'Victorian Psycho' delivers unrelenting horror in a gothic thriller
Virginia Feito’s new novel blends psychological horror and gothic revenge.
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| Illustration by Febrina Tiara |
By Hayu Andini and Adila Ghina
Victorian Psycho: A Novel, Virginia Feito
Virginia Feito’s Victorian Psycho is an unrelenting descent into gothic horror, delivering a chilling blend of psychological terror and grotesque violence. Following the success of her 2021 novel, Mrs. March, Feito takes a bold step into the macabre with this second novel, crafting a protagonist whose mind is as warped as the bloodstained world she inhabits.
The story follows Winifred Notty, a governess whose view of society is filtered through a grotesque lens, finding horror in the mundane and constructing violent narratives from seemingly inoffensive moments. Unlike the typical Victorian heroine—either a virginal innocent or a rebellious feminist—Winifred is neither. She is an agent of vengeance, determined not only to punish those who have wronged her but to upend an entire system of oppression.
Ensor House and the unraveling of control
Set in what appears to be 19th-century England, the novel takes place in Ensor House, an isolated estate on a desolate moorland. Winifred arrives under the guise of caring for the two children of the Pounds family: Drusilla, a sulking adolescent intent on securing a wealthy marriage, and Andrew, a pompous young boy who looks down on his governess. Their parents complete the dysfunctional household—a lecherous father who views Winifred as his entitlement and a bitter mother who resents her presence.
But Winifred’s arrival is no accident. She has left a trail of destruction behind her, in both the homes she has served and the one she came from. The specifics of her previous dismissals remain unclear, but from the very beginning, one thing is certain: she has no intention of simply fulfilling her duties. Only pages into the novel, she delivers a bone-chilling declaration:
“It is early fall, the cold is beginning to descend, and in three months everyone in this house will be dead.”
A holiday feast of horrors
As Christmas approaches, the tension inside Ensor House reaches its breaking point. The family and their guests, oblivious to the storm of violence that is about to descend upon them, gather to celebrate the holiday season. Winifred, however, has other plans. The festive setting becomes the backdrop for a grisly spectacle, a blood-soaked culmination of her carefully orchestrated revenge.
Feito masterfully threads the narrative with eerie clues that foreshadow Winifred’s true motives. Through flashbacks and disturbing recollections, the reader gains insight into her past—though never quite enough to justify the scale of her atrocities. As her plan unfolds, the line between calculated vengeance and pure malevolence becomes increasingly blurred.
Virginia Feito’s evolution as a writer
With Victorian Psycho, Feito moves far beyond the creeping unease of Mrs. March, her acclaimed debut novel. Where Mrs. March explored psychological deterioration through a woman trapped in a web of paranoia and self-doubt, Victorian Psycho embraces a different kind of madness—one that is fully realized, unapologetic, and gleefully cruel.
Winifred Notty is no passive victim of circumstance. She does not question her own actions, nor does she seek redemption. She is a force of nature, wielding her pain as a weapon. Feito’s writing reflects this shift, abandoning the subtle anxieties of her previous work in favor of an unrelenting onslaught of horror.
The grotesque and the gothic
Winifred’s reign of terror is as psychological as it is physical. She delights in disturbing those around her, feeding on their discomfort. At one point, she bites into the discarded face of a butchered calf, savoring the revulsion it provokes. She taunts her young charges with grotesque stories, claiming that she is fat from consuming the flesh of children. The most horrifying moment, however, comes when she slits a baby’s throat—only to realize her mistake and swiftly kidnap another infant as a replacement.
These acts of violence, described in unflinching detail, push the boundaries of horror fiction. Yet, despite the gruesome imagery, Feito infuses the novel with a dark, almost theatrical humor. Winifred’s actions are so extreme, her confidence so unshakable, that the reader is caught between repulsion and fascination.
The making of a monster
Though Feito never asks the reader to sympathize with Winifred, she does provide glimpses into the forces that shaped her. Like Patrick Bateman in American Psycho and Norman Bates in Psycho, Winifred’s descent into madness is rooted in a past filled with neglect, cruelty, and a distorted sense of justice.
From an early age, Winifred suffered at the hands of those meant to protect her. Her mother, cold and indifferent, allowed her to be mistreated by servants who viewed her suffering as insignificant. These early experiences instilled in Winifred a burning desire for retribution, though the scale of her revenge far exceeds any rational sense of justice.
Yet Feito resists offering a simple explanation. Winifred’s evil is not neatly tied to her past. Instead, the novel presents the unsettling idea that some darkness is inherent—something primal, something inexplicable.
The inevitability of horror
One of the novel’s most haunting moments comes in a casual dinner conversation. As the guests of Ensor House discuss a recent string of murders, one man dismisses the idea that a “good man” could ever truly understand such acts.
“Evil can only be comprehended by evil.”
The statement lingers, echoing the folk wisdom Winifred recalls from her childhood. A servant once told her mother about a chicken that attacked every other animal on the farm, pecking out their eyes and killing them one by one. When asked what could be done about it, the servant simply replied:
“Sometimes evil is born in one of the Lord’s creatures and there’s nowt to do about it, nowt at all.”
It is a chilling suggestion—that some beings are simply made for destruction, that no nurture or circumstance can explain them away. Whether Winifred’s actions stem from trauma or something more primal, Victorian Psycho offers no easy answers.
A gothic nightmare for modern readers
Virginia Feito’s Victorian Psycho is not a novel for the faint of heart. It does not offer redemption or moral resolution. Instead, it drags the reader deep into the mind of a woman who has rejected all societal constraints, embracing a path of pure, unfiltered violence.
Blending gothic horror with psychological thriller elements, the novel cements Feito’s reputation as a bold, fearless storyteller. With its unrelenting gore, its unrepentant anti-heroine, and its grimly humorous tone, Victorian Psycho is a modern gothic masterpiece—one that forces readers to confront their own fascination with the monstrous.
As Winifred Notty leaves Ensor House in ruins, drenched in the blood of those who underestimated her, one question lingers: Was she always destined to be this way? Or was society’s cruelty merely the final push?
In the end, it may not matter. The horror of Victorian Psycho lies not in its answers, but in its refusal to give any.
