Astonishing story-telling. I was gripped pretty much from the start. The writing is lovely - some gorgeous imagery that seems to penetrate to the heart of the mystery and carry you along with it, even though you don't know where you're going for long enough!

This was close to a 5 star read for me. Gothic-style mysteries are not usually my thing, but when I saw Jane Eyre referenced in the book, I just had to give it a try. Besides, I'm a sucker for books about books, writers and writing.

Setterfield captured me from the first page. Literate, well-written and intriguing - I couldn't put it down. Impressive for a first novel.

This is one of the few books I can pick up again and again and still be captivated by the book, and the story within the story.

What is up with me and stories about creepy, dysfunctional families?

First of all, this somehow managed to have the exact same framing device as another book I read recently, the (more recently published) [b:The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo|32620332|The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo|Taylor Jenkins Reid|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1498169036l/32620332._SY75_.jpg|46885151]. A wet-behind-the-ears female writer is, for mysterious reasons, handpicked by an elderly and obscenely famous celebrity who insists that this person is the only one capable of writing the celebrity's memoirs before they pass on. In The Thirteenth Tale, that celebrity is a celebrated novelist; in Evelyn Hugo, she is a bombshell movie star. In this book, the writer is a very smart and, I get the feeling, asexual, antiquarian bookshop assistant who dabbles in historical nonfiction writing as a hobby; in Evelyn Hugo she is a journalist who writes for a fashion magazine. My guess is Taylor Jenkins Reid might be a fan of The Thirteenth Tale. But the stories contained within this framing device couldn't be more different.

You never really learn when this book takes place. There are cars, trains, landlines, and color billboards, but no computers or cell phones (at least, not that are mentioned). Our memoirist doesn't even have a typewriter, she writes everything out in pencil.

You know when a story has twins, and redheaded twins at that, there's going to be ~D-R-A-M-A~!!!! This book was no exception - hoo boy, was it ever not an exception. Our young (maybe? You never really find out her age but she seems late 20s or early 30s) memoirist, Margaret, is riveted by novelist Vida Winter's tale of her childhood on a decaying estate, within an extremely toxic family. There are only two servants left, and they are getting on in years and are not up to the task of running the household themselves. Vida, who has told a different made-up tale of her upbringing in every interview, promised to be honest with Margaret, but she isn't to ask any questions or try to skip around in the story. Margaret has a few days off here and there where she pokes around the burned ruins of Vida's childhood estate, where she thinks she sees a ghost, and meets a gentle giant, Aurelius, a foundling whose adoptive mother taught him to bake wonderful cakes, who thinks he may be tied up in this drama somehow.

The more poking around she does, the more mysteries she uncovers. And she suspects that Ms. Winter is not being 100% truthful with her. Considering Ms. Winter is at death's door, she better make with the facts...and quick.

I can't really tell you more because of all the spoilers, but let's just say I devoured this book and would recommend it to anyone who wants a beautifully layered gothic story with lots of twists and turns. It even has a nice resolution, if that's your thing. It's not really my thing, but I'll accept it if the rest of the story was good enough, and it is.

So well written and page turning. You will get lost in this story and desparate to figure out how it ends.

The weather here has begun to contract. It begins its annual disassembly into the fundamentals of winter. The sun has lost its violence. Humidity has been trucked away from view. It is still warm, but just. The mornings creak and whisper, a bite in the air. It is no great secret why ghost stories maintain their currency. I simply don't care. Rattling chains and mysterious footfalls can be regarded as symbols of family secrets. Personally I don't need creepy enhancements of subterfuge: I've heard all that before, and without the moaning as well. My family history is disturbing enough without the inexplicable. Ectoplasm doesn't scare me. Sigh.

The Thirteenth Tale recalls The little Stranger. I hated that one as well. Instead of broaching class relations in postwar England, The Thirteenth Tale attempts to garner steam from the literary sleuth sub-genre: instead of the Vatican, this time it is the moors.. Imagine my surprise upon realizing how unliterary our scholar proved to be, not mention the author Diane Setterfield. Middlebrow mewling into Jane Eyre: I should've known better.

A mysterious pageturner full of plot twists and dysfunctional families. A novice biographer is invited to hear the story of one of the most famous writers of her time. The author is eloquent and thought provoking through the voice of writer Vida Winter, who has experienced much sorrow during her mysterious past. The passion for books was deeply conveyed through many characters, which was highly inspiring for a librarian :)