Across two different time periods, two women confront fear, loneliness, mortality, and a haunting yearning that will not let them rest. A breakout, genre-blurring novel from one of the most exciting new voices of Latin America’s feminist Gothic.
It is the twilight of Europe’s bloody bacchanals, of murder and feasting without end. In the nineteenth century, a vampire arrives from Europe to the coast of Buenos Aires and, for the second time in her life, watches as villages transform into a cosmopolitan city, one that will soon be ravaged by yellow fever. She must adapt, intermingle with humans, and be discreet.
In present-day Buenos Aires, a woman finds herself at an impasse as she grapples with her mother's terminal illness and her own relationship with motherhood. When she first encounters the vampire in a cemetery, something ignites within the two women—and they cross a threshold from which there’s no turning back.
With echoes of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and written in the vein of feminist Gothic writers like Shirley Jackson, Daphne du Maurier, and Carmen Maria Machado, Thirst plays with the boundaries of genre while exploring the limits of female agency, the consuming power of desire, and the fragile vitality of even the most immortal of creatures.
Marina Yuszczuk nació en Quilmes (1978), pero vivió toda su vida en Bahía Blanca, donde estudió Letras y participó del proyecto Cooperativa Editora el Calamar, con el que publicó Guía práctica de las mariposas en 2004.
En 2011 recibió una beca nacional del Fondo Nacional de las Artes.
had me at queer literary vampires, lost me at everything else.
i think that what this book needed to work for me was a stunning writing style.
without it, it felt kind of adolescent and silly, ungrounded. none of these characters felt real — the only thing that felt real was the city of buenos aires.
if you're reading a book about a 16th century vampire lady falling in instalove with a 21st century single mother ready to leave her son to live in a mausoleum, i at least need to feel like something is believable. even if that's the writing being nice.
instead this just felt overwrought and goofy.
bottom line: brb fleeing to the nearest graveyard home.
Está muy divertida! Me pareció genial que MY se animara a hacer una novela de género, y le salió muy buena! Entretenida, y lleva el vampirismo a un lugar actual y bien escrito, las dos historias que cuenta están buenas, y cuando se juntan es tremendo final. Me la devoré en un par de sentadas, la combinación Buenos Aires-Cementerio de Recoleta- historia-vampiros, me pareció imbatible.
Vampires – especially queer ones – are my jam. There are so many topics that can be well discussed through a vampiric lens which makes them endlessly fascinating. This one primarily focuses on death.
In the first half of Thirst we follow an unnamed vampire as she tries to find her place in an ever-evolving world that is becoming increasingly hostile towards vampires. After a particularly brutal event during the beginning of the nineteenth century it becomes obvious that the hunters are finally becoming the hunted, so she immigrates from Europe to Buenos Aires with the hope of finding a place for herself as a vampire. With the urbanization of any city comes widespread epidemic, especially in the nineteenth century. Amidst outbreaks of The Yellow Fever, death thrives and so does the vampire, but as death starts to become less prevalent and the epidemics calm down, the vampire senses that her place is going to be disrupted again.
This part of the book is fast-paced and violent. There is an animalistic nature to our unnamed vampire that modern vampire stories tend to stray away from. The only thing that fuels her is her insatiable thirst for blood. There is no thought of anything except that thirst as she seduces her victims. I loved being in the mind of the vampire and found it so intriguing. Her mind is her urges, and she does some brutal things to satiate herself but is never satisfied. All of this occurs under the beautiful gothic backdrop of nineteenth century Buenos Aires. As decades pass by in a haze, the author introduces some interesting historical events and landmarks that show how the world is changing. This part is fast paced and spans decades. The ending is abrupt but makes sense and closes off the era of vampires well.
The second half takes place in modern day Buenos Aires and we follow a woman dealing with the grief of her mother’s terminal illness as she takes care of her young son. The juxtaposition of life and death along with the symbolism of the vampire was well done her. Death and rebirth is a major theme in this part and it’s a lot slower, told in diary entries spanning a few months. The difference between these parts is quite jarring and almost disorienting to the reader. The stench of death still reeks but in an incredibly different way as our narrator watches her mother lose control of her whole body, knowing the end is near. While it was clear how the stories would weave together, I found it done in a quite abrupt way that didn’t feel natural. The ending left me a bit empty and kind of upset, but in a “why did you do that?” way instead of a fun way. It is still an interesting study on death and grief and rebirth.
There is a very big distinction between these books in terms of tone and pacing, so much so that these could’ve easily been two separate books. While it is a bit jarring, it shows how disorienting it can be to be lurched into the twenty-first century. Overall, the vibes were there for this book but parts of it just felt a bit flat. It’s still an interesting one to pick up. I will say that while I saw this advertised as “sapphic vampires” that feels like mismarketing. This isn’t a romance, it is a literary fiction that studies death, don’t expect much in terms of any time of relationship.
This is Yuszczuk’s first book that has been translated into English and I will be interested to see what comes next.
A novel told in two parts always worries me because the fragmentation usually leads to one part being superior to its counterpart in my experience. This is no exception. The beginning is an artful exploration of well trodden vampiric lore and tropes. Our narrator Alma’s personal odyssey over the centuries from prey to predator was captivating. Her bloodlust and wild trail of carnage was a visceral delight to experience as grotesque as it was. Simplistic yet charming prose and rich characterization made part one shine. In contrast the second part is about a single mother beefing with her baby daddy, taking care of her ailing mother and skulking around cemeteries arbitrarily. The way these dual narratives intersect was absurd and rushed us towards an almost embarrassing conclusion to an otherwise delightfully told story.
Hace tanto quería leer este libro, pero ni me imaginaba que lo iba a adorar tanto. No soy muy fana de la temática vampírica, pero me pareció una historia de lo más interesante, con una estructura que invita a que no dejes de leerlo en ningún momento. Está dividido en dos partes: mi favorita fue la primera, donde nos narra la perspectiva de una vampira que emigra y llega a Buenos Aires en busca de inocentes víctimas para atacar. No tengo mucho más por agregar, ya que le hice una videoreseña al libro, la cual pueden visitar si quieren saber un poco más.
Deliciously lush with its descriptions, Thirst is a quiet, gothic vampire tale written by an Argentinian author following two women, from two different time periods, both overwhelmed with a loneliness and desire that consumes them whole.
Despite this novel primarily being composed of internal monologues heavy with introspection, it demanded my attention through its stunning prose and take on a traditional vampire story.
While I do think part one was stronger and more interesting than the latter half, I still had a great time with this meditative historical novel and would highly recommend this to those who are the same type of reader.
A productive tool for critiquing aspects of human existence from capitalist institutions to notions of cultural contamination, the vampire’s frequently implicated in a broader struggle between good and evil: either in wider society, as in Stoker’s Dracula; or as internal conflict, as in Angel and Rice’s Interview with the Vampire. Marina Yuszczuk’s equally intent on exploiting the vampire’s symbolic potential but not in reinforcing traditional moral binaries. Despite the gothic trappings, Yuszczuk’s representation of the vampiric harks back to the worldview of the nineteenth-century Decadent movement. Yusczuk’s far more interested in the vampire as a vehicle for reflections on mortality, bodily decay, instinct versus repression. It’s tempting to interpret Yusczuk’s piece as a response to Covid but it was actually written between 2017 and 2019, when Yuszczuk was caught up in the aftermath of witnessing her mother’s protracted illness and subsequent death. For Yuszczuk, horror fiction became a means of saying the unsayable, of processing immense loss.
Yuszczuk’s carefully-crafted piece opens with an oblique assessment of cultural attitudes towards mourning, constructed via an encounter with Buenos Aires’s famous La Recoleta Cemetery. She then moves back in time to the nineteenth-century, experienced from the perspective of an unnamed vampire. A young girl from a remote European village, she was handed over to a Dracula-like master by her mother, one of many such sacrifices to appease this dangerous creature. Post transformation, the vampire closely resembles one of Stoker’s nameless female vampires. Like them she lives with her “sister” vampires in the recesses of their master’s castle, locked into his patriarchal world, feeding only on prey he deigns to provide. But a chain of events leaves the vampire alone. Cut adrift, forced to fend for herself, circumstances lead her to developing city Buenos Aires. A place soon overwhelmed by an epidemic of deadly Yellow Fever. But as this ebbs, the city becomes embroiled in the pursuit of modernity and evolving scientific methods for tracking criminals leave the vampire vulnerable, out of step with this new world. So, she takes a drastic decision to escape this emerging reality.
The second half shifts the action to contemporary Buenos Aires and recently-divorced Alma. Alma’s recovering from major surgery, juggling a demanding job with caring for a small child, and grappling with her mother’s rapid decline. Her mother has an unspecified condition – most likely an aggressive form of Motor Neurone Disease – causing a creeping paralysis which will eventually kill her. Like the vampire, Alma’s alienated and increasingly isolated. But the vampire’s very existence was an embrace of pain and bodily degeneration; she inhabited a Buenos Aires where death was a public as much as a private spectacle. Alma’s situation is vastly different, demanding a retreat into silence and denial. In Alma’s Buenos Aires dying and grief are private affairs, she’s beset by unspoken expectations requiring her to downplay her emotions. There’s no socially-sanctioned outlet for Alma’s anguish, illness and death are sanitised, hidden away behind closed doors. Even the medical professionals overseeing her mother’s case refuse to be direct, instead they trade in infantilising euphemisms. Moreover, Argentina’s pervasive Catholicism robs Alma’s mother of bodily autonomy, closing off any possibility of a dignified death. Yuszcuzk’s comparison between Alma’s era and the vampire’s heyday highlights the continued precarity of existence, a contemporary world that’s as brutal as the past, it’s just that that brutality’s taken on new guises.
As Alma’s story unfolds, multiple points of overlap between the vampire’s earlier environment and Alma’s emerge. There’re striking similarities between nineteenth-century necropolitics and those of present-day Buenos Aires, both rife with social inequality, spaces in which some lives have far more value than others. In the vampire’s era, women outside without men were automatically suspect; in Alma’s city a woman living alone, or even entering a bar without a man in tow, is viewed as vulnerable or strange. When Alma and the vampire eventually meet, rather than the vampire reinforcing Alma’s fears she offers an unexpected escape route. Their relationship radically reframes Alma’s ideas about the maternal. For Alma motherhood, both mothering and being mothered, is fraught with anxiety over potential loss and abandonment. But, the growing bond between the vampire and Alma opens up fresh possibilities, a possible resolution to their respective existential predicaments. A means of quenching their overwhelming thirst for lasting connection and intimacy. An intriguing, provocative story; it doesn’t always come together but when it does – as in the sections featuring Alma and her mother – it’s intensely powerful.
Thanks to Netgalley and publisher Scribe for an ARC
Very torn on this one! The writing was absolutely mesmerizing - very atmospheric, very dark. Something didn't fully connect for me, though. I was very fascinated at the beginning at the pov of the vampire, but it quickly got repetitious and there was very little motivation or explanation behind her actions, which made me simply not care. The second pov was much more interesting, but it felt like a completely different story. The two story lines did come together at the end, but not in a way that I fully believed. I thought I was here for the vampire, but what got me most in the end, were the explorations on grieving for someone who is still there but you cannot fully connect with anymore. It was beautifully done!
For fans of vampires as species! Marina Yuszczuk's Thirst follows in its first part a vampire woman's history and voyage from Europe to Argentina, simultaneously following both places' historical development. Darkly Gothic in tone, this first section ends on a stunningly exasperating moment – a moment which grabbed and kept my undivided attention. Something that didn't happen before because I don't enjoy Gothic very much and even less this whole “aristocrat-vampire” thing.
The second part is set in present day Argentina and focuses on a young mother who needs to manage co-parenting with her ex as well as taking care of her mother who is gradually dying from a neurological disease. Her inheritance will literally open the doors to a very mysterious tomb, an intersection of the two stories and invite bloody danger into her life.
As the Gothic parts didn't really grab, but the overall structure of the story is nevertheless quite ingenious, my rating/review of this book will be very favorable. The second part reads breathlessly. As someone who believes in human autonomy and a supporter of the right to die in dignity, I was thrilled to read a character in the shape of the bedridden mother, who tries to determine her own fate by attempting suicide but survives, and is thus treated as if she were mentally ill. This subject was treated with the necessary criticism. The finale was wonderful, the way the two stories come together adorable and heart warming.
I would read more by Yuszczuk if it were about a motive I personally prefer more.
An evocative read that is ultimately unsatisfying in its execution.
The prose is quite pretty, especially in Part I, which vividly depicts the tumultuous life of a 19th-century vampire lusting for blood and leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. However, Part II fails to deliver a satisfying conclusion, abruptly jumping to the present day and losing the momentum of the first half. The writing here feels stilted and uninspiring, lacking the sorrowful beauty of the first half.
The integration of the two plotlines is awkward, and the plot sometimes reads like a series of disjointed events rather than a cohesive narrative. While vampire enthusiasts will have plenty to sink their teeth into here, this book fell short for me.
My thanks to the public library for providing me with a post-release copy in exchange for a promise that I’ll return it within 14 days. (I did).
This is a translated sapphic literary vampire novel split in two parts.
In the first half we follow a vampire (who has been around since practically the beginning of time) mostly in Buenos Aires in the 1800s. Yellow fever has broken out and she has to figure out how to live in the city undetected.
The second half is set in modern day and follows a woman whose dying mother has passed on a key to an old crypt that she never knew existed.
I LOVED the first half, I was eating it up!! The historical setting was moody and engaging. The MC is so animalistic which had me on my toes because I never knew what she’d do next.
I was less enthralled with the second half as it felt more ordinary, but by the end it was worth it to see the two parts connect.
Thank you to netgalley and the publisher for the free arc in exchange for an honest review!
Me gustó, es una historia bastante clásica de vampiros pero con un buen par de giros de tuerca. Primero y principal, protagonizado por una vampiresa y en Buenos Aires, lo que ya de por sí es un mil. Segundo, la trama histórica se entreteje con la contemporánea, lo que le da un buen toque y la hace interesante. Algunas cositas y actitudes me resultaron un poco incongruentes, y por eso va una estrella menos, pero en general es una novela muy disfrutable.
Thirst is a book I picked up because I happened to fall in love with the cover. I skimmed through it before reading it and I was slightly intimidated - there is very little dialogue in it, but something called me and I decided to go for it. What I found was one of the most stunning prose I’ve ever read and a fantastic book.
This book has two interconnected plot lines that are told in two parts. The first part is a quintessential gothic vampire novel set in early Europe and then Argentina. We follow a young woman who becomes a vampire in a world that lets her act like a wild beast, but then, as Europe modernizes and the world changes, she is forced to become a seductress to feed. This part is the absolute highlight of this book. It’s got all the quiet, sexy, gothic, and scary bits that we love from Dracula and Carmilla, but told from a very honest female vampire perspective (and it’s LGBTQIA+ so you won’t need to deal with any homophobic/misogynistic!). I cannot put into words how beautiful, haunting, and brutal this part was.
Part 2 is set in post-COVID Argentina as a woman copes with the degenerative disease of her mother. Her mother, unable to speak or write, communicates to her two things ‘key’ and ‘no.’ She tells her to not open something with the key and then this woman finds the key. The change to part 2 is very anticlimactic and just beautiful and brutal in a very different way. Whereas Part 1 starts wild and finishes claustrophobic, Part 2 is about grief and then liberation. I did enjoy it slightly less than Part 1, but I think it’s just because Yuszczuk started very strong.
I thought it funny that the structure of this book (part 1 - horror historical fiction and part 2 - contemporary generalish fiction) reminded me of Comemadre by Roque Larraquy, because then I noticed it had the same translator, Heather Cleary. I’m surely going to look up her translations because both books have been quirky, horrific, and just really cool. (Now, don’t ask me why I didn’t read the original in Spanish, I just didn’t notice it was translated into English until it was too late lol).
Just some random bits I highlighted:
“Nothing I do makes sense,” I explained, and for the first time I understood that it was true. “I was dragged into this story; my only freedom is to create.” “To create? By destroying?”
—
“I never thought, in the delirious haze into which I sank,” he said, collapsing onto the sofa, “that when I looked at you, attraction would so eclipse disgust.”
“They could never understand this insatiable thirst. Much less this extraordinary, indomitable instinct for survival, which can only be explained by the fact that we are beasts.”
—gothic —sapphic —horror —vampire —dark and irresistible —historical fiction (set in Buenos Aires)
Thirst was captivating, a story about two women in two different time periods where each fully grasped my attention and the writing was so beautifully done with its smoothness and sensuality.
I read this in one sitting. I started it late morning and finished it in the evening. I could not put it down and it absolutely sucked right in. I did give it 4/5 stars because the second half of the book wasn’t as attention grabbing as the first half and didn’t flow as well. But other than that, this story was completely compelling.
If you’re looking for a sapphic lit fic type story that will have you turning the pages so fast, Thirst is a must add to your TBR.
3.5 estrellas Estuvo bien, me entretuvo y me gustó el estilo de escritura, solo me costó mucho trabajo el cambio de ritmo de la primera a la segunda parte. En la primera, amé ver un Buenos Aires del pasado a través de los ojos de una vampiresa, y aunque no es el relato de vampiros más original, no me molestaron todos los cliches. Sin embargo, cuando la historia salta al tiempo presente (en la segunda parte) el vínculo entre ambos personajes me pareció flojo y sentí que daba para mucho más. Hay reflexiones acerca de la vida/muerte interesantes: el contraste entre una mujer en plena juventud que puede vivir para siempre y el de otra mujer enferma que lo único que quiere es acabar con su vida, sin duda nos hace plantearnos cuestiones rudas como lectores. Incluso admito que leer sobre cómo una hija sobrelleva la enfermedad de una madre me llegó bastante. La cosa es que la primera y la segunda parte se sienten como dos libros distintos y por lo mismo ambas partes me quedaron un poco a deber. Puntos extras por las descripciones del cementerio y el estilo de escritura de la autora que es muy ameno.
3.75/5. if you know me you know I'm not a big fantasy reader but I looove a good vampire narrative. the first half of this book definitely delivers if you're looking for a traditional vampire story with lots of blood, gore and sexual tension. the second half of the book is very different from the first – much slower with a melancholic tone and a more contemporary feel, but I personally didn't mind that and found this shift quite impactful. the resolution, however, was really unsatisfying, the relationship between the two women felt underdeveloped and the ending was so abrupt, I couldn't believe the book just ended like that. mixed feelings overall, but I would still recommend it if it sounds interesting to you.
Between 3.5 and 4? This is a dual timeline story. The first half of this book is the past timeline with the vampire, and it is basically perfect. I was certain it would be a five star read, but it lost steam as it got to the present timeline. The pacing slowed down and then felt rushed at the end. I still enjoyed it and would recommend
Mixed feelings on this one. I liked it, but sometimes it was kind of boring. Thirst is a sapphic vampire novel with two distinct timelines and perspectives. Most of the first half to two-thirds of the book is an ancient lady vampire recounting her life- how she was turned, how she made her way to colonial Buenos Aires and survived, the people she killed, the women she slept with and then killed. Some of this is interesting, some of it is rather dull. I think it's trying to fit in a lot about different moments in the history of Argentina as she lives through it, which is sometimes to the detriment of a compelling narrative. Or at least it makes it read more like historical fiction which isn't really my thing.
The rest of the book follows a divorced woman and mom whose life intersects with that of the vampire in contemporary Buenos Aires. What this does well is show the classic mix of seduction and brutality of vampires with a protagonist who is at once sympathetic and horrific. I feel like this will be a hit for people who are more into literary fiction or historical fiction who want some vampires sprinkled into their reading. To be fair, the marketing does call this genre-blurring and I think that's very accurate, it's just a matter of what those genres are. I liked this, but didn't love it though I think it will be a big hit with some readers. I received an advance copy of this book for review, all opinions are my own.
Me divertí mucho leyendo este libro, luego vimos Entrevista con el vampiro y fue genial el combo. El tributo que hace Marina Yuszczuk al género de los vampiros, incluido el estilo narrativo, lento, gótico y en primera persona está super bien hecho. Se nota que hizo su chamba para plantear a esta vampiresa y meterla al espacio bonaerense. Genial para esta temporada spooky y para seguir descubriendo y leyendo desde la perspectiva de latinoamericanas.
this was the first time i've ever been sent an advance reader copy of a novel — and it did not disappoint.
from the very first pages of this book, i knew that it would mean something to me. its beautiful prose, incredible translation, themes of womanhood, motherhood, mortality, religion, and vampirism with touches of queerness? incredible.
every word, every sentence, was so gorgeous. this is the work of a gifted author. i was highlighting something on every page. the world-building was perfect. haunted. nothing i could really say about this book would do it justice. the translator also deserves a prize for an incredible ability to know both the spanish and english language so deeply.
"beautiful and obscene."
this is my favorite book! ever! i will not be accepting criticism. i am so excited for all of this authors future work.
I went in to this blindly—no synopsis, no review reading. Saw a beautiful cover, the title "Thirst" with little teeth marks that can be about nothing else but vampires, and thought "hell yeah". And while I was right, I can't get in to this one. The problem for me is the over-sexualization of scenes and the emphasized eroticism. As a person who abhors romance reading and sex scenes in books, I decided to quit on this book because who knows how much more of that I have to suffer through to get to the heart of the story. DNF @ 25%
Vampiros, sangre, sed, violencia y deseo. Enfermedad, luto, maternidad y desconcierto. Buenos Aires siglos atrás. Un cementerio y su historia. El cruce, trágico y fascinante entre una criatura que anhela sangre y la finita pero cargada mortalidad.
La sed es un libro peculiar, divido en dos partes, logra con la primera involucrarnos de lleno en el misticismo que caracteriza a la figura del vampiro, permitiéndonos seguir a una mujer que fue cedida como víctima, como alimento, en su niñez para ser posteriormente convertida en una vampireza más. Su búsqueda, su sed, a través de siglos y cruzando incluso océanos es una aventura intensa, macabra, cargada de sensualidad y violencia.
La segunda mitad propone no sólo un cambio de narradora, de protagonista, sino también de tono, uno que puede resultar abrupto para el lector. El vertiginoso y hambriento relato previo se ve sucedido por la confesión lenta, angustiante y desesperanzada de una mujer cuya madre está gravemente enferma. Un testimonio de la pérdida anticipada, del ser hija pero también madre, del ser una mujer divorciada, de sobrevivir en la época actual.
El libro puede parecer, a simple vista, desbalanceado cuando el tipo de relato propio del cliché de las criaturas de la noche metamorfosea en algo más y no culpo a las personas que perdieron interés cuando ocurrió pero lejos estoy de ser una de ellas. El cambio me desestabilizó, sí, pero es una transición necesaria para llegar al desenlace, a esa entrega voluntaria, a esa culminación del deseo.
Cabe mencionar, además, que me causó infinito deleite que la acción haya tenido lugar en Argentina, más concretamente sus referencias al cementerio de Recoleta. Es un placer leer horror ambientado en este suelo.
I def wanted to like this one more than I did, that said, I’m still glad that I read it.
I think the idea I had that I was getting a sapphic vampire lit story was somewhat mis-marketed, though there are sapphic situations happening, it’s really not that or even close to the focus. Which is why I picked it up, so that left something to be desired, for me. I will say that I think the themes of death, rebirth, fear and arousal, and motherhood and grief, were all interesting and there were def lines I highlighted and will stick with me, but the overall story and characters fell a little flat for me in the writing somehow, and I am def more of a character reader over themes, plots, and vibes.
Le sobran por lo menos 100 páginas. La historia es piola, la segunda parte levanta un poco más pero bueno, eso. Igual me pone contenta haberlo recibido sorpresa porque sino seguramente no lo hubiese leído y me resultó original.
Dear reader, you may think to yourself "Ha Ha, No, I'll skip the vampire story," and to be honest, that is usually me, too. But, this is a portrait of a vampiress as a person, and an examination of what impulses (desire, grief, revenge, greed) make anyone a monster. It is definitely horror, there is plenty of violence, and the need to consume includes erotic desire, yet that's not the whole story.
First off, let us establish that both the writing and the translation are very good. The style is smooth and sultry, like slowly melting butter. The atmosphere is charged, and a little dangerous.
The opening scene is in a cemetery which has interred people of wealth, celebrity, and influence, and whose elaborate stonework, statues, and mausoleums attract tourists. The author is careful to point out that this maze-like resting place, heavily sanitized for the comfort of the visitors, has lulled the public into believing that nothing offensive or evil can touch them.
The unnamed narrator has become a little obsessed with this cemetery, like it exerts an invisible pull on her, drawing her into the rarefied and solemn air. [We do not find out her name until late in the story, which strikes me as kind of odd, unless it's a subtle nod to the idea that knowing a name means having power over someone.]
The narrator brings her young son with her on these excursions. We are struck by the contrast of Santiago's youth and exuberance, so full of life, compared to the dead, still, and silent. The narrator notices all the broken places in the stone, which is symbolic to her, as she knows what it means to be broken, to be torn open and have something new grow there. We discover two further things about the narrator: she is frightened of and drawn to an abandoned tomb, and she is absolutely terrified of a cemetery resident, a woman, who seems intent on haunting her, and only her. It is an excellent use of foreshadowing.
After the Prologue, a new character is introduced. With great sympathy, the author describes the way a young girl from a poor family might be sold to a monster, who transforms her into a monster as well. This female vampire escapes the hunt for her kind, and is run out of Europe. She cleverly finds her way to a ship headed for Argentina. She has learned many skills since her mean early years, having learned languages, customs, how to convincingly carry herself as a society lady, how to keep safe from priests and city dwellers who seek her destruction, and most of all, how to quench her thirst with as few consequences as possible.
Though the man who turned her was a smug psychopath, this vampiress is ashamed of what she is. She refers to herself as a beast and a terror. It's not an easy life, mostly because it never ends. She has to blend in, so she can carefully feed, and she also has to dedicate time to learn as much as she can to "pass" as a living woman. Imagine having to adjust to all the changes within one century, let alone several of them. At this point in the story, there are curious references to the loss of the sky. I could not ascertain if that was rhetorical, a way to demonstrate that even the seemingly eternal stars in the night sky change, depending on the year and the vantage point, so we understand that nothing really lasts forever.
Being a creature of the night, she is standing by the water's edge when she meets a beautiful vision of a young woman named Justina. She tempers her insane insatiable need to feed, so she can spend time with her. Even her enchantment with the young maiden cannot overrule her instincts. She tries to keep her, but an all-consuming love tends to consume. She also begins to notice the appearance of a ghostly young lady dressed in white, who appears to her but does not approach. This visionary being has power over beasts, with no need to fear them, and that fact should frighten our vampiress, since she knows that she is a beast, just like the jaguar the girl has tamed. To add to the mystery, the apparition looks exactly like Justina. It could be taken as a warning that her insatiable need will be the cause of her fall.
Wars and plagues arise out of, and create, chaos, which provides good hunting for the vampiress. She particularly enjoys the time she spends collecting stories and giving lonely women the love and attention they crave, before she takes what she needs from them. Also, I hadn't thought about it, but all those plagues revolutionized modern burial practices. If there are corpses everywhere, you kinda need to come up with a plan.
Our vampiress is very flexible about whom she will use to feed: women, men, doctors, priests, the living, the recently deceased. Through her, the author is not afraid to broach mostly taboo topics, like the relationship between fear and arousal.The vampiress uses sex and feeding as a mockery of everything the people believe in.
The author brings up many thoughtful and often resonant, hard facts. Those observations are the glue that holds the narrative together: questions of honesty and integrity, the way we treat outsiders, any horrors we inflict as punishment that end up turning us into horrors, our terrible deeds that end up poisoning everything good in our lives, that a reckoning comes for us all, and my personal favorite: sincere belief isn't the same thing as being right. The author also makes an observation near and dear to our hearts since COVID19: succumbing to plague at the chaotic height of a epidemic ends up feeling like a death without dignity.
Buenos Aires is the perfect setting for this story: a city built on mud and blood. If you don't know much about Argentinian history, suffice it to say that things got ugly early and often.
Our vampiress is very nearly destroyed in this growing city, but just as she barely escaped Europe, she just manages to slip away from Buenos Aires. Where will she go if the crowded city isn't safe for her? The best way to hide is, of course, in the least likely place. The vampiress first surrounds herself with beauty and the symbols of hope, while she concocts a plan to keep herself hidden, and to keep the people safe from her. She has all the trappings of an elegant room: lush textures, rich colors, and reflected candlelight, but most of all, she longs to use a mirror. She grieves at not having a reflection, but does she really want to see the face of what she's become?
Time has always passed much more rapidly for the dead than for the living. Once she realizes that her understanding of the human world is decades behind, she fears she'll never catch up. How will she hunt? She tries to find a way to not have to. The lengths one can go to in order to hurt someone, or to keep from hurting someone, are nearly infinite. The Vampiress chooses the latter, because she has never wanted to be a monster.
It's clear throughout the story that both the living and the dead have a tumultuous relationship with religion. The power of the church sometimes supersedes the power of government. A great deal is made about appearances (consecrated ground) over substance (proper burial is good public health policy). Perhaps because of this, the cemetery ends up as chaotic as the plagues which originally necessitated it. There's no way to fix it. That brings us to the end of Part I.
The perspective of the dead as they navigate the living world in part I of this story has been macabre, but the initial perspective of the living in part II seems terrifying and downright diabolical. At least we have the reappearance of the unnamed narrator from the prologue, the mother of the exuberant young child Santiago. And we found out what the mother was grieving, that seemed like loss, was more of an anticipatory kind of death, like death had come to live with them, biding its time.
Scary and vulnerable together comprise both a mood and a tone that are hard to maintain. Luckily, the narrative shifts away to more of a mystery. This is one of those developments in which the reader knows more about the situation and its dangers than the characters. As straightforward as this part of the story seems to be, there is also a lot of subtext, including questions of quality of life and agency.
Is there a modern culture where people have a healthy attitude about death, and can talk about it? We all seem so jittery and uncomfortable. Also, a little gem, but without explaining, the author uses the oxymoronic phrase "fresh corpse." I'd never thought about how odd that phrase is.
The pacing of part II is slower, and it takes a lot longer for something to happen. There are a few vague Lovecraftian references to creatures of nightmares, but more as metaphors for transformation than as literal beings. How do we know when we are overreacting vs. in real danger? One not need believe in evil in order to suffer from it. Our part II main character is not oblivious. She is aware that she may have unleashed something she should not have. Oh, and it is 86% of the way into the novel that we finally find out Santiago's mom's name.
The ending is a little predictable, but not entirely. There is a plan that might solve many of their problems, but not all of them, so I wasn't completely sure if the characters would go for it.
In all, I really enjoyed this book. I had very few quibbles.
Thank you to NetGalley and to Dutton, an imprint of Penguin Random House, for providing an early copy of this novel for review.
This book surprised me in that it was not quite what I thought it would be. The ambiance was killer. Think rainy days, old cemeteries, death and vampires. It’s separated into two large sections: the first half details the life of the vampire in the past and the second half is when we meet our current day heroine. I’m a sentimental and really wanted more of a romantic connection between the two characters. That said, they definitely connected but I could have heard much more about it and what that connection was special! The connection in the story to the mother was also quite poignant and again circled that ever-present death theme. I would definitely read more from this author!