Not Forgetting Adele

About This Audiobook

Julia Harbour’s *Not Forgetting Adele* doesn’t just revisit Brontë’s classic cast—it traps them in a slow-burning horror that feels like a fever dream. Adele, the neglected ward of Rochester’s household, isn’t a side note here; she’s the story’s fractured center, her perspective dripping with paranoia and rage. Harbour’s prose is lush but controlled, weaving historical fiction’s period details with the creeping dread of a psychological unraveling. The audiobook’s tension isn’t in jump scares but in the way Harbour lets silence speak volumes—until it doesn’t. Virginia Ferguson’s narration is a masterclass in restraint and intensity, her voice shifting from icy detachment to breathless urgency as Adele’s grip on reality frays. Listeners who crave atmosphere over action will find this a hauntingly immersive experience."

"No classic retelling is safe from Harbour’s scalpel. She peels back layers of Brontë’s original to expose the rot beneath—classism, obsession, and the way women are made to disappear in plain sight. The pacing is deliberate, almost glacial at times, which will frustrate those expecting a whirlwind romance or a ghost story with clear rules. But for those who savor mood over momentum, this is a gothic horror novel that lingers like the scent of old candle wax and damp stone. Ferguson’s performance is the glue holding it together, her cadence mimicking the clatter of hooves on cobblestones or the hush of a locked-up attic. The audiobook’s 9-hour runtime feels earned, not indulgent."

"review": "I went into *Not Forgetting Adele* expecting a Gothic fanfiction exercise, but Harbour’s debut landed like a punch to the gut. Virginia Ferguson’s narration is the reason this audiobook works as well as it does—her voice oscillates between the clipped precision of an aristocratic upbringing and the raw, unhinged whispers of someone who hasn’t slept in days. The first time she delivered Adele’s line—*‘He locked me away, and they let him’*—I got chills. Harbour’s writing is where things get messy, though. Some chapters drag under the weight of description, and Adele’s descent into obsession occasionally feels repetitive rather than revelatory. The Rochester figure, here recast as a predator rather than a Byronic hero, is a bold choice, but his motivations sometimes blur into caricature. Ferguson’s performance sells it anyway, her tone shifting from amused disdain to outright menace when he’s onstage. The production is crisp, with no muffled dialogue or distracting background noise, which is crucial in a story where every creaking floorboard matters. My biggest critique? The ending felt abrupt, like Harbour rushed to close a door that deserved a slower, more deliberate slam. Still, the final image of Adele—alive, but not free—will stick with me longer than most horror novels do. If you want a Gothic horror that’s as much about the dread of memory as it is about hauntings, this is your book. Just don’t expect a cozy listen."

"tags": ["gothic horror audiobook