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A review by storytold
The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling
3.5
A solid 3.5 rounded up for prose and enjoyment, and because I think this book deserves to be rated higher than it is cumulatively. I like imperfect books. Often I find them more compelling than books within which I find little fault. That was this experience. The pacing, set-up, and some minor plot beats in The Death of Jane Lawrence don't hold up under intense scrutiny, but the project of the book was something I really dug, and I found the world and story immersive, compelling, and well written.
I like plodding, bloodied-hands gothic shit, though. If you don't like gothic shit, this probably isn't going to hit. I think this book and the similarly low-rated Catherine House have a certain amount in common: they're psychological deep dives into the madness and coercion of science and magic and power. It's gory, it's difficult to read in places, it wraps up unexplained. Jane's character motivations were sometimes elided in the service of plot, which to me is what I'm able to forgive the least; more on this in a second. We spend about a hundred pages dwelling in ritual, which is a pacing nightmare and puts off readers; but in this I see homage. A character decaying slowly into madness is a staple of 19th century literature (at least, that I've been exposed to). Jane's growth arc is in fact an arc of decay, and I think fundamentally it worked and for me sold the book. (Until the last few chapters, when this decay is overwritten by a plot device. But between this and The Luminous Dead I wonder if the author struggles to land endings, continuing in the great traditions of novel-length horror writers everywhere.)
The flaws of this book can be attributed to honouring the book's concept more highly than its execution, but generally it sold me on the concept well enough that I was (almost) willing to overlook those flaws. The reason this doesn't reach up to be a solid 4-star read for me is because of Jane's motivations. The event that propels the third act is something she blames herself for... despite that it was very much something that happened to her. She feels it's her responsibility to fix, and she becomes extremely sacrificial in its pursuit. This is an arguably understandable emotional reaction, and it is eventually supported indirectly by some rumination on how alone Jane is or feels: she does not have anyone except for her husband, so her world has become very narrow in her own view. But I find this frustratingly contradictory to Jane's character. She has thoroughly established herself as a woman of reason, rarely emotional or (pardon me) "irrational" in this way prior to, you know, the insanity. But then the insanity forgives it to a degree. She says to one of the servants in the house, "My mind is not my own." Certainly true. The house -- rather, its contents -- have transformed her and Augustine by the time all this kicks off. That's how horror works. So even my biggest gripe about the book can be explained by the concept it so ardently sells.
To talk about the end for a second: SpoilerThe house full of their regrets and guilt and shame consumes them and they are remade and leave unrecognizable. Maaaan... I don't know. I feel like it didn't follow through on its own premise in the last three chapters. I like it in theory, but I'd have bought it better if some remnant of the house came with them. If Jane's own lurking figure was seen out of the corner of their eyes, or if some acknowledgment of their reborn nature was acknowledged by the normies of the book. For a book not afraid to get dirty, the end felt peculiarly spotless. As noted above, the decay arc is for some reason abandoned wholesale, and while I find miserable endings difficult to swallow, I found that reversal difficult as well. Furthermore, are we sure, as constructed beings of magic, that being in the same city as the insanity witch doctor is a good idea? You guys are gonna get exorcised into oblivion, but good luck with that.
As with The Luminous Dead, it's like something essential about the book was conveniently forgotten in the service of an ending that was slightly too long and trying to do something satisfying. But it's horror. Draw the suspense right to the end. Though again, I really liked the collapsing house; it stitched up several loose ends really nicely, and helped to sell the book to me. So once again my gripes are not so significant taking other elements of the book into account. It's this balance that has saved the book: I can rationalize the book's shortcomings. No doubt care and thought was put into it. I am interested to think about these flaws more than that they spoil things for me.
One reason I avoid thrillers is because of their cavalier treatment of insanity. One reason I love horror is because treatment of insanity is rarely cavalier. This deftly handled gothic tropes, and I devoured the last 60% in one sitting. It's a book that secures me as a Caitlin Starling fan; both this book and The Luminous Dead have scratched highly specific genre itches for me. If may be that my enjoyment here was partly enabled by not having seen Crimson Peak, but on its own I thought it was a lovely balance of genre homage and proper spooky shit. She has a return reader in me.
I like plodding, bloodied-hands gothic shit, though. If you don't like gothic shit, this probably isn't going to hit. I think this book and the similarly low-rated Catherine House have a certain amount in common: they're psychological deep dives into the madness and coercion of science and magic and power. It's gory, it's difficult to read in places, it wraps up unexplained. Jane's character motivations were sometimes elided in the service of plot, which to me is what I'm able to forgive the least; more on this in a second. We spend about a hundred pages dwelling in ritual, which is a pacing nightmare and puts off readers; but in this I see homage. A character decaying slowly into madness is a staple of 19th century literature (at least, that I've been exposed to). Jane's growth arc is in fact an arc of decay, and I think fundamentally it worked and for me sold the book. (Until the last few chapters, when this decay is overwritten by a plot device. But between this and The Luminous Dead I wonder if the author struggles to land endings, continuing in the great traditions of novel-length horror writers everywhere.)
The flaws of this book can be attributed to honouring the book's concept more highly than its execution, but generally it sold me on the concept well enough that I was (almost) willing to overlook those flaws. The reason this doesn't reach up to be a solid 4-star read for me is because of Jane's motivations. The event that propels the third act is something she blames herself for... despite that it was very much something that happened to her. She feels it's her responsibility to fix, and she becomes extremely sacrificial in its pursuit. This is an arguably understandable emotional reaction, and it is eventually supported indirectly by some rumination on how alone Jane is or feels: she does not have anyone except for her husband, so her world has become very narrow in her own view. But I find this frustratingly contradictory to Jane's character. She has thoroughly established herself as a woman of reason, rarely emotional or (pardon me) "irrational" in this way prior to, you know, the insanity. But then the insanity forgives it to a degree. She says to one of the servants in the house, "My mind is not my own." Certainly true. The house -- rather, its contents -- have transformed her and Augustine by the time all this kicks off. That's how horror works. So even my biggest gripe about the book can be explained by the concept it so ardently sells.
To talk about the end for a second: SpoilerThe house full of their regrets and guilt and shame consumes them and they are remade and leave unrecognizable. Maaaan... I don't know. I feel like it didn't follow through on its own premise in the last three chapters. I like it in theory, but I'd have bought it better if some remnant of the house came with them. If Jane's own lurking figure was seen out of the corner of their eyes, or if some acknowledgment of their reborn nature was acknowledged by the normies of the book. For a book not afraid to get dirty, the end felt peculiarly spotless. As noted above, the decay arc is for some reason abandoned wholesale, and while I find miserable endings difficult to swallow, I found that reversal difficult as well. Furthermore, are we sure, as constructed beings of magic, that being in the same city as the insanity witch doctor is a good idea? You guys are gonna get exorcised into oblivion, but good luck with that.
As with The Luminous Dead, it's like something essential about the book was conveniently forgotten in the service of an ending that was slightly too long and trying to do something satisfying. But it's horror. Draw the suspense right to the end. Though again, I really liked the collapsing house; it stitched up several loose ends really nicely, and helped to sell the book to me. So once again my gripes are not so significant taking other elements of the book into account. It's this balance that has saved the book: I can rationalize the book's shortcomings. No doubt care and thought was put into it. I am interested to think about these flaws more than that they spoil things for me.
One reason I avoid thrillers is because of their cavalier treatment of insanity. One reason I love horror is because treatment of insanity is rarely cavalier. This deftly handled gothic tropes, and I devoured the last 60% in one sitting. It's a book that secures me as a Caitlin Starling fan; both this book and The Luminous Dead have scratched highly specific genre itches for me. If may be that my enjoyment here was partly enabled by not having seen Crimson Peak, but on its own I thought it was a lovely balance of genre homage and proper spooky shit. She has a return reader in me.