The Gothic Study

In the 'fiction" genre by default. It skirts near Horror though. Maybe.

                                           The Gothic Study

 

She lay upon a couch of deeply tufted leather; leather dyed a color darker than spilled burgundy, lighter than clotted blood.  Although the air in the study was almost chilling, a thin film of perspiration formed on her back, buttocks and thighs.  This effect, more of adhesion than lubrication, held her transfixed to the smooth leather, somewhere behind her the mechanical punctuation of a pendulum clock monotonously accented the silence.

 Through slats of eyelash she saw a muraled ceiling arrayed high above her in curving panorama.  The scene, an innocent harvest festival, where frescoed nudes of fat, jolly Rubenesque proportions once reveled, was now overlaid by grime.  Decades of ill trimmed wicks and poorly laid hearth fires transfigured maidens and nymphs into hags and crones, and corrupted a naïve Saturnalia into an obscene witch’s Sabbath - a Faustian Walpurgisnacht.  The cheerful pinks and blues the artist once tinted into summer were hoar-frosted over by beady, gray-green hues she associated with lichens, or the backs of toads.

A shadow imposed across the ceiling and her eyes followed intemperately, opening perhaps a millimeter.

 “You are awake at last.” The cello voice of the shadow caster resonated in the room.

“Am I alive?”  Her voice hung in the air. “Why am I so cold?” 

“What a poor host I must seem. I am standing between you and the fire.”

            He moved to her feet, draping one arm languidly over the marble shoulders of a Greek statue, his pose a study in conviviality.

“You fell faint in the ballroom. The air is cooler here, revivifying.   I took the liberty of loosening your clothes, they are here…somewhere.”

This was the same man who had whirled her around the brilliantly lit ballroom as the phonograph hissed the waltzes of Strauss. Yet somehow he was not the same man at all.  The ballroom youthful giddiness matured in the gloom of the library. The untamed wheat straw hair was darkened by water and swept back into a semblance of order.  The ruddy athletic complexion had blanched to a scholarly pallor almost matching the bust of Athena he now adorned. 

“Why am I so weak?  I feel helpless to move, as though oppressed by some great weight.”

“Rest a bit more, your strength will certainly return soon.”  He wandered at her feet not taking his eyes from hers as though remaining in her field of vision was reassuring.

“You have done this to me.  Some drug or potion…”

“You affront me,” he said.  “How could that be true?  You touched nothing on my table; your champagne flat and untasted remains in your glass.  A good year too -shame.”  He continued to pace as might a polymath who weighs solutions but finds each wanting.  “Ah,” he said, pausing his stride.  “Perhaps I placed this drug upon my own lips.  No, that answer will not serve!  You have sampled none of my offerings.”  He smiled at own joke.

Her head moved slightly to follow him.  “Yet here I am, despite your words.  You have poisoned the very air, some mist or vapor that when breathed…”

“Rest from these speculations. What miasma could I compose that would captivate you while it invigorates me? This is no alchemy that so affects you.  Mark my word.”

“If it is not science then you work through some darker art - some necromancy that gives you this power over me.”

He looked pointedly away from her.  His splayed fingers caressed the books that lined the study walls as if all answers were hidden there.  “I too sense such a power.”  He ran a fingernail slowly down the spine of a volume of Mary Shelley.  “It is an animating force - one that cannot be resisted.”

Fluidly as water he poured his body over hers until only a shadow’s thickness separated them.  His mouth sought out the unresisting alabaster flesh of her neck.  The warmth of a long blue vein flushed under his cheek.   She felt herself levitating to meet him, levitating until only her shoulders and heels seemed to press upon the couch.

He raised himself on locked arms and looked into her, past his own reflection in her eyes.  “I am not such a fool as to believe any force of mine has brought us here.  It is you. Your power has brought us to this place.”

Her hand flew, swift as thought, and slapped him with a red sound that reverberated like gunfire though the room.  “DAMN YOU!” She screamed.

The single tear which fell from his face coursed between her breasts and finally came to rest like a diamond in the navel of a slave girl.

“Damn you.” She said.  “Damn us both.” 

Then, with fingernails raking his scalp, she pulled him down to her.

Author's Note

Comments welcome

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Although I prefer writing that's less wordy and more to the point, I do recognize the skill and knowledge you've employed in writing this. As others have suggested, the style is reminiscent of Poe and perhaps other classic writers of the genre. With all the damning going on between them, I do hope intimacy can still have its way. If Burton and Taylor could cease eye scratching and get it on, there must be hope for these two. Excellent writing, for sure.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for reading and your comments. It was a departure for sure.

[knapp darko]

I really like this story, it gripped my attention from the start and I could not stop until it had finished, I loved the build up to key moments, I love the detail and it really helps to paint a picture in my head and I cant wait to read more of your work.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks, it's a complex arrangement of pretty much "off the shelf" conceits about the horror genre, but I hope it does not in any way spoof or parody that kind of writing. I wanted it to be another perspective on the genre.

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

I think this is a good piece of writing. It could be the beginning of a vampire tale or a mystery. I don't see anything bad in it. I would certainly read a book if this was the prologue. Like always I enjoy your writings. :) Rudi

[Delmar Cooper]

Glad you read it. This was a very experimental piece that used commom perceptions of gothic horror writings, the cliches of that genre, to attempt to reach a less than cliche conclusion.

[Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere]

I think it's good, Delmar, I've read a lot of this stories and I must say that yours has a certain force of attraction. :) Rudi

[S. D. Forogar]

Interesting piece! As usual, though, my Good and my Bad!

The GOOD: I found the astonishing quality of detail (and the intensely-vivid wordplay, in general) struck me as the strongest point of this piece, by far. The scene was described in a way that makes me feel quite jealous, quite jealous indeed! For that, it must easily be praised.

The Flow of this piece is excellent, and no time is skipped from the beginning of its tell until its very conclusion. This, is also worth noting.

As well, the powerful terminology (which closely ties into, but is not, the above) is something of a beautiful rarity.

The BAD: Oh, the dialogue. Even for what I know of the gothic era of human history, I found this to be the worst element of this piece by FAR. I'll list a couple of examples:

“Why am I so weak? I feel helpless to move, as though oppressed by some great weight.” Par. 10 full.

“You affront me,” he said. “How could that be true? You touched nothing on my table; your champagne flat and untasted remains in your glass. A good year too -shame.” Par. 13, Sent.'s 1-4.

“Damn you.” She said. “Damn us both.” Par. 22 full.

Some parts of this dialogue are nonsensical, others banal, even others despicably weakening to their respective characters.

The first (nonsense) example pertains to how people would, and DID, speak. People generally don't speak in similes, and when such dialogue is present it robs the character of believability or of its resonance with the audience. As well, in addition with this scene in particular, it corrupts the seriousness of the entire piece, as anyone in full control of their mental faculties would not waste their time in such formal endeavors.

The second excerpt was tasteless in a different way, as every bit of that dialogue is irrelevantly-spoken. There is NO purpose to such words; they advance neither the plot nor the characters, and merely consume space and time.

Finally, the last example directly contradicts ANY suspense the piece might have built, and weakens the female character to nothingness. Judging by these words, this is a story where (at least) the female character seemed not to care how she ended up in this situation so long as she did, so all of the "questionably-terrorizing" build-up regarding the seriousness of such an infringing, seeming assault is for naught. It might have worked if this was the intention, but that is made clear nowhere in the piece (and such words would still have the underlying contradictory effect on those spoken prior, as well as their deteriorating of said character).

With all of this dialogue, as well, there seems an underlying "formality" to it that would not exist even in such times (though, perhaps, it would in the Dracula universe; I'd read through other reviews that this piece was linked to that, but I still can't tolerate the poor spoken wordplay). In a life-threatening situation, I can't see two people being so coyly calm about themselves; perhaps the assailant, but not the victim, surely.

As well, the line "Her hand flew, swift as thought, and slapped him with a red sound that reverberated like gunfire though the room" (Par. 20, Sent. 1) goes against the above belief that she was unable to move of her own accord ["A shadow imposed across the ceiling and her eyes followed intemperately, opening perhaps a millimeter" (Par. 3 full)]. A borderline-nitpick, but something that should be clarified nonetheless.

A couple of grammatical errors persist, which I will go into at the author's desire, but they really don't detract too badly from the piece itself.

In conclusion, I mark this as an astonishing work of literary talent, but with a crippling blemish upon it in the disgusting dialogue. I would still recommend Readers take a look at it, however, for the excellent detail-work and imagery-prompting terminology.

[Delmar Cooper]

Wonderfully complete criticism. Thank you for taking your time to give me your appreciation of the story. I will take my time reading this as you certainly spent time writing it. Thank You again.

[Ken Simm.]

Interesting play on the gothic cliche as you say. I enjoyed the visual touches. The scene setting and the build up to a very satisfying denouement. As one of your other reviewers has commented you have a deft skill when it comes to word usage and it fits in very well with the genre.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for reading Ken

[Woody]

great narration Delmar. the descriptions, the comparisons. a wonderful read.

[Delmar Cooper]

Thanks for reading and I am gads it appealed to you

[Woody]

my pleasure entirely.

[Nusquam Esse]

You do not do yourself credit! This is very well written, your experience really shows! You have such a superb sense of metaphor, simile, and word choice. Your descriptions are incredible, and never take the easy route of imagery; you subtly defy cliche with each breath. I honestly, feel inadequate at describing things compared to a story like this. I mean, that was an incredible description of the ceilings painting; and I loved the phrasing of Faustian Walpurgisnacht--pure and unadulterated genius on that one! I look forward to exploring some of your other work.

[Delmar Cooper]

You are too kind, but yes it is amazing what you can do with ready made off-the-shelf parts.

[olla]

oh my goodness.. it has been a while since I roamed these... studies.... Dracula was after all a love story... I also wonder what the next page would have revealed..

[Delmar Cooper]

Olla thanks for reading. Who knows what happens next? My question was, "Who is the victim?"
Maybe there isn't one.
Cooper

[olla]

laughing.. I never thought of that.. does one have to see themselves as a victim in order to be one..?

[Delmar Cooper]

It seems to me the erotic and extraodinary women of your poetry know both the answer and the futility of the question. But, they are special.

[olla]

smiling here...

[Chris]

Chuckling here - Beware the cut and paste glitch... twice. No more will be said on that.

Cliches are earned and hence fit so when dealing with "Horror" ...well, deal with it. This was light read with more of a feel of heat. The sexuality and tension raised thoughts of where you wanted your readers to go. I wonder where the next 800 words would have taken you.

[Delmar Cooper]

Damn the torpedoes and the extra, superfluious quotation marks, full speed ahead! Drat! will amend my ways soon. Thanks for the comment and patience.
Cooper