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The Grotesque
This exuberantly spooky novel, in which horror, repressed eroticism, and sulfurous social comedy intertwine like the vines in an overgrown English garden, is now a major motion picture, starring Alan Bates, Sting, and Theresa Russell.
194 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1989
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2360 people want to read
About the author
Patrick McGrath
96 books564 followersPatrick McGrath was born in London and grew up near Broadmoor Hospital where his father was Medical Superintendent. He was educated at Stonyhurst College. He is a British novelist whose work has been categorized as gothic fiction. He is married to actress Maria Aitken and lives in New York City.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 177 reviews
October 31, 2015
Do you know the filthiest dirty joke ever told? It begins with a family of entertainers walking into a talent agent's office, who asks them to perform their act; the joke's midsection depends on the teller, who then ad-libs the most vile, lewd and disgusting things imaginable: murder, rape, pedophilia, incest and others. The joke ends with the shocked talent agent asking: "what is this act called?", to which the family responds with unusual flourish: "The Aristocrats!"
Decadence and eventual degradation - economical, physical but most importantly moral - of the aristocracy and general upper class is a subject of many novels, among them The Grotesque - in which it is taken to a truly grotesque level. Much like McGrath's second novel, Spider, his debut novel The Grotesque is a work of modern Gothic fiction, with a strong central figure of the main protagonist and narrator.
Set in Crook Manon, a Gothic mansion in the English countryside, The Grotesque is narrated by sir Hugo Coal, a self-described paleontologist, scholar and traveler, who is both suspicious of and repulsed by Fledge, his butler, whom he suspects of feeling exactly the same way about him. This would not be anything new or particularly interesting, were it not for the fact that sir Hugo is completely paralyzed - locked in after what he describes as a "cerebral accident", which left him "for all intents and purposes a vegetable". No one can know if he is conscious - his doctor denies the possibility - but he is biologically alive, and spends what remains of his days in a wheelchair, imprisoned in his own body.
Dennis Clegg, the narrator of Spider was a troubled but ultimately likable character; it's easy for the reader to sympathize with him and care for him, as his mental state begins to unravel. In comparison, sir Hugo is thoroughly repulsive - but also infinitely funnier. Dennis's narration is often desperate, a plea for help; sir Hugo calmly recollects what we might perceive as his worst moments, not even troubling to excuse any of them since these are not his worst moments; this is just how he is. A misogynist and a homophobe, sir Hugo proudly recalls how he terrorized everyone around the mansion and lusted after the Butler's wife, while at the same time completely ignoring his own. Fledge, sir Hugo's nemesis, is an ideal Gothic villain - despite witnessing sir Hugo fiddling with his wife he remains calm and collected, which makes sir Hugo despise him even more.
The theme of decay runs throughout this book on multiple levels - the physical decay of sir Hugo's paralyzed body and the growing decay of his mental state, the decay of his marriage and aristocratic influence in his own house. No Gothic novel would be complete without a murder, and there is a murder in The Grotesque - and a particularly ghastly one; a young and promising student, engaged to sir Hugo's daughter and aptly named Sidney Giblet will be dispatched from the world in a particularly gruesome way. The question is - who did it? Of course sir Hugo points the finger at the proverbial butler, but did he? Can we know what happened if the person telling us the story is not even able to prove that he is alive, and is a massive prick?
The novel is remarkable because of sir Hugo's engaging narration, who is entirely oblivious to the fact at how revolting he is, and is at times almost a pastiche of itself - though always conscious and never venturing into camp territory. The humor in this novel is as funny as it is black: sir Hugo, himself a dinosaur and a relic, has spent 20 years of his life to reconstruct a massive skeleton of a "phlegmosaurus" which he keeps in a shed, now abandoned and overgrowing with moss after his accident - much like he himself is slowly growing into his wheelchair; the various names of people and places, such as the Ceck parish in Berkshire, on the river Fling and near Ceck's Bottom; the mentioned unfortunate Giblet, and the Crook estate housing a remarkable Crook as its master.
Like Spider, The Grotesque has also been adapted into a film which I have not seen, though this one seems to be a rather obscure adaptation. The novel, though, is certainly worth reading for sir Hugo alone, and his remarkable narration - read the first few pages; if you like them, you're certainly going to enjoy what comes after, a not very scary but truly grotesque story told to you by - who else? - The Aristocrat!
Decadence and eventual degradation - economical, physical but most importantly moral - of the aristocracy and general upper class is a subject of many novels, among them The Grotesque - in which it is taken to a truly grotesque level. Much like McGrath's second novel, Spider, his debut novel The Grotesque is a work of modern Gothic fiction, with a strong central figure of the main protagonist and narrator.
Set in Crook Manon, a Gothic mansion in the English countryside, The Grotesque is narrated by sir Hugo Coal, a self-described paleontologist, scholar and traveler, who is both suspicious of and repulsed by Fledge, his butler, whom he suspects of feeling exactly the same way about him. This would not be anything new or particularly interesting, were it not for the fact that sir Hugo is completely paralyzed - locked in after what he describes as a "cerebral accident", which left him "for all intents and purposes a vegetable". No one can know if he is conscious - his doctor denies the possibility - but he is biologically alive, and spends what remains of his days in a wheelchair, imprisoned in his own body.
Dennis Clegg, the narrator of Spider was a troubled but ultimately likable character; it's easy for the reader to sympathize with him and care for him, as his mental state begins to unravel. In comparison, sir Hugo is thoroughly repulsive - but also infinitely funnier. Dennis's narration is often desperate, a plea for help; sir Hugo calmly recollects what we might perceive as his worst moments, not even troubling to excuse any of them since these are not his worst moments; this is just how he is. A misogynist and a homophobe, sir Hugo proudly recalls how he terrorized everyone around the mansion and lusted after the Butler's wife, while at the same time completely ignoring his own. Fledge, sir Hugo's nemesis, is an ideal Gothic villain - despite witnessing sir Hugo fiddling with his wife he remains calm and collected, which makes sir Hugo despise him even more.
The theme of decay runs throughout this book on multiple levels - the physical decay of sir Hugo's paralyzed body and the growing decay of his mental state, the decay of his marriage and aristocratic influence in his own house. No Gothic novel would be complete without a murder, and there is a murder in The Grotesque - and a particularly ghastly one; a young and promising student, engaged to sir Hugo's daughter and aptly named Sidney Giblet will be dispatched from the world in a particularly gruesome way. The question is - who did it? Of course sir Hugo points the finger at the proverbial butler, but did he? Can we know what happened if the person telling us the story is not even able to prove that he is alive, and is a massive prick?
The novel is remarkable because of sir Hugo's engaging narration, who is entirely oblivious to the fact at how revolting he is, and is at times almost a pastiche of itself - though always conscious and never venturing into camp territory. The humor in this novel is as funny as it is black: sir Hugo, himself a dinosaur and a relic, has spent 20 years of his life to reconstruct a massive skeleton of a "phlegmosaurus" which he keeps in a shed, now abandoned and overgrowing with moss after his accident - much like he himself is slowly growing into his wheelchair; the various names of people and places, such as the Ceck parish in Berkshire, on the river Fling and near Ceck's Bottom; the mentioned unfortunate Giblet, and the Crook estate housing a remarkable Crook as its master.
Like Spider, The Grotesque has also been adapted into a film which I have not seen, though this one seems to be a rather obscure adaptation. The novel, though, is certainly worth reading for sir Hugo alone, and his remarkable narration - read the first few pages; if you like them, you're certainly going to enjoy what comes after, a not very scary but truly grotesque story told to you by - who else? - The Aristocrat!
February 6, 2023
A strange mash-up of The Remains of the Day and one of the Blandings books. The short novel is narrated by Sir Hugo Coal a gentleman paleontologist. Like his name and that which he studies he is something of an anachronism. Faded gentry living in a crumbling stately pile that is as full of buckets catching leaks as priceless antiques. He wears his country tweeds and in lieu of a proper job he dedicates his days to constructing a dinosaur out of bones he found in Africa and writing his thesis positing that dinosaurs were more bird than reptile. To keep up appearances Hugo’s wife Harriet gratuitously employs a butler and his wife as housekeeper. Fledge is no Jeeves, he is sardonic and makes Hugo uncomfortable while his wife is an alcoholic who starts out well enough but by the end of the book is serving raw joints at table but they are the best the Coal’s can afford.
Added into this mix is Sir Hugo’s daughter, still living at home, and her fiancé, Sidney, who is somewhat of a drip and has morphed from visitor to permanent fixture. It is no wonder with this cast of goofs that our dinosaur loving narrator spends so much time in his barn alone. So far, so Wodehouse (especially the scene where Hugo has his 20 year old giant toad brought to the dinner table and placed on it so it can feast on maggots from the master’s plate) and then Sidney goes missing on a bike ride.
What actually happens to Sidney is up for debate as we only have the narrator’s version of events and the reader does not need Columboesque gut feelings to know that he is unreliable at best and untruthful at most likely. His recount is a jumble of illicit meetings and stolen kisses, wrong men accused and positions being usurped. From the outset we know he is suffering locked-in syndrome, and the novel is the journey of how that came to pass or rather how Hugo sees it came to pass. As the reader we can only surmise the actual events from what is said and, even more, by what Hugo omits.
A book full of grotesques and hackneyed, could even be described as lazy, cliches of the post-war, English upper-classes which is mildly amusing and spins a yarn that, like all good yarns, has the truth hidden under heavy winding if you only have the patience to unravel it.
Added into this mix is Sir Hugo’s daughter, still living at home, and her fiancé, Sidney, who is somewhat of a drip and has morphed from visitor to permanent fixture. It is no wonder with this cast of goofs that our dinosaur loving narrator spends so much time in his barn alone. So far, so Wodehouse (especially the scene where Hugo has his 20 year old giant toad brought to the dinner table and placed on it so it can feast on maggots from the master’s plate) and then Sidney goes missing on a bike ride.
What actually happens to Sidney is up for debate as we only have the narrator’s version of events and the reader does not need Columboesque gut feelings to know that he is unreliable at best and untruthful at most likely. His recount is a jumble of illicit meetings and stolen kisses, wrong men accused and positions being usurped. From the outset we know he is suffering locked-in syndrome, and the novel is the journey of how that came to pass or rather how Hugo sees it came to pass. As the reader we can only surmise the actual events from what is said and, even more, by what Hugo omits.
A book full of grotesques and hackneyed, could even be described as lazy, cliches of the post-war, English upper-classes which is mildly amusing and spins a yarn that, like all good yarns, has the truth hidden under heavy winding if you only have the patience to unravel it.
July 19, 2023
One of the best unreliable narrator tales I have read in some time, The Grotesque is told by Sir Hugo Coal, the head of an old, fading estate in the English countryside circa 1949. The Coal estate now consists of the leakly manor house, a few outbuildings and a pig farm. In some ways, The Grotesque parables the decline of the English aristocracy post WWII. Hugo is 'old school' for sure, and to keep up the 'proprieties', they still have a handful of servants. Hugo entertains himself as a gentleman naturalist, with an interest in paleontology; in particular, some old dinosaur bones he dug up in Africa in the 20s.
From the first few pages, we know Sir Hugo is confined to a wheelchair, unable to move or even speak due to some sort of brain damage (a stroke of some kind we later figure out). The tale begins about six months before the tragedy struck him down, and continues roughly six months after it. The heart of the story concerns the new butler and cook Sir Hugo's wife hired after their last butler passed away. Sir Hugo outright states that the new butler, Fledge, has his little devious heart set upon taking over the estate, but alas, he lacks empirical proof to that claim; his case is built upon small innuendos and later, hypothetical musings due to his 'grotesque' new self after returning from the hospital after his stroke.
McGrath also tosses in a mystery, the murder of the fiancée of Sir Hugo's daughter while he was at the Coal estate courting her. It seems one evening the fiancée took a bicycle to the nearest village to mail a letter to his mother in London and never returned. Did he just run off or was he killed? If he was killed, why? This becomes the central mystery that underpins Sir Hugo's ruminations.
Despite being unreliable, you almost have to pull for old Sir Hugo, the pompous, haughty lord of the manor. He knows he has been a terrible husband and indifferent father to his two children, insists on maintaining aristocratic 'proprieties' despite how much he loathes them, and basically is a misanthrope writ large. The manor house is crumbling, the roof leaks, the plumbing is falling apart, but you must still dress for dinner!
All in all, a charming read that will leave you guessing in the end. McGrath's prose flows nicely and the humor, while often dark, animates the pages. Nice peace of literary fiction that could also be classified as historical fiction. As a parable for the decline of the 'landed elites', it also works well. Strong, well developed characters and lots of sublity make for an engaging read. 4.5 grotesque stars!!
From the first few pages, we know Sir Hugo is confined to a wheelchair, unable to move or even speak due to some sort of brain damage (a stroke of some kind we later figure out). The tale begins about six months before the tragedy struck him down, and continues roughly six months after it. The heart of the story concerns the new butler and cook Sir Hugo's wife hired after their last butler passed away. Sir Hugo outright states that the new butler, Fledge, has his little devious heart set upon taking over the estate, but alas, he lacks empirical proof to that claim; his case is built upon small innuendos and later, hypothetical musings due to his 'grotesque' new self after returning from the hospital after his stroke.
McGrath also tosses in a mystery, the murder of the fiancée of Sir Hugo's daughter while he was at the Coal estate courting her. It seems one evening the fiancée took a bicycle to the nearest village to mail a letter to his mother in London and never returned. Did he just run off or was he killed? If he was killed, why? This becomes the central mystery that underpins Sir Hugo's ruminations.
Despite being unreliable, you almost have to pull for old Sir Hugo, the pompous, haughty lord of the manor. He knows he has been a terrible husband and indifferent father to his two children, insists on maintaining aristocratic 'proprieties' despite how much he loathes them, and basically is a misanthrope writ large. The manor house is crumbling, the roof leaks, the plumbing is falling apart, but you must still dress for dinner!
All in all, a charming read that will leave you guessing in the end. McGrath's prose flows nicely and the humor, while often dark, animates the pages. Nice peace of literary fiction that could also be classified as historical fiction. As a parable for the decline of the 'landed elites', it also works well. Strong, well developed characters and lots of sublity make for an engaging read. 4.5 grotesque stars!!
May 10, 2018
L’origine del termine grottesco risale alle pitture e agli affreschi ritrovati in antiche grotte e in ville romane. Per l’esagerazione o alterazione di alcuni aspetti dei soggetti rappresentati esso giunse più tardi a definire un vero e proprio genere letterario. Si tratta sempre della rappresentazione di una situazione ai limiti della realtà in cui vengono evidenziati ed esasperati gli aspetti più comici e paradossali. il romanzo di McGrath offre una piacevole e arguta sintesi di tutti questi aspetti. Con uno stile impeccabile, l’autore crea personaggi inquietanti come il maggiordomo Fledge, oppure apparentemente legati alle convenzioni sociali, come Harriet o fragili e sensibili come Cleo. Ogni personaggio viene visto attraverso gli occhi del narratore Sir Hugo Coal, che, vittima di un incidente, è condannato a vivere su una sedia a rotelle apparentemente ridotto a uno stato vegetale.
Fledge è l’elemento “satanico” del romanzo, a lui, Sir Hugo attribuisce l’intenzione di usurpare il suo posto . Il risulto è una trama avvolgente ed intrigante, in quanto non si è mai sicuri di quale potrebbe essere la realtà , ci si trova quasi sempre ai confini tra reale e fantastico . Ma questo e’ McGrath , la sua vena di follia pulsera’ avidamente e fino all’ultima pagina non vi dara’ pace. E forse nemmeno l’ultima pagina plachera’ i vostri dubbi, perche' con questo autore, non sempre è quello che sembra??
Fledge è l’elemento “satanico” del romanzo, a lui, Sir Hugo attribuisce l’intenzione di usurpare il suo posto . Il risulto è una trama avvolgente ed intrigante, in quanto non si è mai sicuri di quale potrebbe essere la realtà , ci si trova quasi sempre ai confini tra reale e fantastico . Ma questo e’ McGrath , la sua vena di follia pulsera’ avidamente e fino all’ultima pagina non vi dara’ pace. E forse nemmeno l’ultima pagina plachera’ i vostri dubbi, perche' con questo autore, non sempre è quello che sembra??
April 16, 2016
Brilliantly written and very, very funny. The only negative thing I can say about this book is that it caused me to laugh so hard that a snot bubble came out of my nose in the middle of a crowded commuter train. I would describe it as a malevolent Jeeves and Wooster with a dash of Dorian Gray, and I don’t just mean the storyline - the quality of writing stands worthy comparison with P.G. Wodehouse and Oscar Wilde. I’m amazed Patrick McGrath isn’t more widely known and celebrated.
November 13, 2013
Clearly demonstrating that it is never too late to embark on the career for which you were intended, Patrick McGrath's first novel, "The Grotesque," was released in May 1989, when its author was pushing 40 years old. Although the Englishman had come out with a volume of shorter pieces earlier that year ("Blood and Water and Other Tales"), "The Grotesque" was his first foray into the world of the longer form, and was, happily, a stunning success. As of 2013, and having just released his eighth novel, "Constance," McGrath is deemed one of our leading purveyors of what has come to be called "the new Gothic," and a look at his first novel will indicate that his considerable writing ability was already fully formed, right near the beginning.
In the book, we meet a cranky, curmudgeonly, highly unlikable British squire--and professional paleontologist--named Sir Hugo Coal. Coal tells us his story several months after having suffered a paralyzing stroke. Now confined to a wheelchair, unable to move or speak, he thinks back on the events of the previous eight months or so at his Berkshire estate, Crook Manor. (The fact that Sir Hugo could not possibly have managed to write or dictate this memoir in his current state may be seen as an inherent flaw in McGrath's novel...or as just one more bit of head-scratching strangeness, in a book filled with so much.) Things had started to fall apart at Crook when his wife, Lady Harriet, had hired a new butler and maid, Mr. and Mrs. Fledge. As Sir Hugo tells us, Fledge had silently mocked his master, seduced his wife, and had even been spotted by Coal himself in the middle of a tryst with Sir Hugo's future son-in-law, Sidney Giblet. When Giblet (the book is replete with outlandish character names) went missing, Coal immediately suspected Fledge of foul play, and when Sidney's buried remains later turned up in the middle of nearby Ceck Marsh, our narrator became even more convinced of his butler's nefarious schemes. But how to prove his suspicions?
Readers who thought that the members of TV's Addams family constituted a bizarre household will love reading Sir Hugo's account of his own domestic situation. He himself is a gloomy old coot who spends his days assembling dinosaur bones in the barn; Harriet is a prim and proper biddy who is nevertheless only too willing to give in to her butler's licentious advances; Cleo, the Coals' 18-year-old daughter, is a depressive, suicidal mess, especially after Sidney's remains are found; Mrs. Fledge is a, uh, full-fledged alcoholic; and Fledge himself...well, the man is a cipher of sorts, a blank slate on whom Coal manages to foist all his dark suspicions. As unreliable a narrator as has ever told an untrustworthy story, Sir Hugo himself reveals that his memory is faulty, that his paralyzed isolation has perforce limited his worldview, that he hallucinates frequently, and that he knows that he is telling his story in a faulty order. So ultimately, we don't quite know what to believe, and the solution of Sidney Giblet's murder remains somewhat nebulous. However, as author Peter H. Cannon writes, when discussing why he chose this novel for inclusion in the excellent overview volume "Horror: Another 100 Best Books," the resolution of the book's central crime "is ultimately of less interest than [McGrath's] memorable portrait of his unreliable narrator as well as of [the book's] minor characters...." In this book, atmosphere and characterization are paramount to everything except a love of language, and my goodness, what a remarkably great writer Patrick McGrath turns out to be! Offhand, I cannot recall a writer whose use of language has so impressed me since I read Mark Helprin's "Winter's Tale" several decades ago. To read this book (and yes, it HAS been my introduction to McGrath's work) is to want to devour many more by this terrific author. It is simply astonishing that "The Grotesque" was McGrath's first novel, and makes one wonder what the author had been doing with his life prior to 1989 (working in a north Ontario institution--which doubtlessly gave McGrath a great background for his psychological tales--and as a teacher in the Queen Charlotte Islands off British Columbia, as it turns out). McGrath always seems to know just the right word to use--his vocabulary is immense--and just the right macabre detail to throw in. In short, this is a masterly first novel; a most impressive debut. I was only able to detect one other minor flaw in the entire book: Coal tells us that he had first met his gardener, George Lecky, more than 25 years earlier (the tale takes place in 1949); so that would be 1924 or earlier, right? But a little later, Coal sets the date of their first meeting as 1926. But I am certainly willing to concede that this might be just another bit of unreliable detail on the part of our stroke-addled narrator.
"The Grotesque" was turned into a film in 1995 and features what I would imagine to be a perfectly well-cast Alan Bates as Sir Hugo and Sting as the mysterious Fledge. Theresa Russell, an actress whom I greatly admire, would seem to be an unlikely choice for Lady Harriet, a plump redhead in McGrath's book, and I am now greatly interested in catching this film, to see if Theresa did indeed manage to pull this characterization off. The film does not enjoy a good reputation (unlike the filmization of McGrath's second novel, 1990's "Spider," as brought to life by David Cronenberg in 2002), and it would be difficult indeed to live up to McGrath's original conception, with its booklength interior monologue and gorgeous use of language...despite the fact that McGrath DID write the screenplay himself. Creepy, spooky, at times hilarious and beautiful, macabre and original, memorable and altogether winning, "The Grotesque" novel is certainly a tough act to follow....
In the book, we meet a cranky, curmudgeonly, highly unlikable British squire--and professional paleontologist--named Sir Hugo Coal. Coal tells us his story several months after having suffered a paralyzing stroke. Now confined to a wheelchair, unable to move or speak, he thinks back on the events of the previous eight months or so at his Berkshire estate, Crook Manor. (The fact that Sir Hugo could not possibly have managed to write or dictate this memoir in his current state may be seen as an inherent flaw in McGrath's novel...or as just one more bit of head-scratching strangeness, in a book filled with so much.) Things had started to fall apart at Crook when his wife, Lady Harriet, had hired a new butler and maid, Mr. and Mrs. Fledge. As Sir Hugo tells us, Fledge had silently mocked his master, seduced his wife, and had even been spotted by Coal himself in the middle of a tryst with Sir Hugo's future son-in-law, Sidney Giblet. When Giblet (the book is replete with outlandish character names) went missing, Coal immediately suspected Fledge of foul play, and when Sidney's buried remains later turned up in the middle of nearby Ceck Marsh, our narrator became even more convinced of his butler's nefarious schemes. But how to prove his suspicions?
Readers who thought that the members of TV's Addams family constituted a bizarre household will love reading Sir Hugo's account of his own domestic situation. He himself is a gloomy old coot who spends his days assembling dinosaur bones in the barn; Harriet is a prim and proper biddy who is nevertheless only too willing to give in to her butler's licentious advances; Cleo, the Coals' 18-year-old daughter, is a depressive, suicidal mess, especially after Sidney's remains are found; Mrs. Fledge is a, uh, full-fledged alcoholic; and Fledge himself...well, the man is a cipher of sorts, a blank slate on whom Coal manages to foist all his dark suspicions. As unreliable a narrator as has ever told an untrustworthy story, Sir Hugo himself reveals that his memory is faulty, that his paralyzed isolation has perforce limited his worldview, that he hallucinates frequently, and that he knows that he is telling his story in a faulty order. So ultimately, we don't quite know what to believe, and the solution of Sidney Giblet's murder remains somewhat nebulous. However, as author Peter H. Cannon writes, when discussing why he chose this novel for inclusion in the excellent overview volume "Horror: Another 100 Best Books," the resolution of the book's central crime "is ultimately of less interest than [McGrath's] memorable portrait of his unreliable narrator as well as of [the book's] minor characters...." In this book, atmosphere and characterization are paramount to everything except a love of language, and my goodness, what a remarkably great writer Patrick McGrath turns out to be! Offhand, I cannot recall a writer whose use of language has so impressed me since I read Mark Helprin's "Winter's Tale" several decades ago. To read this book (and yes, it HAS been my introduction to McGrath's work) is to want to devour many more by this terrific author. It is simply astonishing that "The Grotesque" was McGrath's first novel, and makes one wonder what the author had been doing with his life prior to 1989 (working in a north Ontario institution--which doubtlessly gave McGrath a great background for his psychological tales--and as a teacher in the Queen Charlotte Islands off British Columbia, as it turns out). McGrath always seems to know just the right word to use--his vocabulary is immense--and just the right macabre detail to throw in. In short, this is a masterly first novel; a most impressive debut. I was only able to detect one other minor flaw in the entire book: Coal tells us that he had first met his gardener, George Lecky, more than 25 years earlier (the tale takes place in 1949); so that would be 1924 or earlier, right? But a little later, Coal sets the date of their first meeting as 1926. But I am certainly willing to concede that this might be just another bit of unreliable detail on the part of our stroke-addled narrator.
"The Grotesque" was turned into a film in 1995 and features what I would imagine to be a perfectly well-cast Alan Bates as Sir Hugo and Sting as the mysterious Fledge. Theresa Russell, an actress whom I greatly admire, would seem to be an unlikely choice for Lady Harriet, a plump redhead in McGrath's book, and I am now greatly interested in catching this film, to see if Theresa did indeed manage to pull this characterization off. The film does not enjoy a good reputation (unlike the filmization of McGrath's second novel, 1990's "Spider," as brought to life by David Cronenberg in 2002), and it would be difficult indeed to live up to McGrath's original conception, with its booklength interior monologue and gorgeous use of language...despite the fact that McGrath DID write the screenplay himself. Creepy, spooky, at times hilarious and beautiful, macabre and original, memorable and altogether winning, "The Grotesque" novel is certainly a tough act to follow....
October 25, 2024
This was a very unusual gothic novel by McGrath. I read one other book by him several years ago, ASYLUM, which I thought was an interesting look at the criminally insane. In Grotesque, the story is narrated by Sir Hugo Coal who has been paralyzed and is confined to a wheelchair. Hugo is an amateur paleontologist who discovered a dinosaur in Africa that he feels is the predecessor to modern birds. But will the scientific community agree with his theory? Hugo does his scientific work related to the dinosaur in the barn and his family lives in a decaying English manor house called Crook. Hugo believes his butler, Fledge, is out to get him and take over as master of the manor. So is Fledge getting intimate with Hugo's wife? And then what happened to Sidney Giblet, who was the intended to Hugo's daughter. He has disappeared and who is to blame when his bones turn up? Is it Fledge? And how does this relate to Hugo's pig farm and his gardener/pig farmer who Hugo met in Africa? Hugo watches all this from his wheelchair but how reliable is his narrative?
This was enjoyable overall blending a gothic mystery with a comedy of morals. Hugo's narrative is one of the best examples I have read of an unreliable narrator. I have a couple of other books by McGrath that I will look forward to reading.
This was enjoyable overall blending a gothic mystery with a comedy of morals. Hugo's narrative is one of the best examples I have read of an unreliable narrator. I have a couple of other books by McGrath that I will look forward to reading.
January 24, 2025
La trama avvolge ed è intrigante, in quanto non si è mai sicuri di quale potrebbe essere la realtà; ci si trova quasi sempre ai confini tra reale e fantastico e tale confine è nel contempo mobile e sottile. La narrazione è alquanto piacevole dove il macabro si mescola a un sottile umorismo. Libro gradevole
December 23, 2018
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 24, 2019
I was going to say that America has Stephen King, Britain has Patrick McGrath, but actually McGrath is more Gothic than King (perhaps a better representative from America would be Thomas Tryon)
A master of the macabre, this author is known for spewing ghastly tales with a grim and dire, yet lyrical prose. A sense of paranoia and dread is evoked as the reader turns the pages. McGrath's excessive use of commas verges on violating rules of style, (a common pretentiousness of novice authors), yet he manages to carry it off rather adeptly, giving each sentence a lilting balance, almost melodic.
As a connoisseur of ironies, I cannot, now, help recognizing how rich this one is.
Much of his descriptions of people and things border on revolting.
I am humped and cadaverous; my hands lie clawlike on the arms of the wheelchair, and my eyes glaze blankly from a bony sunken head whose jaw has come permanently to rest upon my clavicle.
Behind their hooded flap her eyes too were glittering. Her mouth was smeared with lipstick and her throat swung bagged and cross-hatched from a wrinkled nob of chin flanked by rouged jowls loosely depending from lumpy cheekbones. Powerful gusts of stale scent emanated from the crannies of her person;
Considering the title, it is not surprising that Grotesque is an account of decay and death, physcially and spiritually, as the protagonist, Sir Hugo Coal, recounts the story of his deterioration into a wheel-chair-bound vegetable. From early on, the author, through a subtle nuance of his narrative, plants a seed of doubt in our minds regarding the narrator's version of events, similar to the tactic used in Spider. This has the effect of urging the reader on to get at the truth of the matter.
Despite the dark themes and tone of the book, there is also wit and humor, albeit of the black kind.
This book is not for everyone, 40% of reviewers gave the book 3 stars or less. My opinions on this author are very subjective. I can't explain it - he just moves me.
A master of the macabre, this author is known for spewing ghastly tales with a grim and dire, yet lyrical prose. A sense of paranoia and dread is evoked as the reader turns the pages. McGrath's excessive use of commas verges on violating rules of style, (a common pretentiousness of novice authors), yet he manages to carry it off rather adeptly, giving each sentence a lilting balance, almost melodic.
As a connoisseur of ironies, I cannot, now, help recognizing how rich this one is.
Much of his descriptions of people and things border on revolting.
I am humped and cadaverous; my hands lie clawlike on the arms of the wheelchair, and my eyes glaze blankly from a bony sunken head whose jaw has come permanently to rest upon my clavicle.
Behind their hooded flap her eyes too were glittering. Her mouth was smeared with lipstick and her throat swung bagged and cross-hatched from a wrinkled nob of chin flanked by rouged jowls loosely depending from lumpy cheekbones. Powerful gusts of stale scent emanated from the crannies of her person;
Considering the title, it is not surprising that Grotesque is an account of decay and death, physcially and spiritually, as the protagonist, Sir Hugo Coal, recounts the story of his deterioration into a wheel-chair-bound vegetable. From early on, the author, through a subtle nuance of his narrative, plants a seed of doubt in our minds regarding the narrator's version of events, similar to the tactic used in Spider. This has the effect of urging the reader on to get at the truth of the matter.
Despite the dark themes and tone of the book, there is also wit and humor, albeit of the black kind.
This book is not for everyone, 40% of reviewers gave the book 3 stars or less. My opinions on this author are very subjective. I can't explain it - he just moves me.
March 3, 2018
Perhaps the ultimate unreliable narrator, Sir Hugo Coal is paralyzed. He can't communicate, except through this novel. Aristocratic, entitled, and horribly class-conscious, he oversees his manor, Crook, in England. He likes things just so, and he has no tolerance for those who differ with his opinions. He's a little difficult to like. Even if he's a paleontologist.
A new man-servant and his wife are hired. Hugo dislikes them. Distrusts them. He also dislikes his daughter's fiancé. He ignores his wife, and worries excessively about his academic reputation. He thinks dinosaurs turned into birds and this idea is more important to him than the living people in his life. Then things go wrong. He discovers his daughter's fiancé in a gay relationship with the man-servant. Snobbish and intolerant, he has no sympathy for such forbidden love. Then the boy disappears.
So much of the novel is inference. After Hugo becomes paralyzed he can't actually investigate and much of the story is his reconstruction of what happened. One gets the sense that his disregard for people has led to his sad situation. His best friend is accused of the murder. The man-servant, he describes in great detail, is sleeping with his wife. And all along the reader doesn't know if any of this is actually happening.
Parts of the novel are quite funny, and some actually pretty gothic, but overall there are too many question-marks. Significant events happen and are simply dropped. And when it's over you never really know if any of it was real, beyond the accident that left the narrator paralyzed.
A new man-servant and his wife are hired. Hugo dislikes them. Distrusts them. He also dislikes his daughter's fiancé. He ignores his wife, and worries excessively about his academic reputation. He thinks dinosaurs turned into birds and this idea is more important to him than the living people in his life. Then things go wrong. He discovers his daughter's fiancé in a gay relationship with the man-servant. Snobbish and intolerant, he has no sympathy for such forbidden love. Then the boy disappears.
So much of the novel is inference. After Hugo becomes paralyzed he can't actually investigate and much of the story is his reconstruction of what happened. One gets the sense that his disregard for people has led to his sad situation. His best friend is accused of the murder. The man-servant, he describes in great detail, is sleeping with his wife. And all along the reader doesn't know if any of this is actually happening.
Parts of the novel are quite funny, and some actually pretty gothic, but overall there are too many question-marks. Significant events happen and are simply dropped. And when it's over you never really know if any of it was real, beyond the accident that left the narrator paralyzed.
September 21, 2012
This is the second book I’ve read by Patrick McGrath coming fast on the heels of his original collection, “Blood and Water and Other Tales”. “The Grotesque” echoed some of the darker and stranger stories found in that previous read. As a whole it was very dark, Gothic, and, to me, ponderous. There are a few passages where action occurs quickly, but for most of the book the pace is languid.
Perhaps this is to reinforce the somber tone of the story or the state of the first-person narrator. No matter what the reason it makes the book weigh heavily on the reader as they wend through the shaky recollections of Sir Hugo Coal. Plots and motivations float through the head of Sir Hugo as he recounts past events. At times he only gives us a dim view of the past at others we see and hear the action as it happened.
The last of a *ahem* dying breed, he is a gentleman naturalist interested in paleontology and, of course, dinosaurs (often considered slow and ponderous). His is the quiet, bucolic life of a country gentleman puttering about with a collection of bones dug up in Africa many years ago. Yep. A quiet man, a nice man, that is to say, when he is not raging in his own hall, accosting and being accosted by the help (two different ones), dealing or avoiding distraught women, attempting to upend the decades-old taxonomy of official scientists, or having a seizure.
Purposefully, the story is murky in places. The central crime and some of the lesser mysteries are never solved, despite his constant suspicions. The progression of transgressions and crimes escalates throughout the book. The descriptions of items and people are often ornate and gratuitous. The author gleefully (this is only conjecture on my part) mocks “serious gothic literature” with his plot and characters. But at the same time he captures the air of such stories, reminding me at times of Poe.
I have to admit that the death of Sidney and the final revelations of that event amused the heck out of me. So, sue me. I have a black heart, to which I truthfully admit.
This book feels like it was written by an outstanding author, but one who perhaps hasn’t turned in his best work or hasn’t yet grown to that “greatness” that we believe is within him. Like other books that rely heavily on a familiar backdrop (in this case British language and cultural nuances) to which I am not completely privy, I feel like I ought to have enjoyed it more than I did. But even so, I think I would be dissatisfied with the whole. It’s a very solid, very demanding book, but I can only give it “3” to “3.5” stars.
The jury awaits “Spider” as our next witness.
Perhaps this is to reinforce the somber tone of the story or the state of the first-person narrator. No matter what the reason it makes the book weigh heavily on the reader as they wend through the shaky recollections of Sir Hugo Coal. Plots and motivations float through the head of Sir Hugo as he recounts past events. At times he only gives us a dim view of the past at others we see and hear the action as it happened.
The last of a *ahem* dying breed, he is a gentleman naturalist interested in paleontology and, of course, dinosaurs (often considered slow and ponderous). His is the quiet, bucolic life of a country gentleman puttering about with a collection of bones dug up in Africa many years ago. Yep. A quiet man, a nice man, that is to say, when he is not raging in his own hall, accosting and being accosted by the help (two different ones), dealing or avoiding distraught women, attempting to upend the decades-old taxonomy of official scientists, or having a seizure.
Purposefully, the story is murky in places. The central crime and some of the lesser mysteries are never solved, despite his constant suspicions. The progression of transgressions and crimes escalates throughout the book. The descriptions of items and people are often ornate and gratuitous. The author gleefully (this is only conjecture on my part) mocks “serious gothic literature” with his plot and characters. But at the same time he captures the air of such stories, reminding me at times of Poe.
I have to admit that the death of Sidney and the final revelations of that event amused the heck out of me. So, sue me. I have a black heart, to which I truthfully admit.
This book feels like it was written by an outstanding author, but one who perhaps hasn’t turned in his best work or hasn’t yet grown to that “greatness” that we believe is within him. Like other books that rely heavily on a familiar backdrop (in this case British language and cultural nuances) to which I am not completely privy, I feel like I ought to have enjoyed it more than I did. But even so, I think I would be dissatisfied with the whole. It’s a very solid, very demanding book, but I can only give it “3” to “3.5” stars.
The jury awaits “Spider” as our next witness.
May 22, 2015
Qui non c'è il McGrath di Follia che fa precipitare il lettore nella follia del protagonista, né il McGrath di Spider che ci trascina nella mente di uno schizofrenico. Qui c'è tutto e niente, tutto è il contrario di tutto.
Grottesco non è solo il titolo del libro, ma è anche la storia che qui si narra e i personaggi che ne fanno parte. È tutto paradossale e assurdo.
Forse il senso, il significato è proprio questo: il paradosso, la deformità che si nasconde in ognuno di noi impedendoci andare oltre.
Se volete leggere qualcosa di questo autore, consiglio il già sopracitato Follia, capolavoro indiscusso.
Grottesco non è solo il titolo del libro, ma è anche la storia che qui si narra e i personaggi che ne fanno parte. È tutto paradossale e assurdo.
Forse il senso, il significato è proprio questo: il paradosso, la deformità che si nasconde in ognuno di noi impedendoci andare oltre.
Se volete leggere qualcosa di questo autore, consiglio il già sopracitato Follia, capolavoro indiscusso.
September 12, 2008
This is a weird one. It had enough in it to keep me reading, but I think I only stuck with it because it was on the short side. Lots of people have commended McGrath for his writing style, but I found it a bit over done and taxing. I appreciate what he is trying to accomplish here, but it just didn't work for me. No one is sympathetic, let alone the narrator, and the ending bit the big one. Witty? Insightful? Clever? No. No. No. Great idea, poorly executed.
March 31, 2020
Tanto intrigante quanto poco soddisfacente.
September 15, 2009
There are flashes of brilliance here, but The Grotesque is often painfully ponderous and overcooked. A shorter, less adorned version of this story could have been pretty good. For me though, the set-up was barely interesting enough to keep reading - perhaps the repressed homosexuality stuff was more shocking when this was published 20 years ago. I will say that the corpse being fed to the pigs almost got this to three stars - almost.
January 15, 2025
Titolo veramente azzeccato, descrive perfettamente il contenuto del romanzo: voltando pagina non sai se ti imbatterai in un sogno sui dinosauri oppure una descrizione delle fantasie erotiche del protagonista con la sua governante ubriacona.
January 27, 2025
McGrath scrive sempre bene, nulla da dire. Da questa storia, un po' diversa dai suoi thriller psicologici, forse mi aspettavo almeno un colpo di scena finale. È stata comunque una lettura piacevole.
April 3, 2021
Non male, anche se un po' claustrofobico; il finale non spiega niente, è aperto a più congetture.
November 6, 2012
Patrick McGrath, intelligente, ma non si applica. Anzi, si applica, ma senza successo perché proprio sulla parte conclusiva del lavoro si lascia andare. Un libro senza capo né coda che tiene incollati per le prime duecento pagine e che ti fa innervosire sulle ultime quattordici perché non arriva la conclusione e in un libro così o risolvi oppure non si capisce bene dove vuoi andare a parare, e questa sconclusionatezza io non intendo tollerarla. Curato il lato della black comedy (come da copertina), ma la grande letteratura gotica (sempre come da copertina) dov'è? Grottesco è il libro, non solo il titolo, nel senso che è una penosa caricatura di un thriller psicologico mal riuscito. E due. Non ci siamo proprio McGrath. Dopo 'Follia' ti ho dato un'altra possibilità, ma a questo punto le nostre strade si separano. Spero esista qualcuno che ti sappia apprezzare.
May 31, 2013
Between the description of an 'infinitesimal glass of sherry', the litany of cutesy place names ('Crook Manor', 'Ceck's Bottom', 'Pock-on-the-Fling') and actually reminding the reader in as many words that the theme of the book is 'the grotesque', I now know what it's like to read a book with the iconoclastic spirit of Gormenghast as written by an author lacking the wit or idiom to carry it off. It's affected, trite, and tiring. Mostly tiring.
August 19, 2020
Un uomo su una sedia a rotelle , panteologo è ossessionato dall'idea che il maggiordomo voglia prendere il suo posto, voglia diventare lui il padrone.
La trama di per sé non è nulla di che', sulle prime pagine l' inizio non è dei più travolgenti, però scorrendo le pagine la scrittura di McGrath così torbida e grottesca finisce per catturare il lettore.
È interessante perché tutte le vicende vengono narrate dal protagonista, Sir Hugo Coal, suscitando sempre il fastidioso dubbio che siano solo farneticazioni della sua mente, dato che non potrebbe mai avere lui stesso una visione così onnisciente degli eventi narrati.
McGrath ha uno stile unico, di difficile collocazione, nella sua cupezza rimanda allo stile gotico, ma ha in sé qualcosa di nuovo e diverso, non ti trascina in ambientazioni cupe, lui ti trasporta direttamente dentro l'oscura mente del protagonista. È un libro disturbante, non capisci mai quale sia fin in fondo la verità e il finale si rivela essere un pugno allo stomaco, vorresti sapere, ma McGrath lascia serpeggiare l'insinuante dubbio. Non è un libro per tutti, anzi molti potrebbero odiarlo e ritenerlo piuttosto tedioso, perché quello che tiene incollato il lettore non è tanto ciò che accade, ma tanto più la scrittura forbita di McGrath e il suo modo di riprodurre e descrivere il protagonista, nei suoi gesti e pensieri. La psiche del protagonista invade le pagine del libro diventa l' ambiente in cui tutte le paure e ossessioni prendono forma, tanto che il protagonista stesso ne rimane intrappolato perpetuamente, senza riuscire a poter più comunicare con i propri familiari. Forse non è il migliore dei suoi libri, da quello che so è "follia" il libro che lo ha reso celebre, ed è pure il libro che principalmente volevo leggere di questo autore, tuttavia mi è capitato tra le mani con il book crossing e ho deciso di leggerlo. Leggendo altre recensioni, alcuni lo collocano erroneamente al genere "black humor" , ora non so cosa intendano per black humor", ma se si parla di umorismo nero è una connotazione del tutto sbagliata, non c'è umorismo in questo libro. Se invece si parla di "umore nero", di stato d'animo mentale oscuro e distorto si c'è né a bizzeffe in questo libro. Credo che McGrath abbia trovato un titolo perfetto e una collocazione maggiormente in linea con il genere di questo libro "grottesco". Non vedo l'ora di leggere "follia"e altri libri di questo scrittore! Potrebbe diventare il mio scrittore contemporane preferito. Uno dei pochi scrittori contemporanei che mi affascina, soprattutto per la curiosa storia della sua vita, il padre faceva lo psichiatra e lui da bambino ha trascorso gran parte della sua infanzia nei manicomi,e si percepisce nella sua scrittura che è stato a stretto contatto con persone mentalmente disturbate se non ché lui stesso potrebbe essere rimasto mentalmente disturbato da un' infanzia trascorso in questo modo.
Per leggere altre mie recensioni su altri libri passate nel mio blog:
https://librimaniaauroraadry.blogspot...
La trama di per sé non è nulla di che', sulle prime pagine l' inizio non è dei più travolgenti, però scorrendo le pagine la scrittura di McGrath così torbida e grottesca finisce per catturare il lettore.
È interessante perché tutte le vicende vengono narrate dal protagonista, Sir Hugo Coal, suscitando sempre il fastidioso dubbio che siano solo farneticazioni della sua mente, dato che non potrebbe mai avere lui stesso una visione così onnisciente degli eventi narrati.
McGrath ha uno stile unico, di difficile collocazione, nella sua cupezza rimanda allo stile gotico, ma ha in sé qualcosa di nuovo e diverso, non ti trascina in ambientazioni cupe, lui ti trasporta direttamente dentro l'oscura mente del protagonista. È un libro disturbante, non capisci mai quale sia fin in fondo la verità e il finale si rivela essere un pugno allo stomaco, vorresti sapere, ma McGrath lascia serpeggiare l'insinuante dubbio. Non è un libro per tutti, anzi molti potrebbero odiarlo e ritenerlo piuttosto tedioso, perché quello che tiene incollato il lettore non è tanto ciò che accade, ma tanto più la scrittura forbita di McGrath e il suo modo di riprodurre e descrivere il protagonista, nei suoi gesti e pensieri. La psiche del protagonista invade le pagine del libro diventa l' ambiente in cui tutte le paure e ossessioni prendono forma, tanto che il protagonista stesso ne rimane intrappolato perpetuamente, senza riuscire a poter più comunicare con i propri familiari. Forse non è il migliore dei suoi libri, da quello che so è "follia" il libro che lo ha reso celebre, ed è pure il libro che principalmente volevo leggere di questo autore, tuttavia mi è capitato tra le mani con il book crossing e ho deciso di leggerlo. Leggendo altre recensioni, alcuni lo collocano erroneamente al genere "black humor" , ora non so cosa intendano per black humor", ma se si parla di umorismo nero è una connotazione del tutto sbagliata, non c'è umorismo in questo libro. Se invece si parla di "umore nero", di stato d'animo mentale oscuro e distorto si c'è né a bizzeffe in questo libro. Credo che McGrath abbia trovato un titolo perfetto e una collocazione maggiormente in linea con il genere di questo libro "grottesco". Non vedo l'ora di leggere "follia"e altri libri di questo scrittore! Potrebbe diventare il mio scrittore contemporane preferito. Uno dei pochi scrittori contemporanei che mi affascina, soprattutto per la curiosa storia della sua vita, il padre faceva lo psichiatra e lui da bambino ha trascorso gran parte della sua infanzia nei manicomi,e si percepisce nella sua scrittura che è stato a stretto contatto con persone mentalmente disturbate se non ché lui stesso potrebbe essere rimasto mentalmente disturbato da un' infanzia trascorso in questo modo.
Per leggere altre mie recensioni su altri libri passate nel mio blog:
https://librimaniaauroraadry.blogspot...
November 16, 2023
Grandioso romanzo di Patrick McGrath, con una trama gotica particolarmente coinvolgente, "Grottesco" ci narra la storia della famiglia Coal, composta da Sir Hugo, la moglie Harriet e la figlia Cleo. La normale vita di questa famiglia inglese viene stravolta da diversi misteriosi eventi, tra cui un omicidio, che accompagnano l'arrivo del nuovo maggiordomo, Fledge, e di sua moglie Doris. Il maggiordomo, dopo essere entrato nelle grazie della signora Harriet, sembra tramare qualcosa di particolarmente oscuro rispetto al suo ruolo in casa, ma soltanto Sir Hugo sembra accorgersi di quanto stia accadendo.
Ho particolarmente adorato questo romanzo per le descrizioni a dir poco perfette di McGrath. In numerosi passaggi di questa cupa e tremenda storia, troviamo aspetti inquietanti non solo in elementi fisici dei personaggi narrati, ma soprattutto nei loro comportamenti, spesso incomprensibili. L'alone di mistero e la sensazione che qualcosa di terribile e oscuro sia costantemente in agguato, permeano l'intero romanzo, dall'inizio alla fine. Come nel suo capolavoro "Follia", percepiamo l'ambiente circostante, ci immergiamo completamente e riusciamo a sentire persino elementi come la pioggia, il vento e l'umidità. L'antica dimora dei Coal, così sinistra e fatiscente, incute terrore, e queste sensazioni oscure vengono amplificate dalla palude che si trova a poca distanza dalla casa stessa. Buio, desolazione, freddo e silenzio: tutti elementi perfetti per un giallo accattivante.
Il vero gioiello del romanzo però, è senza alcun dubbio la narrazione in prima persona fatta attraverso Sir Hugo, che ripercorre la vicenda raccontando tutto ciò che vede, ma anche quello che immagina e sogna. Questo modo di raccontare la vicenda non fa altro che fondere ciò che sembra vero con ciò che invece appare immaginario: i fatti, le azioni e i dialoghi si mescolano con le paure, il dolore, l'odio e le convinzioni di Sir Hugo, entrano nella testa del lettore e lo fanno perdere in mezzo all'intricato racconto, suscitando a più riprese interrogativi su quanto ci sia di concreto nella sua versione dei fatti. Come in "Follia", anche qui andiamo alla scoperti di quanto possa essere contorta la mente umana; e questa ambiguità tra apparenza e verità, è a mio avviso un elemento straordinario, che non solo mette in evidenza la capacità narrativa dello scrittore, ma che garantisce al lettore un'appassionante ed intrigante lettura.
Consigliatissimo, e se non avete ancora letto "Follia", recuperatelo quanto prima.
Ho particolarmente adorato questo romanzo per le descrizioni a dir poco perfette di McGrath. In numerosi passaggi di questa cupa e tremenda storia, troviamo aspetti inquietanti non solo in elementi fisici dei personaggi narrati, ma soprattutto nei loro comportamenti, spesso incomprensibili. L'alone di mistero e la sensazione che qualcosa di terribile e oscuro sia costantemente in agguato, permeano l'intero romanzo, dall'inizio alla fine. Come nel suo capolavoro "Follia", percepiamo l'ambiente circostante, ci immergiamo completamente e riusciamo a sentire persino elementi come la pioggia, il vento e l'umidità. L'antica dimora dei Coal, così sinistra e fatiscente, incute terrore, e queste sensazioni oscure vengono amplificate dalla palude che si trova a poca distanza dalla casa stessa. Buio, desolazione, freddo e silenzio: tutti elementi perfetti per un giallo accattivante.
Il vero gioiello del romanzo però, è senza alcun dubbio la narrazione in prima persona fatta attraverso Sir Hugo, che ripercorre la vicenda raccontando tutto ciò che vede, ma anche quello che immagina e sogna. Questo modo di raccontare la vicenda non fa altro che fondere ciò che sembra vero con ciò che invece appare immaginario: i fatti, le azioni e i dialoghi si mescolano con le paure, il dolore, l'odio e le convinzioni di Sir Hugo, entrano nella testa del lettore e lo fanno perdere in mezzo all'intricato racconto, suscitando a più riprese interrogativi su quanto ci sia di concreto nella sua versione dei fatti. Come in "Follia", anche qui andiamo alla scoperti di quanto possa essere contorta la mente umana; e questa ambiguità tra apparenza e verità, è a mio avviso un elemento straordinario, che non solo mette in evidenza la capacità narrativa dello scrittore, ma che garantisce al lettore un'appassionante ed intrigante lettura.
Consigliatissimo, e se non avete ancora letto "Follia", recuperatelo quanto prima.
October 31, 2025
well, what the f*ck . . .
(I wrote that in the book at one point as well . . .)
this has to be one of the greatest books i have read for class. i really was not expecting much at first because i read this for my gothic literature class, and I started getting tired of these overused gothic tropes that keep popping up over and over again, but this one was seriously good. i guess this book is an example of the "new gothic," but it's still horrifying, jaw-dropping, and simply grotesque.
i loved the narration. hugo is such a silly dude. he is also probably the epitome of an unreliable narrator. i genuinely don't know what to believe anymore. McGrath does such a brilliant job at blurring fact from fiction through Hugo's perspective, and you genuinely don't know how to interpret any of these moments in the book.
i was also reminded of The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, especially at the end. Not to give anything away, but you can definitely see parallels between Dorian's painting and one of the characters in this book, both decaying. But, like Dorian Gray, this book asks the question, who really is the grotesque one here? who is the moral and immoral one?
all of the characters simply jumped off the page, and the story itself is insanely gripping. McGrath really knows how to get your attention. I genuinely had so much fun reading this one. it's a blast. it's a hoot. if you're looking for some new gothic literature, this one is a must, in my opinion. Ok bye!!!!!!!
(I wrote that in the book at one point as well . . .)
this has to be one of the greatest books i have read for class. i really was not expecting much at first because i read this for my gothic literature class, and I started getting tired of these overused gothic tropes that keep popping up over and over again, but this one was seriously good. i guess this book is an example of the "new gothic," but it's still horrifying, jaw-dropping, and simply grotesque.
i loved the narration. hugo is such a silly dude. he is also probably the epitome of an unreliable narrator. i genuinely don't know what to believe anymore. McGrath does such a brilliant job at blurring fact from fiction through Hugo's perspective, and you genuinely don't know how to interpret any of these moments in the book.
i was also reminded of The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, especially at the end. Not to give anything away, but you can definitely see parallels between Dorian's painting and one of the characters in this book, both decaying. But, like Dorian Gray, this book asks the question, who really is the grotesque one here? who is the moral and immoral one?
all of the characters simply jumped off the page, and the story itself is insanely gripping. McGrath really knows how to get your attention. I genuinely had so much fun reading this one. it's a blast. it's a hoot. if you're looking for some new gothic literature, this one is a must, in my opinion. Ok bye!!!!!!!
April 1, 2023
The protagonist of this book is, without a doubt, the most loathsome, horrid and unpleasant character ever written, and I love him. Hugo Coal is cartoonishly self-centered, irremediably attached to his antiquated, patriarchal views and generally just an awful person: and yet, he writes about himself in such an over the top, self-aggrandizing way that I couldn't help but develop a soft spot for the old bastard.
This is, of course, by design: the story is about the fall of Hugo Coal, about his failings as a person, about all the flaws he is so ready to point out in the people who surround him but incapable of recognising in himself. This isn't an easy book to read: in fact, this isn't a book at all, these are the ramblings of a sick and old man reminiscing about a past long since gone. However, the crooked charm of the narrating protagonist urges you to continue reading, even as the atmosphere of the books keeps getting darker and thicker, even as everything around Hugo falls apart and decays. I'd rate this book a 4,5 out of 5 if not for the lack of half stars in Goodreads.
This is, of course, by design: the story is about the fall of Hugo Coal, about his failings as a person, about all the flaws he is so ready to point out in the people who surround him but incapable of recognising in himself. This isn't an easy book to read: in fact, this isn't a book at all, these are the ramblings of a sick and old man reminiscing about a past long since gone. However, the crooked charm of the narrating protagonist urges you to continue reading, even as the atmosphere of the books keeps getting darker and thicker, even as everything around Hugo falls apart and decays. I'd rate this book a 4,5 out of 5 if not for the lack of half stars in Goodreads.
October 3, 2024
3.5/5⭐️
non è un capolavoro, ma nel complesso è molto carino ed è super adatto a questa stagione. mi ha ricordato molto le vibes di “abbiamo sempre vissuto nel castello” di Shirley Jackson e di “il giro di vite” di Henry James; quindi, se vi sono piaciuti questi libri, vi consiglio di leggerlo (anche se, a mio parere, non è al loro livello).
in ogni caso, dopo aver amato “follia” e aver apprezzato anche questo libro, leggerò sicuramente altre opere dell’autore.
non è un capolavoro, ma nel complesso è molto carino ed è super adatto a questa stagione. mi ha ricordato molto le vibes di “abbiamo sempre vissuto nel castello” di Shirley Jackson e di “il giro di vite” di Henry James; quindi, se vi sono piaciuti questi libri, vi consiglio di leggerlo (anche se, a mio parere, non è al loro livello).
in ogni caso, dopo aver amato “follia” e aver apprezzato anche questo libro, leggerò sicuramente altre opere dell’autore.
July 24, 2018
Non male come libro, adoro McGrath e il suo stile anche se trovo che questo libro si perda parecchio nella parte finale. Comunque tutto sommato una lettura piacevole e scorrevole
January 1, 2023
Pause midway through this novel to consider just how much of an unpleasant rogue the protagonist, paleontologist and country squire, Sir Hugo Coal, is. And hold that thought. McGrath has hooked you and is about to wind you in.
This is a very cleverly done gothic story that uses other genres, particularly horror, but not enough to earn its label in full.
Middle-aged Sir Hugo is wheelchair-bound, paralysed after a brain injury, unable to move or speak, or so it seems to others at least.
With its cast of Fledge the butler his wife, the alcoholic maid Doris, Hugo’s quirky wife Harriet and mentally unstable daughter Cleo, and her dimwitted fiancé Sidney Giblet, there is an air of Brideshead or Upstairs Downstairs about proceedings, and certainly plenty of humour.
Sidney disappears, along with his bike, perhaps into the marsh..
Hugo watches anonymously from his wheelchair while Fledge seduces Harriet.
But Hugo has seen Flegde in flangrante with Sidney and suspects blackmail and further foul play.
It soon materialises that Sidney has not only been murdered, but chopped into small pieces and served to Sir Hugo’s pigs, thereby turned into the Christmas ham, and eaten by all, including the delightfully described Mrs Giblet, his mother.
By way of farce and horror, we have shifted, rather pleasantly, into whodunnit territory.
I’ll say no more, other than that moment spent considering the roguery of Sir Hugo now is taken over by the thought that he may just be a homosexual vampire, and had fooled us (as well) all along..
It’s cracking stuff, and makes one wonder how a screen adaptation has not yet been commissioned.
This is a very cleverly done gothic story that uses other genres, particularly horror, but not enough to earn its label in full.
Middle-aged Sir Hugo is wheelchair-bound, paralysed after a brain injury, unable to move or speak, or so it seems to others at least.
With its cast of Fledge the butler his wife, the alcoholic maid Doris, Hugo’s quirky wife Harriet and mentally unstable daughter Cleo, and her dimwitted fiancé Sidney Giblet, there is an air of Brideshead or Upstairs Downstairs about proceedings, and certainly plenty of humour.
Sidney disappears, along with his bike, perhaps into the marsh..
Hugo watches anonymously from his wheelchair while Fledge seduces Harriet.
But Hugo has seen Flegde in flangrante with Sidney and suspects blackmail and further foul play.
It soon materialises that Sidney has not only been murdered, but chopped into small pieces and served to Sir Hugo’s pigs, thereby turned into the Christmas ham, and eaten by all, including the delightfully described Mrs Giblet, his mother.
By way of farce and horror, we have shifted, rather pleasantly, into whodunnit territory.
I’ll say no more, other than that moment spent considering the roguery of Sir Hugo now is taken over by the thought that he may just be a homosexual vampire, and had fooled us (as well) all along..
It’s cracking stuff, and makes one wonder how a screen adaptation has not yet been commissioned.
February 15, 2014
I appreciated the dark humor of this Gothic tale, but found it ultimately disappointing. The unreliable narrator, Sir Hugo, is a nasty piece of work, and while his ravings are entertaining they become tiresome after a while. I kept thinking this would have worked better as a novella.
July 10, 2008
Failure to adapt = extinction. Fine!!! I’ll seat on the freaking new chairs but that don’t mean I have to like em!!!
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