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Sunday, January 31, 2021

Screen to Scream: Crimson Peak and Mexican Gothic

There are so many haunted house stories out there, I wonder if, in these horror universes, there isn’t a subdivision of real estate that deals specifically with haunted homes (The realtor, smiling, says, “this house is located next to some great schools, the mall, and there’s a convenient Hellmouth in the basement”). That said, there are still people getting more mileage out of this trope, even doubling down into the trappings of Gothic storytelling: large, imposing mansion; odd, secretive characters that may or may not be antagonists, and bad weather (fog, rain, etc.). Guillermo Del Toro’s film Crimson Peak, for example, leans heavily into its Gothic roots, complete with that Del Toro aesthetic, but there are also books like Silvia Moreno-Garcia’sMexican Gothic that are willing to take the Gothic haunted house tale in new and exciting directions.

Crimson Peak is a visually breathtaking film, a literal Gothic tale come to life that can be genuinely scary. The story of Edith Cushing, a young woman who falls for an marries young eccentric Sir Thomas Sharp, is one familiar to many fans of the genre. All the basics are there, from an obtrusive, menacing sister who resents Edith’s presence to a notable physical location, the eponymous Crimson Peak, a mountain stained by its red clay (symbolism). Add a decrepit mansion with a hole in its center (MORE SYMBOLISM!) and you have all the ingredients there, but focused through the lens of Del Toro’s vision, such as his depictions of the ghosts that haunt this place, the movie becomes a sprawling, gorgeously odd movie.

Mexican Gothic is a different kind of story. Yes, there are the basic elements: slightly naïve but plucky heroine, sprawling family mansion that’s mostly isolated, creepy and off-putting family. However, Moreno-Garcia doesn’t rely on a visual aesthetic to draw readers in, instead using well-developed characters and descriptions to captivate readers. Noemi Taboada is more than just a heroine who finds herself suddenly over her head in a mansion far from her social circles. Noemi is a young woman with her own motivations and fears, one who realizes that her status as a woman and a socialite often has many of those she encounters pigeonholing her, even as she slowly discovers who she is and what she is truly capable of by delving into the mystery of High Place. High Place itself becomes more than just a house as Moreno-Garcia’s descriptions go beyond making High Place a metaphorical antagonistic setting and actually cast it as a living, even malevolent, organism. Both movie and book are familiar with the Gothic tradition, but they both find their emotional power by upending these traditions.

Have You Read This? Boneset & Feathers by Gwendolyn Kiste

 

Many readers are familiar with the “coming-of-age” narrative, but there is a different narrative that is typically prevalent in the superhero genre. I like to call it “coming into power.” That power can be the ability to move objects with your mind or cause them to spontaneously combust, but it is also a realization of one’s identity, one’s agency in their own fate, and one’s responsibility to others. A modern superhero example is Spider-Man, who went from pro wrestler to superhero after his inaction helped cause the death of his beloved Uncle Ben. A similar plotline moves through Gwendolyn Kiste’s latest book of witches and self-discovery Boneset & Feathers.

Just to clarify, the story has nothing to do with superheroes. The main character Odette is a witch, but she’s not the kind that flies to places on brooms or casts fireballs at her enemies. In truth, Odette seems very afraid of her magic, not just because of what it can do but what it can attract. Odette’s world if full of Witchfinders, men who make those involved in the Salem Witch Trials seem like choir boys, and Odette escaped them last time only because she did not burn. The rest of her village wasn’t so lucky. The village she used to call home now fears her and the magic she refuses to use is demanding to be used, and this coincides with the Witchfinders returning to Odette’s village to finish what they started.

It’s tempting to call this book a historical fantasy novel, but it almost takes place in another world, one where witchcraft and forest spirits are more prevalent and sometimes malevolent. However, the main theme of this novel is familiar for those fans of books like X-Men, where the protagonists discover the powers they have are not necessarily curses but can be channeled into positive pursuits, including helping others. Other appeal terms that this novel brings up are “female empowerment” and “self-actualization.” One of the big appeals of this book is watching the young witch Odette learning about the power that lives within her and coming to terms with it. Many readers, I think, will want to observe Odette make this journey of “coming into power” as well.


Have You Read This? The Southern Book Club Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

 


The vampire has been used so many times in fiction that it probably deserves its own section in Barnes and Noble (at the very least, it deserves a few displays). What began with Varney and Dracula has now expanded to the vampire infecting different genres from action to westerns to romance. Heck, there's probably an Amish vampire novel out there somewhere. So to take the vampire as your story's main villain and make that story stand out is an accomplishment, one that Grady Hendrix has done in his latest The Southern Book Club Guide to Slaying Vampires. 

Patricia Campbell is a housewife who has devoted herself to her family and her household, but she had found fulfillment in those to be lacking. With her ungrateful kids and distant husband, the only comfort in Patricia's life is a bookclub focusing on true crime. So when a stranger enters their neighborhood, and strange things start happening in her neighborhood, Patricia begins to suspect this stranger, charismatic James Harris, is cut from the same cloth as Bundy or Dahmer, but the truth is much more sinister and his grip on the community is much more difficult to pry loose. 

I can imagine the elevator pitch for this book being, "Okay, it's Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but replace the Scooby Gang with the cast from Steel Magnolias." However, Grady Hendrix has shown time and again that he can create a truly resonant story out of a pretty wacky premise. Yes, this book has some gory moments, some funny moments, and even some comedic gory moments, but Hendrix never forgets the emotional core of this story, the friendship that unites these women. And James Harris is more than just the slavering monster; Hendrix makes him not only evil but also magnetic. It doesn't take him long to burrow into the community and make himself at home, even as the deaths pile up in a low-income area that borders the book club's. The book manages to discuss disparity between classes, suburban banality, and dreams deferred thanks to adult obligations, all in a story about Dracula invading a Southern suburb.