Book Review: The Haunted Hotel

Sir, what am I - a demon who has seen the avenging angel? or only a poor mad woman, misled by the delusion of a deranged mind?

I have tried to read Willkie Collins before, and I was about as successful as a chicken trying to lay duck eggs. But I wanted to try again, and it had been a while since I’d read some classic fiction. So, naturally, my foray back into classics had to be a ghost story. I won't lie, but that’s so Victorian. There is something wonderfully fascinating in and of itself of the Victorian fascination with the macabre, ghosts and things that go bump in the night. I wouldn’t say I share that fascination, but I do like ghost stories and supernatural mischief.

So, let's get to it! Our heroine of the story, Agnes, has been jilted by Lord Montberry in favour of a mysterious Countess from the continent. He is, by all accounts, wildly in love with the Countess. The countess is a mystery; she appears at a doctor’s office to discover if she is going mad. Her pallor is sickly; she has a deathly beauty about her that isn’t frail – but a cunning cruelty that leaves the doctor slightly shaken. The Countess marries the Lord and vanishes with him to Venice, where they are joined by her brother The Baron, in a run-down palace. This is where our mystery begins. An English maid deserts the party as she finds the activities of the Countess and The Baron suspicious. The courier who accompanied them vanishes into the night, and the Lord dies suddenly. And so, it begins.

Horrific dreams of the dead Lord, horrendous scents and melancholy descend upon the living members of the Montbarry family. How did the previous Lord meet his end? Is it all true? Are the dreams a terrifying account of what has happened? The answer may lie in a gruesome play of the Countess’ devising, will it set the family free or damn Agnes to an eternity of grief?

The beautiful and mysterious setting of Venice makes for a deliciously macabre novel. It is romantic in its setting but horrific in its circumstances. There is an interesting clash between Victorian sensibilities and attitudes of progress, and the supernatural, the other. Can the rational explain the irrational? Vengeance is a funny thing.

Dear reader, do you believe in ghosts?