A review by storytold
Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

3.5

3.5, rounding up because I really enjoyed the front 2/3 — a great premise, methodically and generally competently executed. I have only read two books from this author, both this year. I frequently hear about Silvia Moreno-Garcia that her prose is sublime and will blow you away; and maybe it's because I listened to both in audio, which does negatively impact my appreciation of prose—I would like to reread this physically someday, in part because I think Virgil's narration in particular may have undermined my reading of the text—but, though I have noticed a handful of turns of phrase that convince me Moreno-Garcia is a skilled writer, I have not been blown away in my sample size of two. My main complaints about this book have to do with stilted dialogue and undermined themes, though I generally really enjoyed Noemi, who was vibrant and a great foil to the setting and themes of the book.

While there is also no doubt in my mind that Moreno-Garcia is technically excellent with craft, there lacked a depth of character motivation and development for me that negatively affected my investment. The first two acts of the book are a great take on gothic horror; familiar tropes were executed with fresh interest. The pacing really worked for me in these parts. But as Noemi got closer to understanding what was happening in that house, my enjoyment started to slip. This is partly personal preference, but partly because the ending goes against the themes of the book IMO? Extensive expansion on this beneath the cut.

SpoilerFirst, pettily: dreams rarely work for me as a genre device. I think taking things out of the real world and into a separate, only sort of real world is a peculiar element to introduce to a book leaning so heavily on "the horrors of colonialism and patriarchy are not the stuff of madness" commentary. More egregiously, though, I could not have been less convinced of the Francis romance. I didn't hate Francis as a character, and I thought his presence raised some really interesting questions that I wished had been teased out yet more than they were. How culpable is he? The book wants us to believe not at all, but this ending seems to fly in the face of the oft-lauded feminist themes of the book; the most tension I felt in the back third was waiting for Francis, having lulled Noemi into false security, to turn on her at the last minute. But Francis... like Catalina????... was a victim... too.

I wasn't sure what to think of the fact that all the real characters of Mexican Gothic are wealthy, Noemi included, while the impoverished are effectively ghosts and plot devices. But it's quite interesting to consider this when we zoom in on Noemi, because—empowered by her money—she begins from a relative position of authority and confidence. Throughout the book she slowly realizes, even if she can blend (if uncomfortably) into the backdrop of whiteness and colonialism, that she is still being methodically disempowered throughout the book, which of course is the real source of horror.

I say it's interesting, but it raises questions about what Moreno-Garcia wants us to take away from the book. The themes, particularly around sex—rape, forced marriage, forced reproduction, coercive desire, and so on—help to contextualize why this is often called feminist gothic horror. And yet Noemi ultimately gains the power she needs to leave the house... by marrying Francis? The marriage she was coerced into... with one among the colonizing family... is good actually? Wait... hang on. It says here that the moral of the story is LOVE IS REAL?

I'm so confused by this that I think I must have to read this on paper to see if I failed to pick up on the important subtext that this marriage is the sinister element of the house that has left with them. To reiterate: I get it. Francis was a victim too. He didn't want to be there. Getting married... liberated... them both? I'm not buying that more in the context of this book. Maybe that's unfair. It's a historical setting. Marriage obviously frees Noemi from her father in certain respects, which has very much been the utility of marriage for a long-ass time. But I would have loved to see them part as friends, or at least acquaintences, who lived through something harrowing together and exchange letters every two years. 

Both this book AND The Death of Jane Lawrence ended in happily ever after. I'm not read in the classics generally let alone the gothic classics; I haven't read either Wuthering Heights nor Jane Eyre. Now I'm wondering if it's the influences they're drawn from and the commentary on marriage as freedom or imprisonment. Love and its trappings makes for good horror and gothic tropes in and of itself, and I was into it in the front portion; I thought Rebecca did this well—Rebecca, which importantly ended on the flames. But to end on "this coercive marriage seems fine ultimately, love is real" confused me so much. I wanted Noemi to hold hands with her cousin and ditch this sleepy guy the second they collectively escaped, if indeed he escaped at all. What are they going to spend their coerced marriage doing together now, throwing money at the problem? The book's very last lines will stay with me for a long time because prosaically they worked really nicely, but thematically they confused me SO much.

I'm open to the idea that I'm wrong. I did look up sparknotes on Francis' character just to make sure I didn't miss anything crucial. Without doubt, I'll be thinking about this book for a long time.

In short: good gothic tropes that worked for me, and I enjoyed Noemi, but I wanted a different ending; this may be a me problem. I will read more from this author, but I might cross genre and see how that goes.