11-17-2007, 12:46 AM
Even though I didn't associate myself with Gothic literature until much later in life, I had a natural inclination towards the genre. I grew up in an Old World Portuguese Catholic family, feeling one step removed from the Middle Ages at times.
First and foremost, I fell in love with mysteries, then with atmospheric mysteries, and then with atmospheric novels, not necessarily mysteries. I started with the mysteries Phyllis A. Whitney wrote for young readers and the old Nancy Drews with creepy covers and tame mysteries. As a teenager, Wuthering Heights, The Scarlet Letter, and Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose (I know, not Gothic romances) were the first books that wet my appetite for the dark, gloomy, and ancient. Ivanhoe wet my appetite for romantic adventure.
First and foremost, I fell in love with mysteries, then with atmospheric mysteries, and then with atmospheric novels, not necessarily mysteries. I started with the mysteries Phyllis A. Whitney wrote for young readers and the old Nancy Drews with creepy covers and tame mysteries. As a teenager, Wuthering Heights, The Scarlet Letter, and Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose (I know, not Gothic romances) were the first books that wet my appetite for the dark, gloomy, and ancient. Ivanhoe wet my appetite for romantic adventure.
