It’s not often you hear that a classic Gothic novel (other than Frankenstein or Dracula) is getting freshly reimagined by a modern author. That’s why it immediately caught my eye when I saw that a novel called Melmoth just came out in October. Melmoth is the newest book by British writer Sarah Perry (author of The Essex Serpent). As the title suggests, Melmoth borrows heavily from Charles Maturin’s 1820 novel Melmoth the Wanderer, but Perry’s version is not a straightforward re-telling. Instead, stylistic and story elements of the classic Gothic work are woven into a new, original story to create a unique hybrid of genres.
In Maturin’s tale, Melmoth is a man who has sold his soul to the devil in exchange for an extra 150 years of life, and then spends that time searching for someone foolish enough to take over his bargain. In Perry’s surprising reinterpretation, Melmoth is a woman who has been cursed to wander the earth for eternity, because she refused to accept Jesus’s resurrection. She stands as witness throughout history to moments of great sin and despair, searching for someone who has been brought low enough to become her companion. Helen Franklin is a British expatriate living a dull existence in Prague, where she is forcing herself to do penance for some past sin. The only thing that lifts her out of her depression is her friendship with the scholar Karel and his wife, Thea. But just after discovering a stack of manuscripts relating to the mysterious figure Melmoth, Karel disappears. Could their sins finally be catching up to them in the form of this ancient, cursed woman?
Combining the Literary with the Gothic is an interesting choice, especially because in some ways the two genres can be considered to be diametrically opposed. The concept of “literary fiction” is a modern invention used to describe contemporary novels that are respected as “high-brow” forms of literature. They are characterized by a focus on style over plot, a tendency toward slow-paced introspection, and grand reflections on the human condition. Gothic fiction, on the other hand, is a largely outmoded genre that was mocked in its day for being “low-brow” and gave birth to nearly all of the genres now regarded as “genre fiction”—the opposite of “literary.” Sarah Perry’s Melmoth throws these contrasts into question. If the two can be combined, are they really so different?
The blending of these two opposing genres can be seen in the variegated stylistic choices throughout the novel. The central, present-day narrative is written in a style representative of literary fiction. Lit fic is often characterized by experimental styles that intentionally diverge from traditional modes of story-telling. In this case, the narrative is told in the present-tense third person (an unusual combination), with occasional second-person interjections that address the reader. The opening chapters are speckled with admonitions to “Look!” as the narration directs the reader’s attention to a particular detail, as well as with phrases like “If you follow her, you will see …” which aim to bring the reader into the physical space of the story. Something about this style is evocative of oral story-telling, almost like the old epics. But after the novelty wore off, I felt that it started to sound kitschy and affected. Especially when paired side-by-side with the epistolary style that marked many of the great novels of the nineteenth century. Letters, journals, and written testimonies are interwoven with the central narrative of Melmoth to provide a Gothic backdrop. These recall the framed narratives within Melmoth the Wanderer, and like them are used to introduce the character of Melmoth and her centuries-long existence. I found the back-and-forth of these styles to be intellectually interesting—if not always aesthetically pleasing.
Another contradiction within this novel is the character of Melmoth herself. In Maturin’s version, Melmoth is clearly the Gothic villain of the story, and in some ways Melmoth fulfills that role here, too. But she also seems to do some good. She appears at the darkest times in history, periods of persecution and genocide, and confronts those who have greatly sinned. Her presence drives the characters to face and confess their wrongdoings, hence the pile of documents in her wake. But to give in to her completely—to agree to become her companion—means giving over to despair. In this way she’s more a metaphor for personal growth than a terrifying monster of legend. To meet Melmoth is to walk that fine line between acknowledging your own sins and allowing them to consume you.
Melmoth is truly one of the most unique novels I’ve read this year, and a fascinating challenge to many commonly held conceptions of genre. If you’d like to check it out for yourself, Melmoth by Sarah Perry is available now at your local retailer, or you can buy it online and support The Gothic Library in the process by clicking on this Bookshop.org affiliate link. If you read it, be sure to let me know what you think in the comments!