1. Introduction

It is the purpose of the present survey to investigate the inner-literary functions of the supernatural element in the two early Gothic novels The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole (published in 1764) and Vathek by William Beckford (English translation by Henley and original French text by Beckford both published in succession in 1786); `inner-literary' in so far, as I will at first try to explain in which way the supernatural element - introduced into the world of the novel by Horace Walpole (Weber 1983, 9) - is actually used with regard to the construction of both plots and, consequently, in which way the supernatural really intervenes (in the full sense of the word) on the level of the characters in each of both novels: how is the supernatural actually represented? Which role does it play? In which way does it manipulate the plot? Does a special purpose become visible by means of the supernatural interventions? Does the supernatural follow a fixed plan? In which way does it represent human interests? Over and above that I will try to make clear in which way the specific use of the supernatural is instructive with regard to a historical shift from the period of Neoclassicism to early English Romanticism: in which way differ the functions of the supernatural in Vathek from those in The Castle of Otranto? What can we draw from these differences concerning a historical development of human nature - way of thinking, faith in God, attitude towards the more obscure depths of man's soul and so on - in the electric field of both epochs? At which direction is the evolution finally aimed? But before I penetrate deeper into the miraculous medieval world of The Castle of Otranto and the rather grotesque <sup>1</sup> oriental one of Vathek, I would like to give a more detailed explanation of the term `the supernatural', or rather, to have a closer look at the areas which are embraced by it, in order to make a few remarks on the general literary-historical context. 1.1. The Supernatural and the English Novel

The term `the supernatural' appears to be double-edged, somehow: on the one hand, it "embraces all those areas above or beyond the material realm" (Bloom 1998, 232) and is therefore merely based on conjectures and superstition; on the other hand, the belief in `the beyond' appears to be a widespread phenomenon which prevails in all cultures: Belief in the supernatural realm appears to be a feature of all societies and although the meaning and significance may differ from one community to another there appears to be a certain consensus in the view that creatures and

forces of the supernatural have the specific abilities to transcend both time and space, cross the divide between life and death, move between the invisible and the visible and travel freely within both the spiritual and material. (ibid., 232) As the supernatural forces - which are supposed to exist in parallel dimensions to which human beings usually have no access - are, additionally, supposed to rule and direct our physical existence, it is small wonder that the supernatural planes, instead of being usually immaterial, "are deemed to be superior to the visible and material and are feared and held in awe accordingly" (ibid., 232). According to The Castle of Otranto, this even goes partly - as we will see - for Manfred, the villain hero of the story: it is true that he mostly appears to be the disrespectful ruffian who even dares to insult the ghost of his grandfather ² and who even seems to be courageous enough to follow him "to the gulph of perdition" (Otranto, 24), even though "full of anxiety and horror" (ibid., 24). But, as I will try to show, Manfred's courage at times turns out to be a mere product of his ambition to push through his aims: there are several moments in the course of the story when he gives way to his actual feelings which present Manfred, of whom we learn that his virtues are "always ready to operate" when his passion does "not obscure his reason" (ibid., 30), as a perfectly reverent man full of awe and devotion ³ . Of course, the supernatural sphere in the first English Gothic novel is of an

explicitly divine origin. As Walpole later had admitted, he was motivated to combine the techniques of the modern novel writing with the fantastic improbabilities of the `ancient' romance, because he complained the fact that in his time "the great resources of fancy have been dammed up by a strict adherence to common life" (Otranto, Preface to the Second Edition, 7). This tendency to "put the ordinary world in touch with the mysterious" (MacAndrew 1979, 37) can be regarded - as Elizabeth MacAndrew points out in her book The Gothic Tradition in Fiction - as an indication to the beginning of an increasingly inductive study of the human mind:

The fictional form would educate the reader by manifesting the connection between abstract concepts and general human reality. Through the isolated world, ostensibly remote in space and time, the Gothic novels explore the dark aspects of the human mind, and, through their characters, they locate that world within everyday experience. (ibid., 37)

Naturally, The Castle of Otranto has only a remote connection with the exploration of the depths of the human soul, but it can certainly be regarded as a first step into this direction,

because as `a new kind of romance' it is able to create an atmosphere in which the miraculous happenings for the first time appear relatively plausible, as I will try to show. On the one hand, Walpole seemed to be bored by the mimic-realistic representation of middle-class everyday life, so characteristic for the literary creations of Henry Fielding or Samuel Richardson in Walpole's time, the period of Neoclassicism; on the other hand, the supernatural powers `still' intervene in the service of reason and moral to achieve that a disarranged order on earth is re-established in the end (Weber 1983, 9/10), as we will see. Strictly speaking, I think the story can at best be regarded as a vague and careful step into a new direction, but by no means as a real `innovation', because it is all in all too much imbued with the rational virtues of eighteenth-century prose. It is remarkable that Walpole published it for the first time as a translation by `William Marshal, Gent. From the Original Italian of Onuphrio Muralto, Canon of the Church of St. Nicholas at Otranto' ⁴ : his inclusion of the supernatural element into the world of the novel must have made him too "fearful of ridicule" ⁵ in a time when the readership seemed to dislike such experiments - and `fancy' in general. But the recognition of The Castle of Otranto "far exceeded Walpole's hopes when he wrote his story" (Lewis, viii) and, consequently, the euphoric reaction of the readership can be regarded as a sign of a literary taste which surely was on the verge of changing. Even though, it has certainly "no Romantic expansiveness", its characters are rather "puppets without psychological depth and its action is screwed to a high pitch of melodrama" (Sage 1998, 82), it has to be stated that Manfred already embodies the main features of the `Gothic villain' which indirectly question the determinacy and validity of fixed moral values to date, as Elizabeth MacAndrew points out as follows: "The features of the Gothic villain, which, to the eighteenth century, made him a sublime character, result in the compounding of good and evil in him, the creation of a mixed character, and a frightening vision of a world of relative moral values" (MacAndrew 1979, 44). Burke's treatise A Philosophical Inquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful (published in 1757) can be regarded as "a blueprint for an aesthetics of terror and horror, laying down a set of conditions for the excitement of the reader's passions", in which it is the author's task "to evoke fear, grandeur and awe in the soul of the reader" (Sage 1998, 82). From Elizabeth MacAndrew's point of view, the reader cannot condemn the Gothic villain entirely, because he is just `sublimely' wicked: he causes the reader to feel with him by filling him with `pleasurable astonishment' (MacAndrew 1979, 44). Indeed, according to The Castle of Otranto it must have been this sort of astonishment which the readership appreciated so much, because there can still be no question of real terror ⁶ . Or is it possible that the imagination of ghosts which intervene in the name of the divine will could

have been able to terrify the readership in the second half of the eighteenth century so exceedingly? However, the supernatural spectrum is immensely wide: in The Castle of Otranto, the forces break into the human plane in the form of the miraculous, whereas in William Beckford's Vathek, written twenty-two years later, they already do so - although not explicitly - in the form of the horrific and demonic, as we will see. The fact that the supernatural forces "range from the benevolence of angels and spirit guides to terrifying satanic (but not necessarily evil) entities" (Bloom 1998, 233) expresses, as I will try to point out, a gradually rising interest in the more obscure regions of the human soul in the electric field between Neoclassicism and Romanticism in England. 2. The Functions of the Supernatural in The Castle of Otranto

"If this air of the miraculous is excused, the reader will find nothing else unworthy of his perusal" (Otranto, Preface to the First Edition, 4). - Apart from a number of visions, dreams and prophecies exactly ten supernatural occurrences take place in the course of the story which all can unambiguously be classified as `miracles' (Lichius 1978, 112). As a miracle is defined as a "good or welcome act or event which does not follow the known laws of nature and is therefore thought to be caused by some supernatural power" <sup>7</sup> , one question arises automatically: good or welcome for whom? Certainly not for Manfred, the villain hero of the story, whose grandfather Ricardo once killed the legitimate owner of Otranto, Alfonso, by poison. He has to "pay the price of usurpation for all" (Otranto, 109), as he aptly remarks towards the end of the story, when he no longer sees any possibility to prevent what seems to be the decision of heaven. Whenever `ghosts' intervene in the plot, they do so in service of the divine will: Otranto shall be given back to its legitimate heir; the order which is thrown out of gear by a malicious murder and a faked testament shall at last be re-established again (Weber 1983, 10).

Indeed, not only the idea of an `order re-established' reminds one irrevocably of Shakespeareof whom Walpole was very fond <sup>8</sup> - and his tragedies, and thereby of Aristotle's theory of tragedy in his Poetics. When Frederic, the marquis of Vincenza, father of Isabella and legitimate claimant of Otranto, who has been presumed dead until this moment, arrives at court, things become more and more complicated for Manfred: consequently, the moment of Frederic's unexpected return can be classified as a `peripety'; the moment of the reversal of the hero's fortune. Over and above that, there is a classic moment of recognition of truth (`anagnorisis') at the end of the story; ignorance at last gives way to knowledge as the answers to all open questions, including the whole background information, are given to the characters within the story - as well as to the reader - by Father Jerome and Manfred himself. To a large

extent, Aristotle's claim of `unity of place' is justified; in a true Shakespearean manner, the reader becomes acquainted as well with common characters (Bianca, Jaquez, Diego) as with noble ones (Hippolita, Theodore, Matilda, Isabella); even `comic relief' is achieved by the inclusion of a comic episode - namely, Jaquez' and Diego's attempt to explain to Manfred what they saw in the gallery at the end of the first chapter (Otranto, 30-33) - "aimed to relieve the tension and heighten the tragic element by contrast" ⁹ . Walpole even had Aristotle's `tragic'

effects in mind: "Terror, the author's principal engine, prevents the story from ever languishing; and it is so often contrasted by pity, that the mind is kept up in a constant vicissitude of interesting passions" (Otranto, Preface to the First Edition, 4). In his book The Gothic Flame, Devendra P. Varma, with regard to an obvious and intended `drama-likeness', particularly points out the structure of the novel:

Indeed, The Castle of Otranto is a deftly constructed piece of work preserving all the dramatic unities, moving straight towards the climax, and emphasizing the structural technique to excite the reader's curiosity. The five chapters of the story resemble five acts of a tragedy, and the complications of the plot are resolved only in the end. The various portends succeed one another in a most striking manner and gradually prepare us for the grand catastrophe. They bear each upon the other towards the accomplishment of the ancient prophecy, announcing the ruin of the house of Manfred (Varma 1957, 63)

Of course, Manfred is right from the beginning completely aware of this `ancient' prophecy Devendra P. Varma mentions; its content already appears on the first page of the first chapter of the story, pronouncing that "the castle and lordship of Otranto should pass from the present family, whenever the real owner should be grown too large to inhabit it" (Otranto, 15/16). The reader is at this point - and without any effort - able to comprehend that it is "difficult to make any sense of this prophecy" (ibid., 16); on the level of the characters, surely difficult for the domestics, but not for Manfred! He certainly knows the burden of his race and, consequently, he is anything but careless about this prophecy: the fear of its fulfilment is the motive for Manfred's very first act right at the beginning of the story, namely, his arrangement of "a marriage for his son with the marquis of Vincenza's daughter, Isabella" (ibid., 15). I think, before I penetrate deeper into the `miraculous realm' of Otranto, we carefully have to consider Manfred's situation. Apart from the fact that he is fully aware of the inherited guilt of his race, the state of health of Conrad, his only son and male heir, gives

cause for concern. That Manfred is pretty worried about Conrad's infirm state of health, that he even fears to lose his only son before he is married, we can draw from the following passage:

Hippolita, his [Manfred's] wife, an amiable lady, did sometimes venture to represent the danger of marrying their only son so early, considering his great youth, and greater infirmities; but she never received any other answer than reflections on her own sterility, who had given him but one heir. (ibid., 15) Certainly, Manfred has pondered over the idea of a marriage between Conrad and Isabella for a long period, but now the time is ripe! With the prophecy on his tail and his only heir being in a serious state of health - still very young, but old enough to marry -, Manfred has to react. He tries to avoid a possible fulfilment of the prophecy by uniting the blood of his race, burdened with the guilt of murder and usurpation, with the blood of the race of the legitimate possessor of Otranto, Frederic, the marquis of Vincenza. And it is not quite difficult for Manfred to have Isabella at his disposal and, consequently, to order the marriage between her and his son, for her father Frederic is presumed dead and is therefore not able neither to reject the contract nor to consent to it. In her book Der englische Schauerroman, Ingeborg Weber refers to Manfred's predominant motives from which he never leaves off until the `catastrophe' in the last chapter: his firm intention to secure, besides the survival of his race, the possession of Otranto:

Was Manfred ererbt von seinen Vätern, den usurpierten Besitz, sucht er für sein Geschlecht zu sichern, selbst um den Preis einer tiefen Schuldverstrickung. (...) Manfreds Ziel, von dem er bis ans bittere Ende des versehentlichen Mordes an der eigenen Tochter Matilda nicht läßt, ist es, den Fortbestand seines Geschlechtes und den Besitz von Otranto zu sichern. (Weber 1983, 10/11)

Short before the forcibly arranged marriage, Conrad is found dashed to pieces by an "enormous helmet, an hundred times more large than any casque ever made for human being, and shaded with a proportionable quantity of black feathers" (Otranto, 17) which belongs to the statue of the once murdered legitimate possessor of Otranto, Alfonso. The effect of this first intervention of supernatural powers is quite obvious: without a successor, Manfred seems to be pretty incapable of uniting both races, the legitimate and the illegitimate, and so to avoid a possible fulfilment of the prophecy. It is quite comprehensible that Manfred, seemingly

suffering not so much from the loss of his only son than from the loss of a potential heir, grows "perfectly frantic" when some of the "vulgar spectators" declare that the helmet is "missing from Alfonso's statue" (Otranto, 19) in the church of St. Nicholas: the divine will, confirmed by this supernatural intervention in accordance with the inherited guilt of Manfred's race and the prophecy, hardly could not be demonstrated in a clearer way. It is the one thing that Manfred obviously is not able to bear the responsibility for the atrocious deed of his grandfather, but through the arrangement of a marriage between Conrad and Isabella he tried to intervene in the heavenly order, and this `nasty behaviour' cannot be tolerated by the ghosts. As Friederike Lichius already has demonstrated in her book Schauerroman und Deismus, all of the ten miracles in The Castle of Otranto are aimed at a prevention of certain relations and acts which would represent an obstacle towards the legitimate order on Otranto: Gemäß dem in der Moral ausgesprochenen Rache- und Vergeltungsmotiv haben alle Wunder die Aufgabe, Verbindungen und Taten zu vereiteln, die der rechtmäßigen Ordnung auf Otranto entgegenstehen, und zwar mit den Mitteln der Eliminierung oder Warnung/Verzögerung. (Lichius 1978, 112)

Over and above that, she emphasises that the method of representation, with regard to the ten miracles, is either `direct' or `indirect'; that means that the miracles either occur in the presence or absence of the characters and, of course, the reader (ibid., 112). In case of a closer comparison between this first intervention of the supernatural, which marks the beginning of a series of miracles spreading somewhat irregularly ¹⁰ over the five chapters, it becomes obvious

that this is the only one having the death of a character as its direct consequence, whereas the other miraculous interventions rather tend to warn, interrupt or interfere. Even the method of representation is unique: Conrad is found dashed to pieces by the helmet; consequently, the miracle has already happened, but with its evidence still being obvious for the characters as well as for the reader, whereas in other cases of an indirect method of representation the predominant form of mediation is usually the report of a witness (ibid., 112). The ghosts' first strike mediated by the report of a witness would have had an unpleasant side effect: implausibility. Regarding an inner-literary level, the way Conrad is killed at the very beginning of the story contributes to an atmosphere in which supernatural interventions are felt as adequate means with regard to the solution of conflicts, as Friederike Lichius points out clearly:

Zur Konstituierung einer Atmosphäre, in der übernatürliche Interventionen als adäquate Mittel der Konfliktlösung empfunden werden, ist es von ausschlaggebender Bedeutung, daß das erste Ereignis dieser Art als unbezweifelbar faktisches Wunder im Bewußtsein der Romanfiguren und Leser etabliert wird. (ibid., 117)

Certainly, this is not the only aspect that gives reasons for the special position of the ghosts' first strike. Just consider that it takes an `enormous helmet' to crush the weakly Conrad, who physically represents an extremely sharp contrast towards it <sup>11</sup> . On the one hand, the exaggeration in this contrast is so much dominant that the whole scene seems to be able to contribute to the reader's amusement; but on the other hand, this first supernatural intervention - apart from being, as has already been discussed, exceedingly distinct in its function for the plot - leaves behind a kind of `memorial' which remains at court until the end of the story, and which is thereby able to remind (the characters as well as the reader) of the permanent presence of supernatural powers on Otranto (ibid., 118). Consequently, the helmet constitutes a basis on which the following miracles actually become probable and - this aspect will be explained soon - even possible (ibid., 118). From now on, Manfred won't get rid of the ghosts which his grandfather Ricardo had unleashed by poisoning `Alfonso the Good' (Weber 1983, 11). From my point of view, the following `battle' between Manfred and the heavenly powers resembles a game of chess in which the first two moves are already done: at first, the opening of `black', namely the arrangement of the marriage between Isabella and Conrad; then, as a countermeasure of heaven (`white', of course) the elimination of Conrad. It has to be admitted that this countermeasure has, with regard to the fact that it is the ghosts' very first strike, relatively disastrous consequences; at first, it seems to be impossible for Manfred - his only heir dead and gone - to return this `move' anyway. But, as a true villain hero, Manfred is able to use much rawer methods to push through his aims: to answer the strike by which the supernatural powers have foiled his plans of the safeguarding of both the succession and possession of Otranto, Manfred decides to force the divorce from his unfruitful ¹² wife Hippolita in order to marry Isabella himself. Striking is, on the one hand, the speed by which Manfred seems to have cleared up his mind, and on the other hand, the flexibility by which he is able to change his plans in just a few moments. Consider that the first words Manfred utters, immediately after the disfigured corpse of his son has been carried into the hall, are "Take care of the lady Isabella" (Otranto, 17). As Hippolita hears that Manfred rather wants a discussion with Isabella than with his own wife and daughter (Matilda), she aptly remarks that he couldn't "support the sight of his own family" and even encourages Isabella to console him

and tell him she would smother her "own anguish rather than add to his" (ibid., 21). Hippolita, always appearing as the female incarnation of virtue, does not seem to believe Manfred capable of such an insolent intention.

When Manfred tries to court Isabella, declaring that she should have "a husband in the prime of his age", who will know how to value her beauties, and "who may expect a numerous offspring" (ibid., 22/23), she is, as one can easily comprehend, completely shocked. When he then tries to touch her, she even is "half-dead with fright and horror" (ibid., 23) and, finally, tries to escape from him. When Manfred, determined to push through his intention by force, rises to pursue her, the fatal helmet which has slain the poor Conrad rises to the height of the window with its waving plumes becoming visible for both Isabella and Manfred (ibid., 23). Of course, this second miracle is neither a real `strike' nor an intervention in the full sense of the word, but this incident at least achieves that Manfred is slightly puzzled, and that Isabella is able to gather some courage to declare something that leads to one of the most interesting verbal exchanges of the whole story with regard to its moral conclusion, as I think: "Look, my lord! See heaven itself declares against your impious intentions!" - and Manfred immediately replies: "Heaven nor hell shall impede my designs" (ibid., 23). I do not agree with Friederike Lichius when she remarks that this supernatural incident functions as an interruption of the discussion between Manfred and Isabella (Lichius 1978, 112), for, the moment the plumes of the helmet are "waving backwards and forwards" (Otranto, 23), Isabella has already started from Manfred to escape; consequently, this incident rather functions as an interruption of the pursuit. But, over and above that, it indirectly contributes - by means of the short but expressive verbal exchange between Manfred and Isabella - to a clear distinction between `good' and `evil'; to a clarification of both positions. For the very first time, the word `heaven' is pronounced and it is neither called into question by Isabella nor by Manfred that really heavenly powers are responsible for this miracle. This attitude represented here by the characters, to take it as a matter of course that nothing else but heaven itself can be responsible for the miraculous protection of the innocent from the cruel, clearly reflects the spirit of the time: certainly, it is true that Walpole has introduced the supernatural into the world of the novel, but in The Castle of Otranto it still renders a good job towards reason and moral, as Ingeborg Weber makes clear in the following passage: Ja gerade das Übernatürliche, dem Walpole Eingang verschafft in die Welt des Romans, dessen Autoren (...) bislang eingeschworen waren auf eine mimetisch-realistische Wiedergabe bürgerlicher Alltagswirklichkeit, steht [noch] ganz im Dienste von Vernunft und Moral. (Weber 1983, 9/10)

When Devendra P. Varma declares that Walpole "embodies in himself the particular antiquarian phases of early English romanticism" (Varma 1957, 46), this, among other things, shows clearly that The Castle of Otranto marks the first step into a new direction: namely, into a domain in which not only the literary preoccupation with the world is becoming more and more obscure, and in which `God' and `heaven' fade more and more into the background. But now, I would like to return again to the story itself, for I have already clarified a few historical matters and will, additionally, try to continue such clarifications in a more detailed way especially in the last chapter of this treatise.

The third miracle follows directly on the second one. It is remarkable that before the portrait of Manfred's murderous grandfather Ricardo leaves the frame of his picture, it utters "a deep sigh" and even "heave[s] its breast" (Otranto, 23). This happens immediately after Manfred has declared that neither heaven nor hell shall keep him off from taking Isabella by force. Obviously, even the ghost of Ricardo, himself being - or rather having been - guilty of an enormously atrocious deed, detests the behaviour of his grandson. Isabella, taking notice more of Manfred's confusion than of the portrait coming to life, because her back is turned to the picture ¹³ , uses the moment to escape. Her flight turns out to be successful, for now the portrait

of Ricardo quits its panel and descends on the floor just before Manfred could have gathered again enough courage to continue the pursuit. At first, this miracle contributes to Manfred's "inability to keep his eyes from the picture" (ibid., 24) and, consequently, it offers Isabella an opportunity to fly; secondly, as the ghost of Ricardo is able to make Manfred follow him (or rather it) towards the chamber just to shut the door with a bang before Manfred could enter it, this third supernatural intervention endows Isabella with precious time to reach a subterraneous passage leading from the vaults of the castle to the church of saint Nicholas. Now, from Manfred's point of view, it is no longer `heaven', but `hell' which is responsible for such supernatural occurrences; as he considers his own intentions, even if they may appear unusually cruel, to be absolutely justified ¹⁴ , it just could have been - in his eyes - an "infernal spectre" (ibid., 24) that has irritated him so exceedingly, and, consequently, has made possible Isabella's successful escape. Manfred already seems to be aware of the fact that the interventions of the supernatural powers are aimed at a prevention of his plans - so, that it is obviously the will of a `higher' power that the blood of both races shall not be mixed -, but he supposes them to be of a `infernal' origin, because he guesses himself, or wants to guess himself to be on the right side. Isabella not only succeeds in escaping to the monasterywhere she is safe at first from Manfred's intentions - because Theodore, the young virtuous peasant who later turns out to be the son of the friar, Father Jerome, and even "the true heir of

Alfonso" (ibid., 108), helps her to open the trapdoor to the secret passage: another interruption, caused this time indirectly by a supernatural incident, takes place, which endows Isabella again with more time to escape.

When Manfred, now ambitious to search for Isabella in the subterranean passages, meets Theodore at the trapdoor, he becomes, of course, suspicious and wants to know from him: "Why didst thou shut the trapdoor before thou hadst descended the steps?" (ibid., 30). Exactly in the moment it seems like Theodore is no longer able to make any excuses, the servants Jaquez and Diego appear in a confused mood to report to Manfred what they have seen in the gallery, namely leg and foot of a giant stretched at length on the floor, "as large as the helmet below in the court" (ibid., 33). As it takes them nearly three pages to get down to brass tacks (ibid., 31-33), Isabella has in the meantime gained enough time for her escape; apart from this, several other functions are connected with this fourth miracle, which is presented indirectly by means of the report of two witnesses, but which is, nevertheless, plausible on the basis of the prophecy and, of course, of the supernatural occurrences which already have taken place. This episode, as already has been pointed out, contributes - besides its main effect - in a true Shakespearean manner to `comic relief': it seems like it was Walpole's deliberate intention to prevent the reader, who must have been - at least in the author's eyeswitness of strange and terrifying incidents on the recent pages, from being overcharged by tragic emotions. Over and above that, this episode achieves that Manfred temporarily forgets his suspicion towards Theodore.

In chapter two, Theodore turns out to be the son of Father Jerome ¹⁵ , alias the count of Falconara, who informs Manfred that Isabella is safe in the monastery. Jerome, for whom Manfred somehow feels deep respect ¹⁶ , expresses towards Manfred that he would be "the minister of a mightier prince than Manfred" (ibid., 46), and he warns him "not to pursue the incestuous design" on his "contracted daughter" Isabella (ibid., 48). In Jerome's eyes, what Manfred has in mind is "a marriage, which, founded on lust or policy, could never prosper", because the "spectre, which passed from the race of Alfonso" to Manfred's "cannot be preserved by a match which the church will never allow" ¹⁷ (ibid., 48). So, it seems like not only `heaven' has conspired against Manfred, but, additionally, its representative institution on earth. But, instead of coming to the conclusion that his aims are nearly unattainable, Manfred orders Theodore to be beheaded, because he suspects him to be Isabella's lover ¹⁸ . Driven by fury and blind jealousy, Manfred bids Theodore to "kneel down and prepare to receive the fatal blow" (ibid., 53), but not before Manfred has permitted him a true confessor, namely Father Jerome. But then, the "execution is finally set aside as Father Jerome, by means of a

birth-mark, discovers in Theodore his long-lost child" (Varma 1957, 50). Now, Manfred starts a blackmail attempt, as he now sees a further possibility to push through his aims; he offers Jerome a perfidious deal: the delivery of Isabella, whose hiding-place Jerome has carefully kept secret from Manfred, against the life of his son. In the moment Jerome considers how to decide in such a dilemma, the trampling of horses is heard: "Frederic, Marquis of Vincenza, father of Isabella and the real claimant of Otranto, arrives, and his arrival is followed by further prodigies: a brazen trumpet miraculously salutes him at the gate of the castle; the plumes of the enchanted helmet nod vigorously" (Varma 1957, 50).

These `further prodigies', as Devendra P. Varma calls them, mark the transition to the third chapter. This mysterious interaction between the sound of the trumpet and the nodding enchanted helmet, consequently, between powers that threaten Manfred inside and outside the walls of the castle, makes Manfred - at least for a short while - tremble with fear (Weber 1983, 12). It is remarkable, that the plumes of the helmet are even "shaken with greater violence than before" (Otranto, 57) when Manfred, in a temporary fit of fearful devotion, starts to reproach himself in a monologue ¹⁹ . For a few moments, Manfred practises reasonable

insight ²⁰ , and so grants Jerome the life of Theodore. The function of this supernatural

intervention is also quite obvious: it puts Manfred in the position to reflect upon his former deeds and intentions with the effect of an unusually reasonable attitude and, over and above that, it prevents the immediate execution of Theodore, the true heir of Otranto. If we regard this miracle in a close relation to the next one, what, as I think, makes sense in this context as "the plumes of the enchanted helmet" are just "agitated in the same extraordinary manner as before" (ibid., 62), another function becomes obvious. The plumes of the helmet are miraculously agitated for the first time when the trampling of horses, or rather the noise of the approaching Frederic is heard; the second time this miraculous occurrence takes place, Frederic actually enters the court to assert his claim on the inheritance of Alfonso. Friederike Lichius points out that these miracles, additionally, refer to the legitimacy of Frederic's claim - just consider the approving and greeting effect of the nodding helmet - and that it is the first time that Manfred interprets the miracles as a reaction to his behaviour (Lichius 1978, 113). After the plumes of the helmet have been agitated, Manfred drowns in fear and self-doubt ²¹ ; after the second `agitation' it says that it "required intrepidity like Manfred's not to sink under a concurrence of circumstances that seemed to announce his fate" (Otranto, 62). With other words: the fear in him arises again, but, for he certainly does not want to present himself as a coward towards Frederic, he is able to suppress it. With regard to both miracles, it hopefully becomes clear what is meant by the previous allusion that the miracles not only become

probable on the basis of the `monumental' helmet, but even possible (Lichius 1978, 118): the helmet serves as a kind of plaything of the heavenly powers which can be manipulated by the ghosts whenever the situation affords it (ibid., 118). That it is quite suitable for this function is obvious: on the one hand, it reminds of Alfonso, and thereby indirectly of Manfred's illegitimate ownership of Otranto, and on the other hand, every of its movements is, because of its enormous dimensions, immediately discernible for everyone.

The next miraculous occurrence in chapter three is just a minor one, for, actually, in this case it is impossible to speak of an intervention in the full sense of the word, as I think, although it symbolically underlines once again who is the legitimate owner of Otranto: as Frederic, still in disguise of a knight, crosses the court, the gigantic sword of Alfonso's statue falls to the ground opposite to the helmet, where it remains "immovable" (Otranto, 63). But Manfred, who now is "almost hardened to preternatural appearances" surmounts "the shock of this new prodigy" (ibid., 63). However, Manfred unswervingly hold on to his aim. This is astonishing against the background that Manfred is now completely aware of the fact that Frederic is, as it were, `in league' with the ghosts; over and above that, it is not easy to make out which possibilities are still open to Manfred to secure, on the one hand, the survival of his race, and on the other one, his continual possession of Otranto. But, ingenious as we know him, Manfred foresees another possibility to achieve his aims as he recognises that Frederic is extremely attracted by his daughter Matilda ²² : he offers Frederic the hand of his daughter, on

condition that Frederic waves his claim on the possession of Otranto and, additionally, accepts the marriage of his daughter Isabella and Manfred himself. Indeed, it seems like Manfred tries to fool his fate whenever he has not enough strength to conquer it (Weber 1983, 13). Of course, the reader may find it pretty improbable that Frederic, who is supposed to be "the nearest of blood to Alfonso", and who has come "to claim his succession, would yield to an alliance with the usurper of his right" (Otranto, 92), but just a few lines further it says that the "weak prince" has been "struck with the charms of Matilda", and therefore listens "but too eagerly to the offer" (ibid., 92). However, Frederic consents to the double marriage, even though on condition that Hippolita - "for form only" (ibid., 92) - consents beforehand to the divorce from Manfred.

According to their function, the next three miracles are closely connected with each other, for they are gradually aimed at an indirect prevention of the double marriage which offers a last opportunity for Manfred to circumvent the prophecy (Lichius 1978, 117). The seventh supernatural intervention ²³ , the only one in the fourth chapter, turns out to be a further warning, although this time it appears to be a by far more offensive one. When Manfred, who

has  hastened to the convent to force Hippolita to consent to their divorce, joyfully proclaims  

that "Frederic accepts Matilda's hand, and is [even] content to wave his claim" (Otranto, 93)

of  the possession of Otranto, so, that he has almost succeeded in circumventing what is  

predicted  by the ancient prophecy', three drops of blood fall from the nose of Alfonso's  

statue.  Jerome, who previously has exhorted Hippolita "never to yield to the divorce" (ibid.,  

93),  immediately cries out: "Behold ( ) mark this miraculous indication that the blood of  

Alfonso  will never mix with that of Manfred " (ibid., 93) Apart from its function as a  

warning  of Manfred, who indeed turns pale at once (ibid., 93), this occurrence, additionally,  

states  the ill-humour of the supernatural powers according to Frederic's weakness (Weber  

1983,  13) Of course, Manfred quickly recovers from this shock, and - for his jealousy  

towards  Theodore is still prevailing - declares: "Whoever weds Isabella, it shall not be father  

Falconara  's started-up son" (Otranto, 94)  

However  , even at the beginning of chapter five, Manfred sees no reason to alter his course or  

to  give up his aims. His actual intentions are marvellously expressed by the following  

passage  : " Frederic had discovered so much passion for Matilda, that Manfred hoped to  

obtain  all he wished by holding out or withdrawing his daughter's charms, according to the  

marquis  should appear more or less disposed to co-operate in his views" (ibid., 96)  

Intentionally,  Manfred uses his own daughter as a bait. Probably, the reader may now expect -  

as  a countermeasure - the miraculous execution of Matilda, which would defeat Manfred's  

plans  , as it seems, completely. But this certainly would have been, from Walpole's point of  

view,  too awkward and too foreseeable. As Walpole was ambitious to keep the reader's mind  

up  "in a constant vicissitude of interesting passions" (Otranto, Preface to the First Edition, 4),  

the  character of Matilda is spared up for a by far more intricate function. Actually, one could  

state  that the heavenly order would have been re-established by far more effectively if the  

helmet  had not hit Conrad, but Manfred - but the result at best would have been the first  

Gothic  short short story' If the efficiency of the supernatural interventions at times seems to  

be  rather deficient, and the methods of the ghosts appear somewhat awkward and involved,  I

think  , it is just for the sake of increasing suspense by lengthening Manfred's tragedy.  

The  next supernatural intervention is aimed at a prevention of the union of the legitimate and  

the  illegitimate race in so far, as it achieves that Frederic's resolve to agree to the double  

marriage  is somehow shaken. As Manfred, sure of victory, discusses matters of the  

celebration  of the planned double marriage with Frederic, short after Manfred finds him  

  "disposed to his wish" (Otranto, 98), Bianca bursts into the room "with a wilderness in her  

look  and gestures" expressing "the utmost terror" (ibid , 98), declaring she has seen a gigantic  

hand in armour "upon the uppermost banister of the great stairs" (ibid., 100). As a truly `common' character, she innocently, but absolutely aptly remarks: "...for certain it comes to warn your highness; why should it appear to me else! I say my prayers morning and evening..." (ibid., 98). At first, Manfred tries to question Bianca's credibility ²⁴ in front of Frederic, but the marquis soon has to tell from Bianca's extreme behaviour that this must be "more than fancy", for her terror appears him to be "too natural and too strongly impressed to be the work of imagination" (ibid., 99). After all, Frederic has "gathered enough from Bianca's discourse to persuade him that heaven declared itself against Manfred" (ibid., 100), but just a few moments later, carnal desire is once again able to strengthen his resolve concerning his consent to the double marriage, as he is still enormously attracted by Matilda ²⁵ .

The next miracle is more effective, because it is by far more `convincing'. As Frederic enters Hippolita's chamber "with a resolution to encourage her acquiescence to the divorce" (ibid., 102) from Manfred, he meets, instead of Hippolita, the skeleton of a deceased hermit which demands from Frederic - who full of horror and in manner that reminds one irrevocably of Hamlet cries out: "Angels of grace, protect me!" (ibid., 102) - not "to pursue carnal delights" and "to forget Matilda" (ibid., 102). This shocking experience together with the direct demand not to mix his blood with that of Manfred's race is finally able to change Frederic's mind; although, it says at first that he is still "in a conflict of penitence and passion" (ibid., 103), he finally turns out to be too much intimidated to give way to his feelings, and, consequently, retreats from the contract with Manfred. Now, of course, as Ingeborg Weber clearly points out, our villain hero sees his plans defeated and his pride hurt to the extreme. He is driven into a blind rage of vengeance and jealousy towards Theodore, because he is still absolutely convinced that Theodore and Isabella are in love with each other: Manfred, der seine Pläne vereitelt und seinen Stolz verletzt sieht, überläßt sich Gefühlen der Rache und der Eifersucht. Wenn es ihm nicht vergönnt ist, Isabella zu besitzen, so soll sie auch dem vermeintlichen Nebenbuhler Theodore nicht gehören. (Weber 1983, 13)

But, after all, Manfred's ambition and criminal energy is completely extinguished when he stabs to death his own daughter in Theodore's arms at the tomb of Alfonso in St. Nicholas's church, thinking it is Isabella: what Manfred always tried to protect and safe, namely (the continuance of) his own race, is finally extinguished by his own hand (ibid., 13). When Jerome now mentions "the completion of woe" that would at last be fulfilled on Manfred's

"impious and devoted head", and when he remarks that the "blood of Alfonso cried to heaven for vengeance" (Otranto, 105), this only expresses the fact that the murder of Alfonso, which once has been committed by Manfred's grandfather Ricardo, is finally expiated through the bloody sacrifice of the daughter of his grandson Manfred (Weber1983, 13). In the end, the heavenly order is - with a little coaxing in the form of supernatural interventions - reestablished, and the divine reason prevails again on earth.

At last, it takes one final miracle, the tenth one, to round the story off with regard to the `ancient prophecy': after all, the gigantic ghost of Alfonso, in the meantime grown to "an immense magnitude", appears in the centre of the ruins of Otranto after the walls of the castle, beforehand, have been "thrown down with a mighty force" (ibid., 108). After its proclamation, that Theodore is the true heir of Alfonso, it ascends "solemnly towards heaven, where the clouds parting asunder, the form of saint Nicholas" is seen, whereupon "the beholders" fall "prostrate on their faces, acknowledging the divine will" (ibid., 108). This final miracle - apart from the fact that it finishes, as it were, the `work' of the supernatural as the retribution is finally carried out - produces the effect that all open questions are answered gradually: Manfred gives a solution with regard to the meaning of the prophecy ²⁶ , and Jerome is now more or less forced to give some background information and, consequently, to explain why Theodore is the true heir of Otranto ²⁷ , before he finally ceases. Consequently, the final miracle leads to a solution of all unsolved claims of inheritance. Additionally, as Friederike Lichius mentions, it fulfils indirectly - through its consequences - the function to convince Frederic, who, just beforehand, has been full of doubts, of Theodore's rightful reign (Lichius 1978, 113). As far as Manfred is concerned, his only remaining ambition is to spend the rest of his life together with Hippolita in the convent - in atonement for his cruel and unreasonable behaviour that finally led to the catastrophe. 2.1. The Functions of the Supernatural in Vathek

In England, an interest in Oriental ²⁸ literature had been awakened early in the eighteenth

century, particularly by the epoch-making English version of The Arabian Nights (1704-1717) (Birkhead 1921, 94). Twenty-two years after the publication of Walpole's The Castle of Otranto, Beckford's Vathek - "the most famous Oriental tale in the English language" (Varma 1957, 52) - appeared, which "with its grotesque company of dwarfs, giants, genii, eunuchs, mutes, and afrits" marks "the apogee of Gothic Orientalism" (Franklin 1998, 170). It is referred to as `Gothic', because Beckford introduced the supernatural element into the Oriental tale, as Walpole had introduced it into the world of the novel in general, even though Beckford's scenario offers supernatural occurrences and apparitions of a - compared with The

Castle of Otranto - completely different sort ²⁹ . It is certainly true that "Otranto stets the scene

for the crazy phantasmagoria of Vathek" (Varma 1957, 42) with regard to the literary inclusion of the supernatural; strictly speaking, however, both novels are - regarding each their effect on the reader and disregarding the fact that they both can only be vaguely related to the powerful impact of the later Gothic novels by M.G. Lewis or Charles Maturinextremely different from each other, what, hopefully, will become clear in the course of this chapter. Like Walpole, whose fictional supernatural interventions rather appear as a `selfparody' of the supernatural element (Haggerty 1989, 16), Beckford is unclear to shock effectively, too (ibid., 15); not because his style is too much imbued with eighteenth-century prose or his apparitions `merely' intervene explicitly in the name of the divine will (as in The Castle of Otranto), but because of Beckford's sense of the ridiculous and his comic tone which is able to make fun of every potential `horrible' scene: [It] is not easy to see that Vathek sets out to exploit the imaginative terror, the suspense or psychological shock tactics which were entering the English novel at about this time (...). Potential melodrama and horror are almost invariably undermined and deflated by Beckford's detached, urbane, and often comic tone. (...) [For instance, when] Carathis and her companions visit a cemetery and its ghouls, the result is ludicrously grotesque comedy. 30

With Vathek, Beckford widened the literary spectrum of supernatural forces drastically, for his creatures range from virtuous angelic apparitions to horrifying satanic entities. But, whenever terror is about to arise in the reader, Beckford - intentionally or not - takes the wind out of his sails by making use of ridiculous exaggerations, irony and ornate hyperbole ³¹ . In this respect, Manfred Schuhmacher points out in his book Das Groteske und seine Gestaltung in der Gothic Novel, that it is exactly this sort of suspense which is characteristic for the modern comprehension of the grotesque; namely, the tension which originates from the fact that tragic and comic aspects counterbalance each other: Tragik und Komik halten sich die Waage und erzeugen jene Spannung, die dem Grotesken im modernen Verständnis wesentlich ist. (...) In keiner anderen Gothic Novel ist diese kontrastive Spannung so ausgeprägt wie in Vathek. Sie wird durch eben jene Ironie bewirkt, die den Roman durchzieht und dem Schrecken über den größten Teil der Handlung seine Spitze nimmt. (Schuhmacher 1990, 182)

For example, when Carathis pronounces "her barbarous incantations" by the lake, in order to "render oracular" the fishes - for, they shall tell her where Gulchenrouz is -, the frightening mystery of this scene is at once overtaken when the fishes call: "From gills to tail, we are yours; what seek ye to know" ³² . Or consider Carathis' serene exclamation "So beautiful a

cemetery must be haunted by Ghoules!" (Vathek, 230), which produces the effect that a potential gloomy atmosphere falls flat right from the start. Of course, this ironic sort of underhand humour which runs through the whole novel has nothing in common with the Shakespearean `comic relief' Walpole made use of; with their civil and light-hearted lark, the comic scenes in The Castle of Otranto are used to prevent the reader from being overcharged by the tragic aggravation and terror of the previous scenes (at least, Walpole thought he was capable of bringing forth such effects). Beckford, however, uses both aspects simultaneously and, additionally, each one in a more extreme manner as they were used in The Castle of Otranto; on the one hand, his humour is, by means of its ironic touch, by far more caustic and obscure, and on the other hand, his supernatural forces partly arise even from the `depths of hell'. As Manfred Schuhmacher already has remarked, it is particularly this contrastive tension that gives Vathek its pre-eminently grotesque character. In this respect, Edith Birkhead, claiming that it "is impossible to understand or appreciate Vathek apart from Beckford's life and character[ ³³ ], which contain elements almost as grotesque and fantastic as those of his

romance" (Birkhead 1921, 97), points out in her book The Tale of Terror that Beckford's predominant "whimsical, Puckish humour" just "helped to counteract the strain of gloomy bitterness in his nature" (ibid., 97). I think, this is in so far interesting, as Vathek appears in this respect like a literary disposal of Beckford's psychological state. Obviously, his cynicism and caustic humour enabled him to prevent all the gloomy bitterness in his soul from emerging in its full intensity, as it gets the better of all the cruelty and gloom in Vathek, and, consequently, it prevents the reader from being entirely terrified. If it is really terror that arises in the reader, it is one of a relatively light sort; the descriptions of the villain hero's atrocities and the representations of evil supernatural forces are too much imbued with ridiculous exaggerations and ironic humour.

Compared with The Castle of Otranto, it is in the case of Vathek not so easy to give an exact number of supernatural occurrences and to define their special functions within the plot. Indeed, as Edith Birkhead has mentioned so aptly, Vathek resembles a confusing dream, from which "we awake dazzled with the memory of a myriad wonders" (Birkhead 1957, 96). The scenes are densely arranged and of a remarkable variety. In contrast to The Castle of Otranto, in which the unity of place is - of course, only to a large extent - justified, Beckford's scenario

contains numerous expeditions and, consequently, a relatively great variety of exotic locations. From a literary point of view, adventurous journeys are, of course, very suitable for the inclusion of various settings and characters; the Caliph's journey enables Beckford to present a wider variety of supernatural creatures and occurrences. Vathek has not just a `dazzling' effect on the reader because of its variety of scenes, for, over and above that, Beckford's descriptions are remarkable for definite precision of outline, as Edith Birkhead points out as follows: "There are no vague hints and suggestions, no lurking shadows concealing untold horrors. (...) The imagery is so lucid that we are able to follow with effortless pleasure the intricate windings of a plot which at Beckford's whim twists and turns through scenes of wonderful variety" (ibid., 98).

In contrast to Manfred, the villain hero in The Castle of Otranto, the Caliph Vathek tries not to avoid the supernatural, but, quite the reserve, strives for a gain of supernatural experiences. As the son of the sorceress Carathis, who is able to consult the stars "relative to the fate of her son" (Vathek, 228), and who has ever been passionately attached to "infernal powers" (ibid., 177), the Caliph himself possesses a supernatural capability, which is explained right at the beginning of the story: it says that in a state of anger, one of his eyes becomes so terrible, that the wretch upon whom it is fixed falls backward, and sometimes even expires (ibid., 151). His thirst for knowledge crosses the border of the possible in a similar way, as it says that he wishes to know even the sciences that do not exist (ibid., 153). At once at the beginning, the reader becomes acquainted with Beckford's exaggeration into the ridiculous and the absurd. As Manfred Schuhmacher has pointed out, Beckford abuses - from my point of view, even in a satirical manner - in both cases traditional literary motifs: [Vathek`s] Auge, bei Manfred [z.B.] im herrischen Blick (...) zum Ausdruck gebracht, erfährt eine lächerliche Wendung ins Unmögliche, denn Vathek vermag mit bloßem Blick zu töten (...). Sein Wissensdrang erinnert an Marlowes Faust, Vathek jedoch will mehr wissen als dieser; er verlangt sogar nach "sciences that did not exist" (...). (Schuhmacher 1990, 179/180) Consequently, natural and ordinary matters are not able to arouse Vathek's interest. Striving for the impossible, his curiosity is exceedingly stimulated when the Giaour, a hideous creature whose body is "blacker than ebony" with "long amber-coloured teeth, bestreaked with green" (Vathek, 155), appears with its extraordinary merchandise: slippers which "by spontaneous springs" enable the feet to walk, "knives that cut without motion of the hand" and sabres that deal the blow at the person they are wished to strike (ibid., 155). Over and above that, the

Giaour is obviously immune against Vathek's `terrible eye' and has even remarkably supernatural strengths ³⁴ . When the characters on the magic sabre proclaim "Woe to the rash

mortal who seeks to know that of which he should remain ignorant; and to undertake that which surpasseth his power!" (ibid., 160), he tries to consult the stars in order to read there "something more congruous to his wishes" (ibid., 160), and when even this fails, his curiosity becomes so much overwhelming that he even falls ill ³⁵ . When the Giaour promises Vathek to

bring him to the Palace of Subterranean Fire - where he would find the treasures he longs for "in immense depositories" (ibid., 169) - on condition that fifty children shall be sacrificed, as the Giaour pretends to require their blood (ibid., 170), Vathek arranges this mass sacrifice willingly and pushes all the poor innocents into the gulph (ibid., 173), just to give later to the -understandably - shocked and outraged parents the following explanation: "Your children, while at play, fell from the precipice..." (ibid., 174). Similarities between Manfred, the villain hero in The Castle of Otranto, and the Caliph Vathek exist in so far, as both ruthlessly try to push through their aims at any price, although they are both driven by completely different motives. In contrast to Vathek, Manfred, even though he makes use of extremely raw methods, still clings to conservative ideals and values; `conservative' in the full sense of the word, because Manfred is ambitious to `preserve' the possession of Otranto and the succession of his race. Even the supernatural element fulfils a `conservative' function by means of the reestablishment of a once violated order. Although, the inclusion of the miraculous and the supernatural certainly was a relatively risky and uncommon undertaking - Walpole knew this, and, at first, concealed his authorship -, these elements are still dominated by `old' Neoclassical values. In the case of Vathek, the reader becomes acquainted with different motives and values. It is clear that the Caliph's curiosity, as well as his ruthless selfishness, is represented in an extremely exaggerated way, but this curiosity is characteristic of a gradually changing consciousness in England towards the end of the eighteenth century: just consider that individualism and the striving for the unknown, even for the impossible, are aspects which we today refer to as `Romantic', even though the term has come to mean so many things that, by itself, it means nothing at all (Penguin, 813) ³⁶ . Over and above that, I think, by

making use of the device of a kind of exaggeration that constantly topples into the ridiculous, Beckford rather makes fun of his own inner desires and inclinations - maybe, in order to cope with them - than of the new tendencies coming up in his time. Vathek's and Carathis' tower "abounds in materials for the advancement of science" (Vathek, 183), and Carathis declares that "there is nothing so pleasing as retiring to caverns" and that her "taste for dead bodies, and every thing like mummy, is decided" (ibid., 186/87); the mode of presentation, of course,

contributes to the reader's amusement, but, nevertheless, the tendencies are obvious: compared with The Castle of Otranto, where the supernatural, on the one hand, intervenes in service of heaven and so renders assistance towards a preservation of 'reasonable' values, and, on the other hand, is to a large extent feared and held in awe by the characters, the supernatural element in Vathek functions as "an irresistible impulse" (ibid., 211). The appearance of the "strange light" on "the top of the highest mountain" (ibid., 210), and the characters' reaction towards this inexplicable phenomenon, is in this respect exemplary, as I think:

The phenomenon occasioned a general surprize, and no one could conjecture the cause. It could not be a fire, for the light was clear and bluish (...). The moment it had taken its direction, Gulchenrouz, whose heart always trembled at any thing sudden or rare, drew Nouronihar by the robe and anxiously requested her to return to the harem (...)[, but] the curiosity of the emir's daughter prevailed. She not only refused to go back, but resolved at all hazards, to pursue the appearance. (ibid., 210)

A few lines further, we learn that Nouronihar, urged on by this irresistible impulse, continues to approach it, even "in defiance of every obstacle" (ibid., 211) that opposes her progress. Inexplicable phenomena have a remarkable impact on most of the characters in this novel: Vathek entrusts himself to the Giaour's leadership and causes the death of fifty children in order to reach Istakhar, "the region of wonders", where the Giaour promises him to "be solaced with all kinds of delight" (ibid., 181); and Carathis, who has ever been "passionately attached" to "the infernal powers" (ibid., 177) anyway, solemnly sets Samarah on fire and performs an abominable "ceremony of strangling" (ibid., 180), because she is convinced that "a sacrifice to the subterranean Genii" (ibid., 176) is required in order to improve the conditions of her son ³⁷ . Vathek is already concerned with the fascination of the mysterious, the obscure and the unknown: phenomena which cannot be explained are no longer feared and, consequently, intentionally avoided, but, quite the reserve, striven for in order to explore their innermost cause. Over and above that, the `curious' characters in Vathek are willing to do anything to achieve their ends; their curiosity increases in the same extent, in which their morality becomes dissolute. However, in the end, when their hearts take fire forever, they receive their punishment for all the insatiable curiosity and ruthless atrocities in Eblis' Palace of Subterranean Fire, whereas the innocent, naiv and somewhat cowardly Gulchenrouz -

under the shelter of the nest of the venerable Genius, remote from "the inquietudes of the world, the impertinence of harems, the brutality of eunuchs, and the inconstancy of women" (ibid., 235) - is able to pass "whole ages in undisturbed tranquillity, and in the pure happiness of childhood" (ibid., 255).

Indeed, the few virtuous supernatural apparitions in Vathek, the so-called "beneficent Genii" (ibid., 240), serve as a moral counterbalance, which functions in the case of the nest of the "good old Genius" (ibid., 234) as a heavenly shelter ³⁸ for the innocent from the atrocities and "inquietudes of the world" (ibid., 235), and in the case of the Genius who assumes "the exterior of a shepherd" (ibid., 240) as a warning which is aimed at Vathek's and Nouronihar's previous behaviour and future intentions:

[The Genius] began to pour forth from his flute such airs of pathetic melody, as subdued the very soul, and, wakening remorse, drove far from it every frivolous fancy. At these energetic sounds (...) the waters of two little lakes, that were naturally clearer than crystal, became of a colour like blood. (...) With downcast eyes, they all stood abashed; each upbraiding himself with the evil he had done. (ibid., 240)

During this incident, Nouronihar again feels sympathy for her "amiable Gulchenrouz", and even Vathek's got hold of the idea that he can hear "the sobs of the fifty children he had sacrificed to the Giaour" (ibid., 241): both their devotional respect towards such a supernatural performance is quite obvious. The Genius then tries to convert the Caliph to abandon his "atrocious purpose", declaring: "This moment is the last of grace allowed to thee..." ³⁹ (ibid., 241). I think, the following passage has striking similarities with some

passages in The Castle of Otranto, when Manfred's temporarily arising fear of the supernatural powers which haunt him, and his devotion towards the will of heaven are again overshadowed by his ambition and stubborn pride - even though, Manfred's motives are, as already has been pointed out, of a completely different sort: Vathek, depressed with fear, was on the point of prostrating himself at the feet of the shepherd, whom he perceived to be of a nature superior to man: but, his pride prevailing, he audaciously lifted his head, and, glancing at him one of his terrible looks, said, `Whoever thou art, withhold thy useless admonitions: (...) I have traversed a sea of blood to acquire a power which will make thy equals tremble..." (ibid., 241/42)

So, the Caliph refuses the offer and sticks to his `evil' nature; to say nothing of Carathis who later in Eblis' palace even tries "to dethrone one of the Solimans, for the purpose of usurping his place", short before a voice proclaims "All is accomplished!" (ibid., 253) and their hearts begin to burn forever.

I would like to add a few words concerning the included `moral' at the end of the story. I think, it is remarkable that Beckford's `moral' ⁴⁰ - that restless ambition and curiosity shall be punished, whereas childlike innocence and `purity' shall be rewarded by "undisturbed tranquillity" (ibid., 255) - was gratefully accepted at face value by most of the reviewers after the publication of Vathek (Lonsdale, xx). Only one writer criticised that Beckford presents indolence and childishness as "the source of happiness", while "ambition and the desire of knowledge" are punished as crimes (ibid., xxi). Anyhow, from my point of view, it is extremely difficult to take the moral seriously at all. It rather appears hollow and cynical against the background of Beckford's sense for the ridiculous, his general tendency towards irony, and, of course, his own ludicrous self-indulgence and luxuriant inclinations as one who "was born with a silver sugar-spoon in his mouth" (Franklin 1998, 20). If we consider the fact that Beckford himself explicitly related Vathek to the events and setting at the old Fonthill House - especially the great `Egyptian Hall' - at Christmas 1781, and that - as he later was prepared to admit - real persons were portrayed in his story (Lonsdale, xxix), we couldn't help thinking that Beckford, especially at the age of twenty-two, was still "basically too irresponsible to write a convincing myth of the doomed future of irresponsibility" (ibid., xxix). I absolutely agree with the idea that the official moral framework in Vathek is "in practice constantly subverted by the conduct of the tale", for Beckford seems to enjoy "Vathek's constant excesses and crimes against the pious and sacred" (ibid., xxviii); the relevant scenes are just described with too much eagerness and passionate dedication, as I think. When the Caliph is punished in the end, even this punishment appears to me so ludicrously exaggerated that it is hard to accept it as justified, or that it could make the reader think: "Yes, he doesn't deserve anything else!". Making use of old-fashioned religious conventions, Beckford plays with the ideas of `eternal suffering' (as a consequence of an amoral and unrestrained life) and `eternal peace' (as a consequence of a virtuous and devotional life) in order to make a mockery of such a dubiously plain subdivision. And by the way: Is not the expression `hearts on fire' usually connected with completely different associations?

3. Final Observations

Roughly speaking, the functions of the supernatural in both early Gothic Novels differ in so far from each other, as in The Castle of Otranto it intervenes explicitly in service of the divine will and, accordingly, carries out a merely ordering function, whereas in Vathek, besides the fact that its apparitions range relatively widely from `beneficent Genii' to more horrifying creatures as the Giaour, it has a rather tempting effect on the characters. In The Castle of Otranto, the supernatural phenomena and apparitions are - at least to a large extent - feared, held in awe, and so intentionally avoided, whereas the main characters in Vathek (except Gulchenrouz, of course) are "aiming at discoveries reserved for beings of a supernatural order" (Vathek, 254), and, consequently, are striving for a gain of supernatural experiences: inexplicable phenomena function as an "irresistible impulse" (ibid., 211); supernatural occurrences tend to arouse "blind curiosity" and "restless ambition" (ibid., 254) which both lead to ruthless cruelty and abominable atrocities. Manfred's ambition is similarly restless, but it has still completely different motives. In contrast to the self-indulgent Caliph Vathek, whose "tower abounds in materials for the advancement of science" (ibid., 183), and whose mother, Carathis, is even capable of `black magic', Manfred simply strives for the preservation of his possession, and for the continuance of his race. Still embodying `conservative' Neoclassical values, the villain hero in The Castle of Otranto just tries to preserve his own order, which collides with a `higher' order of an explicitly divine origin when he tries to circumvent his fate. This collision of human and supernatural interests in a novel was certainly a new phenomenon in England in the second half of the eighteenth century: from the determinate world of limited possibilities in the age of reason, Walpole seemed to yearn for a world of indeterminacy and free association (Haggerty 1989, 16). But, to regard it critically, the supernatural forces merely intervene to achieve that a disarranged order is re-established in the end, and, consequently, the motives of the supernatural are not so remote from those of Manfred himself: it is certainly true that both interests are in conflict with each other, but the supernatural in The Castle of Otranto still pursues explicitly `enlightened' intentions, namely the preservation of reason and moral, whereas Vathek already reveals first signs of pre-eminently demonic forces - even though, in a somewhat parodistic manner. The theme of a fear of heavenly powers that threaten to intervene in order to settle chaotic conditions on earth still can be found in Vathek - as I tried to point out (the shepherd scene) -, but in The Castle of Otranto this theme runs through the whole novel; from "the miracle of the helmet" (Otranto, 17) till Alfonso's ascension to heaven, when "the beholders" fall "prostrate on their faces, acknowledging the divine will" (ibid., 108). That fiction was

explicitly focused on reason and common sense in the first three-quarters of the eighteenth century (Varma 1957, 62), can, of course, still be felt distinctly; but, that The Castle of Otranto, even though it brought the ordinary world in touch with the mysterious, was received so enthusiastically is certainly indicative of a literary taste which was on the verge of changing, for from "a stress on photographic representation of life", there was from now onwards "a longing for imagination, mystery and gloom" that finally culminated in the birth of a new epoch: from now on, "fiction would gradually tend to favour the romantic rather the realistic type" (ibid., 62). In this respect, Ingeborg Weber speaks of an "anti-enlightening impulse" which already prevails in the pre-romantic era of the early Gothic Novels (Weber 1983, 16), but, of course, literary periods do not just start and stop, as the evolution is gradual: Bis einschließlich Ann Radcliffe nimmt der englische Schauerroman eine Zwitterstellung zwischen Aufklärung und Romantik ein. Romantische Sensibilität paart sich mit einem aufgeklärten Vertrauen in die benevolentia einer quasi göttlichen Weltvernunft. Erst (...) Lewis vollzieht in The Monk den endgültigen Bruch mit der Aufklärung, indem er dem anarchischen menschlichen Seelenleben ein ebenso anarchisches Bild der Wirklichkeit korreliert. Davon sind wir (...) bei Horace Walpole noch weit entfernt. (ibid., 16)

In the first English Gothic Novel, the `demonization', as Ingeborg Weber puts it, has not yet taken place, and the imagination is not yet `romantically free', whereas the Caliph Vathek is already in league with demonic powers (ibid., 18), even though the potential terrifying impact of the relevant scenes is still constantly diminished by Beckford's ironic tone. In this respect, Vathek's special position within the series of English Gothic Novels is marvellously expressed by Manfred Schuhmacher:

Noch kann das spätklassizistische Bewußtsein über den Spielcharakter von Vathek, d.h. über ironische Umbiegung übernatürlich-erhabenen Schreckens ins harmlos-komische Amüsement, zur Ruhe kommen. Das vorgestellte andere zeichnet jedoch schon eine tiefere, gefährlichere Erlebnismöglichkeit vor. (Schuhmacher 1990, 183)

Bibliography

Beckford, William. Vathek. In: Fairclough, Peter (ed.). Three Gothic Novels. Oxford University Press, 1986

Birkhead, Edith. The Tale of Terror. New York, 1921

Bloom, Clive. "The Supernatural". In: Mulvey-Roberts, Marie (ed.), 1998, pp. 232-234 Franklin, Michael. "Beckford, William". In: Mulvey-Roberts, Marie (ed.), 1998, pp. 20-23 Franklin, Michael. "Orientalism". In: Mulvey-Roberts, Marie (ed.), 1998, pp. 168-171 Haggerty, George E.. Gothic Fiction/ Gothic Form. The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1989

Lewis, W.S. (ed.). Introduction to The Castle of Otranto. Oxford University Press, 1964 Lichius, Friederike. Schauerroman und Deismus. Frankfurt am Main, 1978 Lonsdale, Roger (ed.). Introduction to Vathek. Oxford University Press, 1970 MacAndrew, Elizabeth. The Gothic Tradition in Fiction. New York, 1979 Mulvey-Roberts, Marie (ed.). The Handbook to Gothic Literature. Senior Lecturer in Literary Studies, University of the West of England, Bristol: MacMillan Press Ltd. Punter, David. "Terror". In: Mulvey-Roberts, Marie (ed.), 1998, pp. 235-240 Sage, Victor. "Gothic Novel". In: Mulvey-Roberts, Marie (ed.), 1998, pp. 81-89 Schuhmacher, Manfred. Das Groteske und seine Gestaltung in der Gothic Novel. Frankfurt am Main, 1990

Varma, Devendra P.. The Gothic Flame. New York, 1957 Walpole, Horace. The Castle of Otranto. Oxford University Press, 1964 Weber, Ingeborg. Der englische Schauerroman. München, 1983

1 Actually, the "word derives from Italian grotte `caves' (...)." At first, the "term came to be applied to paintings which depicted the intermingling of human, animal and vegetable themes and forms", like some of the works of Raphael and Arcimboldo. However, the term "does not seem to have been used regularly in a literary context until the 18 ^th c., the period of the age of reason and Neoclassicism (...), when it was commonly employed to denote the ridiculous, bizarre, extravagant, freakish and unnatural; in short, aberrations from the desirable norms of harmony, balance and proportion." (Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory 1991, p. 393)

2 "Speak, infernal spectre!" (Horace Walpole, The Castle of Otranto, Oxford University Press 1964, p. 24. Quotes from this book will from now on be referred to as Otranto, .)

3 "Shall we not, can we but dedicate the few deplorable hours we have to live, in deprecating the farther wrath of heaven?" (Otranto, 108) 4 Otranto, Title-page of the First Edition

5 Introduction to The Castle of Otranto by W.S. Lewis. In: Horace Walpole, The Castle of Otranto, Oxford University Press, 1964, viii. Quotes from this passage will from now on be referred to as Lewis, .

6 The roots of Gothic fiction "established `terror' as a term which could look outward as well as inward; perhaps the emblem of horror, on the other hand, is the claustrophobic fiction of POE, where the individual is alone with the insupportable. (...) Horror, we might say, induces, or capitalises upon, impotence; from terror we can gain a certain sense of ourselves, and return to the world no doubt sadder but also potentially wiser." (Punter 1998, 235) 7 Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary 8 see Otranto, Preface to the Second Edition, 9-12

9 Penguin Dictionary of Literary Terms and Literary Theory 1991, p. 171. Quotes from this book will from now on be referred to as Penguin, .

10 Four miracles occur in chapter one; two minor ones each in chapters two and three; drops of blood fall from the nose of Alfonso's statue in chapter four; the final three supernatural occurrences take place in the last chapter.

11 Consider descriptions of Conrad like "a homely youth, sickly, and of no promising disposition" (Otranto, 15) in contrast to descriptions of the helmet like "an hundred times more large than any casque ever made for human being" (ibid., 17). 12 See Otranto, 23; Manfred tells Isabella: "Hippolita is no longer my wife; I divorce her from this hour. Too long has she cursed me by her unfruitfulness: my fate depends on having sons..."

13 "Isabella, whose back was turned to the picture, saw not the motion, nor knew whence the sound came, but started and said, Hark my lord! What sound was that? And at the same time made towards the door." (Otranto, 23/24)

14 In this respect, Manfred can be regarded as the prototype of a `Machiavel', "a character type deriving his name from Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527) (...) who became famous for Il Principe (written in 1513), a treatise on statecraft which justifies the use of various expediencies (including cruelty, lies and treachery) on the ruling of a state" (Penguin, 520). Usually, the "sinister, resourceful and unscrupulous villain - usually an Italian (...) - in revenge tragedy of the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods came to be regarded as a Machiavel" (ibid., 520). - Even in this respect, The Castle of Otranto is enormously close to Elizabethan tragedy. Manfred doesn't even have the idea that his acts and intentions could be morally deficient, or not in accordance with the heavenly will. Consequently, he considers "the devils themselves" to be "in league" against him (Otranto, 24). Manfred's `tragic flaw'"traditionally that defect in a tragic hero or heroine which leads to their downfall" (Penguin, 991) - is that he thinks he has no other choice to use what means ever to achieve his aims. According to the concept of a `Machiavellian hero', Manfred thinks it is his main task to use practical devices for keeping up his power - at any price.

15 Even Matilda recognises after the window-scene, when Theodore wants to find out if Isabella "is missing from the castle" (Otranto, 42) to learn if she is still safe from Manfred, that Theodore's "words were tinctured with an uncommon infusion of piety", that "his phrases were becoming a man of gentle birth" (ibid., 44).

16 "No, replied the good man with an air of firmness and authority that daunted even the resolute Manfred, who could not help revering the saint-like virtues of Jerome..." (Otranto, 45)

17 I think, this is an indication to the fact that a `real' marriage between Manfred and Isabella is nearly impossible, and that, consequently, Manfred's freedom of action is relatively reduced; his "impatience for a son" (Otranto, 49) from Isabella could only culminate in a rape.

18 "Who is the youth that we found in the vault? He must have been privy to Isabella's flight: tell me truly; is he her lover?" (Otranto, 53)

19 ,,...what mean these portends? If I have offended - [the plumes were shaken with greater violence than before] Unhappy prince that I am!" (Otranto, 59) 20 ,,I acknowledge I have been too hasty, said Manfred." (Otranto, 57) 21 Unfortunately, only until he is called "usurper of Otranto" by Frederic's herald: "The first sounds struck Manfred with terror; but when he heard himself styled usurper, his rage rekindled, and all his courage revived." (Otranto, 57/58)

22 "Frederic, however incensed against Manfred, was not insensible to the courtesy and benevolence of Hippolita; but he was still more struck with the lovely form of Matilda." (Otranto, 77)

23 Without counting in the gigantic sword which remained immovable. 24 "Thou ravest, said Manfred in a rage: Begone, and keep these fooleries to frighten thy companions." (Otranto, 98)

25 "The portents that had alarmed him were forgotten in his desires." (Otranto, 102) 26 Manfred declares that Ricardo after his bloody deed was "haunted by his guilt", and so "he vowed to saint Nicholas to found a church and two convents if he lived to reach Otranto" (Otranto, 109). Finally, the saint himself appeared to him, and "promised that Ricardo's prosperity should reign in Otranto until the rightful owner should be grown too large to inhabit the castle." (ibid., 109)

27 The friar relates the story - and no one casts doubt on its authenticity, because of a certain "authentic writing" (Otranto, 110) - that Alfonso once "was wind-bound in Sicily", where he left pregnant a girl named Victoria who "during his absence (...) was delivered a daughter" (ibid., 110). After all, Jerome married Victoria's daughter, and the offspring of this marriage is Theodore.

28 Michael Franklin describes the cause of this trend towards `Orientalism' at the beginning of the eighteenth century in England as follows: "The East had always connoted expensive consumer items from silks, spices, and sandalwood to porcelain, coffee, and tea; European familiarity with these colours, textures, and scents was complicit in the voyeuristic invasion of the fragrant and forbidden space of the serail, where conspicuous consumption entailed appealingly abominable debauchery." (Franklin 1998, 168)

29 It is quite clear that Beckford was influenced by the Oriental tale as well as by Gothic trends. I think, it is remarkable in this context that Devendra P. Varma claims that even Walpole got his inspiration partly from Eastern tales: "Walpole raised the apparition of Alfonso to gigantic proportions. In this particular device Walpole seems to have imitated Eastern tales, in which enormous size not only suggests embodiment of power, but also strikes and evokes a feeling of terror." (Varma 1957, 51)

30 Introduction to Vathek by Roger Lonsdale (ed.). In: William Beckford, Vathek, Oxford University Press 1970, xxv/xxvi. Quotes from this passage will from now on be referred to as Lonsdale, .

31 "(Gk `overcasting') A figure of speech which contains an exaggeration for emphasis" (Penguin, 436). According to Vathek, Manfred Schuhmacher speaks of a certain `hyperbolic exaggeration of usual things', like the mentioning of "troops of young females" (Vathek, 152) and "a thousand blasphemies" (ibid., 191), or the scene when it is mentioned that the Caliph devours of three hundred dished which are served up `only' thirty-two (ibid., 156) (Schuhmacher 1990, 179).

32 William Beckford, Vathek. In: Three Gothic Novels, Penguin Classics 1986, p. 228. Quotes from this book will from now on be referred to as Vathek, . 33 Edith Birkhead saw a strong connection between the fictional character of the Caliph Vathek, the villain hero of the story, and the character of Beckford himself: "[Beckford]

craved too for solid treasures he could touch and handle, for precious jewels, for rare, beautiful volumes, for curious, costly furniture. (...) Beckford's schemes in later life - his purchase of Gibbons's entire library, his twice-built tower on Lansdown Hill, were as grandiose and ambitious as those of an Eastern caliph." (Birkhead 1921, 97) 34 When Vathek asks the Giaour "where he obtained such beautiful commodities" it answers with hideous laughter, whereupon "one of the Caliph's angry and perilous glances" is thrown at the creature, which sustains it "without the slightest emotions" (Vathek, 155/56). Later, Vathek finds the prison where it has been committed to "empty, the grates burst asunder, and his guards lying lifeless around him" (ibid., 156).

35 The Caliph suffers from an `insatiable thirst' which once more marvellously underlines Beckford's exaggeration into the ridiculous. Besides, "all the books of magic that might point out a remedy" (Vathek, 161) are explored, but, finally, it is the Giaour itself that administers the right medicine to Vathek (ibid., 162/63).

36 "[`Romantic'] is perhaps the most remarkable example of a term which can mean many things according to personal and individual needs." (Penguin, 813) Here a selection of its possible meanings: `emotional', `irrational', `mysterious', `stupid', `wild', `fanciful', `passionate', `extraordinary' and `adventurous' (ibid., 813).

37 Of course, Carathis herself is interested in such matters: "I myself have a great desire to watch over thy conduct, and visit the subterranean palace, which, no doubt, contains whatever can interest persons like us." (Vathek, 186)

38 These inviolable asylums were defended against the dives and the afrits by waving streamers; on which were inscribed in characters of gold, that flashed like lightening, the names of Alla and the Prophet. (Vathek, 235)

39 "...return: give back Nouronihar to her father, who still retains a few sparks of life: destroy thy tower with all its abominations: drive Carathis from thy council: be just to thy subjects: respect the ministers of the Prophet: compensate for thy impieties by an exemplary life; and, instead of squandering thy days in voluptuous indulgence, lament thy crimes on the sepulchres of thy ancestors." (Vathek, 241)

40  "Such was, and should be, the punishment of unrestrained passions and atrocious deeds  

Such  shall be the chastisement of that blind curiosity, which would transgress those bounds  

the  wisdom of the Creator has prescribed to human knowledge " (Vathek, 254)