Creating Enchantment: a History of the Gothic and Inspiring Interactive Reading 

Edward Hyunsoo Yang is a PhD candidate and Teaching Fellow at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. A scholar of British literature of the long eighteenth century, he has particular interests in: authenticity, experimentation with literary form and genre, the Gothic, the history of the novel, influences of popular culture, the material book, and narrative performance. He is 2024 recipient of Rose Library’s English-Language Poetry and Literature Visiting Researcher Fellowship.

Fari Quae Sentiat—translation, “to say what one feels.” Thus is inscribed in the family crest of Horace Walpole, 4th Earl of Orford (1717-1797). Walpole is widely acknowledged as being the founder of the English Gothic tradition. From his publication of The Castle of Otranto in 1764, to the building of Strawberry Hill—Walpole’s personal “little Gothic castle”—the reach of Walpole’s creative efforts, and expressions, threaded through a multitude of artistic mediums and physical boundaries.1 What inspired Walpole, and the diversity of his work: as writer, antiquarian, and historian? And what’s the creative potential that Walpole identified in, and established with, the Gothic? During the Fall 2024 semester, I had the wonderful privilege of exploring these questions during my visit to the Stuart A. Rose Manuscript, Archives, and Rare Book Library. 

Walpole is a central figure of my dissertation project—entitled, Creating Enchantment: a History of the Gothic and Inspiring Interactive Reading. Throughout the course of a week, I consulted the Rose Library’s holdings of Walpole, as well as the works that inspired his Gothic project. The trajectory of my research was primarily defined by three categories: 1) the publication history and textual variations of The Castle of Otranto, 2) eighteenth century texts providing a genealogy of Walpole’s extensive endeavors as a writer, and 3) nineteenth century publications serving as a testament to Walpole’s lasting influence and legacy. 

Binding together this vibrant collection of texts is Walpole’s visibly discernable efforts to inspire what I have come to identify as interactive reading practices. While Walpole was certainly driven by his own desire for creative expression—“to say what he feels”—I contend that an equally significant feature of his work is a deep investment in having his readers participate in this creative process. Embedded within Walpole’s writing is an invitation to the reader: an invitation to collectively reimagine, and question, the realm of possibilities in our shared world.  

“Received by the Public” 

In 1764, Walpole initially published The Castle of Otranto as an English translation of an “ancient” Italian manuscript. He assumed the name William Marshall, and forged the history of the novel’s origins. However, within a year’s time, the novel experienced substantial commercial success and Walpole acknowledged authorship of Otranto. In his preface to the second edition of the novel, Walpole defends his decision to first publish Otranto “under the borrowed personage of a translator.” He shares that he, “resigned his performance to the impartial judgement of the public; determined to let it perish in obscurity, if disapproved.” Walpole credits readers with the success of Otranto, establishing the role of the reader as a critical component of his Gothic project. Furthermore, Walpole’s engagement with the reader significantly shapes the textual lives and variations of Otranto. While the Rose Library holds multiple variations of Walpole’s novel, I would like to give special attention to three particularly notable publications: the second edition published in 1765, the republication of Otranto as Volume 41 of Richard Bentley and Henry Colburn’s Standard Novel Series in 1834, and the Grey Walls Press’ edition published in 1950. 

The Rose Library’s copy of Otranto’s second edition immediately presented a pleasant surprise: this edition is a paperback book, with its original blue wrappers still intact! This was my first time encountering a paperback published in the eighteenth century, and I was truly amazed with the text’s preservation. When compared to the initial publication, the second edition of Otranto contains several paratextual changes as well: all of which significantly inform the future trajectory of the novel’s reputation. The title page of the second edition now includes the subtitle—“A Gothic Story”—which legibly signals the birth of a new literary tradition. Following the title page is a “Sonnet to the Right Honorable Lady Mary Coke,” signed with Walpole’s initials.2 These initials serve as a visual representation of Walpole publicly acknowledging his authorship, for the first time. Finally, the second edition includes a new preface, which begins: “The favourable manner in which this little piece has been received by the public, calls upon the author to explain the grounds on which he composed it.” Walpole’s decision to directly address his reader in this publication, alongside its material changes, become even more pronounced in future editions. 

The reach of Walpole’s Otranto, amongst popular readership, was further extended with its republication as a part of Bentley and Colburn’s Standard Novels Series. In 1831, Bentley and Colburn began republishing cheaper editions of novels which were previously available at substantially higher costs. With the aim of reaching a larger demographic of popular readership, the series continued for 24 years, and ultimately included 126 volumes. The reprinting of Otranto in Volume 41 is especially significant, as it’s included alongside two other Gothic stories: William Beckford’s Vathek: An Arabian Tale, and Matthew Gregory Lewis’ The Bravo of Venice. Furthermore, this edition also includes a multitude of paratextual additions. Preceding the main story are the following: a portrait of Walpole, a title page which includes Walpole’s name and title, a short biography of Walpole—or, “Sketch of Life”—written by Lord Dover, and “Critical Remarks” written by Sir Walter Scott. This printing of Otranto, also includes prefaces from both the first and second editions. While Otranto’s textual history begins in anonymity, its inclusion in the Standard Novel Series completely unveils any sense of mystery. Left in the hands of new publishers, English readers of the nineteenth century seem to have interacted with Walpole’s story in a completely new manner. 

Experimentation with paratextual spaces—and the reading experiences that these innovations inspire—is clearly evident, even in 20th century republications of Otranto. The Rose Library’s copy of the Grey Walls Press’ Otranto, is one such example. This edition was published with a dust jacket; furthermore, the front cover of the dust jacket shares all of the elements of the title page shown above. Walpole’s name is now clearly etched in the cover of the book, and underneath his name is an image of a giant helmet: the image that has become most symbolic, most representative, of Otranto throughout its history. Additional editorial changes in this particular copy include: publishing the preface to the 1st edition while excluding the preface to the 2nd edition, reproducing the “Sonnet” with Walpole’s initials, and a number of “line drawings and lithographs by Gordon Noel Fish.” These images are placed at the beginning of each new chapter, and additional images are also interwoven throughout the book. 

Embedded with the history of Otranto, is Walpole’s deference to the reading public. This sense of deference seems to have served as an invitation for readers to actively engage with the novel, and participate in its history. This participation has resulted in a vibrant and diverse collection of reprintings, as evidenced by the multiple copies held at the Rose Library. 

“The Liberty of Continuing, Varying, or Dropping the Plan” 

With the aim of critically assessing and historically contextualizing Walpole’s experimentation with reader engagement, my research at the Rose Library also included an exploration of various eighteenth century texts making significant use of paratextual spaces. 

One specific publication I had the privilege of engaging with is Horace Walpole and Thomas Gray’s Miscellaneous Antiquities; or, a Collection of Curious Papers. Described as a collection of “anecdotes and historic papers,” this text shares a number of significant insights into the features prominent in Walpole’s writing. Just as with Otranto, Walpole once again uses a paratextual space—an “Advertisement”—to directly address his readers. Furthermore, Walpole and Gray anticipate any potential criticisms that readers might have of their publication, and preemptively address these concerns. The “liberty” with which Walpole pursues this project, while simultaneously signaling deference to his potential readers, seems to be a quality that persists throughout his works. Perhaps what’s most revealing about Miscellaneous Antiquities, however, is its open declaration as an “imitation of Peck’s Desiderata Curiosa.” 

Serendipitous discoveries have the potential to revitalize the momentary lulls that can accompany long hours of archival research. Once I learned that Walpole’s Miscellaneous Antiquities was modeled after a literary precedent, I immediately searched for Peck’s Desiderata Curiosa in the Rose Library’s database. I was absolutely thrilled to find that the library indeed holds a copy in its collection, and the wonderful staff immediately pulled the text for me. 

 Translated to “interesting things desired,” Desiderata Curiosa was initially published by Francis Peck in two volumes: in 1732 and 1735, respectively. Walpole’s direct engagement with Desiderata brings to light several significant contexts. Published as a miscellany, or a collection of various written pieces by multiple authors, this text is in its very nature a collaborative effort. The publisher functions as a curator, preparing a collection to be shared with prospective readers. The Rose Library’s copy also includes a number of delightful, paratextual surprises. This copy includes a letter from Thomas Evans, the publisher, to his readers; or, subscribers. A list of subscribers financially supporting the reproduction of this text is also included. 

Across the miscellanies published by Peck and Walpole is a shared acknowledgement of the reader. The reader is openly recognized, by the authors, as an integral part of an interactive process enabled by the material text. While Peck addresses a specific group of readers, the privileged nobility, Walpole’s work seems to address a more general reading public: a crucial sociological development in 18th century England. Walpole’s decision to creatively experiment with, and further build upon, existing literary precedents is also representative of his own experiences as a reader. 

Paving a Road for Writers of Brighter Talents: the Birth of a Gothic Tradition 

In his preface to the 2nd edition of Otranto, Walpole writes, “if the new rout he has struck out shall have paved a road for men of brighter talents, he shall own with pleasure and modesty, that he was sensible the plan was capable of receiving greater embellishments than his imagination or conduct of the passions could bestow on it.” In this passage, Walpole seems to express a sentiment that places his writing in a more expansive literary history. Just as Walpole draws upon past reading experiences and literary precedents to produce his writing, he also hopes to be an influence on future writers. How, then, has Walpole been read? And what are some of the physical, textual, manifestations of Walpole’s influence moving from the eighteenth to nineteenth century? These questions were at the center of my final research sessions at the Rose Library. 

Alongside Otranto, Anecdotes of Painting in England is often considered to be one of Walpole’s most representative works. Initially published in 1762, Anecdotes is a comprehensive catalog of painters in English history. The origin story of Anecdotes once again reveals Walpole’s unique ability to “digest,” reconfigure, and further build upon literary precedents. At the foundation of Anecdotes is a collection of notebooks by painter George Vertue (1684 – 1756). Walpole purchased Vertue’s notebooks in an auction at 1758, and began to critically build on these insights shortly thereafter. Anecdotes has gone through several significant iterations in its textual history, and the Rose Library’s copy is especially notable. The Rose Library’s copy of Anecdotes was published a full century after its initial publication, and passed through the hands of multiple editors. The title page of this 1862 copy shows how Anecdotes continued to evolve and grow. Furthermore, in the very first sentence of the advertisement is stated: “in offering it to the public.” Walpole seems to have created what might be considered a living text: a text under public ownership, that continues to inspire in its readers both engagement and experimentation. 

One of Walpole’s most significant successors—more specifically, in the Gothic tradition—is Ann Radcliffe. In fact, many readers often acknowledge Radcliffe as being the most representative writer of Gothic fiction. The Rose Library’s copy of Radcliffe’s The Italian thus served as an ideal text to search for the shadows of Walpole’s influence. 

While Walpole alludes to the history of the medieval romance in the prefaces to Otranto, Radcliffe directly includes “A Romance” as a subtitle. The preface of The Italian is another space in which connections can be drawn. Radcliffe further experiments with the preface, a space traditionally considered to be paratextual and extradiegetic, by blurring the lines between fiction and non-fiction altogether. The preface begins, “about the year 1764, some English travellers in Italy, during one of their excursions in the environs of Naples, happened to stop before the portico of the Santa Maria del Pianto, a church belonging to a very ancient convent of the order of the Black Penitents.” These travelers then discover a manuscript in the church, leading directly into the first chapter of The Italian. Multiple elements of the preface—an allusion to the year of Otranto’s initial publication (1764), and an Italian manuscript discovered in Naples—seem to serve as Radcliffe’s subtle acknowledgement of Walpole’s work. Each chapter of The Italian also includes an epigraph, several of which directly cite Walpole’s closet drama: The Mysterious Mother. The Italian, then, might be understood as the product of literary interactions between two prominent writers. Radcliffe’s work fulfills the prophecy laid out by Walpole, when he first introduced Otranto to the public. 

Fari Quae Sentiat: 

Throughout its history, the Gothic has had to consistently contend with criticism. The genre has yet to completely shed itself of its prevailing reputation as cheap popular fiction, even today. And yet, the Gothic continues to persist. Which brings us back to the question: what’s the value of the Gothic? What potential did Walpole, the founder of the Gothic tradition, envision with his work? 

When reflecting on the material texts I was able to interact with at the Rose Library—and the vast network that these texts collectively create—one particular features serves as an underlying thread, drawing all of them together: a visibly observable acknowledgement of the reader. True to his coat of arms, Walpole indeed put Fari Quae Sentiat into practice. His writing functions as a canvas to “say what he feels,” as evidenced by the diversity of his publications. 

At the core of Walpole’s writing, however, is an equally deep investment in interacting with his readers: inspiring his readers. My time at the Rose Library provided a unique opportunity to explore the depths of the many ways in which this inspiration has historically been facilitated. As I prepare to further build on this research, and move onto the next step of my project, I would like to sincerely express my gratitude to everyone at the Rose Library—and Emory University—who made this experience possible. And to the readers of this blog post, I close by sharing the words of Walpole… Fari Quae Sentiat.