M.G. Mason’s New Novella 'Angel's Mass' Proudly Upholds Gothic Literary Traditions

Often unfairly maligned as overwrought, melodramatic, and campy, what we now refer to as Gothic literature began in 1764 with the publication of Horace Walpole’s seminal novel, The Castle of Otranto. Wildly popular with 18th-century audiences, the book created many of the conventions still associated with the subgenre today: distressed damsels beset by supernatural evils amid the oh-so-scary backdrop of ruined castles, ancient monasteries, and/or creepy catacombs. Gothic literature flourished in its original form, popularized by authors like Ann Radcliffe, Mary Shelley, and Edgar Allan Poe, and continues to fascinate the public today through the works of mainstream names like Anne Rice and the independent efforts of such niche proprietors as Quill & Crow Publishing House.

Swindon, UK-born author M.G. Mason, known best for his spectral cozy mystery series Salmonweird, is one modern aficionado of Gothic literary traditions. Citing classic ghost-story conjurer M.R. James as his primary influence, Mason has shown previous affection for Gothic trappings in his single-author collection Spooky Salmonweird, and does so again in his latest effort, the short novella Angel’s Mass.

Set in the mid-14th century and subtitled A Medieval Ghost Story, the storyline focuses on Edmund, a Cistercian monk living at the remote Welsh monastery Tintern Abbey. Edmund has been plagued from youth by periodically recurring nightmares of a dark wave consuming Europe; waking from one such nocturnal episode a few days before Angel’s Night (Christmas), Edmund is subsequently tormented by visions of a phantom stranger calling his name. At first fearing he’s suffering some sort of demonic attack, he confesses to the monastery’s abbot, Henry, the nature of his problem, but both Henry and Eric, one of Edmund’s fellow monks, believe Edmund is simply going mad. When the unearthly visitations persist, Edmund comes to think a genuine spirit has singled him out, but is it a specter, a loss of sanity, or does a more flesh-and-blood threat stalk Tintern Abbey’s sacred halls?

Angel’s Mass functions on multiple levels, by turns historical fiction, ghost story, and whodunit. Unlike his humorous Salmonweird outings, Mason adopts a suitably stark, solemn approach that pairs perfectly with the novella’s chilly atmosphere. All the Gothic lit hallmarks are present: isolated locale, cold wintry setting, looming madness, red herrings, and just the perfect dash of paranormal intrigue. A trained archaeologist, Mason is clearly in his native element here, and with its wealth of researched detail and brooding ambiance, Tintern Abbey comes alive in a way reminiscent of Umberto Eco’s medieval mystery novel The Name of the Rose.

With notes just as fascinating as the novella itself, Mason gives additional depth to the insular monastic world Edmund inhabits. Though one could argue utilizing The Black Death as a narrative hinge is wearisome in the post-Coronavirus era, doing so actually provides a solid sense of social relevancy. After all, speculative warnings about a possible global pandemic existed for decades prior to Covid, both in fictional form and from numerous medical and scientific authorities. Edmund’s dark visions of a Bubonic scourge and the apocalyptic upheaval it eventually wrought rings true in our own time as much, if not more so, as during the Middle Ages.

At only 70 pages, Angel’s Mass is capable of being finished in a single devoted sitting and offers the perfect escapism for a rainy afternoon. With haunted characters and a foreboding aura, Mason’s novella proudly upholds the Gothic standards upon which it’s indebted, and for that reason I bestow it a 4 (out of 5) on my Fang Scale. Horace Walpole would love this.