Now I am done with this book, and I completely agree with everything I said below. I would like to tell you how it ends because it is just so contrived but I think I can hold back for now.
I liked The Mysteries Of Udolpho a lot, despite the interjections of poetry (which I tolerated) and the long descriptions of the European countryside (which I rather enjoyed). To me this book had a remarkable resemblance to a Jane Austen novel, and who can ever have enough of those? So, once done with The Mysteries of Udolpho, I went to the library and checked out one of their nine copies of The Italian (all available on the shelf, weird?).
And to my dismay, The Italian is not of the same caliber as The Mysteries of Udolpho. It is really long, very boring, and I am now forcing myself to keep reading. There is something missing that draws me into this book, and I think that something is meaningful characterization. Unfortunately, I think I like the descriptions of the countryside and spooky convent a lot better than the plot. And I am sadly unattached to any of the characters or their plight.
This book is about a young man pursuing a marriage that is opposed by his family, the plot by the family to kidnap and imprison the young woman in a convent, and the evil monk that advises the family. It is one of the first gothic novels (according to wikipedia) so for that reason it is very important.
The story was completely resolved at the end, but I won’t give it away here. I probably wouldn’t read this again, although it finally got a little more interesting as time went on. And I never figured out what the title means…everyone in this book is an Italian.
