A few weeks ago I wrote an bit about Gothic novels, wherein I joked that their covers tend to feature imperiled ladies in filmy nightgowns. Today, just for fun, I pulled a few mid-century Gothics off the shelves to illustrate my point. Imperiled ladies? Check! Filmy nightgowns? Double check! Crumbling towers? Check and mate!
Tangentially, I think there's an interesting argument to be made that Ian Fleming's The Spy who Loved Me is a kind of Gothic novel. But that'll have to wait for another day.
Please to enjoy the fruits of my labors after the jump.
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