This is less of a novel in the conventional sense and more of a philosophical meditation on grief, memory, and identity. Rather than offering a plot in the traditional sense, the book unfolds as a series of glimpses into the narrator’s recollections, fragmentary and dreamlike, resisting narrative closure. ✔️I appreciated the metafictional play: the narrator is both a character and a kind of surrogate for the author, blurring the boundary between fiction and lived experience. Serre also employs a number of interesting literary devices, particularly in the way she destabilizes narrative authority and engages the reader in an almost complicit relationship with the text. The prose is beautiful, elegant and often poetic. But at times, too lyrical for my taste. The tone throughout is somber and introspective, bordering on bleak. ❌ This is not a book to read lightly. It carries the emotional weight of mourning and psychological instability, which made it, at times, difficult to get through. Not due to quality, but because of its heaviness. I’d describe it as a philosophical novel that poses more questions than it answers. It’s a reflective read, but one that may not resonate with readers looking for a strong plot or resolution. Personally, I found myself craving a more traditional narrative arc by the end. That said, I can recognize the literary merit and emotional honesty of it.

A scandalous, unhinged Gothic milestone from 1796 that shaped the genre in unforgettable (and sometimes exhausting) ways. Important, yes. Enjoyable? That depends on your taste in Gothic. 👉🖤 It paved the way for the psychological nuance and moral ambiguity we see later in Poe, Shelley, Stoker, and others. My honest thoughts: 📍 I’m more drawn to what we might call “atmospheric Gothic”. Think psychological horror, emotional isolation, haunting ambiguity. 📍 While I admire its boldness, it dragged for me, especially in the latter volumes. 📍 The character names, titles, and nobility lines were a struggle. I found myself flipping back constantly. 📍 It also suffers from that classic 18th-century tendency to over-describe every action and moral. Read it if you enjoy: 🕸️Unfiltered Gothic horror with moral collapse and supernatural spectacle. 🕸️Controversial classics that test boundaries. Skip if you want: 🌙 A slow-burn, psychological build-up 🌙 Relatable characters or emotional nuance 🌙 Streamlined narratives or a quiet atmosphere I’m glad I read it for historical and genre perspective, it’s essential. But emotionally? It wore me out.

The plot felt weak and underdeveloped. Scenes rushed by with little build-up, and the dialogue came off stiff and forced. The characters lacked depth, making it hard to care about what was happening. And, honestly, it was hard to follow what was happening. Parts of the story felt jumbled and unclear. It was predictable (even though at parts unclear), and the atmosphere (something that should’ve carried a story like this) just wasn’t there.

This story was absolutely unhinged in a fun, chaotic way. It wasn’t too gross, but honestly, if I hadn’t found it through the Into Shadow series, I probably wouldn’t have picked it up. It felt more like a novella than a short story. Pretty long, and some parts dragged. The writing was very descriptive, which helped build the atmosphere, but also made it tiring at times. I had trouble keeping track of all the names, but the world itself was really vivid. To me, it felt like an unhinged and wild mix of The Witcher and Dune. Not exactly my style, but it was well-written with some great twists.

A quietly haunting and atmospheric short story that lingers just enough to unsettle, without demanding too much from the reader. The plot itself feels like it holds back a bit... But there’s a gothic subtlety to it, a sense of mystery and the uncanny that doesn’t rely on jump scares or overt horror, but rather on mood, tone, and suggestion. As part of the Into Shadow series, it stands out significantly. Compared to stories 1 and 2, this entry feels more cohesive and polished. It’s a great read before bed. Not too frightening, not too dense, but rich enough in atmosphere to stir the imagination.

Better than the first story of the series. The writing is more refined but the story is very predictable and has already been said a thousand times before. It's a very common trope. I expected more from it, especially because I am very fond of Persephone references or retellings. Did I hate it? No. Did I love it ? Also no. Would I recommend it to someone? Probably not.