This is an unusual book in the genre of gothic, which I had thought defunct.
The gothic is what Jane Austen was mocking in Northanger Abbey and I believe the first examples were The Mysteries of Udolpho and The Castle of Otranto. It continued to thrive until the seventies, with examples being written by Mary Stewart (Nine Coaches Waiting) and Joan
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(And I'm glad you liked it.)
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There are gothics with humour -- all Joan Aiken's better ones are as funny as Agnes and the Hitman. What really makes a gothic is the mysterious house full of secrets and plotting people who are Not What They Seem, and this has them in spades.
I'm very glad you mentioned it.
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This is in my to-be-read piles, waiting for a day when I can read it all in one go.
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Not directly, but because Gothics traditionally featured ingenues as heroines, who are virtually always virgins who wanted a marriage, then children, in that order. Now one could have a sexually active heroine (without the sudden appearance of bastard children!), which led to the bodice ripper as the next subgenre of choice. (Until they got over the hang-up about women being sexually active, and liking it.)
However, most of the gothics with a sense of humour seem to date after the arrival of the bodice ripper, which may disprove the idea.
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