Vathek: an Arabian Tale isn’t your typical gothic novel. It’s actually a really early one–Vathek was first published in 1786, way after Castle of Otranto kicked off the genre, but before gothic heavyweights like Ann Radcliffe and Matthew Lewis came on the scene. Vathek is actually a mashup of gothic tropes and an “Oriental story” of the Middle East.

Vathek was thought up and outlined by William Beckford in French and translated into English by his friend Samuel Henley. The story was published with a mountain of footnotes on Middle Eastern history and culture. Henley wrote the notes (with Beckford’s encouragement), adding an air of history and realism and also showing off his knowledge of “Oriental” history and culture. For a modern reader, of course, some of the “knowledge” is wrong and a whole lot is out of date, but back then it must have made Vathek feel like a real Arabian folk tale studied by scholars. In its first edition, Henley actually did claim Vathek was a real Arabian folk tale, and Beckford had to rush out his original French version to prove the story was his creation. Vathek has a weird publication history, to be sure.

The actual story is a very gothic tale of magic, decadence, and the search for forbidden knowledge, centered around the Caliph Vathek and his magician mother Carathis. It’s written in a poetic, dreamlike style that really sets it apart from other gothic tales of the time. Inspired in part by real Arabian folk tales, it reads like one, with towers reaching the heavens and strangers bearing magical gifts and a journey deep beneath the earth. I enjoyed this aspect of the book.

I just couldn’t deal with the old-timey racism, though. I’m usually pretty good at not judging the past by today’s standards–I’ll notice Victorian racism or sexism and think about it as I read but it usually doesn’t ruin a book for me. Vathek kind of got to me though. It wasn’t anything specific, just a subtle sense of “look how exotic and strange they are” running through the whole story. I just couldn’t get past the feeling that Beckford and Henley were using this whole ancient culture as a joke. I don’t think they were particularly racist by the standards of their time, and they may have admired this culture in their own way, but it kind of ruined things for me.

So far this was my least favorite gothic classic. It was a unique creation and a milestone in gothic literature and I don’t regret reading it, but I wouldn’t go looking for more like this one.

Next up is Perfume: the Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind.