Through the Night Like a Snake
in a nutshell: 10 stories from Latin America that evoke 10 quite distinct shades of the eerie. We've got potential possessions, we got cults, we've got escaped killer neighbors, we've got disorienting time warps fueled by family drama, we even got a dubiously extant alien and a human-sized vulture who might just be a good bird after all... maybe. Oh, and nuns! Nuns with charming smiles and secret plans, what more could one ask for?
main themes: Anthologies can be such a mixed bag, but this was a very solid, hearty collection. Each story seems like a slice from a different cake, but all the cakes come from the same bakery, and each one fills but unsettles your stomach in a unique way. All the characters were engaging, and everyone stayed with me after I ate their whole slice. No gore, shock, or cheap thrills-- these authors clutch at what is human in the reader, and rattle it to set you off-balance and leave you delightfully perturbed.
the vibes: While the authors are all from Latin America, that is a massive amount of ground to cover. Some stories touch on distinctly LatAm experiences: migrant working families struggling to build a life, the every day horrors of growing up in a society trying to grow past its recent dictatorship, women with little agency and deep needs turning to magic. But while most of the tales might not be strictly, uniquely LatAm, each character, environment, and atmosphere is undoubtedly infused with LatAm colors and undeniably borne from the continent's literary traditions and peoples' histories.
the writing: There was no way I wasn't going to buy this book with the insane collective pedigree boasted on the back: Mariana Enriquez, Monica Ojeda, Claudia Hernandez, Camila Sosa Villada and more? Sign me up, in blood. No disappointments here, every name I didn't recognize before is also now on my literary radar.
Soroche
I immediately turned to my girl Monica's story Soroche first, and was rewarded with a sinisterly charming group of adult women narrating, in turns, what happened on their hike into the Andes and their one friend who... well, they all have a different take on what she did.
Ojeda perfectly writes women and their relationships to each other: subtle, between-the-lines, sly and sisterly, critical but caring, always with hints of admiration and just a little jealousy. The voices of the women are so believable and fleshed out, in such a short amount of time. You absolutely know this woman who would start with "We've always been best friends." and sentences later admit "Sometimes I fantasize about popping her implants. Don't get me wrong, I adore her! But God clearly still has lessons to teach her." Within their deviating recollections of The Incident, Ojeda paints their group dynamics so clearly, the reader will end up with conflicting beliefs about just what happened in the mountains. Delicious.
House of Compassion
Flor, a travesti sex worker defiantly eeking out an existence on the harsh Cordoba pampas, is as vibrant and lively as characters come. Within one scene, this rascal of a lady has stolen your heart. Despite her impoverished upbringing, she has navigated a truly fucked-up childhood and scant opportunities to craft herself into a survivor who will take no shit. When an encounter with some johns goes sideways and she barely escapes with her life, she wakes up rescued by a group of odd but seemingly well-meaning nuns. Cloistered away in their convent, she struggles to regain her health while slowly uncovering the strange secrets these nuns are hiding.
I was so very grateful I got to share this story with my book club, as everyone had so many insights and thoughts about the story and its takes on gender, salvation, and monsters. As mentioned before, this collection is rich with details and characters that will stick under your ribs and haunt you for days after you put the book down. If you can find this killer, prismatic little collection, definitely pick it up!
