I thought I was picking up a story of forbidden passion and sundered lovers, but instead got a portrait of religious hypocrisy and, intensely depicted, narcissitic obsession and objectification of the "loved" person as a recepticle for the emotions of the protagonist. It's clear that Bierce has no sympathy for the actions of the main character, the monk, Ambrosius, but neither is he portrayed as a stock, moustache-twirling gothic villain. In presenting the narrative from the single point of view of Ambrosius's diary, Bierce ran the risk of seeming to empathise with or justify the monk's self-absorbed fantasies, but he's too good a writer for that, thankfully.

How much of this sentiment is in the original German-language story by [a:Richard Voss|232971|Richard Voss|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/m_50x66-82093808bca726cb3249a493fbd3bd0f.png], which Bierce co-translated, I don't know, but in his introduction he states that he added much material of his own, as well a translating Voss.

Gothic conventions he did use include: perverse monks; febrile religious passions; peasant village life; wild, rugged mountain landscapes; the dead, and intimations of mortality and doom. All to good effect.

Whoa. Creepy monk story.

Listened as a radio drama from the 70's with dramatic music and the cold wind whistling in the background. Dark autumn or winter night is the time to let this gothic tale set you in the mood, my darkling friends.