Mexican Gothic Review

We’re well into October, and that means pumpkin spice, a new “Haunting of…”, potential costumes clogging up my notes, and, of course, spooky books.

This has been everywhere the past month, fittingly because it’s Latinx Heritage Month and October. Since I posted about picking it for book club, I’ve joined 2 discussion groups on Bookstagram and a text thread. By Halloween, I fully expect to have a PhD in Mexican Gothic.

In 1950s Mexico, 22-year-old Noemí Taboada is pulled away from a life of parties, noncommittal flirtations, and ever-changing plans for university by a concerning letter from her cousin. Having recently been whisked away to the countryside by a handsome Englishman, Catalina makes disturbing claims about her new husband and home. Hoping to avoid the scandal of divorce and/or a hysterical niece, Noemí’s father sends her to investigate High Place.

On arrival, Noemí finds a desolate manor, whose doors have been locked to all but a few outsiders since the closure of the town’s mines; a strange, but ravaging, illness; and a horrific family tragedy that’s still spoken of in whispers. As stifling rules, strange dreams, and a sinister (read: racist) patriarch bring Noemí’s state of mind closer to Catalina’s, she begins to suspect the lonely house and its lonely inhabitants aren’t necessarily alone there.

I’m far from the first to say it, but Silvia Moreno-Garcia is an expert at weaving the recognizably gothic elements of books like Jane Eyre and The Turn of the Screw into a setting less represented by “classic” gothic literature. Instead of distracting from High Place’s creepiness, the fact that cars, (relative) female empowerment, and the promise of university are only a train ride away makes Noemí and Catalina’s plight all the more urgent. And I loved seeing this story take place in an old English mansion in Mexico rather than one in, you know, England.

In Noemí, I found all of Jane Eyre’s tenacity (and then some), with none of the drab fashion (does she have an Instagram I can follow?). Though upsetting, her “attraction” to Virgil was a fascinating element I haven’t seen before and brought a new layer of danger to the story.

One of my favorite things about the book was how it depicted trauma. Despite the supernatural elements, the characters’ reactions are grounded and human, so, even if they’re haunted by family ghosts and questionable fungi, it’s easy to understand them as having gone through relationship, marital, and/or family abuse. To that end (not to spoil anything), I found the last paragraph to be particularly poignant.

I give the fourth Book In My Basket 4/5 stars.