Gothic Horror Review: The Clarrington Heritage

How about some Gothic Horror? The Clarrington Heritage by Ardath Mayhar sees a young bride find out the dark secrets of her husband’s family and try to survive their terrible heritage. Warning: SPOILERS.

Ben had put a bolt on the inside and cautioned her to use it always, if she was the last to come to bed. “In our home?” she’d asked him, feeling incredulous. “What could possibly harm us here?”

We meet Marise in the present - a willing recluse who’s shut herself in the Clarrington family home after a series of tragic events took away all the other occupants of the house. As she enters the several rooms to do the necessary cleaning, she remembers bits and pieces of what happened, leaving out key details to be revealed later on. This uncertain timeline that leaves out a lot of of the goings-on at the house - though Marise helpfully remembers the deaths in chronological order - helps maintain the suspense and sow doubt about what really happened. Is Marise a reliable narrator? Could she be lying to the readers or herself about how the Clarringtons died? Mayhar creates some good spooky scenes and dialogues. The Clarrington history of family madness, with its murderous children and crazy relatives locked away in a rear wing of the house’s third floor, is a perfect backstory, filled with foreboding that tells readers that even if they didn’t already know how things went for Marise, only tragedy lies ahead. The story comes to a close with the final 4 chapters that see her face the truth of what happened a decade ago and the titular heritage is finally put to rest with blood and fire.

Unfortunately, some very good moments don’t change the fact that the story has many problems. The biggest of which, and one I simply couldn’t get over, was that none of the reasons Mayhar gave throughout the story for why Ben and Marise decided to stay in the house after their son, Benjie, was born was good enough. I don’t care how guilty Ben feels for leaving, or how he feels it’s his duty to stay - none of this justifies keeping a child in a house where there’s a madwoman that can sneak out of her safe room whenever she wants. Especially after there’d been more than one suspicious death. Because of course there’s still a crazy relative with a penchant for kinslaying being kept in that room in the third floor - Penelope Clarrington, Ben’s twin sister. Naturally, she hates Marise, accuses her of trying to steal Ben from her, and has designs on Benjie. Oh, and like I wrote above, she can get out of her locked room without anyone ever being able to figure out how. The Clarringtons aren’t evil, on the contrary, they’re super nice and love Marise. Surely, they wouldn’t stop her from leaving for Benjie’s sake. So, why don’t the young couple and their baby find another place for themselves, one free of mad relatives suspected of having killed more than once? Probably because if they did, it would’ve been a very short book. For this to work, either Penelope should’ve been a lot nicer, or Ben and the other Clarringtons should’ve been a lot meaner. And then there’s when all of this is taking place. The present time with reclusive Marise is 1997, which means that the story began in the 80s. Look, I know that the second half of the XX century wasn’t as evolved as most people would like to think and there’s probably crazier stuff happening even as I type this review, but it still feels way too modern for this kind of setup. This is something that would fit better in the XVIII or XIX centuries, when a young wife like Marise would’ve had less options and greater difficulty in extricating herself from her wealthy husband and his family, especially after giving them the only existing heir, and a boy at that. Ben’s sense of duty to his family, even at the expense of his wife and child, would’ve been easier to accept, too. Also, no one would’ve expected a XIX or XVIII Ben to act so nice and accommodating towards his lower class wife. This is one situation where I think genre tropes would’ve come in handy and make the suspension of disbelief easier.

I said the uncertain timeline helped generate suspense, but it also made things confusing when Marise found out who was letting Penelope out of the room. Because it seemed that that was already happening at a time when it wouldn't have been possible. And given how the Clarringtons and the staff were constantly worrying about Penelope being able to leave her room, how could they have missed all the scheming sessions that no doubt took place? Even so, this partnership became kinda obvious halfway through the book, as the only other option for what might’ve happened - Marise being secretly guilty - would’ve required several twists. Yes, Mayhar includes some hints about her failing sanity and even made a last ditch attempt at misdirection by having her mention how the medication she was given after Ben’s funeral gave her memory lapses, but by then it was already too late in the story for it to work.

The characters that people this tragedy are more compelling due to their circumstances than their personalities, and suffer from some blandness. The crazy ones didn’t make much of an impression either. Maybe it was the fractured structure, which, while good for keeping readers on the edge of their seats, didn’t allow these characters to be more than broad sketches. Then again, we do get to spend a lot of time with Marise and her thoughts, but that didn’t help making her more interesting. For all the hints about her possibly failing sanity, she comes across as too put together and sensible. There are moments in her memories of the past, where we get to see her slowly understanding what mess she got herself into, but the continuous jumping back and forth cuts the narrative flow, interrupting her character progression. Really, for all the drama of the Clarrington family’s heritage, the story feels strangely colourless at times. This isn’t helped by the fact that Mayhar decided to add a useless subplot involving the Board of Trustees that’s currently overseeing Clarrington Enterprises on behalf of Marise. This sees their attorney, Mrs Fisk, fight with Evan, the head of the Board and Marise’s confidante, to have their boss declared insane and get the highly lucrative company away from her. Evan simply didn’t need any chapters save the last one. Conversely, the Watcher’s first chapter would’ve been enough, as the letter would’ve explained his goals. It’s already bad that we’re constantly being pulled away from the past, but the story should’ve at least stayed in the Clarrington house with Marise, and frankly, the book would’ve also benefitted from losing a few pages.

VERDICT

The Clarrington Heritage has some very good moments, but is overlong and wastes time with unnecessary storylines. Also, it’s impossible to accept that Ben and Marise would’ve stayed in that house with their son when there’s a murderous lunatic sneaking around who may have already killed a couple of people. And without that, the whole story just falls apart.

By Danforth