A long time ago, I read this book called The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole. It was published in 1764. The Goodreads blurb reads in part thusly:
First published pseudonymously in 1764, The Castle of Otranto purported to be a translation of an Italian story of the time of the crusades. In it Walpole attempted, as he declared in the Preface to the Second Edition, "to blend the two kinds of romance: the ancient and the modern." Crammed with invention, entertainment, terror, and pathos, the novel was an immediate success and Walpole's own favorite among his numerous works.
It is in this Alz's humble opinion that the blurb is giving the book too much credit. It is legit ridic and, according to the prof who taught it, it is supposed to be. I mean, the author himself built a gigantic Gothic-style castle complete with towers and battlements and with "gloomth" as a consideration for the decor, and then named his badass creation Strawberry Hill. Just 'cause he could. You can read the Wikipedia page if you're curious.
Basically, Horace Walpole did what he wanted and enjoyed doing it, and although it has been some years since I read The Castle of Otranto, I can tell you straight up that the book is full of more melodrama, lost heirs, curses, and inexplicable pieces of gigantic falling armor than you could shake a stick at.
Don't believe me? Here's a comic I drew from when I first read the book in order to explain to people just how amazingly lulzy this book is:
Pretty sure that last bit about the fatal helmet's plumes is a direct quote, or nearly.
Honestly, I can't even remember 75% of what happens in the book because it was so random. Who knew that 18th century literature could be so hilarious?
Q4U: What's the oldest and/or most ridiculous thing you've ever read?
Happy Friday! Have a rollicking, frolicking weekend and remember--May the Fourth be with you!
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