By Virginia Feito

In Victorian Psycho, Virginia Feito immerses readers in the shadowy depths of Ensor House, a decaying mansion perched on the edge of the bleak Victorian moors. From the very first page, you’re drawn into an atmosphere so thick with gothic tension, it’s as if the cold winter air itself is seeping from the text.

At the heart of the novel is Winifred Notty, a sharp-witted and complex governess, who arrives at Ensor House to find it brimming with secrets. The mansion looms large, almost as if it were alive, a character in its own right—its cold, oppressive walls seem to mirror Winifred’s growing isolation. Every creaking floorboard and flickering candle magnifies the sense of psychological unravelling, drawing you in further with every page.

What truly captivates, though, is Winifred herself. Far from the typical fragile heroine of gothic fiction, Winifred offers razor-sharp observations, laced with a dry humour that feels surprisingly modern but fits snugly within her Victorian setting. Her voice is sardonic and cool, injecting life and wit into what could have been an overwhelmingly bleak narrative.

Winifred sees through the absurdities of the hierarchies and rituals around her, often commenting on them with a biting irony that makes the novel as darkly humorous as it is chilling. Feito skilfully balances gothic horror with wry humour, delivering grotesque details—blood, rot, decay—in such a way that they are as much a source of tension as they are of grim amusement. It’s this balance that gives the novel its distinctive edge, elevating it above your typical gothic fare.

As winter tightens its grip on Ensor House, the sense of isolation becomes suffocating. The atmosphere of the novel grows increasingly claustrophobic, reflecting Winifred’s emotional detachment from those around her. The mansion’s oppressive walls serve as an apt metaphor for her mental state, with the weight of secrets and unspoken horrors pressing in on her from all sides.

The lead-up to Christmas does little to break the cold monotony—if anything, it only heightens the dread. There’s no warmth or festive cheer to be found here, only a chilling certainty that the darkness is closing in. The winter months stretch out like a slow, creeping countdown, and Feito uses this seasonal bleakness to intensify the story’s tension, leading to an inevitable, unsettling conclusion.

At its core, Victorian Psycho explores the tension between appearance and reality—a theme that resonates well beyond its gothic setting. Winifred wears a mask of obedience, hiding her growing inner turmoil, much like the façades we curate in our modern world. Her slow unravelling serves as a powerful commentary on the dangers of maintaining these appearances, and the emotional cost of doing so.

The novel also deftly critiques power dynamics and social hierarchies, as Winifred’s position as a governess places her in an ambiguous space—not quite a servant, but far from being considered an equal by her employers. This tension, between power and powerlessness, remains just as relevant today as it was in the 19th century, with Feito drawing clear parallels to modern discussions on privilege and inequality.

As the story races towards its climax, the atmosphere becomes even more suffocating. The snow falls, the days grow darker, and Winifred’s grip on reality continues to slip. By the time Christmas arrives, it’s clear that the festive season won’t bring warmth—only the cold realisation of the horrors that have been lying in wait all along.

Victorian Psycho stays with you long after the final page. Feito has crafted a novel that isn’t just a gothic horror story—it’s a meditation on identity, isolation, and the masks we wear. Unsettling, darkly funny, and deeply atmospheric, it’s the perfect read for those long, cold winter nights. As the snow settles over Ensor House, you’ll feel a chill settle in your bones, too.

Virginia Feito’s Victorian Psycho is set to release on February 4, 2025.