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Wisteria Cottage
To Florence Hackett and her daughters Elinor and Louisa, Richard Baurie, a handsome young bookstore clerk and aspiring poet, seems a little odd but harmless enough. With his amusing conversation and his eager-to-please attitude, Richard works his way into the Hacketts’ confidence until he is almost one of the family. When he suggests they rent Wisteria Cottage, a charming seaside residence, it seems to promise a summer of pleasant companionship and fun. What the Hacketts don’t know is that Richard is a deeply troubled individual, recently released from a mental institution, and that their relaxing summer holiday will soon turn into a terrifying nightmare....
A brilliant psychological examination of criminal insanity, Robert M. Coates’s Wisteria Cottage (1948) earned rave reviews on its initial publication and was adapted for the 1958 film noir Edge of Fury. As Mathilde Roza writes in the introduction to this new edition, “the novel has lost nothing of its remarkable power of taking the reader into a disturbed man’s world.”
A brilliant psychological examination of criminal insanity, Robert M. Coates’s Wisteria Cottage (1948) earned rave reviews on its initial publication and was adapted for the 1958 film noir Edge of Fury. As Mathilde Roza writes in the introduction to this new edition, “the novel has lost nothing of its remarkable power of taking the reader into a disturbed man’s world.”
196 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1948
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November 8, 2019
An intense descent into madness, misogyny, and murder. Coates writes a pulp novel with literary flair. His prose rat-a-tat tats in short, sharp bursts, paralleling the bullets of accusation and conjecture that spray from his protagonist's mouth during every interaction. Shots fired outwards, but only rarely hitting their targets - soft bullets, easily dismissed with a laugh and an eye roll; harder bullets fired within, ricocheting around the empty echo chamber of his head. But a gun is not the weapon of choice for idealistic, protective, paranoid, thoroughly demented young Richard. He's bringing an ice pick to the party.
☠ ☠ ☠
☠ ☠ ☠
He smiled slightly. I could make you remember, he thought.He'll give them a night to remember, in the end. But first he will worm his way into their lives, this urban family unit of coquettish mother and two daughters, one shy and in love, the other assertive and suspicious. He will be adopted by them, in a way, their little mascot Richard; in return, he will attempt to control them, he will chafe and burn at every perceived insult, he will love one daughter as he puts her on an untouchable pedestal and loathe the other as he droolingly imagines her every indiscretion. He will find a summer cottage for them all, a home where they can be together as a family, on a lovely lonely shore, an idyllic setting where they can all be who they truly are.
It was a lovely place, all right, hidden, immaculate, secret, inviolate. It was a place where anything might happen.A potentially grueling read is transformed into a scary rollercoaster by the narrative skills, imaginative prose, and sneaky dark humor of the author. This was as fun to read as it was horrible. I grinned and guffawed; I grew fearful and felt a deep, sick dread. Coates is a wonder with the words and an expert marksman to boot: every shot fired hits its target. Richard may slay but he is riddled with the bullets of Coates' derision as well. A derision aimed at a man who yearns to control women, who projects his misogynist viewpoints upon them, who views the world solely through his own toxic perspective. I appreciated Coates' complete lack of empathy with the monster whose head we spend nearly every page in.
☠ ☠ ☠
☠ ☠ ☠
March 30, 2020
A young man's friendship with a woman and her two daughters unravels as the man's mental decline threatens both the relationship and the women's safety. A compelling study of mental illness, and how far a disturbed person will go to establish justice as perceived through his own visions. I found this novel to be well-written, chilling, and very difficult to put down.
4.5 stars
4.5 stars
August 5, 2020
3.5 Stars.
WISTERIA COTTAGE, by Robert M. Coates, was originally published in 1948, and has been re-released by Valancourt Books. This is mainly a work of psychological horror, as we witness one man's descent into madness.
". . . in another sense, weren't life and death identical?. . . "
We follow our main character, Richard Baurnie, a former mental institute resident, who has the ability to "morph" into what people want to see. He easily gets himself a job in a bookstore, where he meets Florence Hackett and her daughters, Elinor and Louisa. He makes himself "a part of their family" and convinces them to rent a rural cottage for the summer months.
"Spring is promises, and the summer is the fulfillment . . . "
The fascinating part of this novel is that we get to watch as Richard's carefully molded facade begins to "slip", allowing his paranoias and delusions to take hold. At times, he vividly redirects his own thoughts, and at others, his reality is altered completely.
"Richard did a number of odd things during that mid-August period. He began to prowl . . . "
While an interesting view fo an unstable mind, there wasn't a lot of focus given to the other characters--except as we see them through Richard's tainted eyes.
". . . He had always hated fearful people . . . and the trouble was that there were so many of them . . ."
Overall, I enjoyed the unique perspective of the novel. However, I would have loved to get more backstory of Richard's time in the Asylum, and how/why he was released. Additionally, I would have liked a little more depth to at least one of the other characters, in order to give a more detailed, contrasting viewpoint.
An interesting psychological study that falls into true terror at the end.
Recommended.
WISTERIA COTTAGE, by Robert M. Coates, was originally published in 1948, and has been re-released by Valancourt Books. This is mainly a work of psychological horror, as we witness one man's descent into madness.
". . . in another sense, weren't life and death identical?. . . "
We follow our main character, Richard Baurnie, a former mental institute resident, who has the ability to "morph" into what people want to see. He easily gets himself a job in a bookstore, where he meets Florence Hackett and her daughters, Elinor and Louisa. He makes himself "a part of their family" and convinces them to rent a rural cottage for the summer months.
"Spring is promises, and the summer is the fulfillment . . . "
The fascinating part of this novel is that we get to watch as Richard's carefully molded facade begins to "slip", allowing his paranoias and delusions to take hold. At times, he vividly redirects his own thoughts, and at others, his reality is altered completely.
"Richard did a number of odd things during that mid-August period. He began to prowl . . . "
While an interesting view fo an unstable mind, there wasn't a lot of focus given to the other characters--except as we see them through Richard's tainted eyes.
". . . He had always hated fearful people . . . and the trouble was that there were so many of them . . ."
Overall, I enjoyed the unique perspective of the novel. However, I would have loved to get more backstory of Richard's time in the Asylum, and how/why he was released. Additionally, I would have liked a little more depth to at least one of the other characters, in order to give a more detailed, contrasting viewpoint.
An interesting psychological study that falls into true terror at the end.
Recommended.
March 30, 2020
I'm calling it a 4.5 but since there is no half-star function I'lll round up rather than down
full post:
https://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/202...
It was the second day of Richard Baurie's three-day walking trip in the Long Island Sound area when he first came upon Wisteria Cottage, set among the dunes overlooking the beach below. It was that moment when, according to the small bit of the Psychiatrist's Report which opens this novel, "even though faintly," a "criminal intention" first entered his brain. There is no clue as to what his "criminal intention" may have been, nor as to why Richard even merits a psychiatrist's report, but it should be apparent at once that we're not dealing with someone psychologically sound here. I have to say up front that Wisteria Cottage is disturbing with a capital D, because from the very beginning the author places his readers into the mind of this young man whose sense of reality is seriously distorted, and keeps us there as Richard's mind begins to slowly but steadily unravel and deteriorate over the course of the summer spent at Wisteria Cottage.
In her informative introduction which should not be missed but read after finishing this book, Professor Mathilde Roza states that the most "memorable aspect" of Wisteria Cottage is the "approach" taken by the author: "never hysterical but always low-key," and quotes Commonweal as remarking that in this book
"No tiled asylums, no mental bedlams are employed to wring the reader's emotions"
and once I'd read the intro, I realized that yes, this sentence describes to a tee why I found this book so disturbing. I've read plenty of fiction that hones in on the disintegration of an individual's psyche, but Richard Baurie's case so unnerved me to the point that I had to make this a daytime-only read. Professor Roza also explains how the novel reflects concerns extant in post-World War II America, including "popular culture's deepening interest in psychiatry and psychoanalysis," which is very much apparent throughout the story.
Very highly recommended, but beware -- it took everything I had and several days after reading Wisteria Cottage to get it out from under my skin. As I said -- disturbing with a capital D.
full post:
https://www.oddlyweirdfiction.com/202...
It was the second day of Richard Baurie's three-day walking trip in the Long Island Sound area when he first came upon Wisteria Cottage, set among the dunes overlooking the beach below. It was that moment when, according to the small bit of the Psychiatrist's Report which opens this novel, "even though faintly," a "criminal intention" first entered his brain. There is no clue as to what his "criminal intention" may have been, nor as to why Richard even merits a psychiatrist's report, but it should be apparent at once that we're not dealing with someone psychologically sound here. I have to say up front that Wisteria Cottage is disturbing with a capital D, because from the very beginning the author places his readers into the mind of this young man whose sense of reality is seriously distorted, and keeps us there as Richard's mind begins to slowly but steadily unravel and deteriorate over the course of the summer spent at Wisteria Cottage.
In her informative introduction which should not be missed but read after finishing this book, Professor Mathilde Roza states that the most "memorable aspect" of Wisteria Cottage is the "approach" taken by the author: "never hysterical but always low-key," and quotes Commonweal as remarking that in this book
"No tiled asylums, no mental bedlams are employed to wring the reader's emotions"
and once I'd read the intro, I realized that yes, this sentence describes to a tee why I found this book so disturbing. I've read plenty of fiction that hones in on the disintegration of an individual's psyche, but Richard Baurie's case so unnerved me to the point that I had to make this a daytime-only read. Professor Roza also explains how the novel reflects concerns extant in post-World War II America, including "popular culture's deepening interest in psychiatry and psychoanalysis," which is very much apparent throughout the story.
Very highly recommended, but beware -- it took everything I had and several days after reading Wisteria Cottage to get it out from under my skin. As I said -- disturbing with a capital D.
November 3, 2018
A psycho/poet sets a sojourn at the seashore,
In a summer cottage secluded
With a trio of unsuspecting ladies:
Two sisters, and a Senora
Whose summer sweetness
Turns heavily salted with
Unsettling
Sinister
Stalking!
A stranger, perhaps,
Or a pseudo son & brother?
There is danger in the dunes
Then slaughter on the sand.
::sigh::
SO very satisfying!
In a summer cottage secluded
With a trio of unsuspecting ladies:
Two sisters, and a Senora
Whose summer sweetness
Turns heavily salted with
Unsettling
Sinister
Stalking!
A stranger, perhaps,
Or a pseudo son & brother?
There is danger in the dunes
Then slaughter on the sand.
::sigh::
SO very satisfying!
March 8, 2021
First of all, this cover art is GORGEOUS!
I'd never heard of this author before. The introduction includes a short bio and he sounds like a really interesting person! I plan on reading more of his work in the future.
This book gives me The Egyptologist vibes--as you get an unreliable narrator (with interspersed psychologist notes, never a good sign) who has MAJOR incel vibes, telling his story of how he attached himself to a family of three women and tried to own/control them.
Unlike most horror I read, there's no paranormal or supernatural happenings here. It's just a misogynistic man's descent into madness and the women who unfortunately bare the brunt of it. This book is a slow burn of creepy that really spirals at the end.
I also want to take a moment to say that Coates' writing style, specifically his control over dialog and the cadence of monologue depending on the narrator's mood at the time is MASTERFUL! I was incredibly impressed throughout the entire novel.
I highly recommend this book if you enjoy horror or suspense. It's a fast read but SO well-done!
I'd never heard of this author before. The introduction includes a short bio and he sounds like a really interesting person! I plan on reading more of his work in the future.
This book gives me The Egyptologist vibes--as you get an unreliable narrator (with interspersed psychologist notes, never a good sign) who has MAJOR incel vibes, telling his story of how he attached himself to a family of three women and tried to own/control them.
Unlike most horror I read, there's no paranormal or supernatural happenings here. It's just a misogynistic man's descent into madness and the women who unfortunately bare the brunt of it. This book is a slow burn of creepy that really spirals at the end.
I also want to take a moment to say that Coates' writing style, specifically his control over dialog and the cadence of monologue depending on the narrator's mood at the time is MASTERFUL! I was incredibly impressed throughout the entire novel.
I highly recommend this book if you enjoy horror or suspense. It's a fast read but SO well-done!
November 16, 2020
"Ο εραστής που σκότωνε", εκδόσεις Άγκυρα.
Βαθμολογία: 7/10
Το βιβλιαράκι αυτό θα το χαρακτήριζα περισσότερο ως ψυχολογικό δράμα με στοιχεία θρίλερ (προς το τέλος τουλάχιστον), παρά ως νουάρ, όπως και να΄χει όμως πέρασα συμπαθητικά την ώρα μου. Βέβαια, οφείλω να πω ότι ήταν κάπως αργοκίνητο για το μέγεθός του και σε ορισμένα σημεία όχι και τόσο ενδιαφέρον, όμως τελικά κατάφερε να με κρατήσει μέχρι το αρκετά δυνατό φινάλε. Νομίζω ότι ο συγγραφέας έκανε καλή δουλειά στο να παρουσιάσει με ρεαλισμό και ένταση ένα ταραγμένο μυαλό, όπως και την αργή πλην σταθερή κάθοδο του νεαρού πρωταγωνιστή στην παράνοια. Θα μπορούσε, βέβαια, να δουλέψει λίγο παραπάνω τους υπόλοιπους χαρακτήρες (ή, έστω, κάποιον εξ αυτών), αλλά και να μας δείξει λίγο από το σκοτεινό παρελθόν του πρωταγωνιστή. Η γραφή μου φάνηκε αρκετά καλή και με ένα κάποιο ιδιαίτερο στιλ, μπορώ να πω ότι μου άρεσε σε γενικές γραμμές. Τέλος, η ατμόσφαιρα ήταν σούπερ.
Υ.Γ. Η μετάφραση ήταν καλούτσικη αλλά με θεματάκια, ενώ δυστυχώς συνάντησα πολλά λαθάκια επιμέλειας, ειδικά με γράμματα που έλειπαν ή ήταν σε λάθος θέση. Έχω διαβάσει πολλά βιβλία σε εκδόσεις τσέπης παλαιότερων δεκαετιών (βλέπε Άγκυρα, ΒΙΠΕΡ, Λυχνάρι κλπ), τόσα λάθη δεν θυμάμαι. Τέλος πάντων, μικρό το κακό.
Βαθμολογία: 7/10
Το βιβλιαράκι αυτό θα το χαρακτήριζα περισσότερο ως ψυχολογικό δράμα με στοιχεία θρίλερ (προς το τέλος τουλάχιστον), παρά ως νουάρ, όπως και να΄χει όμως πέρασα συμπαθητικά την ώρα μου. Βέβαια, οφείλω να πω ότι ήταν κάπως αργοκίνητο για το μέγεθός του και σε ορισμένα σημεία όχι και τόσο ενδιαφέρον, όμως τελικά κατάφερε να με κρατήσει μέχρι το αρκετά δυνατό φινάλε. Νομίζω ότι ο συγγραφέας έκανε καλή δουλειά στο να παρουσιάσει με ρεαλισμό και ένταση ένα ταραγμένο μυαλό, όπως και την αργή πλην σταθερή κάθοδο του νεαρού πρωταγωνιστή στην παράνοια. Θα μπορούσε, βέβαια, να δουλέψει λίγο παραπάνω τους υπόλοιπους χαρακτήρες (ή, έστω, κάποιον εξ αυτών), αλλά και να μας δείξει λίγο από το σκοτεινό παρελθόν του πρωταγωνιστή. Η γραφή μου φάνηκε αρκετά καλή και με ένα κάποιο ιδιαίτερο στιλ, μπορώ να πω ότι μου άρεσε σε γενικές γραμμές. Τέλος, η ατμόσφαιρα ήταν σούπερ.
Υ.Γ. Η μετάφραση ήταν καλούτσικη αλλά με θεματάκια, ενώ δυστυχώς συνάντησα πολλά λαθάκια επιμέλειας, ειδικά με γράμματα που έλειπαν ή ήταν σε λάθος θέση. Έχω διαβάσει πολλά βιβλία σε εκδόσεις τσέπης παλαιότερων δεκαετιών (βλέπε Άγκυρα, ΒΙΠΕΡ, Λυχνάρι κλπ), τόσα λάθη δεν θυμάμαι. Τέλος πάντων, μικρό το κακό.
August 10, 2020
I know what's been bugging me all week. I get it now...I get why I've been tempted to bump this down from 5 stars to 4 stars, since reading it several days ago. I also know why I've resisted. Okay, in my opinion (sorted out, finally), this is a 4 star "Crime & Mystery" novel, and a 5-star Horror novel. You'll notice I put the quotes on "Crime & Mystery", but no quotes when I type Horror, for this book, because I think the book is at home there. Home is where the Horror is, here. Horror is where the Cottage is.
So I've read Wieland; or The Transformation, by Charles Brockden Brown. So I've been down this road before...and really, more shockingly so. Wieland is from 1798, and it's about a guy who goes home at one point, and slaughters his whole family. And it's one of the first "Major Novels of North America". And it's also based on real events, that the author scooped up and turned into what we would call Horror - but also you can say "that's good for Crime & Mystery fans too...but the dreadfulness of it, that's the Horror aspect of it". But I remember thinking "Okay this is 1798, in the USA. This is, like, barely past the creation of the United States. Y'know? Pilgrims, butter churns, wood and stone, little villages, isolation, religion, town halls, families and everyone safe and tucked in early cuz there's no electricity...y'know, Little House on the Prairie without the modern conveniences. And yet - I haven't done the research on this so I don't know how common this was - not long after George Washington but before people decided to commit heinous acts so they could put them on the internet to find other people like them, troubled men seethed for a while, sent out bad signals, and went home and killed everyone. In 1798. And novelists did the novel version. 1798.".
There's a problem, isn't there?
Okay, Wisteria Cottage, novel from 1948. Post-War. Soda jerks and friendly diners, Leave It To Beaver but the cars aren't quite as flashy, gosh wow, chaperones, hard to get a divorce, avoid the scandal and hide the baby, baseball is back, hot dogs, husband and wife and boy and girl, dog. 1948, and we get Wisteria Cottage by Robert M. Coates, where some real stuff - horrid stuff - gets the author to write a novel where a troubled misfit seethes and simmers, and then it all just gets really, really bad, one day.
The novel jumps to Richard and his surrogate family -the Hacketts, all women, Florence and her two daughters - already past the point of no return, to be honest. We learn a tantalizing bit about Richard's past, but we don't ever get everything, y'know, full disclosure. And it's mainly a forward motion to tragedy. I can see why people want more from the book - less senselessness, more bow. The book is very "this is what happened". And heck, Wieland, from 1798!, is more gimmicky. This one just IS. It's like the film Elephant, by Gus Van Sant - you're just onboard, for the Horror. It's Horror. It's a mystery why the human mind causes this to happen - 1798, 1948, 2020, onward, earlier - the Mystery is unsolved, it bottoms out as Horror. For 1948, this is a very interesting novel, and I guess if I went off and read newspapers from the three years before Wisteria Cottage, I would be less shocked about a fiction writer writing this tale in this way. Angry men snapped in 1948, too. Frustrating, direct, answer-free, Horror.
Crime & Mystery fans might want to take a look too. And there's Nightmare, by Lynn Brock, if you want a guy losing it, slowly, because his upstairs neighbours are noisy, and it escalates, and wow, yeah, it really goes bad, that's 1930s, and we're not out of the hateful savage phase, by a long shot. Novelists, apparently, have never had to dream this stuff up out of thin air.
So I've read Wieland; or The Transformation, by Charles Brockden Brown. So I've been down this road before...and really, more shockingly so. Wieland is from 1798, and it's about a guy who goes home at one point, and slaughters his whole family. And it's one of the first "Major Novels of North America". And it's also based on real events, that the author scooped up and turned into what we would call Horror - but also you can say "that's good for Crime & Mystery fans too...but the dreadfulness of it, that's the Horror aspect of it". But I remember thinking "Okay this is 1798, in the USA. This is, like, barely past the creation of the United States. Y'know? Pilgrims, butter churns, wood and stone, little villages, isolation, religion, town halls, families and everyone safe and tucked in early cuz there's no electricity...y'know, Little House on the Prairie without the modern conveniences. And yet - I haven't done the research on this so I don't know how common this was - not long after George Washington but before people decided to commit heinous acts so they could put them on the internet to find other people like them, troubled men seethed for a while, sent out bad signals, and went home and killed everyone. In 1798. And novelists did the novel version. 1798.".
There's a problem, isn't there?
Okay, Wisteria Cottage, novel from 1948. Post-War. Soda jerks and friendly diners, Leave It To Beaver but the cars aren't quite as flashy, gosh wow, chaperones, hard to get a divorce, avoid the scandal and hide the baby, baseball is back, hot dogs, husband and wife and boy and girl, dog. 1948, and we get Wisteria Cottage by Robert M. Coates, where some real stuff - horrid stuff - gets the author to write a novel where a troubled misfit seethes and simmers, and then it all just gets really, really bad, one day.
The novel jumps to Richard and his surrogate family -the Hacketts, all women, Florence and her two daughters - already past the point of no return, to be honest. We learn a tantalizing bit about Richard's past, but we don't ever get everything, y'know, full disclosure. And it's mainly a forward motion to tragedy. I can see why people want more from the book - less senselessness, more bow. The book is very "this is what happened". And heck, Wieland, from 1798!, is more gimmicky. This one just IS. It's like the film Elephant, by Gus Van Sant - you're just onboard, for the Horror. It's Horror. It's a mystery why the human mind causes this to happen - 1798, 1948, 2020, onward, earlier - the Mystery is unsolved, it bottoms out as Horror. For 1948, this is a very interesting novel, and I guess if I went off and read newspapers from the three years before Wisteria Cottage, I would be less shocked about a fiction writer writing this tale in this way. Angry men snapped in 1948, too. Frustrating, direct, answer-free, Horror.
Crime & Mystery fans might want to take a look too. And there's Nightmare, by Lynn Brock, if you want a guy losing it, slowly, because his upstairs neighbours are noisy, and it escalates, and wow, yeah, it really goes bad, that's 1930s, and we're not out of the hateful savage phase, by a long shot. Novelists, apparently, have never had to dream this stuff up out of thin air.
July 2, 2015
A brilliantly written existential portrait of the despair spawned by modernity's ills (the setting is an isolated beach cottage amongst the dunes, a mythical place only a train away from the hub of NYC, the obsession that drives the poet-protagonist is one of modernity's sins (i.e., the obscenity of flesh, the empowerment of women, the plight of social 'classes', and so on)--Wisteria Cottage gripped me in its intensity. Dark, melodious (the flow of the words is poignantly poetic), and compelling, Robert Coates' depth of access to a fascinating (killer) consciousness is frightening in its realistic detachment yet simultaneous unnerving sensical-ness.
The protagonist poet-killer is a man of unstable moods and erratic constitution (he talks to himself, rapes, kills, is in psychiatry's terms a 'sociopath'), and most of the novel is written in his voice--in the third-person. Although we are brought into his world of sympathies, we are kept at a distance (by the simple fact that the third person does not allow as much intimacy as first person narratives). And, at times the flow is interrupted by excerpts from 'Psychiatrist's reports' of future studies into this criminal mind. These and other bits, written from the perspective of other characters, serve to make salient the protagonists' dark moods and their unexplainable nature (i.e., the 'organic' nature of the moods, influenced in content by themes inspired by modernity).
I could not put down Wisteria Cottage, finished it very quickly--brilliant (and dark, creepy, moody, existentially scary).
The protagonist poet-killer is a man of unstable moods and erratic constitution (he talks to himself, rapes, kills, is in psychiatry's terms a 'sociopath'), and most of the novel is written in his voice--in the third-person. Although we are brought into his world of sympathies, we are kept at a distance (by the simple fact that the third person does not allow as much intimacy as first person narratives). And, at times the flow is interrupted by excerpts from 'Psychiatrist's reports' of future studies into this criminal mind. These and other bits, written from the perspective of other characters, serve to make salient the protagonists' dark moods and their unexplainable nature (i.e., the 'organic' nature of the moods, influenced in content by themes inspired by modernity).
I could not put down Wisteria Cottage, finished it very quickly--brilliant (and dark, creepy, moody, existentially scary).
September 4, 2021
This novel, first published in 1948, now, deservedly, reaches a new readership thanks to its reissue by Valancourt.
For 95% of the story this is a quaint slice of period drama, as a young bookclerk, Richard Baurie, discovers an old cottage to renovate on the Long Island shoreline, and is soon living there with his new friends, Florence Hackett and her daughters.
But, despite the book being little know, the publisher's name acts as a type of spoiler, things are not going to remain quaint for long..
Baurie's mental health is steadily declining. From the outset we know he is troubled.
Coates does a great job of keeping the reader interested until the long-awaited climax arrives. But when it does, it certainly was worth waiting for.
For 95% of the story this is a quaint slice of period drama, as a young bookclerk, Richard Baurie, discovers an old cottage to renovate on the Long Island shoreline, and is soon living there with his new friends, Florence Hackett and her daughters.
But, despite the book being little know, the publisher's name acts as a type of spoiler, things are not going to remain quaint for long..
Baurie's mental health is steadily declining. From the outset we know he is troubled.
Coates does a great job of keeping the reader interested until the long-awaited climax arrives. But when it does, it certainly was worth waiting for.
March 10, 2023
Robert Coates had a great writing style, but the first quarter of the book was tedious to get into because of the rambling of the mentally ill man (well done, but hard to stay into). Sad story. Well crafted and interesting, but enjoyment remains at 3 star. Will check out the other recommended book by author.
March 13, 2021
a superb, deeply disturbing psychological thriller--well ahead of its time.
March 21, 2021
Maybe it was an interesting read in 1948 but it hasn't held up well over the years. Plodding storyline, pretentious dialogue, dreary characters.
March 30, 2020
This is a realistic account of a man's descent into madness over the course of a summer. Split between Manhattan and Port Jefferson, we see Richard's paranoia grow and ultimately overcome him despite weekends at the bucolic beachfront cottage, Wisteria House.
This will be particularly interesting to people from the north shore of Long Island, especially those familiar with it's more pastoral days before overdevelopment.
This will be particularly interesting to people from the north shore of Long Island, especially those familiar with it's more pastoral days before overdevelopment.
May 15, 2021
I enjoyed this a lot at the beginning - specifically getting to know Richard and his intentions but I started to lose interest by halfway through and unfortunately this didn’t really pick back up. I didn’t really have a connection to any of the characters either. Richard was interesting but even this waned towards the middle.
As always, check it out if the synopsis sounds interesting. It could have just been me.
As always, check it out if the synopsis sounds interesting. It could have just been me.
July 16, 2021
Buy it for the cover art, stay for the story. It's actually pretty good!
October 10, 2025
Although I haven't read all too many of them, I've always been something of a sucker for a good psycho thriller, especially the kind that delves into the mind of a homicidal maniac and allows us to understand just what makes him/her tick. Let's see...I have previously experienced what is perhaps the granddaddy of the genre, Fyodor Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment" (1866), as well as Ernest G. Henham's "Tenebrae" (1898), Jim Thompson's "The Killer Inside Me" (1952), Robert Bloch's "Psycho" (1959), Truman Capote's "nonfiction novel" "In Cold Blood" (1966), and Thomas Harris' "Red Dragon" (1981)...all brilliant and harrowing books. Other folks seem to swear by Patricia Highsmith's "The Talented Mr. Ripley" (1955), Bret Easton Ellis' "American Psycho" (1991), and Joyce Carol Oates' "Zombie" (1995). And there are undoubtedly dozens--probably hundreds--of other fine works in this genre. But largely absent from the discussions on the best novels (as opposed to true-crime exposes) dealing with the murderously psychopathic mind, as far as I can tell, is the book that has just wowed me, Robert M. Coates' "Wisteria Cottage" (1948); as clinically analytical and nerve-shreddingly horrifying as any of the others that I’ve read...and beautifully written, as well. But more on that in a moment.
"Wisteria Cottage" was originally released in 1948 here in the U.S. as a $2.50 Harcourt, Brace & Co. hardcover, with the blurb "A Novel of Criminal Impulse" on its faithful front cover. The following year, it would be released as a 25-cent Dell paperback, with a wonderful piece of cover art (artist unknown) depicting the book's lunatic holding an ice pick, with a woman seemingly emerging from his brain. In 1955, the novel appeared as a Lion Library paperback, sporting a changed title, "The Night Before Dying," a rather risqué bit of cover art depicting a semi-clad woman, and a blurb from the New York Herald Tribune declaring the book to be "superb, frightening, a literary item." After going OOPs (out of prints) for 30 years, Coates' novel would be reissued in 1985 as an Arbor House paperback, its impressive cover art consisting of a house key that resembles a hatchet and is dripping blood! Finally, after another long gap, this one of 35 years, the novel was revived by the fine folks at Valancourt Books in 2020, sporting a beautiful piece of cover art by M. S. Corley and a highly informative introduction by Mathilde Roza. For modern-day readers, it is assuredly the edition to go with!
Before proceeding, a quick word now on the book's author himself. Robert M. Coates was born in New Haven, CT, in 1897. During his decades-long association with "The New Yorker," Coates was the magazine's art critic (it was he who supposedly first coined the expression "abstract expressionism"), as well as supplying over 100 short stories, many of which were collected later in three anthologies. In addition, he wrote one historical book, a memoir, a pair of travel books, and five novels. The first three of those novels were surrealist in nature (indeed, his first novel, 1926's "The Eater of Darkness," is said to be the first Surrealist novel in the English language), while the latter two, "Wisteria Cottage" and "The Farther Shore" (1955), dealt with criminal matters. Robert M. Coates passed away in 1973 at the age of 75.
As Mathilde Roza tells us in her intro, the book in question here was inspired by two shocking homicides that captured national attention. The first was the case of Albert Fish, who had strangled a girl in 1928 in an abode dubbed by the papers Wisteria Cottage. The second involved the exploits of Robert Irwin, who actually killed three people in 1937. (To avoid spoilers, I will not go into the grisly details of these two cases, but you can easily find a ton of info regarding them online, if you're so disposed.) Coates' book introduces the reader to a stocky, blonde young man named Richard Baurie, who had grown up in Kansas, the product of a broken home, spent some months in a sanatorium, is currently working as a clerk (when he feels like it) in a small NYC bookstore, and fancies himself something of an aspiring poet. Richard, before we initially get to know him, had bumped into a middle-aged woman named Florence Hackett at a local supermarket, and had become friendly with her and her two grown daughters: Louisa, the older, who works as a radio actress and who Richard deems a wanton slut; and Elinor, of whom Richard is secretly enamored. When we first encounter Baurie, he has gone AWOL from his job--again--and is taking a walking excursion near Port Jefferson, on the north shore of Long Island. He comes upon the titular abode, which is empty and up for rent, as well as being marvelously situated right on a beach of Long Island Sound. Baurie convinces Mrs. Hackett and her daughters to rent the place out for the summer, saying that the empty shack behind the cottage could be converted into a writer's studio/bedroom for his weekend visits. And so, the plan goes forward, and the first few weeks of summer at the beach house go, uh, swimmingly. And then the troubles start.
Richard begins to quarrel with weekender Louisa more and more, and his plan to integrate himself into a family--a family such as he has never known--starts going haywire. He begins to believe that Louisa is evil, that Florence is a terrible mother for allowing her to carry on so, and that Elinor must be rescued from their wickedness. Richard's conduct grows ever more startling, to the point that Mrs. Hackett, one day in late August, is compelled to evict him. Now evincing decided signs of mania, Richard camps out in the dunes, prowls outside the house at night, and ultimately comes to the conclusion that Florence and Louisa must be done away with! And matters begin to look very grim, indeed, when Richard goes into a Port Jefferson hardware store and purchases a length of rope, and an ice pick, and a hatchet....
"Wisteria Cottage," to its great credit, allows us to understand madman Richard Baurie not only via snippets of the Psychiatrist's Report scattered throughout the book, written following the events at the cottage, but also by depicting incidents from Richard's own POV. We are privy to his interior monologues, his fantasies and his surreal dreams, and thus witness firsthand his mental decline as the summer progresses. The book is very much an exemplar of slow-burn, suspenseful horror, and the reader's patience is amply rewarded by the explosive final 15 pages or so. We know that Baurie did something that put him in the "loony bin" again, but will he actually attack, and kill? That finale, by the way, is decidedly not one for the squeamish, and I should probably not say anything more about it. Again, I'd hate to ruin the fun for anyone...if "fun" is the proper word to use in a case like this!
Hints as to Richard's insanity are abundantly strewn throughout the book. In the very first chapter, we see him talking to a stranger, making up lies about himself and talking nonsense, to the stranger's great discomfiture. Early in the summer, he has something of a mental breakdown/fugue attack, smashing objects in the cottage and upending furniture, later blaming the incident on local hooligans. His commando-style nighttime surveillance of the cottage, his showing up at the NYC advertising agency where one of Louisa's boyfriends works, his baying like a wolf on the sand dunes at night, and his violent outburst at Jennie (his boss in the bookstore) for using the word "God" are all definite indicators of a very disturbed mind. But perhaps what shocked this reader the most was the sight of Baurie shrieking at the top of his lungs in imitation of the elevated train as it roars past his Third Avenue window. What a wackadoodle! Baurie is the type of person who elicits odd looks during his every interaction with strangers, and yet, like many individuals with a disturbed mind, he is capable of turning on the ingratiating charm when needed. The reader marvels that he is able to hoodwink the Hackett women for as long as he does.
Amongst all the suspense and the many uncomfortable moments, three scenes manage to stand out as being especially shocking. I will try to again be coy here. The first involves what Richard does to Elinor when the two of them are alone on the beach at night. The second one, that results in Baurie's eviction from his studio, stuns Florence and the reader as our befuddled psycho begins excoriating Louisa using some pretty foul language. And the third shocking sequence, of course, is the entire finale of the book, as Richard goes absolutely berserk, in a series of events that places what up till then had been a psycho thriller very much in the genre of horror. Hang on to your seats!
Coates' novel, besides being an in-depth examination of a diseased mind and a suspenseful page-turner, also pleases the more discerning reader by displaying a marked love affair with the English language. Any number of beautifully written passages are given to us. Take, for example, this one; one of several in which the author describes what summer entails:
"...Spring's a nice time, too, but it is nothing at all like summer. Spring is all offering, and no giving. Spring is promises, and the summer is the fulfillment. Spring is tentative; and summer fulsome and rich and rewarding. Everyone, almost, looks forward to it, from the child counting the days till the end of the school term to the family planning its vacation, and you have plenty of time to prepare for it. You have April and May, while the city grows hotter and heavier with its own expectation all around you; you have June, or a part of June--and then, suddenly, you are in the midst of it! For it comes with a rush when it does come; and the force of it, the heat, the completeness, are enough to sweep anything and anyone before it...."
Or this one, as Richard stands on the beach, alone, gazing at the water at night:
"...The sea was dark, and so still that only occasionally would he see the white line that marked a swell form along the shoals and move, straight and crayon-clear, slowly, inflexibly, in to the beach. Sus-his-s-s-sh, it would say when it got there, and then start lazily clawing the pebbles. There was no wind, only now and then a patient stirring as the day's temperatures readjusted themselves, coolness eddying in from the sea and the heat from the land rising dustlike up through it. The sky was gray as the sand itself...."
Perhaps even more impressive than those lovely passages, however, are the sections utilizing what Mathilde Roza calls "experimental writing" to present Baurie's disordered state of mind. Thus, we are given this, as Richard sits in his tiny NYC apartment:
"...That night, back in his furnished room (on Third Avenue; and the El, and the trains going by. Even in his sleep he heard them: and each one the long faraway rumbling; the (growing, the) feeling of menace, and the wolflike, bright, flashing-toothed, almost-enveloping roaring as: passing, and then (dying) the long hungry-hunting sound trailing after. That night) he had a dream...."
And I haven't even mentioned the book's employment of expertly rendered, naturalistic dialogue! Truly, an impressively well-written affair, all told.
It occurs to me that I should probably apologize for using such words as "madman," "loony," "wackadoodle" and "psycho" when referring to Richard Baurie above. I certainly did not intend to be flippant or insensitive regarding the subject of mental illness, and in truth, while reading Coates' novel, one cannot help feeling a little sorry for the central character, even when he is doing terrible things. Do you recall the scene in Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" in which Norman Bates is trying to sink a car--containing Marion Crane's body--in a nearby swamp? For a moment, it appears as if the car will not sink all the way beneath the surface, and the viewer feels worried and concerned over the killer's plight. I experienced something of the same emotion while learning more and more about Richard Baurie, and his essentially pitiful desire to just be part of a family...any family. To his credit, Coates does not present Richard as a bogeyman monster, but rather as someone we can simultaneously feel for and be shocked by; a credible character, truly!
For the rest of it, "Wisteria Cottage," although 77 years old as of this writing, does not feel dated, and indeed comes off as surprisingly modern. With the exceptions of the Third Avenue el train, the tracks for which were torn down from 1955 to '56, and the fact that Louisa works as a radio actress (not too many jobs answering that description today!), the book could have been written yesterday. Oh...and I guess it wouldn't be possible for Richard to buy a meal in Manhattan, order two drinks in a bar, purchase an LIRR ticket, buy breakfast, and then purchase rope, an ice pick and a hatchet today for...$6.60. But you get my drift. "Wisteria Cottage," Roza tells us, was adapted for the big screen in 1958 as the film noir entitled "Edge of Fury." It is a picture that I had not previously heard of before, featuring a no-name cast, but I am pleased to see, after a quick perusal of its plot synopsis, that it does adhere reasonably closely to Coates' original. Still, I believe you'll probably find more psychological depth in the novel, and more in the way of character insight, as well.
I have hardly any negative comments to make regarding Robert M. Coates' remarkable piece of work here. Only, I feel it was a missed opportunity for the author to not tell us what had landed Baurie in the mental hospital the first time. We might have been able to understand him even more with that piece of curiously omitted information. And I also can't help wondering what happened to Baurie following his court trial, for which the Psychiatrist's Report was to serve as a piece of evidence. It is to be hoped that Richard Baurie finally found the family he always craved...behind bars. But whether those bars are in a prison or in a sanatorium is anybody's guess....
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website at https://fantasyliterature.com/ ... a most ideal destination for all fans of well-written horror fare such as this....)
"Wisteria Cottage" was originally released in 1948 here in the U.S. as a $2.50 Harcourt, Brace & Co. hardcover, with the blurb "A Novel of Criminal Impulse" on its faithful front cover. The following year, it would be released as a 25-cent Dell paperback, with a wonderful piece of cover art (artist unknown) depicting the book's lunatic holding an ice pick, with a woman seemingly emerging from his brain. In 1955, the novel appeared as a Lion Library paperback, sporting a changed title, "The Night Before Dying," a rather risqué bit of cover art depicting a semi-clad woman, and a blurb from the New York Herald Tribune declaring the book to be "superb, frightening, a literary item." After going OOPs (out of prints) for 30 years, Coates' novel would be reissued in 1985 as an Arbor House paperback, its impressive cover art consisting of a house key that resembles a hatchet and is dripping blood! Finally, after another long gap, this one of 35 years, the novel was revived by the fine folks at Valancourt Books in 2020, sporting a beautiful piece of cover art by M. S. Corley and a highly informative introduction by Mathilde Roza. For modern-day readers, it is assuredly the edition to go with!
Before proceeding, a quick word now on the book's author himself. Robert M. Coates was born in New Haven, CT, in 1897. During his decades-long association with "The New Yorker," Coates was the magazine's art critic (it was he who supposedly first coined the expression "abstract expressionism"), as well as supplying over 100 short stories, many of which were collected later in three anthologies. In addition, he wrote one historical book, a memoir, a pair of travel books, and five novels. The first three of those novels were surrealist in nature (indeed, his first novel, 1926's "The Eater of Darkness," is said to be the first Surrealist novel in the English language), while the latter two, "Wisteria Cottage" and "The Farther Shore" (1955), dealt with criminal matters. Robert M. Coates passed away in 1973 at the age of 75.
As Mathilde Roza tells us in her intro, the book in question here was inspired by two shocking homicides that captured national attention. The first was the case of Albert Fish, who had strangled a girl in 1928 in an abode dubbed by the papers Wisteria Cottage. The second involved the exploits of Robert Irwin, who actually killed three people in 1937. (To avoid spoilers, I will not go into the grisly details of these two cases, but you can easily find a ton of info regarding them online, if you're so disposed.) Coates' book introduces the reader to a stocky, blonde young man named Richard Baurie, who had grown up in Kansas, the product of a broken home, spent some months in a sanatorium, is currently working as a clerk (when he feels like it) in a small NYC bookstore, and fancies himself something of an aspiring poet. Richard, before we initially get to know him, had bumped into a middle-aged woman named Florence Hackett at a local supermarket, and had become friendly with her and her two grown daughters: Louisa, the older, who works as a radio actress and who Richard deems a wanton slut; and Elinor, of whom Richard is secretly enamored. When we first encounter Baurie, he has gone AWOL from his job--again--and is taking a walking excursion near Port Jefferson, on the north shore of Long Island. He comes upon the titular abode, which is empty and up for rent, as well as being marvelously situated right on a beach of Long Island Sound. Baurie convinces Mrs. Hackett and her daughters to rent the place out for the summer, saying that the empty shack behind the cottage could be converted into a writer's studio/bedroom for his weekend visits. And so, the plan goes forward, and the first few weeks of summer at the beach house go, uh, swimmingly. And then the troubles start.
Richard begins to quarrel with weekender Louisa more and more, and his plan to integrate himself into a family--a family such as he has never known--starts going haywire. He begins to believe that Louisa is evil, that Florence is a terrible mother for allowing her to carry on so, and that Elinor must be rescued from their wickedness. Richard's conduct grows ever more startling, to the point that Mrs. Hackett, one day in late August, is compelled to evict him. Now evincing decided signs of mania, Richard camps out in the dunes, prowls outside the house at night, and ultimately comes to the conclusion that Florence and Louisa must be done away with! And matters begin to look very grim, indeed, when Richard goes into a Port Jefferson hardware store and purchases a length of rope, and an ice pick, and a hatchet....
"Wisteria Cottage," to its great credit, allows us to understand madman Richard Baurie not only via snippets of the Psychiatrist's Report scattered throughout the book, written following the events at the cottage, but also by depicting incidents from Richard's own POV. We are privy to his interior monologues, his fantasies and his surreal dreams, and thus witness firsthand his mental decline as the summer progresses. The book is very much an exemplar of slow-burn, suspenseful horror, and the reader's patience is amply rewarded by the explosive final 15 pages or so. We know that Baurie did something that put him in the "loony bin" again, but will he actually attack, and kill? That finale, by the way, is decidedly not one for the squeamish, and I should probably not say anything more about it. Again, I'd hate to ruin the fun for anyone...if "fun" is the proper word to use in a case like this!
Hints as to Richard's insanity are abundantly strewn throughout the book. In the very first chapter, we see him talking to a stranger, making up lies about himself and talking nonsense, to the stranger's great discomfiture. Early in the summer, he has something of a mental breakdown/fugue attack, smashing objects in the cottage and upending furniture, later blaming the incident on local hooligans. His commando-style nighttime surveillance of the cottage, his showing up at the NYC advertising agency where one of Louisa's boyfriends works, his baying like a wolf on the sand dunes at night, and his violent outburst at Jennie (his boss in the bookstore) for using the word "God" are all definite indicators of a very disturbed mind. But perhaps what shocked this reader the most was the sight of Baurie shrieking at the top of his lungs in imitation of the elevated train as it roars past his Third Avenue window. What a wackadoodle! Baurie is the type of person who elicits odd looks during his every interaction with strangers, and yet, like many individuals with a disturbed mind, he is capable of turning on the ingratiating charm when needed. The reader marvels that he is able to hoodwink the Hackett women for as long as he does.
Amongst all the suspense and the many uncomfortable moments, three scenes manage to stand out as being especially shocking. I will try to again be coy here. The first involves what Richard does to Elinor when the two of them are alone on the beach at night. The second one, that results in Baurie's eviction from his studio, stuns Florence and the reader as our befuddled psycho begins excoriating Louisa using some pretty foul language. And the third shocking sequence, of course, is the entire finale of the book, as Richard goes absolutely berserk, in a series of events that places what up till then had been a psycho thriller very much in the genre of horror. Hang on to your seats!
Coates' novel, besides being an in-depth examination of a diseased mind and a suspenseful page-turner, also pleases the more discerning reader by displaying a marked love affair with the English language. Any number of beautifully written passages are given to us. Take, for example, this one; one of several in which the author describes what summer entails:
"...Spring's a nice time, too, but it is nothing at all like summer. Spring is all offering, and no giving. Spring is promises, and the summer is the fulfillment. Spring is tentative; and summer fulsome and rich and rewarding. Everyone, almost, looks forward to it, from the child counting the days till the end of the school term to the family planning its vacation, and you have plenty of time to prepare for it. You have April and May, while the city grows hotter and heavier with its own expectation all around you; you have June, or a part of June--and then, suddenly, you are in the midst of it! For it comes with a rush when it does come; and the force of it, the heat, the completeness, are enough to sweep anything and anyone before it...."
Or this one, as Richard stands on the beach, alone, gazing at the water at night:
"...The sea was dark, and so still that only occasionally would he see the white line that marked a swell form along the shoals and move, straight and crayon-clear, slowly, inflexibly, in to the beach. Sus-his-s-s-sh, it would say when it got there, and then start lazily clawing the pebbles. There was no wind, only now and then a patient stirring as the day's temperatures readjusted themselves, coolness eddying in from the sea and the heat from the land rising dustlike up through it. The sky was gray as the sand itself...."
Perhaps even more impressive than those lovely passages, however, are the sections utilizing what Mathilde Roza calls "experimental writing" to present Baurie's disordered state of mind. Thus, we are given this, as Richard sits in his tiny NYC apartment:
"...That night, back in his furnished room (on Third Avenue; and the El, and the trains going by. Even in his sleep he heard them: and each one the long faraway rumbling; the (growing, the) feeling of menace, and the wolflike, bright, flashing-toothed, almost-enveloping roaring as: passing, and then (dying) the long hungry-hunting sound trailing after. That night) he had a dream...."
And I haven't even mentioned the book's employment of expertly rendered, naturalistic dialogue! Truly, an impressively well-written affair, all told.
It occurs to me that I should probably apologize for using such words as "madman," "loony," "wackadoodle" and "psycho" when referring to Richard Baurie above. I certainly did not intend to be flippant or insensitive regarding the subject of mental illness, and in truth, while reading Coates' novel, one cannot help feeling a little sorry for the central character, even when he is doing terrible things. Do you recall the scene in Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" in which Norman Bates is trying to sink a car--containing Marion Crane's body--in a nearby swamp? For a moment, it appears as if the car will not sink all the way beneath the surface, and the viewer feels worried and concerned over the killer's plight. I experienced something of the same emotion while learning more and more about Richard Baurie, and his essentially pitiful desire to just be part of a family...any family. To his credit, Coates does not present Richard as a bogeyman monster, but rather as someone we can simultaneously feel for and be shocked by; a credible character, truly!
For the rest of it, "Wisteria Cottage," although 77 years old as of this writing, does not feel dated, and indeed comes off as surprisingly modern. With the exceptions of the Third Avenue el train, the tracks for which were torn down from 1955 to '56, and the fact that Louisa works as a radio actress (not too many jobs answering that description today!), the book could have been written yesterday. Oh...and I guess it wouldn't be possible for Richard to buy a meal in Manhattan, order two drinks in a bar, purchase an LIRR ticket, buy breakfast, and then purchase rope, an ice pick and a hatchet today for...$6.60. But you get my drift. "Wisteria Cottage," Roza tells us, was adapted for the big screen in 1958 as the film noir entitled "Edge of Fury." It is a picture that I had not previously heard of before, featuring a no-name cast, but I am pleased to see, after a quick perusal of its plot synopsis, that it does adhere reasonably closely to Coates' original. Still, I believe you'll probably find more psychological depth in the novel, and more in the way of character insight, as well.
I have hardly any negative comments to make regarding Robert M. Coates' remarkable piece of work here. Only, I feel it was a missed opportunity for the author to not tell us what had landed Baurie in the mental hospital the first time. We might have been able to understand him even more with that piece of curiously omitted information. And I also can't help wondering what happened to Baurie following his court trial, for which the Psychiatrist's Report was to serve as a piece of evidence. It is to be hoped that Richard Baurie finally found the family he always craved...behind bars. But whether those bars are in a prison or in a sanatorium is anybody's guess....
(By the way, this review originally appeared on the FanLit website at https://fantasyliterature.com/ ... a most ideal destination for all fans of well-written horror fare such as this....)
June 13, 2023
This as a disappointment. I read a lot of hype about how terrifying and creepy it was. It wasn't. It was a telling and unvarnished depiction of a deeply disturbed guy who gradually descends into a madness that is evident even in the very early pages of the book. The title seemed a contrivance and although I read the whole book, I can't say I enjoyed it.
April 15, 2021
This came as part of my monthly Night Worms subscription package.
This is why I really love Night Worms, because I receive titles and authors that would have otherwise been well outside of perception. Case in point with 'Wisteria Cottage' from Robert M. Coates, a novel originally released in 1948 getting an attractive reprint from Valancourt.
Coates puts the reader directly into the fragmented mind of someone taking a fast descent into paranoid madness. We follow Richard Baurie, a young bookstore clerk who immerses himself into the lives of a woman and her two young adult daughters at the titular dwelling. As the story progresses Baurie's perceptions of reality become altered, and that is when things go badly for the people in his circle.
The way Coates digs into the twisty black rabbit hole that is Baurie's mind is wonderfully freaky and tragic stuff.
Bonus points for a solid new introduction by Coates-aphile Mathilde Roza.
This is why I really love Night Worms, because I receive titles and authors that would have otherwise been well outside of perception. Case in point with 'Wisteria Cottage' from Robert M. Coates, a novel originally released in 1948 getting an attractive reprint from Valancourt.
Coates puts the reader directly into the fragmented mind of someone taking a fast descent into paranoid madness. We follow Richard Baurie, a young bookstore clerk who immerses himself into the lives of a woman and her two young adult daughters at the titular dwelling. As the story progresses Baurie's perceptions of reality become altered, and that is when things go badly for the people in his circle.
The way Coates digs into the twisty black rabbit hole that is Baurie's mind is wonderfully freaky and tragic stuff.
Bonus points for a solid new introduction by Coates-aphile Mathilde Roza.
May 29, 2019
Captivating read!
December 10, 2016
Story of the disintegration of a mentally ill young man into violent psychosis made much more interesting than most such novels by the depth of the characters who have the misfortune of finding themselves within his orbit and by the considerable literary skills of the author.
October 15, 2020
This took me ages, again because it deals quite intimately with the workings of a mentally ill person's mind. Well written but ultimately I doubt I will be rereading it in future.
January 9, 2023
So Slooooow.
I usually love unconventional horror, especially those written in the not so distant past. The writing style is different, vintage almost. I tend to enjoy that "old fashioned" feel of the dialogue and composition. However, I did struggle with this one a bit. It was old-fashioned to the point of frustration, and boredom. This was a psychological horror, so I certainly was not expecting high-drama throughout, but the slow build-up was just so tedious and, for the most part, not that interesting. Not to mention how unlikable and annoying the main character, Richard, is.
Highly comparable to an old black and white "horror" movie - formal, prim dialogue, subdued, almost repressed expressions, delayed, unrealistic reactions (scream, run, fight back!! for cryin' out loud!!). It is a short read and I probably could have finished it in a day or two if it managed to hold my interest a little more.
I usually love unconventional horror, especially those written in the not so distant past. The writing style is different, vintage almost. I tend to enjoy that "old fashioned" feel of the dialogue and composition. However, I did struggle with this one a bit. It was old-fashioned to the point of frustration, and boredom. This was a psychological horror, so I certainly was not expecting high-drama throughout, but the slow build-up was just so tedious and, for the most part, not that interesting. Not to mention how unlikable and annoying the main character, Richard, is.
Highly comparable to an old black and white "horror" movie - formal, prim dialogue, subdued, almost repressed expressions, delayed, unrealistic reactions (scream, run, fight back!! for cryin' out loud!!). It is a short read and I probably could have finished it in a day or two if it managed to hold my interest a little more.
February 12, 2021
Perhaps in its time this book was seen as a terrifying novel. Today, it's seem as a horrid tale of a man who just released from an asylum decides to befriend a family of females and set them in a cottage by the sea.
I kind of have to laugh at the ladies a bit, because the guy has warning bells from the way he talks to the way he acts that several characters make alludes that he is a bit touched and or there is something up about him. They're unfortunately too trusting and well, it leads to the ending of the book.
I think the thing I enjoyed the most about the book is how the book is written both from his stand-point, what is currently happening, and also from when he was put back in jail after the events.
Though as some other reviews mentioned, this book does have its dull moments.
I kind of have to laugh at the ladies a bit, because the guy has warning bells from the way he talks to the way he acts that several characters make alludes that he is a bit touched and or there is something up about him. They're unfortunately too trusting and well, it leads to the ending of the book.
I think the thing I enjoyed the most about the book is how the book is written both from his stand-point, what is currently happening, and also from when he was put back in jail after the events.
Though as some other reviews mentioned, this book does have its dull moments.
March 7, 2021
This was a enjoyable read, mainly from the POV of the main character who happens to be just slightly demented. He works in a bookshop and befriends a family and worms his way into their lives and ends up spending the summer with them out at Wisteria Cottage. The setting is isolated and we watch as Richard goes further and further into madness, though he hides it well from his three hosts. The author did such a good job of writing an inner dialog, very intimate and honest. I have to admit that as someone who has anxiety on social queues and such, I did identify somewhat with the killer as he tries to navigate his own fears and rabid thoughts. Well done, Night Worms for including this in the Feb pack.
August 2, 2022
A book that has many of my special loves: a character who works in a used bookstore, a summer beach cottage & a psychopathic narrator, but for me it fell short of Patricia Highsmith or Jim Thompson at his best level. The unreliable narrator’s thought patterns are believable but unlike Highsmith’s or Thompson’s psychos it’s hard to believe anyone would put up with him for long. He was a horrible flippant employee at the bookstore & a spoiled brat with the family. But it was nice to spend so many pages on a languid summer cottage getaway.
January 11, 2024
This is a very slow story about a young man who talks 3 female acquaintances into sharing a beach house on Long Island's North Shore. He gradually descends into madness with tragic results. This is a very suspenseful story, well written and the author clearly illuminates the man's deterioration, step by step and word by word until it reaches its climax. Written in 1948, it is said to be one of the first psychological novels and is an interesting read for the psychology as well as the period details.
February 24, 2025
Although Wisteria Cottage is a short book, it might take a long time to get through it. It's written in long, run-on sentences in stream-of-consciousness narration. We know from the opening psychiatrists' report that the protagonist is a former mental patient. The reader soon realizes that he hasn't been completely cured and that what we are about to read is his slow descent back to insanity.
It is so slow and protracted that's hard to maintain interest in the story. Best line: "There’s no evil in the world that cannot be cured."
It is so slow and protracted that's hard to maintain interest in the story. Best line: "There’s no evil in the world that cannot be cured."
April 20, 2021
This started out strong for me. I found the character of Richard compelling. He was very obviously psychopathic and narcissistic, but the psychology and how his mind worked was fascinating.
It started to fall flat towards the middle. I never felt terribly connected to any of the other characters, the Hackets namely. I started to lose interest as the story dragged on to the inevitable conclusion. This one just wasn’t quite for me. Bonus star for the beautiful cover art.
It started to fall flat towards the middle. I never felt terribly connected to any of the other characters, the Hackets namely. I started to lose interest as the story dragged on to the inevitable conclusion. This one just wasn’t quite for me. Bonus star for the beautiful cover art.
July 23, 2022
I found this disappointing and slow going. A psychological study, rather than a whodunit, this book was on my "most wanted" list for years due to its reputation. Finally acquiring a copy, I read it with growing dismay and alarm. It's 230 pages of tedium for a mystery fan, climaxed by 2 pages of suspenseful action. Not recommended if you're looking for a mystery from the Golden Age of Christie, Carr, Rawson, et al.
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