From the very first page, Mangan’s new release pulls us in and steadily overwhelms us with uneasy tension, until we’re struggling to breathe ... Between the mysteries, Mangan leaves room for some powerful emotion about the nature of creativity and the emotionally fraught toll the publishing industry has on a writer, the constant need to meet or, better yet, exceed expectations with each new volume. The unending push and pull between criticism and praise, the destructive power of words and public opinion, and how all of that can push someone beyond their own limits and rationality ... a meaty psychological thriller perfect for fans of Highsmith and du Maurier, so vividly described you can smell the briny air of Venice. It’s a slowly unfolding tragedy that seems painfully inevitable, even destined, by the end. Like receding floodwaters, this one will leave a mark sure to linger for weeks to come.

... features a fraught relationship between two women that can sometimes stress the reader out ... Mangan writes with lush, evocative, busy prose. This novel, too, heaves with allusions to other books and other authors — a little Patricia Highsmith here, a little Virginia Woolf there, glimpses of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House someplace else ... Gilly never becomes a fully formed character. It is unclear what exactly she is doing in Venice, other than acting as a plot device. But there is a bravery and a poignancy to Frankie that elevates the novel...I would have liked more about Frankie’s past, which Mangan sketches out almost as an aside, but which explains so much ... It takes some patience to remain inside the fevered mind of Frankie, with its daily questioning of its own sanity, but the wait is worth it. When you learn the truth at the end, you’ll want to go back and rethink everything you read before.

... a perceptive character study. Mangan's accomplished second novel spins on low-boil psychological underpinnings, with a threat of violence ... The complicated dynamic between the two women, based on lies, secrets and jealousy, propels the story. Venice emerges as a strong character, with Mangan skillfully exploring the city's myriad facets ... also works well as a sophisticated story about friendship, the creative process and loving the unlovable.

If you like your psychological suspense stories awash in atmosphere, drenched in dread, positively soaked through with sinisterness, Palace of the Drowned, by Christine Mangan is for you ... The ingeniousness of Palace of the Drowned derives from Mangan’s great skill in stirring up carefully calibrated doubt about everything and everyone ... Mangan’s narrative structure, especially in the dead center of this tale, can sometimes feel a bit waterlogged, a little too bogged down in its own clever ambiguities. But the pace picks up as the historic storm of 1966 gathers force. Mangan, who has a PhD in English with a focus on Gothic literature, clearly revels in describing the claustrophobic terror of the storm ... In a melodramatic climax worthy of the opera that Frankie and Gilly attend, tears, accusations and confessions fly free; so, too, do precious manuscript pages that sink down beneath the rising waves of the canal that borders the palazzo. Like so many other recent suspense stories, Palace of the Drowned ultimately turns out to be a tale about literary appropriation and the anxiety of authorship. About her own commanding authorship, Mangan should have no anxieties: This is one damp creeper that will give readers renewed appreciation for the stability of dry land.

Mangan’s careful study of the incredible toll an artistic life can take, mingles with the challenge of being mentally unwell ... With atmospheric writing and a literary bent, Palace of the Drowned is as much an exploration of the use of language and a study of the artistic experience, as it is a revelation of plot. Events do link, one to the next, but the way in which Mangan puts words together is as important as the story arc ... rich and suspenseful.

... an atmospheric literary thriller set in gorgeous, dangerous historic Venice ... a heady, atmospheric novel --- at times so thick with detail and a sense of place that the narrative is almost inaccessible. So much of the book is neither plot- nor character-driven, but rather propelled by the anxious, paranoid thoughts of Frankie, that it can be difficult to find a stronghold early on. Frankie is not a likable character, but she is certainly a compelling one. Although her anxiety and confusion can be stifling, Mangan is able to unlock an entire world of choices, fears and traumas in her head ... This is a decidedly gothic novel, highly literary and steeped in references and allusions to classic literature, which may turn off some readers. But when the plot kicks off about halfway through, it becomes propulsive. With so much of the story occurring in Frankie’s head, the sudden shift to real danger and conflicts feels like the ultimate climax. And when Gilly’s true identity and motives are revealed --- along with the response from Frankie --- the novel becomes as fast-paced and creepy as the best contemporary thrillers. With moody, damp and sultry off-season Venice creeping on the edges of every page, the already taut plot becomes even richer in dread and a sense of foreboding. Mangan’s descriptions of Venice --- beautiful, historic, crumbling and full of surprises --- really flesh out the melodrama. In fact, I’m certain that this book could not work in any other city ... Though slow to start, Palace of the Drowned is full of gorgeous, rich descriptions of Venice and a surprising, tension-filled friendship. A mesmerizing literary thriller akin to Rebecca and The Secret History, it is sinister, beguiling and ghostly.

Unlike in Tangerine, this one unwinds in a largely predictable fashion, but Mangan again displays a gift for using setting to create mood, this time in her evocation of the creepy palazzo and in the high tides engulfing Venice.

... elegantly elegiac ... Though not all the Highsmithian deceptions come off as equally convincing, Mangan, unlike Frankie, more than lives up to the promise of her debut.

Much of the suspense here is driven by misdirection, abetted by Frankie’s puzzling inability to ask pointed questions. Not surprisingly, it develops that Gilly herself has writerly ambitions, and the narrative takes an All About Eve turn. A reference to Patricia Highsmith, like Chekhov’s gun, will also play out, because Gilly has much in common with Ripley, in that her real aim is to supplant her hero. These tropes wind down in a not entirely unexpected but fitting way.