Literary Horror discussion

Please join Vavita and myself for a buddy read of Things We Lost in the Fire by Mariana Enriquez. We had this collection as a buddy read a few years ago, but one of my favorite books deserves more than one!

A couple reviews:
https://www.theguardian.com/books/201...
https://therumpus.net/2017/03/13/thin...

We'll start around April 1.

looks great, I'm gonna get in on this

I just got this from the library, so I'll join the buddy read.

Starting today!
I will start slow but, as I have vacations as of April 11, I will probably read faster then.

I'll pace myself, no worries!

"The Dirty Kid": just as impressive the second time. I remember this to be bleak and intense, and so it is. Somehow I didn't remember the chatty narrator; usually I'm not a fan of chatty narratives, but this is very well done, and she is a complex, flawed and sympathetic character. I also loved Lala, and how the characters navigate the relentlessly bleak but colorful urban backdrop. So many disturbing questions left at the end, just the way I like it.

The Dirty Kid.

I grew up with stories like this one, about saints, demons, and witchcraft. This was too close to reality and therefore very scary.
The fact that the story has an open end makes it worse. Why did I have to read it now just before going to bed?!

Something I completely forgot to mention: I liked how the social criticism is included in little details within the horror story.
For example: "Passengers contain their grief and disgust. The boy is dirty and stinks, but I never saw no one compassionate enough to get him off the subway, take him home, give him a bath, call social workers." That is the typical way, we may see people on the streets, give them a dollar, give them a sandwich, but we don't do more, we continue with our lives.
At the end, on top of the horror of what the mother did to the children, the guilt the narrator feels for not doing more for him hunts her more than the fear that makes her run back home.

wonderfully written

Vavita wrote: "Something I completely forgot to mention: I liked how the social criticism is included in little details within the horror story."

Me too. The social commentary is always part of the narrator's experience, never didactic.

One might reductively call "The Inn" a ghost story. But the richness of the narrative, with all the historical and personal references, makes it work for me: the budding teenage lesbian romance, the former police academy, economic hardship contrasted with the election maneuvering of the privileged. And that chorizo prank! Ouch.

The Inn

It was a nice ghost story. I liked it but, it left me with a void feeling as if I’d missed something. Too much build up for an abrupt ending.

The Intoxicated Years.

This was hard to read. Very brutal.

I actually thought "The Intoxicated Years" was relatively light. I must have hung out with a much more dubious crowd in my feckless youth. Not a lot of surprises, but I enjoyed the infectious narrative energy that carried the misadventures and poor life choices of the characters.

I remember "Adela's House" being a favorite from my first reading. The young girl narrator's voice is again beautifully done, and we have a complex weave of teenage yearning and social sparring, economic disparities, and the disturbing spatial disruptions of the house itself. Nothing explicitly supernatural actually happens, but the little details (view spoiler)[the shelf of fingernails and teeth, yikes (hide spoiler)] come together to suggest the worst.

"An Invocation of the Big-Eared Runt": I don't think I got much out of this before, and not the second time either. But hey, "Adela's House" is a hard act to follow.

Obviously I'm itching to press on. How's everyone else doing, especially Video_ouija and Evangelos who've been quiet for awhile? Happy to wait a bit for everyone to catch up.

Adela’s House

Oh, my! Adela is back! It seems Our Share of Night will be published in English by end of the year. Adela and Pablo make an appearance in that book. It was so great to “see them again”.
I recommend you get that book. It is about a demonic cult in Argentina. Very dark and strange. I really enjoyed it.

Bill wrote: "I actually thought "The Intoxicated Years" was relatively light. I must have hung out with a much more dubious crowd in my feckless youth."

Well, I drank a lot and partied a lot, but I was very careful with I did to my body. I didn’t want to be the one sleeping in the disco’s restroom or puking in the corner. Now that I am a mother, this type of stories freak me out as I fear my son would hurt himself in some way.

An Invocation of the Big-Eared Runt

Wow! This woman is a great writer! I don’t know how the English translation is, but the whole story is written in a way in which you just KNOW that guy is going crazy. (view spoiler)[You know that it is like the wife says, that he is obsessed… you know that he feels fulfilled when he revisits the murders’ details… And the whole time you expect nothing less than him murdering his son. When that doesn’t happen, what are your feelings? Did you want to see the what was expected? Even though it is horrible? Or do you think “well, that was close. Good it didn’t happen!” (hide spoiler)]. I wonder what the author wanted us to think.

Vavita wrote: "Oh, my! Adela is back! It seems Our Share of Night will be published in English by end of the year."
Thanks for the good news! Totally looking forward to more Enriquez in English.

So Our Share of Night is a prequel to the events in "Adela's House"? What did you think of the story?

Sounds like you're reading the collection in Spanish. The English translation by Megan McDowell is impeccable. It barely registers that I'm reading a translation. McDowell's translations of Samanta Schweblin are also excellent.

No, Our Share of Night starts in 1981 and ends in in 1997. The events with Adela are just a little part in 1985/86. Then you see the same story with more details. I think the narrator of that part is Pablo. I don’t remember for sure. In the book, Pablo and Adela are friends of Gaspar, who is the main character of the book.

Bill wrote: "Sounds like you're reading the collection in Spanish."

Yes, that's my mother language.

"Spiderweb" is not a type of story that I usually enjoy. But it worked for me because of the familiar Enriquez touches: the unflinching (but non-didactic) look at socioeconomic disparity, and the colorful characters coping in challenging circumstances. I really liked how the narrator finally stood up for herself in a small way near the end. And the (view spoiler)[unexplained disappearance of the hateful husband (hide spoiler)] at the end was oddly satisfying.

Well, we are on vacations and, of course, I forgot my book at home! Sigh…
I will be continuing this book after April 23.

Just borrowed this from the library thanks to an invite to this thread from Bill.

Great to have you join the buddy read, Marc! I'll wait a bit before diving into "The Neighbor's Courtyard", one of my favorites from my first time.

I'm listening to the audio but have decided I must have pages with these stories. I look forward to it.

The Dirty Kid
I was caught off guard by the way I shared the narrator's relief at first that the Dirty Kid was not the Decapitated Boy as if a couple pages of sharing his familiarity with the narrator somehow made his life more meaningful. I guess this is human nature the way a tragedy like a building collapse is more real and painful if you actually know a victim personally but man does this come across in this story. And it was so disturbing when the mom yells back "I gave them to him!" As already mentioned above, a lot of wonderful social commentary and overlapping class/demographics woven naturally into this story. Had me quite interested to look up Pomba Gira (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pomba_Gira) / Maria Padilha (https://occult-world.com/padilha-maria/), and San la Muerte (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_La_...).

This is my first time reading Enríquez.

If I should just jump to "The Neighbor's Courtyard," that's fine by me (I can read the others out of order and without needing to comment on all of them).

I loved "The Dirty Kid." I felt simpatico with the narrator in her love for an old home she associates with her childhood. Something felt familiar to me in her lack of perspective when she decides to live there. (I have been in a somewhat similar situation.) I sort of go along with her romantic notions of a beautiful home. But the extreme nature of the child's death feels like a harsh inditement of her naivete. It is almost comical.

I attended a fantasy and science fiction conference this past weekend. There was an excellent panel on gothic literature. A couple of themes were discussed that more or less appear here: the main character is often the odd "man" out; the main character does not have much social power; the main character often feels out of place and is not confident in their own setting; the main character often faces some psychological constraint like choosing not to leave an untenable situation for whatever reason. There was much more, but this is all I could discern from my notes.

I felt a sympathetic narrative voice in Enriquez and was going along with her on everything. (Well, maybe except when she was a little harsh with the dirty kid when they were in the presence of the mother.) (view spoiler)[But what I found most refreshing is that the MC finally has a change of heart when it comes to an "outsider's" views of her recent state of mind and decision-making in terms of choosing to stay in her old neighborhood. I love her about-face, though she had along spoke of her mother's challenges. It is like she is awakened and is finally free. (hide spoiler)]

Marc wrote: "The Dirty Kid
I was caught off guard by the way I shared the narrator's relief at first that the Dirty Kid was not the Decapitated Boy as if a couple pages of sharing his familiarity with the narra..."

Marc, I wasn't sure of San la Muerte. When I listened to the audio, I thought the narrator was saying Santa Muerte, or some shortened version. Still, I am not sure of the differences between the two other than provenance and that one is male and the other female. Thanks for posting the article links.

Her "change of heart" is pretty abrupt:

"Maybe, as everyone had said, I was fixated on that house because it allowed me to isolate myself, because no one visited me there, because I was depressed and I made up romantic stories about a neighborhood that really was just shit, shit, shit. ... Maybe I wasn't the princess in her castle; maybe I was a madwoman locked in her tower."

To borrow a phrase from my father's generation that I think is no longer PC, it's like she's "slumming it" and the violence to the children makes her realize there's nothing romantic about the danger surrounding her.

I like how even the house is transformed for her in the end: "When I closed the door I didn't feel the relief of the cool rooms, the wooden staircase, the walled garden, the old mosaics and high ceilings." She can no longer even depend on the light as it flickers when she turns on the lamp...

Marc says: I like how even the house is transformed for her in the end: 'When I closed the door I didn't feel the relief of the cool rooms, the wooden staircase, the walled garden, the old mosaics and high ceilings. She can no longer even depend on the light as it flickers when she turns on the lamp...'

Yes. I wrote a thesis on inanimate objects in fiction and their use in revealing tone, mood, meaning. It really is a master stroke to put these objects in a different light.

One of the gothic panelists last weekend said if the MC is somehow dominant socially, or economically, they would have to become disoriented and cast down in some way to truly evoke the gothic. Though she is somewhat of an outsider socially, she can no longer claim status or confidence by the end. Her status or confidence may even have been false or naive.

Great close read.

Marc wrote: "And it was so disturbing when the mom yells back "I gave them to him!""
Yeah, that really bothered me as well. I found the whole story disturbing in a number of ways, which is very unusual for me.

Thanks for the links on Pomba Gira etc!

I'm pausing the collection for a bit (working on My Volcano), but will chime in as we continue this great conversation. So no need to jump to "The Neighbor's Courtyard" (unless you really want to, of course).

Margaret wrote: "I attended a fantasy and science fiction conference this past weekend. There was an excellent panel on gothic literature. A couple of themes were discussed that more or less appear here:..."

Very interesting. In the earlier Literary Horror forum thread that led to this buddy read, there was some question whether Enriquez's work was gothic. Now that I'm rereading these stories, I'd say "The Dirty Kid", and a number of the others, certainly are.

Moving forward a bit, I did not find "The Inn" as compelling as "The Dirty Kid," "The Intoxicated Years" and "Adela's House." The "horror" of it didn't grip me as much perhaps because I felt it lacked a setup and follow through. But much stands out to me about "The Intoxicated Years," particularly this kind of coven of girls who, enamored by a badass wraith of the forest, seek to emulate her, taking it to its darkest extreme. In "Adela's House," I was particularly struck by something that comes in the middle, a devasting event that breaks frame with the narrative: (view spoiler)[The brother commits suicide years later. (hide spoiler)]The outcomes and the details of the house the young characters are solely privy to are devasting.

A curious question... I have read some stories/books considered gothic and I have a vague notion of what that entails, but how is one's reading of Enríque's stories affected by viewing them through the Gothic lens? I mean, does it change how you approach them or does her breaking/stretching any such categorical boundaries impact your reading personally?

Margaret, that actually sounds like a thesis worth reading!

THE INN
Felt like this story underwhelmed a bit without my sharing the national trauma over the police the author and native readers might better understand (almost like the way a black person or minority might feel about so-called routine traffic stops in America). It did lead me to an interesting interview where Enríquez discusses her approach and influences. https://lithub.com/mariana-enriquez-o... (I'm just sharing these because I found them interesting; don't feel obligated to check them out or comment on them.)

INTOXICATED YEARS
There's kind of a nihilistic youth destructiveness to this story that feels held together by a sort of feminist bent (in that the male characters are extraneous, a means to an end, a perceived threat to the bond amongst the girls, and/or disposable). Disassociated alcohol- and drug-induced blurring of reality filling in the void left without spiritual or cultural rituals (I might be stretching this one a bit; more a gut feeling that something I can put into words or pull from her text). Just me?

ADELA'S HOUSE
I think this one is my favorite so far and I can't really say why. It captures something about youth and the pull towards darkness/danger and I seem to like houses that aren't what they seem. This trio of younger characters and their dynamic really seems to work well for this story.

Nominations for May's monthly read? Please share here:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...

Marc, thanks for the link to the very interesting lithub interview.

The interviewer David Leo Rice sounds like an interesting fellow too. I'll look into his work as well.

By the way, there's another Enriquez collection, translated and published after this one. It contains earlier stories that are less impressive than the best pieces in Things We Lost...

I found "An Invocation of The Big-Eared Runt" a terrifying read. And my fear wasn't as much concerning the murderer whose gruesomeness seemed to lie within the realm of extreme abnormal psychology, but with the situation the MC willingly enters as a tour guide. I found it an interesting commentary on this sick fascination we have with "true crime" which seems to be somewhat universal. The story made an overt reference to a dark side to the bourgeois European hopefuls and I think "going on a tour" and indulging in something like this in any country, including the U.S. may also be the entertainments of those with the means to indulge.

(view spoiler)[When we learn of the crimes right up front and the nature of the murderer, I thought, well, how interesting is this story going to be? But when the ghost of the murderer shows up on the tour sometimes unpredictably, that's when it really starts to go off the rails.

Enriquez doesn't give us time to get comfortable for the indulgence of the fright. I find myself extremely uncomfortable, and even more so, of course, when we learn of the MC's anger toward his wife and child and the worsening of his relationship with them. And this is what is the most frightening thing.

Enriquez makes this look easy, but this layering and deft timing is very hard. In just a few pages, the debonair, smart, upwardly mobile tour guide is in his infant son's room, holding a nail in his hand.

The MC is also an unreliable third-person point-of-view character. Is it the wife who is the issue? Or is it his insane talk of murderers? Truly, truly deft and chilling. (hide spoiler)]

Marc: "A curious question... I have read some stories/books considered gothic and I have a vague notion of what that entails, but how is one's reading of Enríque's stories affected by viewing them through the Gothic lens? I mean, does it change how you approach them or does her breaking/stretching any such categorical boundaries impact your reading personally?"

Marc, I find just knowing more about the category helps my understanding. I don't find it to be all that restrictive a lens, or distorting a one. I find learning about the recognizable trends in this category helps in my reading. And at least for me, I have come to realize most of my favorite books have gothic elements, so it helps me begin to make connections. Also, one thing I find helpful is understanding what kind of considerations are normally taken into account when looking at Gothic for a certain area-ie, Mexican, Argentinian, etc. It helps me to be more aware that I need to understand cultural, historical, political, and socioeconomic contexts.

Oh, wow! What just happened?! This thread exploded while I was away! Nice!

Margaret wrote: "Marc, I wasn't sure of San la Muerte. When I listened to the audio, I thought the narrator was saying Santa Muerte, or some shortened version. Still, I am not sure of the differences between the two other than provenance and that one is male and the other female. Thanks for posting the article links."

The book refers to San La Muerte.

As far as I know, there is nothing written on stone about them.
At least in Ecuador, it is like this:
San La Muerte is a "saint" that has a demonic nature. He is venerated across Latin America and is an skeleton with a black cape and a scythe. You can find, on the other hand, the Santa Muerte (or Niña Blanca - White Girl) in yellow for good luck, in red for love, in green to open new paths in your life, in yellow for good luck or in gold for money. Of course, also in black for demonic rituals.

Hi from Croatia :) I have read this one last year and I loved every single story! I love how raw and immersive they are, and how uneasy they made me feel. I had to stop and reflect after each story. Also I love that the endings are not all wrapped up completely, but left to the reader's imagination.

Spiderweb
A story about missing people. Something which is an every day problem in Latin America.
What I like about the story is how the main character, her sister, her family (and the reader too) only want the husband to disappear, to go away, nobody wants him there.
It is funny to see that in the night, after she listens to all the horror stories, she somehow is influenced by them so that she gets scared when she doesn't find the husband the next day.
Finally, he just left her, she should be happy, right? I loved seeing her emotional distress. Exactly how we feel after listening to horror stories.

End of Term
I see two things that I consider horror in this one.
First, the horror comes from the eyes of the narrator. She remembers this ugly, strange girl. She feels horrified about how she looked and the things she did. She tells us about the bullying done to this girl.
Second, the end, is it a demon that talks to one girl and then to the other? Or is it a story about girls who cut themselves because they don't fit in?

No Flesh Over Our Bones
Another story that highlights ugliness. The narrator keeps referring to her boyfriend as fat. The sentences hint that as he is fat, he is also lazy, he makes no money.
But, what is the story really about? For the narrator, Vera is the reflection of all that is beautiful. Is she crazy? Or is the Enriquez trying to say something else to us? One sentence reads: "We all walk on bones, it's a matter of making deep holes and reaching the dead covered." What does this mean? This has nothing to do with craziness. She is actually telling us something about how we should all deal with our inner demons. The narrator is trying to fix Vera and find more bones to make her whole. Does this mean she feels dead inside and is trying to find a way to feel whole again?

Marina wrote: "Also I love that the endings are not all wrapped up completely, but left to the reader's imagination."

I liked that too. I felt free to give each story my own ending and also I felt free to give it my own explanations.

The Neighbor's Courtyard

I liked this one a lot. I don't know what to think about it yet.
Is there an underlying message in this story?

Finally, we see how the guilt is devouring Paula. Miguel doesn't support her, he is embarrassed about her depression. This adds a load on her back too. She has the feeling she needs redemption and this will come once she helps the boy next door. But, redemption doesn't come. The end is so horrible. I felt helpless.

Under the Black Water

A great piece about fanaticism! A good gothic story that takes place in a secluded dark place that reflects the decadence of its inhabitants and abandonment of the police and health institutions.
This story reminded me of an interview with Enriquez in which she mentioned that these tales are realistic with a little supernatural, but for her, the police, poverty, violence, men are more cause of fear that anything supernatural. I think the black water somehow represents the evil and the corruption surrounding the town.
Pinat's senses warn her that something is about to happen but, she continues. She is the typical heroine. She wants and has to help.
(view spoiler)[At the end, she finds something like a new demon that has come back from the black water and is something like a new god for the forgotten town. A god that fits to the reality of said town. It is actually a hopeful ending for that story. Pinat doesn't understand it because she doesn't belong... (hide spoiler)]

Green Red Orange

Not one of my favorites. It is horror because it is too close to reality.

Things we lost in the fire

Again a story about ugliness. It was devastating to read this one. Even when the women were burning themselves, the root of the problem (the macho ways, the macho mentality) is not eradicated. Women have to hurt themselves to be free. I am just out of words. It is too painful.

Vavita wrote: "Marina wrote: "Also I love that the endings are not all wrapped up completely, but left to the reader's imagination."

I liked that too. I felt free to give each story my own ending and also I felt..."

I love Enriquez's endings as well!