Corsets, Curses, and Colonialism: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly of Victorian Horror, By Pauline Chow

Unnerving plot lines crawl out from the Victorian era. It’s the fog rolling over cobblestone streets, a glow of candlelight along a dark hallway, and breath squeezed beneath tight corsets. The curse of living in a time full of delicate handmade gowns is the imminence of death.

Antibiotics did not exist and a penned letter (instead of a text) can mark your untimely passing but not save you from your fate. As a reader and writer, in 2025, I gravitate towards stories set between the 1840s and 1920s, a period roughly corresponding to the reign of the British Queen Victoria. It’s the aesthetics, and the relatable tensions of desire and social constructs. Monsters that are born of shame and secrets transcend time. 

Victorian period pieces carry baggage. For every brilliantly terrifying romp in an isolated country home, there is a trope or idea that doesn’t age well. I wrote Chasing Moonflowers, a gothic tale taking place in 1925 Hong Kong, to counter my pet-peeves in this sub genre. Below are my takes on the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of Victorian horror with recommendations for recent books and movies that release the genre from the ugly. 

The Good: Why I Keep Wanting More

Victorian horror is rich in mood and metaphor. Give me a crumbling estate, an inheritance to a  distant cousin twice-removed, and a shadowy figure that might be the figment of my imagination, and I’m in. What makes this subgenre relatable is how it uses the past to explore what still haunts us today.

Books like Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia pull the Gothic tradition into postcolonial terrain, with haunted houses and horrifying family secrets steeped in race and class status. The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling blends gaslamp-era medicine, convenient marriage, and madness in an eldritch horror. T. Kingfisher’s What Moves the Dead takes Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher and reimagines it with fungal horror, body grotesquery, and comical animal movements. 

These stories revel in the slow burn, whispering inside the walls and slowly poisoning the guests. Fear is layered with repression through sexual, emotional, and societal rules. These stories force characters to confront supernatural horrors, and the terrifying power of their own silence.

The Bad: Tropes I Tolerate (Grudgingly)

Victorian horror has a habit of leaning on common devices: a slower pace, angsty interiority, clues from written correspondences, and women who faint at the sight of blood.

While I appreciate the atmosphere, some novels lose momentum in their world-building. For example, The Essex Serpent and Crimson Peak adopt a meandering pace as a way to amp up the threat of the surroundings. Also, I love the challenge of reading letters and journals, but not every character needs to record their mundane observations in a leather-bound tome.

Then, there is the issue of perspective. Historical horror centers the same voices: upper class, white, usually males. Marginalized characters are represented as mystical props or corpses. Queer characters, if they appear at all, are doomed. BIPOC characters are exoticized or sacrificed. However, this genre is offering more options. Plain Bad Heroines, Emily M. Danforth or The Hacienda by Isabel Cañas, and Dead Dead Girls by Nekesa Afia inject queer, feminist, and cultural nuance into the old bones of Gothic horror and mystery. 

The Ugly: Let’s Leave This in the Coffin, Please

What is my biggest gripe with Victorian horror? The way it leans on colonialism as set dressing or “exotic” horror. Cursed artifacts from “the Orient,” vengeful spirits from “savage lands,” or any variation on the “mystical native” trope make me roll my eyes. This was the reason I set Chasing Moonflowers in colonial Hong Kong, a center of trade between the West and the East. I wanted to confront that legacy of colonialism by exploring the contradictions of status, loyalty, and survival experienced by a young woman living between worlds. Horror rooted in the empire should reckon with the monstrosities it birthed, not aestheticize them.

It’s not enough to slap a foreign setting onto a haunted house story and call it fresh. The best historical horror interrogates the horrors of colonialism, rather than exploiting them. The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle retells a problematic Lovecraftian tale, flipping the original themes and highlighting systemic oppression of racism and police brutality. Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys is a postcolonial prequel to Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre, telling the story of Bertha Mason, the “madwoman in the attic,” from her perspective. The story explores the trauma of colonialism, racial identity, and cultural erasure, reframing Bertha as a Creole heiress.  

Also on the chopping block: asylum horror with zero nuance on mental health. Victorian institutions were terrifying, but mental illness isn’t shorthand for evil or danger. The “madness” of women is often a product of gaslighting. 

Why I Still Love the genre

Despite its faults, I return to historical horror, because I love the arcs of the characters, awakening to the horrors in their lives. I enjoy facing ghouls and goblins without the certainty of technology. Dressing issues in velvet and heavy wood paneling makes them more endurable. Craving Victorian stories, I also demand the integration of more modern ideals of equity and representation. Give me queer necromancers, haunted mansions where the wronged fight back, gaslight-era ghost hunters of color for me to binge. 

In Chasing Moonflowers, I also flip the script. The so-called savages are scholars and seers, the natural world provides cures, and the true monsters are those who exploit blood and labor beneath the guise of civility. Colonial Hong Kong is a time where pressure arises between empire and resistance forces.

This story follows Ling Shaw, a young herbalist navigating the liminal spaces between tradition and modernity, East and West, myth and science. As she uncovers occult conspiracies and ancestral secrets, Ling must reclaim the wisdom of the ancients to survive. Her power is born from violence, communion with nature, spirits, and memory. I wrote Chasing Moonflowers to disturb, to delight, and to ask Victorian horror to look into its own cursed mirror and reckon with its reflection.

Chasing Moonflowers: A Gothic Historical Fantasy by Pauline Chow 

A gothic historical fantasy perfect for fans of These Violent Delights, House of Hollow, and Enola Holmes, Chasing Moonflowers is a coming-of-power tale that asks: What truly makes a monster?

In 1925 colonial Hong Kong, young herbalist Ling Shaw witnesses a murder committed by a bloodthirsty creature. When her uncle is wrongfully arrested for the crime, she is the only one who can clear her family’s name and find the real killer.

Ling joins forces with her private academy friend and a reckless Red Society thug from the Kowloon Walled City. The search for answers stirs personal feelings she can’t quite name yet.

Together, they uncover dark family secrets, occult rituals, and a vampire’s curse. But as they dig deeper, they realize the murder is only part of a sinister plot to bring down the Canton Labor Strikes. As ancient horrors awaken and revolution brews, Ling must decide who she really is, what she truly wants, and everything she holds dear.

***
“A riveting novel that keeps readers looking over their shoulders while unwilling to put it down.” ~ Readers’ Favorite

“An exceptional read that will transport readers into 1920’s Hong Kong and a world of vampires and magic.” ~ Jordan, Goodreads

“This book set the bar high for historical fantasy! I loved the mystery, the family secrets, and the powerful journey of Ling. I’d absolutely read it again.” ~ Clancy, Netgalley

Pauline Chow

Pauline Chow is a writer, coach, and ancestral magic practitioner, crafting alternative histories and optimistic futures. She is a Pushcart Prize nominated author with words in Cosmic Monthly Horror, Space and Time Magazine, Apocalypse Confidential, and more. Not your average data scientist, she once sued slumlords and advocated for affordable housing in Southern California. Now, Pauline Chow lives in the woods and is planning her next trip to a historical (hopefully haunted) hotel. CHASING MOONFLOWERS, a gothic historical fantasy about a young herbalist uncovering occult secrets in 1925 Hong Kong, comes out in July 2025. Connect with Pauline Chow on https://paulinechowstories.com/ and @paulinechow.bsky.social

LINKS:

Author website: https://paulinechowstories.com/

Author on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0D57L52YL/about

Chasing Moonflowers Universal Link: https://books2read.com/b/ChasingMoonflowers

Author on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/47894231.Pauline_Chow

Further Reading

If you’re a fan of spine-chilling tales and hair-raising suspense, then you won’t want to miss the horror features page on The Ginger Nuts of Horror Review Website. This is the ultimate destination for horror enthusiasts seeking in-depth analysis, thrilling reviews, and exclusive interviews with some of the best minds in the genre. From independent films to mainstream blockbusters, the site covers a broad spectrum of horror media, ensuring that you’re always in the loop about the latest and greatest.

The passionate team behind The Ginger Nuts of Horror delivers thoughtful critiques and recommendations that delve into the nuances of storytelling, character development, and atmospheric tension. Whether you’re looking for hidden gems to stream on a dark and stormy night or want to explore the work of up-and-coming horror filmmakers, this page is packed with content that will ignite your imagination and keep you on the edge of your seat.

So grab your favorite horror-themed snacks, settle into a cozy spot, and immerse yourself in the chilling world of horror literature and film. Head over to The Ginger Nuts of Horror and embark on a journey through the eerie and the extraordinary it’s an adventure you won’t soon forget!