere and says nothing. It's clear "The Vampyre" stole a pivotal scene from this fragment, but it's not clear that Byron had in mind anything as ambitious as Polodori's tale.
This 1966 Dover edition includes The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole (1811), Vathek by William Beckford (1893), The Vampyre by John Polidori (1819), (, and a fragment by Lord Byron. There is a very informative introduction by the editor giving historical and biographical facts about all these influential works. The Castle of Otranto “has been called one of the half-dozen most important novels in English.” Page xiii. And of course Polidori’s Vampyre is “probably the first extensive Vampire story in English…model for many later developments.” (page xxxix.) though it was based upon Byron’s unfinished story of the same name. The Castle of Otranto’s Gothic castle setting and tale of tragic love is interesting enough and still holds up fairly well despite the old-fashioned language. The story of Vathek An Arabian Text, on the other hand, is just ICKY! Extremely unpleasant characters, essentially plotless with endless details of the Caliph’s hedonistic lifestyle it is just not worth the read. Polidori’s short vampire story will seem somewhat vague or truncated compared to later iterations (such as that by Bram Stoker) as is also Byron’s short five page unfinished fragment which contains the mere bare bones of a story idea.
Five stars for Walpole and Byron, fewer for Polidori. "The Vampyre" humbly, but barely, redeems itself from its plagiarized beginnings, but it's remarkably obvious from the snippet that Byron's talent was superior. I am not mad at the doctor for taking it and running with it.
I enjoyed "Otranto" more than I should have based on other reviews here. I'll admit it wasn't the best writing, but it was suspenseful and comical and spooky in all the right places. Having just read Radcliffe's "Udolpho," which bored me silly, I'll take giant helmets that fall from the sky, thanks.
As few stars as is polite for Vathek, one of the worst things I've read in 10 years. I'm certainly no literary scholar but I don't understand why this is classed as gothic. Yikes.
The stories in this book are perhaps more useful as examples of the beginnings of a genre than on their own merits. The three prefaces given in the introduction in this edition are particularly useful in this regard.
Horace Walpole's Castle of Otranto was the ur-text of the Gothic novel and set the tone with its use of the supernatural (which would increase in later phases of the genre) and its medieval settings. The book itself is a reasonable engaging mix of the dramatic, the comic and the frightening. The resolution of the plot at the end is genuinely tragic while the initial plot development, in which someone is crushed by a giant helmet, is Pythonesque.
William Beckford's Vathek was less interesting than the life of the author itself. Vathek himself was a heavily fictionalized version of the Abbasid caliph Al-Wathiq ibn Mutasim. A key feature of this story is the Orientalism that was a product of the availability of the Arabian Nights in English several decades before Vathek was written. Interestingly, Vathek was originally written in French, with the first English translation being unauthorized. The introduction notes that Orientalism in fiction had more of a presence in French writing than in English. The book itself, about the corruption and fall of Vathek, isn't terribly impressive. Vathek himself is two-dimensional while the book seems overwritten with an excess of description and detail.
John Polidori's The Vampyre (and the fragment of a novel with the same plot written by Lord Byron, from whom Polidori apparently lifted the idea), won't make anyone forget Bram Stoker but it isn't bad and does seem to be the first English vampire story.
The Castle of Otranto is of interest more for setting the pattern for later Gothic novels than for its own dubious quality. Walpole creates a framework of dark castles, secret underground passages, ghostly hauntings, virtuous maidens, and dispossessed heroes that later novelists like Ann Radcliffe embellish and elaborate to better effect. Still, Walpole is the originator, although what he “originates” is actually a pastiche of the plots of Medieval adventures combined with the 18th-century Romantic atmosphere of heightened emotionalism. It’s interesting to read as the progenitor of a long and colorful line. John Polidori's The Vampyre was inspired by a fragment by Lord Byron (also included in this edition). Polidori was present at that fateful night of ghost stories at the Villa Diodati that led to the competition for which Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein. He listened to the fragment Lord Byron produced and wrote his own treatment of Byron’s idea—and finished it. The story is deliciously creepy told in the kind of florid language later favored by Edgar Allan Poe. Christopher Frayling, a scholar of vampire stories, called it the first “successfully to fuse the disparate elements of vampirism into a coherent literary genre.” Sadly, I found Vathek almost completely unreadable due to the florid mania of the plot.
Castle of Oranto & Vathek read like very long fairy tales- but I have read fairy tales that were much more interesting. The Vampire was so unrememberable that I cannot even recall it now even though I read a few days ago. Overall, an historically interesting collection if you are curious about gothic literature and early fantasy. But underwhelming in regards to all the other things you can read. They all follow a standard formula- pretty maiden, check; corrupt, power-hungry main character, check; naïve youth, check; with some variants.If anyone wants this- I will mail it out to them for free- contact me.
This book is worth getting if just for Vathek, which is a wonderfully chilling 18th-century Oriental tale. While Walpole's work spurred the development of the Gothic genre, its clunky writing and plot are difficult to stomach. Polidori's "Vampyre" is dreadful, especially in comparison with Byron's intriguing fragment. Essential reading for anyone who wants to see the beginnings of the Gothic and modern horror genres.
I have long sought a copy of Walpole's "The Castle of Otranto," which has oft been cited as the founding Gothic novel, so one can imagine my surprise and delight to find it reprinted in this volume, together with Beckford's "Vathek" (less well-known, I suppose) and Polidori's "The Vampyre"(!), as well as a fragment of a novel by George Gordon (Lord Byron) which bears some interesting similarities to the tale of Polidori.
A very neat little collection containing the Castle of Otranto, the very first Gothic novel, Vathek, an interesting Gothic tale with a more exotic setting than most, and The Vampyre, written by John Polidori, Byron's physician whom nobody really liked, but was present at the "contest" of sorts during which Shelley wrote Frankenstein. Here, Polidori wrote the first piece of vampiric prose.
I've read this book several times. I like the fact that it's reasonably priced and that instead of including ,Frankenstein like other "three gothic novels" compilations, it includes Polidori's "The Vampire" and the Bryon fragment. The texts themselves aren't as scholarly as in other editions. However, it does have a fairly detailed introduction, and the typeface is easy to read.
I was assigned Walpole's tale "The Castle of Otranto" for my Gothic Tale of Terror class. I enjoyed the story although the dialogue was a little hard to follow. The story reminded me of the Knights of the Round Table stories and I couldn't help but see a glimpse of Henry VIII in there as well. This story set the mold for future Gothic tales. The giant helmet bit hooked me from the beginning.
Although it look me longer to read this book than many others, it was pretty interesting. The stories written in the mid 1700's to early 1800's during the peak of the true gothic novels have almost a poetry about them.
I have long wanted to read these stories, not so much for the stories, but for what they represent as the start of gothic novels. I have long heard about the castle of otranto particularly and was not disappointed.