Disturbing, strange, gross, absurd—there are many ways to categorize Moshfegh's medieval allegory, but honestly, it defies both categorization and attDisturbing, strange, gross, absurd—there are many ways to categorize Moshfegh's medieval allegory, but honestly, it defies both categorization and attempts to review. Which I think is the point? This book is like a void, it's the black hole pulling in everything in sight and then shrugging and saying, "oh, you wanted this to mean something? Sucker."
Sure, it has a plot, but getting hung up on the grotesque details of what happens and how awful it all is and how stupid and terrible the characters are is really just a distraction. There is a quote that struck me as the thesis for the book:
"Lispeth stood up and readied herself for the game. Clod was busy burning the portraits he'd drawn in the fire in the hearth at the other end of the great room—Villiam didn't like to hold on to his portraits. Pleasure and fun were not cumulative, he believed. Everything had to be done again and again for it to have any worth. All that mattered was the matter at hand."
To me, this book felt like a condemnation. It's Moshfegh, spitting in the face of expectation and scoffing at those that claim to understand and lord themselves with the ability to judge any book or author's or other creative's worth. It's all a facade, a construct, right? Whose standards are the ones that matter if everyone can be a critic? And what is the point of all that anyway?
Even writing this is me walking willingly into the void. Needing to make meaning is perhaps an ultimate human flaw....more
"Tell me, if the Language isn't power, then what is?"
Two women intertwine in this book that is steeped in the traditions and culture of Mexico: Felici"Tell me, if the Language isn't power, then what is?"
Two women intertwine in this book that is steeped in the traditions and culture of Mexico: Feliciana is an old woman who has spent her life as a healer, a curandera, taking on what was generally considered work for men (curanderos). She tells her story to Zoe, a journalist who finds her while looking to report on a murder, and in alternating chapters, Zoe shares her story too, one that has many parallels with Feliciana's despite their different backgrounds. The murder that Zoe is sent to investigate is that of Paloma, a bruja who is Muxe—the third gender as recognized by the indigenous Mazatec people. Paloma is such an interesting character that I sometimes wished the story had been centered around her more; as is, she is relegated to the sidelines.
Place is almost like a third main character in this book, the settings of the rural Oaxacan mountains and bustling, modern Mexico City weaving together the intertwining narratives. The book explores the devastating effects of colonialism in Mexico; changing cultural norms, influence, and expectations; issues of identity and gender; sexual violence and oppression; and more.
What captivated me about this book is how Feliciana spoke about her magical work with herbs and mushrooms as a language, how the Language spoke or sang to her and was a part of her when she did her healing. It felt to me that part of the message was about literal language as something that we can use to heal ourselves, whether it's through finding the right words to describe ourselves and our gender expression, singing in times of grief or joy, or even reading books. Language is its own kind of magic.
There is also a wonderful note from the translator that really helped me center and consider the language as I was reading. As she wrote: "Every translation is thick with linguistic choices that carry political and aesthetic implications." I also learned in the note that the character of Feliciana was inspired loosely by Maria Sabina, a Mazatec curandera whose work centered around ritual healing with medicinal plants. She became a bit of a celebrity in the US and Europe and was known as "the priestess of mushrooms" due to an ethnobotanist publishing info that he learned from her about hallucinogenic mushrooms—for better or (mostly) for worse. The book definitely sent me down a rabbit hole to learn more about this incredible woman!...more
A folk horror novella that centers on a small town and the ugly secret behind its perfect facade.
With chapters that alternate between the present (FayA folk horror novella that centers on a small town and the ugly secret behind its perfect facade.
With chapters that alternate between the present (Faye running through the forest, trying to escape her hometown with her infant son) and the past (what happened before she flees), this one keeps you turning pages—I just wanted to know what was going to happen to Faye and her son! The back-and-forth also gives you time to slowly understand the scope of the story, which incorporates a dark fantastical mindset alongside the very real horrors of postpartum depression and fear for the life of one's child.
There are some definite cultish vibes here, in the sense of Shirley Jackson's "The Lottery" or Harvest Home, where an idyllic veneer covers a dark truth and those who benefit from it are willing to ignore the grotesque reality. For me, Faye's time in the forest felt a bit repetitive and I wish that the story could have focused more on the events of the climax, which come a bit out of nowhere and are too neatly tied up at the end.
Overall, this is a strong, emotive debut that reveals Quigley as a new voice in horror fiction.
My thanks to the publisher for my review copy of this one....more
Audra (ouija.reads)
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Books:
trope-witches
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