Uncle Silas

by J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Frederick Shroyer (Introduction)

Uncle Silas is a Victorian Gothic mystery/thriller novel by the Anglo-Irish writer J. Sheridan Le Fanu. It is notable as one of the earliest examples of the locked room mystery subgenre. It is not a novel of the supernatural (despite a few creepily ambiguous touches), but does show a strong interest in the occult and in the ideas of Swedenborg. (Summary by Wikipedia)

Genres: Classics, Gothic, Horror, Fiction, Mystery, Victorian, 19th Century

436 pages, Paperback

First published December 1, 1864

About the author

Joseph Thomas Sheridan Le Fanu was an Irish writer of Gothic tales and mystery novels. He was the leading ghost-story writer of the nineteenth century and was central to the development of the genre in the Victorian era. M.R. James described Le Fanu as "absolutely in the first rank as a writer of ghost stories". Three of his best-known works are Uncle Silas, Carmilla and The House by the Churchyard.

Reviews

[Bill Kerwin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Uncle Silas isn’t a great novel, but it does exactly what it sets out to do. It is an effective “novel of sensation” in the tradition of The Woman in White, presenting us with a likable heroine in increasingly perilous situations, leading to a hair-raising—and extremely well-executed—climax.

There are not many thrills in Uncle Silas, but the thrills themselves are indeed thrilling, and Le Fanu knows exactly how to administer them—sometimes by the dollop, occasionally with an eye-dropper—in order to make sure that the reader does not become jaded and is prepared to enjoy every thrill all the way till the end.

One of the reasons Le Fanu succeeds so well is the nature of his villain. Silas does not possess the heroic size—physically or spiritually—of Collins’ Count Fosco. As a matter of fact, he is almost his villainous opposite. (I suspect this might have been La Fanu's intention.) Silas is a small man of small ambitions, a hypocritical sociopath who hides behind the bible, an opium addict and an invalid, and yet in his own quiet way, he is just as dangerous as the Count. If the Count is like an aging lion, then Silas resembles more closely a poisonous spider. Even when his intentions seem benign, we know in our hearts that they are not, and consequently we continue to fear for Maude even in the midst of the comic interludes in the second third of the novel. Even if we cannot see the spider spinning, we know he--and his poisonous bite--is still there.

I don’t think this novel is quite as successful as the best of Le Fanu’s ghost stories (which are masterpieces of the form), but it is nevertheless a superb piece of craftsmanship, an absorbing and enjoyable work.

[Paul Bryant · Rating 3 out of 5]

My name is Maud and I’m only 17 and I’m a total feeb, seriously. I’m literally scared of my own shadow! But really, who wouldn’t be? Those things follow you around. And they’re so quiet. What are they up to? I live in a vast stately home because my father has more money than the Bank of Freaking England. I don’t get out much, really what is there to do round here except clog dancing and killing animals, but I have noticed that every man I meet falls at my little dainty feet. I wondered why that might be, and I came to the conclusion it’s probably because of my stunning beauty. So given all of that, what could possibly go wrong? Well, just imagine for a moment that my dear papa should have a stroke and die and because I am under the age of 21 I should then be shunted over to the care of my even more reclusive borderline personality disorder Uncle Silas who is thought to have murdered a man and who is sinking under a mass of accumulated gambling debt piled up years ago before he discovered the more tranquil delights of opium. Surely no harm could befall me in the clutches of such a repulsive individual, to whom it may just have occurred that should I die before I attain control over my staggering wealth he would inherit the lot, or, maybe Plan B, possibly he just might marry me off to his boorish rakehell of a son who looks exactly like Oliver Reed as Bill Sikes. Now read on for another 350 pages.

[Pia G. · Rating 5 out of 5]

i was the woman lying on that bed, stretched out helplessly in her soiled white nightgown, her breath caught somewhere between life and fear.

bartram-haugh was no manor, it was fuseli's merciless canvas. and fear was the nightmare that emerged from the darkness and settled upon my chest.

le fanu had placed me at the very heart of that painting, quietly closing the door behind me to see whether i would still be able to breathe.

fear didn't arrive as an enemy of flesh and blood. it drifted in like a shapeless nightmare and laid its full weight across my chest. it was so unbearably heavy that with every breath i drew, my lungs filled not with air but with the damp, mould and rot of bartram-haugh.

i wanted to scream. to tear my throat apart with a cry, to rip that weight from my body. but my voice had already been taken from me.

my lips moved, words formed inside my mind, yet nothing emerged strong enough to pierce the deaf darkness of the room. it was as though the house had slowly begun thinking in my place.

pinned to that bed somewhere between sleep and waking, obedience and madness, i could feel that blind horse's head reaching out from behind the curtain, its sightless gaze fixed directly upon my soul.

i could feel that the terror pressing down on me was not silas alone. every time i saw him, something inside me recoiled. my father's voice still lingered behind me, the promises i had made to him echoing endlessly in my ears. i wanted to run, yet loyalty had fastened invisible chains around my feet.

i could open doors, walk the corridors, stand at the windows and look outside. yet none of it meant that i was free. i could speak, but no one truly heard me.

at times i felt less like a living person than a ghost wandering through the ruins of her own life.

the most maddening part wasn't being certain of anything. i could no longer tell whether my fears were justified. i searched every glance, every silence, every unfinished sentence for some hidden threat, only to feel ashamed of myself afterward.

was silas truly a monster, or merely an old, broken man the world had chosen to misunderstand?

the more i remembered the unwavering trust my father had placed in him, the more i began to doubt my own instincts. there are few things more terrifying than losing faith in your own mind.

i feared silas, yet one night i realised that fear had another face. he had not been the one who brought me into that house. the man who had placed me in his hands was the man who loved me. my father's ghost haunted the corridors of bartram-haugh as relentlessly as silas's shadow.

sometimes i found myself confusing their footsteps. one seemed to call me deeper into the darkness, the other urged me to turn back. yet both voices already belonged to the past and i walked on alone between them.

i didn't close my eyes until morning. the nightmare still rested upon my chest, the blind horse's head waited behind the curtains and the house breathed quietly around me. yet something within me refused to die.

fear taught me to doubt my own mind. it taught me to fear people. it taught me the language of shadows. yet it couldn't tear away that final spark. because no matter how close the darkness came, i knew i was still looking back at it.

and the woman lying on that bed was not the one who closed her eyes in the end.

* johann heinrich füssli/the nightmare

●

o yatakta yatan, kirli beyaz geceliğinin içinde soluğu kesilen, kendini savunamaz halde upuzun bırakılmış o kadın bendim. 

bartram-haugh bir malikâne değil, fuseli'nin o amansız tuvaliydi. korkuysa gecenin içinden çıkıp göğsüme çöreklenmiş bir karabasandı. 

le fanu beni o tuvalin tam ortasına bırakmış, nefes alıp alamayacağımı görmek için kapıyı usulca üzerime kapatmıştı.

korku, etten kemikten bir düşman gibi gelmedi. biçimsiz bir karabasan gibi süzüldü içeri ve ağırlığını doğrudan göğsümün üzerine bıraktı. o kadar ağırdı ki her nefes alışımda ciğerlerime hava yerine bartram-haugh'un küf, nem ve çürüme kokusu doluyordu. 

çığlık atmak istedim. boğazımı yırtarcasına haykırmak, o ağırlığı üzerimden söküp atmak. ancak sesim çoktan benden alınmıştı. 

dudaklarım kıpırdıyor, kelimeler zihnimde şekilleniyor fakat hiçbir şey odanın sağır karanlığını delecek kadar güçlü çıkmıyordu. sanki ev yavaş yavaş benim yerime düşünmeye başlamıştı. 

uykuyla uyanıklık, itaatle delilik arasında o yatağa çivilenmiş yatarken, perdenin gerisinden uzanan o kör at başı doğrudan ruhumu izliyordu.

üzerime çöken dehşetin yalnızca silas olmadığını hissediyordum. onu her gördüğümde içimde bir şey ürperiyordu. babamın sesi hâlâ peşimden geliyor, verdiği sözler kulaklarımda yankılanıyordu. kaçmak istiyordum ancak sadakat ayaklarıma görünmez zincirler vurmuştu. 

kapıları açabiliyor, koridorlarda dolaşabiliyor, pencerelerden dışarı bakabiliyordum. yine de bütün bunlar özgür olduğum anlamına gelmiyordu. konuşabiliyordum lakin kimse beni gerçekten duymuyordu. 

bazen kendimi yaşayan bir insan gibi değil, kendi hayatımın içinde dolaşan bir hayalet gibi hissediyordum.

en çıldırtıcı olanıysa hiçbir şeyden emin olamamaktı. korkularımın haklı olup olmadığını bilmiyordum. her bakışın, her sessizliğin, her yarım kalmış cümlenin içinde bir tehdit arıyor, sonra bundan utanıyordum. 

silas bir canavar mıydı, yoksa herkesin yanlış anladığı yaşlı ve kırgın bir adam mıydı? 

babamın ona duyduğu güveni hatırladıkça kendi sezgilerimden şüphe etmeye başlıyordum. insanın kendi aklına güvenememesi, bazen karşısındaki düşmana güvenmesinden bile daha korkunçtu.

silas'tan korkuyordum ancak gecenin bir yerinde asıl korkunun başka bir yüzü olduğunu fark ettim. beni bu eve o getirmemişti. beni onun ellerine bırakan kişi, beni seven adamdı. babamın hayaleti bartram-haugh'un koridorlarında silas'ın gölgesi kadar peşimi bırakmıyordu. 

bazen ayak seslerini birbirine karıştırıyordum. biri beni karanlığın içine çağırıyor, diğeri geri dönmemi istiyordu. ne var ki ikisi de çoktan geçmişte kalmış seslerdi ve ben onların arasında yapayalnız yürüyordum.

sabaha kadar gözümü kırpmadım. karabasan göğsümdeydi, kör at başı perdelerin arasında bekliyordu, ev sessizce etrafımda nefes alıyordu. yine de içimde bir şey ölmedi. 

korku bana kendi aklımdan şüphe etmeyi öğretti, insanlardan korkmayı öğretti, gölgelerin dilini öğretti. ne var ki o son kıvılcımı söküp alamadı. çünkü karanlık ne kadar yaklaşırsa yaklaşsın, ben hâlâ ona baktığımı biliyordum. 

ve o yatakta yatan kadın, sonunda gözlerini kapatan kişi olmadı.

* johann heinrich füssli/the nightmare

[Bilbo Baggins · Rating 5 out of 5]

7/5 stars~~~~~~~
This book.........
This is one of my ALL TIME FAVORITES RIGHT HERE!!!
There was so much depth and darkness to this book, but it also had so much joy and it was funny! I found my self laughing outloud tons of times!
Then again, this book is TERRIFYING. I was so freaked out while I was reading it!
Along with this amazing plot, the characters were fabulous! Maud, the main character, was so relatable to me

[Cherie · Rating 3 out of 5]

A Victorian gothic tale written in 1864. An orphaned 17 year old girl is sent to live with her Uncle Silas. She has never met him before. Years ago he was an excessive gambler and was accused of murder, and the scandal has never faded. Has Uncle Silas truly became a changed religious man, or is he a greedy man willing to kill to for greed?

Due to the writing style of this time period, there is confusion sometimes on which character is speaking in the narrative. This caused me to reread passages many times.

I liked the beginning and the end, but from the 50% to the 75% it really stalled. I kept avoiding the book. I thought about not finishing, but I finally finished. I think the middle needed some editing, a good bit could have been removed. The ending did work up a good suspenseful feeling. I had to remind myself the protagonist was only 17, and times were different then. I kept thinking I would have acted differently than she did, or handled things differently. I did get tired of her stomping her foot, resembling a 5 year old in the throws of a temper tantrum.

[Christine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the most frightening book I have ever read. Before I picked this up, I had read some of Le Fanu's short fiction, the ghost stories based on Irish legends, and, of course, CARMILLA. This book, however, is horrifying. Too often, writers and directors of horror regie solely on blood and gore to convey fear. For me, it doesn't work. All it conveys is a love of gory. Such gore might not make me hungry, but it doesn't scare me.

Le Fanu relies on mood and atmosphere to get the job done. He also relies on one other key thing, and it is this that really gets the job of creating the tension and fear. That ingredient is Knowledge. The reader knows, but Maud doesn't, what is going to happen. The reader knows it completely and utterly. Instead of making the book pointless, this knowledge carries the tension and fear. A reader reads in the height of almost panic because of this knowledge. Usually such knowledge doesn't work. The monster is always scarier when we can't see it. Le Fanu found a way to show us and not show us the monster. It's brilliant.

[❀Julie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had such high expectations for this old classic that seemed almost impossible to get my hands on. My idea of a “cozy mystery” is a Gothic/Victorian Era mystery so when this finally became available to me I was thrilled to read it. I loved the sound of the premise: After the death of her father, a 17-year-old heiress is sent to live under her uncle’s care, of whom rumor has it he may or may not have committed a murder. I was concerned for her safety among a whole slew of suspicious characters. The introduction promised this was the perfect read for a cold winter night. But unfortunately a fortnight of cold winter nights just wasn’t cutting it. I did enjoy the richly developed characters and the wonderfully creepy atmosphere the author created. 3 stars for the tension, the sense of foreboding, and the enjoyment of reading it as a buddy read, just wish I could have enjoyed it as much as my friend did.

[Sasha · Rating 4 out of 5]

Are Gothic novels respectable? Let's talk about it. Would this be a good time to sit backwards on my chair? Fuck yes it would, Let's Get Real. I recently read Anthony Trollope's landmark Serious Novel The Way We Live Now, from around the same time to (1875 to Silas's 1864), so let's use that one to compare themes.

- Class, especially the fortune of landed gentry vs. their non-landed relatives: check
- The powerlessness of women to control their own destinies: check
- The quest for power and money, and its corrosive effects on the soul: check

So Gothics are concerned with the same issues as other novels - but they deal with them more hysterically. They take place in a heightened world. They're not meant to be seen as realistic. But that doesn't mean they're less serious.

Okay, look, not many books can stand next to The Way We Live Now, whose best character, Marie Melmotte, turns out to have more agency and strength than we gave her credit for. Poor dear Maud, in this book, spends an awful lot of time being shuttled about helplessly.

What Maud is, though, is she's a perfect example of a Final Girl, who for some reason is associated mainly with slasher films although the Gothic novel totally invented it. The Final Girl is often passive through most of the story; always virginal; and always the last person standing, finally taking action to defeat the monster. (That last bit often comes with a twist.) This is Halloween, Friday the 13th, Mysteries of Udolpho, and Uncle Silas.

It's worthy literature, damsel and all. The hysterical reality of the Gothic (and its trademark squicky parts) can make reading it more fun, while you think about the same real issues brought up in more realistic books. Uncle Silas is one of the better Gothics. It's a terrific example of all its tropes executed well - the spooky old estate here is wonderful, one of the great spooky old estates. There are two great characters, Silas and Madame de la Rougierre. It hangs together and the ending works. It's literature.

[Lobstergirl · Rating 3 out of 5]

Like so many fictional Victorian daughters, Maud Ruthyn adores her father and trusts him completely. (Mother is dead.) Obeying his wishes is her heart's desire. In this she is a complete idiot, because her father is actually a terrible parent. Not only does Austin Ruthyn neglect her, but his will provides that on his death she will go live with his brother Silas, whom Maud has never met, until her majority. Putting the interests of one's child first would dictate that Maud go to live with her middle-aged cousin Monica, who has a lovely house, plenty of money, is fond of Maud, and actually does have her best interests at heart. But Austin is determined to have Maud live with Silas in order to rehabilitate Silas's reputation in the community: Silas was once accused of murdering a guest in his house, wrongly, Austin feels. If everyone sees that Austin has trusted Silas with the well-being of his child, they will stop believing Silas had anything to do with the man's death (which was, in fact, ruled a suicide). If Maud dies before Silas, he inherits the entire Ruthyn estate. What could possibly go wrong?

This novel had one of my now favorite new plot devices, the carriage ride that seemingly goes somewhere but actually goes nowhere. (It goes in an enormous circle, arriving back at its departure point, carriage inhabitants ignorant.) Supposedly Le Fanu got this plot device from something his great uncle Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the playwright, did once.

Someone should do a study of classic novels by male authors with first person female narrators in which the narrators opine about the characteristics of their gender. You get gems like this (Le Fanu via Maud): "So Lady Knollys argued, with feminine energy, and I must confess, with a good deal of the repetition which I have sometimes observed in logicians of my own sex, and she puzzled without satisfying me." Translation: "We ladies need to STFU, can I get an amen?"

Then there was this 8-comma sentence, probably surpassed only by The New Yorker at some point....

"I remember how, when, after we had got, late at night, into bed, I sat up, shivering with horror, in mine, while honest Mary's tranquil breathing told how soundly she slept." I know! If you really tried, you could get a 9th comma in there after "breathing," right?

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rating Clarification: 3.5 Stars

I'm happy to report that Uncle Silas has made the cut of classic gothic literature that I've read (and even more important- enjoyed ). Although I'll never have the intellectual reading prowess to make a sustained diet of 19th century literature, I've tried over the years to add more of it into my reading sphere. There is a richness and a depth to it that isn't duplicated in modern literature, IMO. While I can't yet compare it to those giants of gothic literature like The Woman in White or The Mysteries of Udolpho (both of which remain future reads for me), I can say that this novel was personally more enjoyable then Wuthering Heights, but less so then my all time favorite, Jane Eyre. I mean, how could anything beat Jane Eyre?

Uncle Silas has all the hallmarks of a Victorian gothic melodrama:

- A young and impressionable heroine, isolated from the wider world and forced by personal tragedy to make her way through a maze of menacing circumstances.

- Darkly threatening characters who seek emotional and physical destruction of the heroine contrasting with sympathetic characters who may be hiding a dark secret.

- The richly iconic elements of the genre like moldering houses, hints of the supernatural, violent death, subtle sexual overtones, and the BIG.SECRET that will be revealed.

- And of course by the end good will prevail and evil will be vanquished. Our heroine will be rewarded for her efforts with the penultimate Victorian prize of marriage and motherhood .

If at times my modern sensibilities railed over a swooning and dithering heroine with her "woe-is-me" attitude and her inability to see the writing on the wall, there were just as many other times that I cheered her spunk and "can-do" attitude, and praised the male writer who would write her so.

This is a well developed and page turning novel at the beginning and in the final 4 chapters. I felt the middle section dragged with material that didn't advance the plot, but that's probably due to my impatience with Victorian literature in general.

I would recommend Uncle Silas to those interested in exploring this period and this genre.

[Katie Lumsden · Rating 4 out of 5]

Maybe 3.5. I very much enjoyed this one. Very creepy, very atmospheric, a complex and interesting story with a curious central protagonist and interesting themes throughout.

[Amanda · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars - this was just awesome Victorian fun. Lots of twists and turns. Very atmospheric. I listened to the audio narrated by BJ Harrison. He did a great job. For the first hour or so I had a hard time with a male narrator since the MC, Maud is a young girl but he did the other voices so well and I got used to him as Maud's voice. I do think a talented female narrator might have been a better choice but overall great audio. This book was on my 2016 classics challenge and I am so glad that I got to it.

[Nancy Oakes · Rating 5 out of 5]

I decided to reread this book a few weeks ago when someone online was asking about a Victorian mystery and this one popped into my head. Well, there's that, plus the fact that many months ago, I'd bought a dvd of the old BBC adaptation of Uncle Silas called "The Dark Angel" and really wanted to watch it, but I wanted to wait until I'd reread the book. I have two different editions: Penguin ( ISBN 9780140437461) and this one from Dover, but I had just finished a Dover reprint of another book and decided to continue the Dover run.

Since I'd already read this novel, I didn't skip the intro this time, and there was a particular paragraph that caught my eye, so much so that I'm putting it in bold print here:

"Well, you now have Uncle Silas in your hands. If you've not read it before, I envy you. You are about to have a first-time reading experience which, I suspect, you will never forget."

That is certainly the truth -- I remember the very first time I read it, sending pages flip flip flipping in my desire to make sure that my beloved, sweet Maud Ruthyn was going to be okay at the end, pounding heart, knotted stomach, and the feeling that everything else could just go to hell for a little while until I finished the book. This time through, since enough years had passed since I'd first read it, I can say that the flip flip flipping, the pounding heart, knotted stomach, and the feeling that everything else could just go to hell for a little while until I finished the book happened all over again. What's changed is that this time, unlike the last time x number of years ago, I got much more of a sense of what lies beneath and how well written this book actually is. Le Fanu is a master of atmosphere and suspense, but he also incorporates so much under the surface of his best work that this book alone has kept scholars talking for over a century.

This post is a huge departure from my norm, since I won't give up a single detail here, nor will I provide even the slightest hints, because first-time readers should stay away from anything about Uncle Silas that will reveal its contents either before or during your reading of this novel. Do so at your own peril: knowing what happens ahead of time will completely lessen the impact that the book will have on you and the fun is in the building of suspense and in getting caught up in its atmosphere as it gets darker and darker and darker, until in its final moments when you can finally let out all of the tension you've been holding inside.

It is and will remain one of my favorite books ever, and I can absolutely recommend it. Unlike my usual practice, I won't go into what lies underneath its surface, but just so you know, there is a LOT happening that careful readers will be able to discern. Honestly, it's killing me to keep quiet about it, but as I said, not a word. Just a couple of things: 1) do not gloss over the role of the Swedenborgian religion here -- it's very, very important, and 2) don't skim through either the descriptions of the landscape or the main houses in this story -- Le Fanu is an absolute master of weaving such details into his work and they only serve to augment what he's trying to do. Other than that, my only advice is to let the book carry you away from the real world and to have tons of fun with it.

more: http://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/2017...

[Classic reverie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought it interesting to compare Radcliffe gothic to Fanu version. I loved both & how he mentioned her book in his book. Her are romantic with all other aspects & his seems to be more mystery related. Love them both. The man being murdered yet people said it had to be suicide because of being impossible. They were right to be leery of Uncle Silas. So much to think about here, that is why I loved it plus just reading something written in the past I came across the movie "Uncle Silas" in a blog which carries weekly older movies. Whenever I run across a older movie my first question I ask myself, is this a movie based on a book & it was!I had run across Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla which is a vampire short story which I plan on reading next October but really was unaware of his works.This Irish writer's main genre was gothic horror & mystery. He lived during the Victorian era & was the leading ghost story writer of his time. Bram Stoker's Dracula was influenced by Fanu's Carmilla. Uncle Silas is a gothic mystery thriller.The Ruthyns are a prominent family at Knowl. Austyn & Silas Ruthyn are brothers with a scandal that effects the name of Ruthyn. Besides Silas' gambling & rake behavior, he was indicated in a murder at his home yet the impossibility of the murder deemed it a suicide. After Austyn's wife death, he lives in seclusion with his young daughter Maud. There life is akin to hermits except for some servants & Austyn's religious friends. He lives his life trying to clear the family name & all hopes rely on doing this. He enlists his daughter in his quest to clear her uncle's name. She has to decide who & who not to trust. In this story, reforming from the past & living a different lifestyle is it possible?Can you tell by looking at people who is leading the path to goodness & avoiding the evil way in life? If something that is puzzling looks impossible, is it indeed possible if looked at in a different light & mindset?Every time I thought I had the story figured out, it seemed to have a turn which made me rethink what was going to happen. It reach a point near the end that I was sure of all that would play out but still was surprised in the end.


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I was amazed when Maud's father kept the Madame de la Rougierre for his daughter's governess. I was so perplexed by this & could not understand how a father could do this especially if he had opened his eyes and saw through her ways. I was wondering if Maud was his child, but it seemed to be so in the end. He was so clouded by clearing up his family name, that he could not see the evil awaiting his daughter if she was to be dependent on his brother. How a father could be so blind. I liked Dr. Bryerly but was suspicious of him many times. Like I say below in my general review, many times I thought I had the story but then it was different. I thought many times that Uncle Silas was going to do something terrible right of the bat when Maud came but it seems like he was just into a opium addiction. Interesting how the book Opium Eaters was mentioned in this book. I knew a lot of trouble with that drug in that time which is surprising. I first came across opium in Dicken's Edmund Drood. I thought maybe Monica was Maud's mother & Uncle Silas was her father until I noticed he did not care for her & only her money. In the end Monica was just a wonderful person & I especially loved the way she took Milly in to love too! It is funny that Dr. Bryely was ugly & kind of evil looking but kind & the uncle looked to be nicer looking but his kindness if any he has was superficial. His religion you knew right away was just words & no action. His treatment of the girls & his needs being taken care of to his satisfaction. He seemed to care more for his son in being a part of him. Even when he disappointed him he was looking to have him benefit. His son was like him but not polished. It also shows how a person can change of they have desire & guidance. Milly under the loving care of Maud & Monica benefited but even before she had a goodness that could shine through whereas Dudley had many bad examples & inherent meanness. I was so happy that Maud finally saw the danger her way & that her goodness to Meg had a friend for life. I could not understand why Maud saw goodness in her uncle while I saw selfishness & greed. I suppose like her father she wanted it to be. Madame was such a wicked & mean person that seemed insane. I was glad that it ended well but like Maud said it aged her mentally. The trip that brought her back to her Uncles had so much duplicity. It reminded me of Richardson's trip that was so planned to deceive. I thought it interesting to compare Radcliffe gothic to Fanu version. I loved both & how he mentioned her book in his book. Her are romantic with all other aspects & his seems to be more mystery related. Love them both. The man being murdered yet people said it had to be suicide because of being impossible. They were right to be leery of Uncle Silas. So much to think about here, that is why I loved it plus just reading something written in the past I came across the movie "Uncle Silas" in a blog which carries weekly older movies. Whenever I run across a older movie my first question I ask myself, is this a movie based on a book & it was!I had run across Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla which is a vampire short story which I plan on reading next October but really was unaware of his works.This Irish writer's main genre was gothic horror & mystery. He lived during the Victorian era & was the leading ghost story writer of his time. Bram Stoker's Dracula was influenced by Fanu's Carmilla. Uncle Silas is a gothic mystery thriller.The Ruthyns are a prominent family at Knowl. Austyn & Silas Ruthyn are brothers with a scandal that effects the name of Ruthyn. Besides Silas' gambling & rake behavior, he was indicated in a murder at his home yet the impossibility of the murder deemed it a suicide. After Austyn's wife death, he lives in seclusion with his young daughter Maud. There life is akin to hermits except for some servants & Austyn's religious friends. He lives his life trying to clear the family name & all hopes rely on doing this. He enlists his daughter in his quest to clear her uncle's name. She has to decide who & who not to trust. In this story, reforming from the past & living a different lifestyle is it possible?Can you tell by looking at people who is leading the path to goodness & avoiding the evil way in life? If something that is puzzling looks impossible, is it indeed possible if looked at in a different light & mindset?Every time I thought I had the story figured out, it seemed to have a turn which made me rethink what was going to happen. It reach a point near the end that I was sure of all that would play out but still was surprised in the end.

[Sean · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wanted to give this book five stars but I just couldn’t do it. According to my rating system, a five star book is one of the best I have ever read. Uncle Silas is not. Don’t let this mislead you. This book had one of creepiest and most sinister plots in all of Victorian literature but it somehow doesn’t have the complexity of the more famous Gothic masterpiece, The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins.

The story follows a young rich orphaned girl named Maud who is forced to move in with her poor and embarrassed uncle according to her fathers will. This man seems nice enough but there is something mysterious and menacing about this man. Maud soon realized that Uncle Silas is not the nice guy she originally thought. This book is a classic and one of the pioneers of Gothic literature. Recommended.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Buddy read with Hannah and Kim.

More detailed discussion at The Readers Review Literature from 1800 to 1910

After her father's death, Maud Ruthyn is sent to live with her Uncle Silas who is follower of the Swedenborggism. In this "religion", people could freely visit heaven and hell, and talk to angels, demons and other spirits (Wikipedia). According to her father's will, she will be forced to live there until her twenty first birthday.

The plot is a truly turmoil of events and emotions where we can follow Maud's struggle for survival against her uncle and her French governess Madame de La Rougierre. On the other hand, she finds some alleys as Milly, Silas' daughter and her cousin Monica.

This book is based in a short story "Passage in The Secret Story of an Irish Countess", which is published in The Purcell Papers Volume 2.

Another curiosity about this book is that the author wrote in the first person as a woman which is not so usual in this kind of book, except for Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier.

After finished this book, I'm planning to read Carmilla and In a Glass Darkly

[Theresa · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am so excited to have a new favorite classic. Kept my attention, especially at the end. Wonderful characters both good and evil. This is one I can't wait to re-read.

[Daisy · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sometimes I wonder if what remains over time is truly the best examples of that period. The dross forgotten and left out and only the pinnacles of achievement passed on to show future generations the greatness of their time. Thinking of this having read Uncle Silas I can only conclude that no it is not the case and it is truly random and unmeritorious.

Gothic is a phrase that is universally understood, in terms of literature, themes, dress, even feel of a thing. It has lasted the test of time and I cannot believe that this dull, insipid novel would have inspired anything that lasted beyond teatime.

The main protagonist is Maud Ruthyn, a late teen and only child of a fabulously wealthy father Austyn. The section where she is living at home with him is very strange. Austyn is a reclusive oddity who claims to care a great deal for his daughter, after all they only have each other in terms of family, and yet bizarrely takes on a strange governess who seems ill-equipped for the job, is an alcoholic and places Maud in uncomfortable situations with strange men. He refuses to dismiss her even after Maud complains about her ill-treatment at the hands of Madame de la Rougierre and she gets her marching orders only after being found rifling through his study drawers. So far so implausible, but not really gothic.

The second section sees this ‘caring’ dad place Maud in the care of her uncle Silas after his death until she comes of age and can inherit the huge fortune. Austyn has not seen his brother in decades and Maud has never clapped eyes on him – mostly because he was accused of murder as a young man. But Austyn thinks a better way to prove he never believed his brother’s guilt than just, you know, writing a letter or paying a visit, is to wait until he is dead and send his daughter to live with a homicidal stranger with the caveat that if she dies before she is of age Silas will inherit her fortune. Truly with dads like that you don’t need malignant uncles.

For most of the rest of the book there is not much suspense or interest. Silas is as odd and distant as Austyn, Madam makes a reappearance and the reader has to wait for the last few pages for anything perilous to happen, and even then its less suspenseful and creepy than sledgehammer in style.

Not a good book, but one thing did interest me. There is a scene in here where Maud is drugged, taken on a trip in a carriage over a few days and winds up kept in a small room which she is told is France but is in fact just a room in Silas’s house. There is a similar scene in The Woman in White and I’m curious to know if this was a thing back then (they were written 4 years apart). Were there stories of men doing this to female family members, did men just think they’d hoodwink their wives into believing they’d taken them on holiday but the hotel did not live up to the brochures promises, or were people just hopelessly poor at knowing their location (no judgment here from someone who could lose their bearings in a loo). Rabbit hole opened.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

As I have read many of J. Sheridan Le Fanu's ghost and horror fiction in the past, I expected that Uncle Silas would be in the same vein. Although there are two ghosts at Maud Ruthyn's home at Knowl, they are dealt with matter of factly and do not really figure as in a horror story.

What we have is more a tale of an embattled heiress who as a result of bad decisions made by her father, who dies midway through the novel, and then by her guardian Uncle Silas is constantly in danger from various villains who see her as a target because of her inheritance. The most threatening of these is a tall, bony Frenchwoman called Mme de la Rougierre, who is almost laughably witchlike with her heavily accented English. Then there is Dudley Ruthyn, Maud's cousin, who wants to marry her (and her fortune) despite the fact that he is already married.

It's interesting to me to find in so many Victorian English novels these embattled young women of good family who have no power or property and cannot effectively defend themselves and exert control over their own lives.

Where Le Fanu excels is by including a number of really good people who serve as Maud's friends, such as Dr Bryerly, Monica Knollys, Lord Ilbury, Meg, and her cousin Milly. They account for many of the book's lighter moments and prevent the novel from becoming a true Gothic horror tale.

[Nicola · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a wonderfully engaging read which I have to say was a bit of a surprise. Considering the time period it was written in and the fact that it is a famous 'gothic' horror novel I was braced for fainting and hysterical heroines, supernatural mysteries and a plot improbable enough to make Walpole proud (the author of The Castle of Otranto). I was also listening to an audio reading from librivox and I wasn't expecting to be able to stomach it as I don't have a particularly high opinion of the quality of those recordings.

In all things I was pleasantly surprised. The audio wasn't great but the reader didn't change and I got used to his rather flat delivery. It certainly didn't take away from my enjoyment anyway.

The plot was suitably eerie but relied on atmosphere and psychological means to create the horror rather than supernatural effects or straight out violence and gore. I think this might have been one of the earliest gothic novels to do this and it was extremely effective. Along with the heroine I continually wondered 'who am I able to trust?'. Every persons actions and motives were scrutinised, as, like her, I had nothing other than my own perceptions to guide me.

But the heroine herself was the biggest shock; she wasn't exactly kick arse but she had a definite will of her own and when her back was really against the wall she fought like a tigress to save herself rather than wilting up like a flower in traditional gothic horror style. I'm not saying that there weren't times I didn't want to reach into the pages of the novel and give her a good shake (at one point in particular I thought 'look it would be so easy, all you'd have to do is....) but if she had done so then the book would have been over and it wouldn't have had its dramatically climatic ending. Which was great! I was on the metaphorical edge of my seat over the last few pages, almost holding my breath it was so exciting. I think listening to it on audio made it even more explosive as I couldn't increase the speed at which I read, I could only proceed along at the same torturous pace, heart palpitations be damned.

[Ellinor · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very clever and cunning gothic novel. I wanted to climb into the book and shake poor Maud and help her escape from her wicked uncle and the other pursuers.

[Anne · Rating 3 out of 5]

“I have often wondered since at my own firmness. In that dreadful interview with my uncle I had felt, in the whirl and horror of my mind, on the very point of submitting, just as nervous people are said to throw themselves over precipices through sheer dread of falling.”

Uncle Silas is an overwhelmingly gothic and wonderfully creepy 1864 novel with mystery vibes but at its core it is a psychological thriller. I enjoyed this slow-moving story much more after I switched from reading to an audio book. Georgina Sutton does an excellent job of perfecting the various dialects, especially that of the malevolent French governess that, Maud Ruthyn, the young heiress, violently fears. As the reader follows Maud from her father’s home to that of her Uncle Silas, she meets with colorful and sinister characters. Whom is she to trust for guidance?

Most of the story is about Maud’s maturing and learning to advocate for herself after her father’s death. There’s plenty of suspense leading up to a frantic ending. While I liked the overall story, it could have been trimmed down to improve the pacing.

[Darryl Friesen · Rating 2 out of 5]

What a massive letdown and disappointment. After an exciting opening featuring the deliciously creepy, but somewhat one-dimensional and caricatured, Madame de la Rougierre, the book proceeds to droooooooone on monotonously for 200 pages, and then in the end there isn’t one. single. surprise. Everyone we thought was bad, is. All of the villains’ motivations for their villainy turn out to be exactly that, with no surprise reveal or sudden revelation to change the plot. I’m scratching my head, trying to figure out how this is a supposed masterclass in psychological suspense, or even a mystery.

GOOD THING all of my other Victober 2026 reads have been such a phenomenal success!! 😅

[Rosamund Taylor · Rating 4 out of 5]

You can almost see Le Fanu coming to a realisation about the treatment of women in this: that their dependence upon, and necessary supplication to, men places them in danger and unfairly curtails them. Sometimes, by reflecting on something in a genuine way, a writer comes, or almost comes, to a realisation that's ahead of its time. You can almost feel Le Fanu recalibrating and deciding that actually, it's just that the two men in this book are bad, it's not an inherent problems with an unjust system.

This is a gripping, entertaining, and sometimes overblown story of Maud Ruthyn, an extremely wealthy heiress, whose father makes a terrible mistake when, upon his death, he places her in their hands of her unscrupulous and greedy Uncle Silas. Maud faces Gothic misfortune after misfortune, in a novel that is engaging and likeable. I was interested to read in the forward that Le Fanu had set his previous works in Ireland, but was contractually obliged to set later works in England, as his publisher believed an Irish setting wouldn't sell. But Le Fanu had never spent much time in England, and in this b0ok Derbyshire seems to be a thin veneer placed over settings that feel distinctly Irish.

[Elizabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

Slightly meh for me. 👀 I think I would have enjoyed this more if I had read it earlier in my reading journey.

[ღ Carol jinx~☆~☔ʚϊɞ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sheridan Le Fanu was famous for beginning Gothic/Horror.
Uncle Silas was from this genre.
The plot of the novel seems quite simple, Maud Ruthyn is a rich heiress, daughter of an eccentric recluse. He dies and places her in the guardianship of her Uncle Silas. She’s never met Uncle Silas but knows he was disgraced by gossip of suicide or murder that took place in his house. The plot thickens,of course, and it ends up being a spine tingling Gothic story with hints everywhere of the supernatural. I had never read anything else by him but his writing style reminds me somewhat of Wilkie Collins and The Woman in White.

About the Author: Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, the renowned gothic novelist, was born in Dublin in 1814. His vampire novella Carmella is known to have directly influenced Bram Stoker's Dracula, among others. Likewise, Le Fanu's A Chapter in the History of the Tyrone Family is thought to have been a source of inspiration for Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights. It is, however, his tales of the supernatural for which he is best remembered.

[Marvin · Rating 3 out of 5]

This 19th century novel is considered an icon of Gothic horror. That it is, but it can also be seen as an early model of psychological horror. Le Fanu excels in characterization and in slowly molding his characters into either a standard of virtue as he does for poor little Maude, or a model of villainy as he does for the title character. While the novel occasionally hints of ghosts, there are no supernatural events. It has a lot in common with Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White but is not nearly its equal. Nonetheless, Uncle Silas has plenty of eerie moments and an heroine that would make any staunch young British heiress very proud.

[Kim · Rating 3 out of 5]

This quintessential gothic tale, first serialised in 1864, has its origins in Le Fanu's 1839 short story, "A Passage in the Secret History of an Irish Countess". A first person narrative (with some deviations from this technique) the story takes place in 1845, when the teenage narrator, Maud Ruthyn, is sent to live with her guardian - the mysterious Uncle Silas - upon the death of her father. The central mystery in the novel is whether Uncle Silas is the innocent man Maud's father believed him to be, or whether he is a murderer who may now want to get his handare s on Maud's fortune, by whatever means are available to him.

The required elements of a gothic novel are all present: an innocent teenage heiress, sinister villains and a gloomy mansion in poor repair, complete with dark corridors and surly servants. There is suspense and some genuinely creepy moments. However, a few factors stop this tale from being all it could be. Firstly, it is clear that the narrative is a memoir, written some years after the events of the novel take place. The reader therefore knows that whatever threat Maud faced, she survived apparently unscathed. This somewhat dilutes the effect of the novel's most suspenseful moments. Secondly, while the opening and closing sections are very strong, the action in the middle of the novel drags and it is difficult to maintain interest in the heroine's fate. Thirdly, Maud is not a particularly sympathetic character. She has all of the annoying snobbery of a Victorian female of her class, without any great degree of charm or intelligence. In fact, there were times I wanted to slap her. There is only so much crying, fainting, foot-stamping and overlooking the bleeding obvious that I can take.

This was the first work by Le Fanu that I have read and I am interested in reading more. He was an influential writer in his time and has been influential on mystery and thriller writers since. Dorothy L. Sayers, for example, was a fan. However, my enjoyment of the novel was adversely affected by two factors. To fit in with a group read schedule, I read it too slowly to maintain a high level of interest. In addition, during the period I was reading it, I also listened to an audiobook of Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White. Uncle Silas suffers in comparison. While it includes gothic elements (and has a number of flaws), The Woman in White has a much more complex plot and considerably more sophisticated characterisation. In addition, although it has a rather annoying heroine, The Woman in White does at least have one very superior female character - the truly wonderful Marian Halcombe. None of the female characters in this novel come anywhere close to her brilliance.

Recommended for those with an interest in Victorian writers and the evolution of gothic fiction, this novel may not appeal very much to other readers.

[rina.reads · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5 ⭐
I had high expectations for this one since I always enjoyed Le Fanu's short stories.
However, Uncle Silas sadly fell a bit flat for me.
The way he was described, I anticipated the titular antagonist to be a blend between a Mr. Rochester and an Ann Radcliffe Gothic villain. This was not how he turned out to be.
I also found the supernatural elements unsatisfying as well as some plot points, as they ultimately led nowhere. The novel would have benefitted from being shorter.
What was really interesting however, is the depiction of Silas' daughter, Milly, who was really free-spirited and not at all what you would expect of a Victorian girl and Lady Knollys, Maud's (the narrator's) cousin who was an assertive independent woman. I also liked how the author weaved some Celtic elements into his story.

[F.R. · Rating 2 out of 5]

For a melodramatic Sensation novel, with a plot containing all kinds of familial deception, this is actually quite dull. To be fair the opening is well crafted and tense, with the heroine menaced by a sinister French governess. However the middle (ironically, from when Uncle Silas himself is introduced) is far too long and uneventful and it’s only the last fifty or so pages when genuine drama resurfaces.

Furthermore, even by the standards of Victorian male writers, Le Fanu’s heroine is limp and insipid. There was actually part of me hoping that something dreadful would happen to her just to shut her up.

Yet more proof (if any was needed) that ‘The Woman in White’ sits at the pinnacle of Sensation fiction.