Carnival Celebrations in Gothic Literature

It’s Carnival season in the Catholic liturgical year—a time for wild celebration and indulging in excess before the restrictions and solemnity of Lent. The holiday is celebrated mainly in regions with large Catholic populations, including parts of Western Europe and the Americas, but historically it has been especially associated with Italy. Celebrations usually involve parades, colorful costumes, extravagant parties, and indulgent foods and beverages. Though ostensibly a time of joy and merriment, this boisterous atmosphere can also be disorienting, overwhelming, and even frightening, and the holiday’s associations with disguise and mischief create an excellent opportunity for dastardly plots and misdirection. This—combined with Gothic literature’s love/hate relationship with all things Catholic—makes the frenetic festivities of Carnival the perfect backdrop. Below are just a few examples of works of Gothic literature that take place during Carnival or Carnival-like celebrations:

Zofloya by Charlotte Dacre (1806)

Zofloya; or, The Moor: A Romance of the Fifteenth Century is an early Gothic novel that I don’t think I’ve talked about much on this blog yet. The novel is perhaps most notable for its central character, Victoria, a complicated anti-hero who seems to shift between the roles of Gothic victim and villain. Victoria is raised as the spoiled daughter of a Marchese in fifteenth-century Venice. Early on in the novel, her father dies and Victoria comes under the custody of her adulterous mother, who then sends her off to live under the tyrannical thumb of a cousin, Signora di Modena. Eventually, Victoria disguises herself in her servant’s clothes and escapes by running to the canal and hitching a ride with a gondolier. He brings her into the heart of Venice, where the streets are alive with the spirit of Carnival. Victoria delights in the scene, despite feeling faint with hunger and exhaustion, and rejoices even more when she spots her lover Berenza amongst the revelers. She recognizes him immediately despite his costume, but—wary of a jealous mistress—he refuses to acknowledge Victoria in public, returning to her later in the night to lead her through the shadows to his home. The different reactions of Victoria and Berenza to the Carnival celebrations are portentous of their differences in character. Victoria’s delight in the attention she receives and the pleasures of the festival hints at the vanity and sensuality that will lead her down a path of sin and violence. Meanwhile, Berenza’s paranoia reflects his hypocrisy in demanding a pure love from Victoria when he has been less than faithful himself.

The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo (1831)

Victor Hugo’s classic novel, set in medieval Paris, opens with a wild celebration called the Feast of Fools—you may remember it being introduced via the song “Topsy Turvy” in the Disney adaptation. Though this is not technically a Carnival celebration (it actually marks the preceding liturgical period, Epiphany), it is very much in the same spirit. The day is celebrated with a bonfire, a maypole, a theatrical performance, and a grand feast, but the main event is the crowning of a Pope of Fools, an activity in which commoners parody the ritual and reverence of the Church. When Quasimodo, the disabled orphan who rings the bells of the Notre-Dame Cathedral, wanders into the crowd, he is immediately chosen for his ugliness to become that year’s Pope of Fools. The revelers dress Quasimodo up like a pope, place him in a litter, and parade him about the town. Quasimodo is thrilled by this first moment of positive attention he has ever experienced in his life, but it is only temporary. Indeed, Archdeacon Claude Frollo appears and tears off Quasimodo’s costume, unceremoniously bringing the charade to an end and by the next day Quasimodo is back to being reviled for his ugliness rather than celebrated. The Carnivalesque atmosphere of the day allows Paris’s inhabitants to play around with the rigid power dynamics of medieval France, but only for a short time.

“The Cask of Amontillado” by Edgar Allan Poe (1846)

Of course, my favorite example of Carnival in literature is Edgar Allan Poe’s tale of devious murder, “The Cask of Amontillado.” Set in an unnamed Italian city, the short story centers on a man named Montressor who is fed up with the slights he has suffered from his friend Fortunado—although what exactly these slights were is never fully explained. The “supreme madness” of Carnival season provides Montressor with the perfect opportunity to enact his vengeance. He comes upon Fortunado already drunk and wearing a ridiculous jester costume, which will only enhance his humiliation at the end of the story. Montressor lures Fortunado away from the crowd and down into the wine vaults, which double as his family’s catacombs, by flattering Fortunado’s fine taste in wine and asking him to authenticate some Amontillado—a rare and expensive vintage—that he just purchased. Montressor continues to ply Fortunado with alcohol along the way, dampening his faculties so that he will not suspect a trap. When they reach a niche deep in Montressor’s vaults, he chains Fortunado up and walls him in with bricks. Once Fortunado has worn himself out from screams and protests and denials, the only sound that comes from that nice as the last brick is laid in place is the jingling of his jester’s bells… To avoid Fortunado’s fate, take care not to indulge too much in Carnival’s intoxicants if you have any enemies about.

Have you read any other works of Gothic or horror literature that feature Carnival celebrations? Are you doing anything for the Carnival or Mardi Gras season? Let me know in the comments!