Frightful Reads Friday: The Death of Jane Lawrence Review
- Cailynn Brawffe
- Oct 24
- 5 min read
Marriage isn’t always a happy ending. In gothic horror, it’s often the beginning of a nightmare. Caitlin Starling’s The Death of Jane Lawrence takes the institution of marriage — something society tells us is safe, proper, and respectable — and cracks it open to reveal secrets, lies, and occult horror festering beneath.
This novel reminded me why I wrote The Girl Who Knew The Medicine. Sometimes, the scariest thing isn’t the ghost in the room or the monster in the woods. It’s the neighbour who smiles at you during the day while whispering curses at night. It’s the person you love — or think you do — who keeps their rituals hidden until it’s too late. Suspicion can be as deadly as any demon.
In this The Death of Jane Lawrence review, I’ll share what makes the book such a chilling gothic tale, why it deserves a place on your horror shelf, and how it connects to my own fascination with witchcraft, ritual, and the stories communities tell to make sense of fear.
The Death of Jane Lawrence: A Gothic Marriage Gone Wrong
On the surface, Jane Shoringfield is a pragmatic, sensible woman. Orphaned in a world that doesn’t grant much independence to women, she approaches marriage like a contract. She seeks stability, practicality, and an arrangement that will give her freedom within the restrictions of society.
Enter Dr. Augustine Lawrence. He’s handsome, intelligent, and wealthy enough to offer security. Their agreement is clear: Jane will marry him, but she must live apart in town. She is not to set foot in his ancestral home, Lindridge Hall.
It sounds simple enough — until circumstances force Jane to spend her wedding night at Lindridge.
The house is everything you want from a gothic estate: creaking halls, shadows that linger too long, and secrets carved into its very walls. That night, Jane discovers her husband is not what he seems. His rules aren’t eccentric — they’re protective. Lindridge Hall conceals rituals, occult practices, and horrors Jane cannot unsee once the door is opened.
From there, the novel descends into a twisted labyrinth of love, dread, and the occult. The closer Jane gets to her husband’s secrets, the more entangled she becomes in rituals that blur the line between sanity and sorcery.
Themes and Atmosphere
What makes The Death of Jane Lawrence so chilling is not just its plot, but the themes it explores — each one firmly rooted in gothic horror tradition.
Marriage as Horror
At its heart, this is a novel about the horror of intimacy. In gothic literature, marriage often represents a trap: think of Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier or Jane Eyre. A woman steps into a new home, only to discover it’s filled with secrets that will consume her.
Starling amplifies that tradition. Jane enters into marriage expecting safety, but finds entrapment. The bond between husband and wife becomes a source of terror. In a world where women often had little agency, marriage could either be protection — or a prison.
Secrets and Forbidden Knowledge
The allure of forbidden rooms, hidden books, and locked doors has always haunted gothic fiction. Starling leans into this with elegance. Lindridge Hall is a maze of secrets, where every corridor seems to conceal an unspeakable truth.
When Jane pushes against the boundaries her husband sets, she discovers that curiosity comes at a price. This is where the story resonates with the history of witch trials: knowledge itself was dangerous. Women who read too much, questioned too loudly, or wandered too far were branded witches. Jane’s curiosity becomes her curse.
Occult Horror and Ritual
At the core of The Death of Jane Lawrence is the occult. Rituals, symbols, and dark practices bind the story together, transforming it from a gothic romance into full-blown horror.
This is where it speaks to me as the author of The Girl Who Knew The Medicine. In my novel, rituals also form the battleground of fear. Communities in South Africa have long debated the difference between ancestral calling (ubungoma) and harmful witchcraft (ukuthakatha). Rituals of healing and rituals of harm often look alike — what matters is how others perceive them.
Starling’s book reminds us that rituals can be both sacred and profane, healing and destructive. And, as always, suspicion is enough to turn a ritual into a curse.
Why It’s Frightful
So, why does The Death of Jane Lawrence linger long after the last page?
Claustrophobic Dread
The novel traps you in Lindridge Hall, a house that becomes more than a setting — it’s a character. The walls seem to breathe, the rooms hum with secrets, and you never feel safe within its halls.
The Terror of Suspicion
Jane’s relationship with Lawrence is a web of mistrust. Can she believe his explanations? Is he protecting her, or manipulating her? Suspicion festers until it feels more dangerous than any ghost.
Occult Imagery
Ritual circles, blood, and shadowy practices give the novel its occult weight. These images echo both gothic fiction and real accusations from witch trials, where neighbours swore they saw witches at sabbats or consorting with demons.
Psychological Horror
What makes this book truly terrifying is its exploration of doubt. Jane begins to question not just her husband, but her own mind. In gothic horror, the scariest place is often inside your own head.
For me, this aspect connected deeply to The Girl Who Knew The Medicine. In both stories, suspicion spreads like wildfire. A smile from a neighbour can be a mask for hatred. A ritual can be a sacred act — or a curse, depending on who’s watching. And once suspicion takes root, there’s no turning back.
The Death of Jane Lawrence Review: Final Thoughts
Caitlin Starling’s The Death of Jane Lawrence is a masterclass in gothic horror. It takes everything we love about the genre — decaying estates, forbidden knowledge, occult rituals — and pushes it into new, terrifying territory.
In this review, I’ve tried to show how the novel isn’t just a story of one woman and her secrets, but a reflection of the fears that haunt us all: fear of intimacy, fear of betrayal, fear of the unseen rituals that might be happening behind closed doors.
Like The Girl Who Knew The Medicine, this novel lives in the tension between community and secrecy, suspicion and survival. Both stories ask: when does ritual become a curse? And who gets to decide who the witch really is?
So, would you trust Jane’s husband? Or would you run the moment the doors of Lindridge Hall closed behind you?
🖤 If you loved the atmosphere of The Death of Jane Lawrence, you’ll find similar shadows in The Girl Who Knew The Medicine — where ancestral power and inherited dread collide in a South African high school setting.
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