This is not, in any meaningful sense, a continuation of the "Gormenghast Trilogy." It is not even a pendant to it. It is a novel that takes as its protagonist a character of the same name, and apparently the same history, but little or no actual psychology in common with the Titus of "Gormenghast" and "Titus Alone."
Where the latter was surreal, intense, and visually exciting, this is drab and depressing. Like the trilogy, it is obviously written by an artist, but one without Mervyn Peake's brilliant ability to make the language paint what he wants us to see - Gilmore has some ability in this line, but never reaches the feverish intensity of Peake's best moments.
The titular Titus, having turned his back on Gormenghast once and for all at the end of "Titus Alone," becomes a strangely passive fellow. He moves from place to place, and continually needs rescuing, either from the elements or from his rescuers.
Most of the characters he meets are never given the dignity of names. Those that are tend to be more sympathetic and well-drawn than the anonymous majority, but in the end they are nothing but foils for Titus: for his need for rescuing, for his adolescent insistence on independence and freedom, and for his abandonment.
After looking forward to this book for some time, I think it's fair to say that I'm disappointed. Read Peake's trilogy, but don't bother with this.