Freya Marske has built her reputation on transforming beloved stories into something entirely new, and with Cinder House, she delivers her most ambitious reinvention yet. This Gothic Cinderella retelling strips away the saccharine coating of Disney adaptations to reveal something far more complex and haunting beneath. Where traditional versions focus on transformation through external magic, Marske’s novella explores the devastating reality of being trapped between life and death, making visibility itself the ultimate prize.
The story follows Ella, murdered at sixteen and now existing as a ghost bound to her father’s house, visible only to her murderous stepmother Patrice and cruel stepsisters Danica and Greta. What begins as a familiar setup quickly evolves into something far more sophisticated, as Marske weaves themes of agency, desire, and the cost of existing in spaces not meant for you.
A Masterclass in Atmospheric Worldbuilding
Marske’s greatest strength lies in her ability to make the house itself a character. The author’s prose drips with Gothic sensuality, transforming everyday domestic spaces into something alive and breathing. Ella doesn’t simply haunt the house; she is the house, feeling every creak of floorboard and whisper of wind through her very essence. This unique perspective allows Marske to explore haunting as both literal supernatural phenomenon and metaphor for how trauma embeds itself in physical spaces.
The worldbuilding extends beyond the domestic sphere with careful attention to political intrigue and magical systems. The tension between neighboring kingdoms, the role of fairies in society, and the complex relationship between different types of magic create a rich backdrop that feels both familiar and fresh. Marske particularly excels at depicting the ballet sequences, where Prince Jule’s cursed dancing becomes a meditation on art, desire, and the dangerous power of being truly seen.
Character Development Through Constraint
One of the novella’s most impressive achievements is how Marske develops Ella’s character within the constraints of her ghostly existence. Stripped of traditional agency, Ella must find power in observation, memory, and the gradual understanding of her own nature. The relationship between Ella and her house becomes a fascinating exploration of identity—where does the ghost end and the haunted space begin?
The stepfamily, rather than existing as simple antagonists, are portrayed with psychological complexity. Patrice’s pragmatic cruelty stems from her own fear of powerlessness, while Greta’s escalating violence reveals someone desperate to matter in a world that would otherwise ignore her. Even Danica, the most passive of the stepsisters, carries her own weight of complicity and fear.
A Romance That Transcends Convention
The romantic elements of Cinder House deserve particular praise for their maturity and emotional intelligence. The relationship between Ella, Prince Jule, and Princess Nadya forms an unconventional triangle that explores different forms of love, desire, and connection. Jule’s fairy curse—which makes anyone who sees him dance fall dangerously in love with him—becomes a powerful metaphor for the complexity of consent and the difference between magical compulsion and genuine feeling.
Marske handles the physical aspects of romance with remarkable skill, creating scenes that are both sensual and emotionally resonant. The constraints of Ella’s ghostly form make every moment of potential touch precious, while the magical solutions to Jule’s curse allow for exploration of desire within carefully negotiated boundaries.
Structural Brilliance and Pacing Concerns
The novella’s structure mirrors its themes beautifully, with each “part” representing a different stage of Ella’s understanding of her own nature and desires. The revelation of the skeleton in the attic provides a masterful moment of recognition, while the climactic confrontation brings together all the story’s threads in satisfying, if occasionally rushed, ways.
However, the compressed format does create some pacing issues. Certain character relationships, particularly Ella’s correspondence with Scholar Mazamire (later revealed to be Princess Nadya), feel underdeveloped given their importance to the plot. The final confrontation with Greta, while emotionally satisfying, happens quite quickly after extensive buildup.
Literary Merit and Thematic Depth
Marske demonstrates sophisticated understanding of Gothic literature’s central concerns: the persistence of the past, the horror of being trapped, and the ways trauma literally haunts physical spaces. The author’s background in academic writing shows in her careful attention to magical theory and the internal logic of her supernatural elements.
The themes of visibility and recognition resonate particularly strongly in contemporary contexts. Ella’s desperate desire to be seen and heard, to matter to someone beyond her abusers, speaks to broader experiences of marginalization and invisibility. The fairy tale framework allows Marske to explore these themes without heavy-handedness, letting the metaphors emerge naturally from the story’s logic.
Minor Criticisms and Areas for Improvement
While Cinder House succeeds admirably overall, some elements feel slightly underdeveloped. The political subplot involving the Cajarac alliance, while providing important context for Nadya’s character, occasionally feels disconnected from Ella’s personal journey. Additionally, some of the magical rules around ghostly existence could benefit from clearer explanation, particularly regarding what allows Ella to affect the physical world at certain moments but not others.
The novella’s length, while generally appropriate, means that some supporting characters remain somewhat sketched rather than fully realized. Quaint the fairy, in particular, feels like she could support more development given her importance to the plot’s resolution.
Context Within Marske’s Body of Work
Readers familiar with Marske’s Last Binding trilogy will recognize her gift for reimagining magical systems and her skill at writing complex romantic dynamics. Cinder House represents both a departure and a refinement—the Gothic atmosphere is new territory for Marske, but her ability to balance multiple romantic interests and her attention to the political implications of magical power remain consistent strengths.
This novella also demonstrates Marske’s growing confidence in handling darker themes. Where her previous works maintained a generally optimistic tone despite their conflicts, Cinder House isn’t afraid to sit with horror, trauma, and genuine loss.
Final Verdict: A Haunting Success
Cinder House succeeds brilliantly as both fairy tale retelling and original work of Gothic fantasy. Marske has created something genuinely haunting—a story that lingers in the mind long after reading, like the ghost at its center. While the novella format creates some constraints on character development and world-building, the focused narrative allows for deep exploration of its central themes.
This is a story that earns its darkness, using the Gothic framework not for cheap thrills but to explore genuine questions about agency, desire, and what it means to be seen. Marske has proven once again why she’s considered one of the most innovative voices in contemporary fantasy romance.
Recommended for Readers Who Enjoyed
- Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
- The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow
- The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab
- The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling
- Swordcrossed by Freya Marske
Cinder House stands as a worthy addition to the growing canon of sophisticated fairy tale retellings, proving that the oldest stories still have new secrets to reveal.
