Comments: 6
Congrats on the double bingo. So how did you like the (almost-)death by supersized helmet?
Thanks!
It is a very WTF element to kick-start the book. No wonder it appears on most covers. I guess how you'll approach the read will pretty much depend of whether you take it as a serious supernatural element, or it just starts you chuckling in disbelief, which... kudos for ambiguous mood setting? I still don't know whether Walpole was taking the mickey or not, lol
He was totally taking the mickey. The first edition of the book was published pseudonymously, and sold as a several centuries-old translation from Italian. In the preface to the second edition he revealed his authorship ... and satirical intent. Which engendered a few enraged reviews by reviewers who had praised the first edition for its originality! I guess those review writers didn't like to be shown up as the pompous fools they were ...
Yeah, I read that first edition. I though it was a framing device. Realized later it had not been published under his name at first, but I did not catch there was a Walpole preface floating somewhere. Heh! I can just imagine the outrage.

To be honest, reading this one right along The Circular Staircase was part of what made me all too conscious of the ridiculous amount of tangled drama and secrecy going on the cozy mystery.
So the Oxford edition you read doesn't include the preface of the second edition of "The Castle of Otranto"? That's a pity ... that second preface is a joy in and of itself (especially when contrasted with the preface of the first edition).

"The Circular Staircase" is one of those "women in peril" mysteries that were popular at the beginning of the 20th century -- they're not my favorite subgenre, either; mostly because I keep wanting to yell at the heroine "get the heck out of there; you don't need this nonsense in your life." (Ethel Lina White -- she of "The Lady Vanishes" -- is another author who specialized in this sort of book.) That said, I like how Arthur Conan Doyle handles this type of situation; his female protagonists actually do tend to have a lot of pluck (and if they don't, Holmes is properly dismissive of them) -- and many other Golden Age mystery writers didn't employ the trope at all; or if they did, with a lot more realism. Can't speak to the vast majority of modern cozies, though; usually the romance subplots are enough to make me want to bail out of those within a very few pages.
I read the Gutenberg project version and just clicked on whatever edition popped first for the feed. Now I need to search for that preface.

I did not find Ray staying that annoying, because I felt like even if she lacked some pluck (she faints! come on!), I could see what brand of stubbornness and boredom with life could breed such a decision. Actually, her being all secretly exited explained many of her frankly silly choices (that part I DID find annoying). But yeah the "women in peril" and "females going for adventure and making all the wrong choices then need rescue" sucks.

I'm still very surprised on this adult full read of the Holmes collection by how... even the regard for men and women is. There are women in peril and men in peril, whether it's their own fault is as often for each sex, and how useful they are to extricate themselves from their own troubles is even too. And Holmes regard for their worth unrelated to their sex (which might be the reason A Case of Identity left such a bad taste in my mouth)