“In ghost, Thomas smiled at Edith, really smiled; she remembered the glow of flame in his eyes when they had danced the Chopin waltz; the radiance of the firelight on his face in their humble honeymoon sanctuary at the depot. Need had driven him into the darkness, but love had brought him into the light. It had redeemed him.”
Crimson Peak, book.
Renisance paintings, fields of wildflowers, old abandoned mansions with overgrowth, Greek mythos, old decorative bibles, the smell of hot herbal tea, early mornings, fresh dew on a spiderweb, makeup, large elaborate fountain sculptures, and the sound of the wind rustling leaves as they fall
Emerson Lake and Palmer:
smashed guitars, large cities at night, dusty church organs, metropolis movie posters, elegant gilded swords, old sifi novels, old alcohol bottles, the smell of cinnamon, bruised knuckles, sunsets, the smell of summer air, and the sound of a forest in winter
the ocean, iridescence, mountain air in the early morning, water lilies, greenhouses, the smell of the sea after a storm, holding hands, glittery capes, fae, ripples in a cup of water, elegant lace dresses, warm raspberry tea, daisies in the early morning sun, and grainy mermaid footage
large abandoned castles, old music books, smeared crimson lipstick, crowns made of gold and rubies, velvet robes, gold flakes, the smell of autumn, the sound of leaves crunching, baroque shattered mirrors, elaborate gilded daggers, red candle wax on a skull, the smell of insense burning, shattered crystals, blood soaked books, torn midevil tapestries, and empty parlor rooms with nothing but old broken furniture and paintings on the floor
Light shows, prisms, torn up money, the smell of old cigarettes that linger years after one was ever smoked, mushrooms, silhouettes, vintage postcards, erupting volcanos, broken walls, abandoned factories, the smell of an old book, dusty rooms, big fuzzy wool sweaters, and decorative tobacco pipes
the night sky, old science textbooks, silk kimonos, skeletons, the desert, the smell of new technology, dusty Ayn Rand novels, the sound of music through an old radio, the smell of an old maple table, the Canadian tundra, apples, smashed synthesizers, gears, grandfather clocks, and carved statues of trees
When her heart is stolen by a seductive stranger, a young woman is swept away to a house atop a mountain of blood-red clay: a place filled with secrets that will haunt her forever.
Between desire and darkness, between mystery and madness, lies the truth behind Crimson Peak.
I fell deeply in love with the film when it came out. The aesthetics, the cinematography, the gothic, the romance and horror, I am still totally fascinated by the film. Of course, I had to have the book and it probably comes as no surprise that I read it multiple times. If you loved the film, definitely read the book, it brings unanswered question to light and deepens the story in general.
The book follows the film almost perfectly, but of course in a person’s view. It is so amazingly creepy and vivid, and I often read many passages over and over because they are so incredibly picturesque. The novelisation is truly beautiful; it captures the spirit, heart, and inner feelings totally well. Plus you get some interesting perspectives! The setting in the film was phenomenal and left me speechless, and so does the book. It is deeply dark, full of horror, romantic, creepy, disturbing, and overall just amazing! I keep this review short and sweet because I could go on for hours, JUST READ THIS BOOK IT IS BLOODY AMAZING!! :D