This is an interesting tale, and compelling in the sense of always wanting to know what happens next and hoping for the best for the characters. It is very much a nineteenth century novel, however, in the sense that it’s a meandering story of things happening to the characters. The characters for the most part don’t do anything. What they did that makes this story interesting all happened before the story starts. The only character that does do stuff, the younger brother Henry Fairfield, for the most part does it all off-screen.
If there’s any sense of mystery in the story, it comes from wondering what Fairfield’s scheme is and how much of what he tells people is true, how much he believes is true, and how much is deliberate lying to get his way.
Assuming you go into it, as I did, knowing it was a novel from the 1800s, the disappointment comes mainly from the title and the back-cover blurb, which reads as if the blurb-writer had had the characters described to them and then wrote the blurb assuming it to be a modern novel.
“As Alice blossoms into a beautiful young woman she attracts the attentions of not one but two of the men she lives with.”
This is technically true from the standpoint of describing the character—but all of this happens before the book starts. It’s the backstory that leads to the conflict of the story, and the story’s first couple of chapters begin with the end of that.
“The blissful happiness that ensues, however, is short-lived as she finds herself embroiled in the dark secrets of the Fairfield family’s past and the evil ambitions of its present. In a world that is nightmarish and malevolent, nothing and no one is quite what they seem.”
There is as far as I can tell only one relevant secret in the Fairfield family’s past and it’s not particularly dark. The Fairfields are an open book, and even that one secret is a secret only to the reader, because we aren’t told what everyone else except Alice knows, and to Alice, who is too young to know it. As far as being a mystery, that secret is never really resolved as a mystery, though from what little we learn of how Charles lived I suspect Harry has the right of it.
“Who—or what—is the malignant presence that haunts Carwell Grange?”
This makes it sound like a ghost story. Alice sees and feels something odd when entering a room toward the beginning, once. It’s taken as an omen, and it probably is, but it is otherwise never part of the story again. It is also the only thing remotely supernatural in the book. This is not a spoiler; it’s like saying that Man and Superman doesn’t have Clark Kent in it even though the word “Superman” appears a few times. It isn’t that kind of book and was never meant to be that kind of book. Le Fanu is well known for his ghost stories, but he wasn’t writing a ghost story here.
The biggest mystery in the book is why Charles is sometimes called “Ry” by Alice, when it’s Charles’s brother who is named Henry/Harry.
This is not a ghost story (there are no witches either, despite the back-cover blurb). It is not a psychological thriller. It is not a crime mystery or a nail-biting horror. Like many books of its time, there isn’t even a continuing character. The characters are used as needed, and thrown out when they’re done with—even Alice. It’s a story about a time and a place and the events that happen then and there.
I started reading this hoping for another of Le Fanu’s supernatural stories (he does in fact write supernatural mysteries—his novel Carmilla introduced us to one of the first fictional occult detectives). Once I realized that wasn’t what it was, I enjoyed it for what it is: a gothic tale about the potential fall of a powerful family amid their ruined manors and misty moors in the English countryside.