Buddy read for April 2022: Mariana Enriquez's Things We Lost in the Fire

[Margaret]

Bill wrote: ""Spiderweb" is not a type of story that I usually enjoy. But it worked for me because of the familiar Enriquez touches: the unflinching (but non-didactic) look at socioeconomic disparity, and the c..."

I was not in that mindset of the satisfying ending of "Spider Web" and the hatefulness of the husband. Sure, the guy has a lot of flaws, as do all of the characters in this story, in my opinion. He does not fit in with this environment his wife drags him to. He is more conservative, of the wealthier caste. But personality-wise he is more of the "truth" proclaimer, a prophetic type whom we hate to hear sometimes. I have to admit, many of the things he says are in the literal sense, "true."

I am not convinced we are supposed to love the narrator. Yes, she seems to have good and bad represented here. What I like about the style of this is that in a very literal way, this kind of narrative shows the consternation and ennui of someone in a marriage to a basically ok person, a sort of "ok" person who falls short of another's romanticized hopes and dreams.

The narrator seems immature in some ways and I like it that she admits to this frozen state of her growth. And, like many dissatisfied in the married state, she "wishes" her husband dead.

(view spoiler)[But wishing something and really being happy when and if it occurs do not necessarily go together. What is visited upon her is her dream of the grandma realized, except in the form of her husband. And the cousin, who seems likely responsible for this misery, is not portrayed as glowingly, another nod to the way in which the narrator has to grow in order to see reality. (hide spoiler)]

[Margaret]

Marc wrote: "A curious question... I have read some stories/books considered gothic and I have a vague notion of what that entails, but how is one's reading of Enríque's stories affected by viewing them through..."

Marc: Before the month is out, I look forward to reading the Lit Hub interview. Thank you for posting that. Cheers.

[Margaret]

Marina wrote: "Hi from Croatia :) I have read this one last year and I loved every single story! I love how raw and immersive they are, and how uneasy they made me feel. I had to stop and reflect after each story..."

I so agree with you, Marina, about the endings! I think that is how we can have different impressions and takeaways.

[Marina]

@Margaret
Exactly! :)

[Margaret]

Vavita wrote: "End of Term
I see two things that I consider horror in this one.
First, the horror comes from the eyes of the narrator. She remembers this ugly, strange girl. She feels horrified about how she loo..."

I agree there is a lot of levels of horror in this! My overall impression of this is the conceit that insanity is somehow catching, that it can be spread. Looking at it through that lens, those who stick most carefully to norms in this story and who allow themselves to be watched over and guided by their societal gatekeepers --- parents, teachers, school --- are those who arm themselves and don't catch it. But the narrator walks on the fringes of this. She wants to be empathetic with something that has no real organizing core. In other words, she seeks to understand something that cannot be understood, and because of this, she is infected by it. Again, totally struck by how this was done, the ending, everything.

[Margaret]

I accidentally erased a couple of posts. My copy and reply feature is not working so well. I was trying to respond to Vavita.

I read "End of Term" in much the same way, as working in a dual way, and in which the conceit is that for those who entertain that which is outside the norm, who try to make sense of chaos and darkness may very well become infected with evil. I loved it.

"No Flesh over Our Bones" reminded me of a Santa Muerte statue albeit in the form of an actual skull. But the narrator adorns it in a similar fashion and sets up a shrine and uses it as a way to seek guidance.

The way she uses "ugliness" reminds me of a story I wrote about a skeleton who is animated who is a roommate of a woman dying to lose weight. Reference is made here to the beauty ideal of thinness.

I love your questions about this story, Vavita. I haven't begun to touch on them.

[Bill]

"The Neighbor's Courtyard" was as intense and harrowing as I remembered. I like how the small hints slowly build up: the landlord's over-eagerness, the couple's troubled marriage, the backstory of the flawed characters. And once the boy (?) made his appearance, it was all downhill. We hardly saw anything, but I was queasy the entire time.

I'm afraid I'm not a fan of the ending. If it had ended a page early, I would have thought it was perfect. I have to say, the line about (view spoiler)[ the boy's eyelids being "gray and greasy like sardines" (hide spoiler)] really shook me for some reason.

Vavita, the mother-in-law made a quip about "that numbskull son of mine". Is there a comparable expression in Spanish? Just curious how much creative freedom McDowell had with the translation.

[Vavita]

Bill wrote: "Vavita, the mother-in-law made a quip about "that numbskull son of mine". Is there a comparable expression in Spanish? Just curious how much creative freedom McDowell had with the translation"

There is no such expression in that story. There is a part in which the mother-in-law says: “Yo no sé, Paulita, de dónde salió tan necio mi hijo”, which would be like saying: “I don’t know from whom he inherited his foolishness” or “…why is he so foolish”. I assume you are referring to that part.

[Margaret]

Bill wrote: ""The Neighbor's Courtyard" was as intense and harrowing as I remembered. I like how the small hints slowly build up: the landlord's over-eagerness, the couple's troubled marriage, the backstory of ..."

I think as far as the ending goes, I can see how it wouldn't be everyone's favorite. That being said, some of the hideousness being made explicit in that last scene is a kind of magnified doubling of the circumstances the social workers were grappling with in the main character's old job. It is a kind of hideousness that in the final act, is loud, all-encompassing. This manifestation, at least, from this third-person limited point of view, takes no prisoners.

This story gives us the chance to argue for and against the reliability of this third-person limited perspective and therefore may leave our interpretation of the ending open, much like in Henry James's "The Turn of the Screw."

[Margaret]

Vavita wrote: "The Neighbor's Courtyard

I liked this one a lot. I don't know what to think about it yet.
Is there an underlying message in this story?

Finally, we see how the guilt is devouring Paula. Miguel d..."

I liked this one too. I think if there is any message, it is dark. For me, there were things about the setting and circumstances as a whole that set the stage for this. Just that little idea of a cat who might go anywhere, do anything, with no real boundary. And of course, the children in the social services ward who were hard to coral, hard to keep there. Their traumas on the street and hopelessness in their lives when combined with a main character who may not be able to accept some of the conditions as inevitable lead to her sort of breakdown and abdication. It didn't help her husband worked against her illness and demonized her.

Or, maybe the only take away is that it is necessary to understand what it is we can't control and work on the things we can. The darker and more out of control the situation, the more we have to let go.

(view spoiler)[I would say, regarding the dark ending, we don't know how much of her experiences in her neighbor's house and in her room are real or a delusion or some mix. We don't know if she'll wake up the next day and use her husband's fleeing to mom as a chance to escape the situation. (hide spoiler)]

[Bill]

Interesting take on the ending. I was doubting the narrator's take on the earlier events, but not in the last scene. I guess I was swept up in Enriquez's writing.

[Vavita]

Ha! I didn’t think about that, Margaret. Good one!

[Marc]

It does feel like the narrator in "The Neighbor's Courtyard" is almost begging us to believe her (she doubts her own lucidity when she drops that line near the end that she knows she's not dreaming because she feel pain). The tension as she was exploring the neighbor's home was palpable and had me on edge. I loved the whole atmosphere of this one.

This notion of control and letting go (or, at least, acknowledging lack of it) seems to be at the heart of a lot of these stories. Another thing I'm noticing is the body horror--disfigurements, self- and societally-inflicted injuries, etc. I feel like I should feel pity/sympathy, but the impact is more akin to most of the narrators (which is usually disgust/revulsion).

I found Juan Martin so unlikeable in "Spiderweb" that I was thrilled he was gone (interestingly enough, I also find myself attributing a supernatural cause to many of the endings that could just as easily be interpreted as everyday occurrences... such as a husband leaving his wife).

You have me thinking a lot more about the maturity of the narrators, Margaret, as many of them, at least in the beginnings, come off as immature or, possibly, superficial. Thanks for the answer about how the "gothic" lens helps your own reading.

"End of Term" -- felt like cutting/self-harm was contagious or a form of communicable possession. I enjoy how easily Enríquez makes me feel uncomfortable in her stories

"Under the Black Water"
Here's one where the mutated child (towards the end when she confronts the priest) mostly creeped me out instead of arousing sympathy. Felt like corruption and evil were a type of pollutant poisoning the water in addition to environmental neglect.

Is there a type of re-appropriation or reclaiming of power going on in many of these stories where either the people or the land/water takes what has been a wrong (neglect, mutation, pollution, disfigurement) and turn it into their strength through fear/monstrosity?

[Bill]

Vavita wrote: "This story reminded me of an interview with Enriquez in which she mentioned that these tales are realistic with a little supernatural, but for her, the police, poverty, violence, men are more cause of fear that anything supernatural."

Yes. In "Under the Black Water", we don't actually see anything clearly supernatural. But the whole environment is horrific, and the poor narrator is out of her depth. There are quite a few Lovecraft-ian nods (most obvious being the graffiti).

I also really like this mix of dark real-world events and horror in early Del Toro films; the supernatural component is much more overt though.

And yes, the title story was... painful. I was squirming through most of it.

So this was a great buddy read! Thanks to Vavita, Margaret and Marc for the interesting conversations.

[Bill]

Marc wrote: "I found Juan Martin so unlikeable in "Spiderweb" that I was thrilled he was gone "
Me too. I understand (as Margaret mentioned) he doesn't fit in with the environment. But I find myself in uncomfortable environments too, and I try not to a jerk about it. (Hope I succeeded a little at least...)

[Vavita]

Bill, I agree it has been a great buddy read!

[Marc]

Indeed, thanks for the great discussion, the invite, and introducing me to Enríquez!

The title story was marvelously disturbing! Disfigurement as empowerment. Still leaves a lump in my throat.

I'm only a little familiar with Lovecraft but this writing definitely conveys that cosmic horror feel (in addition to more direct references I missed).

#team-no-sympathy-for-juan-miguel

[Vavita]

That’s my team too! ;-)

[Margaret]

Marc wrote: "It does feel like the narrator in "The Neighbor's Courtyard" is almost begging us to believe her (she doubts her own lucidity when she drops that line near the end that she knows she's not dreaming..."

I think it is absolutely brilliant that Enriquez's narrators or point of view characters are sometimes unlikeable, sometimes shallow, sometimes immature, and sometimes unreliable. In some of her stories, maybe many, idk, we are given the chance to feel ambivalent. In the end, as they seem to be the victimized or at least secondarily affected, we may begin to examine them in a new way. Will they be different after what has befallen them? We don't know. Will they survive at all? We still don't know. It is all up for grabs.

[Margaret]

And I would say her flawed characters are like me in many ways, or at least the ways I am not blind to, and that is what crushes me when they suffer psychically, physically, and otherwise. Like the best of horror writers, Enriquez has her finger on the pulse of our humanity.

[Bill]

Marc wrote: "I'm only a little familiar with Lovecraft but this writing definitely conveys that cosmic horror feel (in addition to more direct references I missed)."

While I enjoyed Lovecraft as a teen, I haven't been able to stand him for years.

The graffiti on the church (?) has embedded in it "YOGSOTHOTH", one of Lovecraft's monstrous entities.

[Margaret]

#team-no-sympathy-for-juan-miguel

Lols!

I was thinking about the point of view character who seems no stranger to feelings of fear and likely guilt. You got to live with yourself and sometimes that's the biggest challenge of all.

[Bill]

Margaret wrote: "I think it is absolutely brilliant that Enriquez's narrators or point of view characters are sometimes unlikeable, sometimes shallow, sometimes immature, and sometimes unreliable."
Yes, I really like how Enriquez handles her major characters.

By the way, while we're on the topic of dark/horror fiction in bleak real-world settings, I'm also a huge fan of Joel Lane's work. Would love more recommendations.

[Margaret]

Bill: Have you read Brian Evenson? I haven't, but I've been wanting to. I might try "Song for the Unraveling," which is a collection. Maybe the group would like to read it sometime if it hasn't already.

I haven't read Joel Lane. What do you think of "The Lost District?" Or would another work be a better jumping-off place?

[Bill]

I'm a huge Evenson fan, probably my favorite horror-esque writer. We've actually read "Song..." as a monthly read, and also the more recent The Glassy, Burning Floor of Hell, which I think is strange and has some of his best work in recent years.

I think Lost District is probably one of the weaker Lane collections. Recently we read his first collection The Earth Wire and Other Stories, which has some of my favorite stories. It's not as consistent as Things We Lost in the Fire.

[Margaret]

Well, I love some of the old-timey stuff, like M.R. James. I know I've read others more recently and will try to wrack my brain and peruse my shelves.

Thanks for the Lane and Evenson rec.

[Margaret]

Vavita wrote: "Under the Black Water

A great piece about fanaticism! A good gothic story that takes place in a secluded dark place that reflects the decadence of its inhabitants and abandonment of the police and..."

I kept thinking this might be a brilliant kind of modern "Heart of Darkness" in which the hero---who will extract Kurtz---is now the heroine, in the embodiment of Marina. In both, the hero/heroine find the entrenched nature of a new kind of madness that is indeed a religion. In "Heart of Darkness," Kurtz has become a god. In "Heart of Darkness," this is not a good and healthy thing. I think the goodness of the nascent religion in "Under the Black Water" is up for debate. For one, there seems to be no way to worship in this new religion and be extricated from death and decay. Then again, the practices match the circumstances. (The developed mythology was fascinating.)

[Margaret]

"Green Red Orange." It's kind of a sensory deprivation concept, like a white torture room, where a prisoner is kept in a white cell, wears white clothing, eats white food. And it breaks people down. They develop a sense of depersonalization and hallucinate. In the story, Marco, who is eventually M, etc, is self-imprisoned. But the narrator too begins to experience the hollowness of screen "presences" and even the strangeness of her teacher who hallucinates a fake daughter. I guess this could be a lot of things---the disconnect of society in the age of technology, the breakdown of society with its attendant mental illness, etc. In a way, we hold the keys, but once inside, there doesn't seem to be a way out.

[Margaret]

Marc, I am just now seeing the brilliant comment you made above about "Under the Black Water:" "Is there a type of re-appropriation or reclaiming of power going on in many of these stories where either the people or the land/water takes what has been a wrong (neglect, mutation, pollution, disfigurement) and turn it into their strength through fear/monstrosity?" Interesting!

[Margaret]

The title story. I found this deeply sardonic. I loved it. The women say, "Victims no more, we take this to a level you never imagined, and you'll just have to deal." Yet, there is some hypocrisy among the women: The determination of who is too old or important to the cause to risk the flame and who, like Silvyna, will be a "true flower of fire."

An interesting detail occurs near the end when Silvyna, tasting whiskey on her tongue, registering the cigarette smoke in her nose as well as the smell of sterilized gauze, like the smell of gasoline, considers contacting her boyfriend. It's like with all the tools of immolation teasing her senses, she unconsciously thinks about handing over her power.

This is a weird and wonderful tale.

[Margaret]

I hope I haven't revealed too many spoilers in my comments. I will try to be broader if so. Or maybe I should just bracket the whole of my comments with spoiler alerts.

[Vavita]

Margaret wrote: ""Green Red Orange." It's kind of a sensory deprivation concept, like a white torture room, where a prisoner is kept in a white cell, wears white clothing, eats white food. And it breaks people down..."

I just didn’t connect with this one. Maybe because of technology being so deeply involved in the story. It seems I cannot get the sense of gothic in the digital world….

[Margaret]

Vavita wrote: "Margaret wrote: ""Green Red Orange." It's kind of a sensory deprivation concept, like a white torture room, where a prisoner is kept in a white cell, wears white clothing, eats white food. And it b..."

It would be and is a hard thing to write about this as a gothic horror subject, and yeah, we have plenty of our own modern horror filmic attempts, a lot of which fall flat. What I liked was its dedication to realism, and yet, the horror of this realism as well. The mother is just as much the victim as anyone. And damn, is she trapped.

[Margaret]

Vavita wrote: "Margaret wrote: ""Green Red Orange." It's kind of a sensory deprivation concept, like a white torture room, where a prisoner is kept in a white cell, wears white clothing, eats white food. And it b..."

Vavita, I meant to comment that in a way, this is suggestive of Francois Mauriac's "Genetix," in which a mother's daughter-in-law dies on her neglectful watch when her son is away. The mother, who had been jealous for her son's affections is blamed for not helping with her care. The son takes to his room and decides not to eat. All he wants to do every day is go and visit his late wife's grave. In other words, the son's dead wife is more competition for her son's affections than when she was alive.

Likewise, in Green Red Orange," a "dead" object commands a son's devotion and he forsakes all others. Yes, he's depressed, but the story, like many of these here, has a prismatic quality with quite a few facets in which to "see" what is at their heart.

[Vavita]

Margaret wrote: "All he wants to do every day is go and visit his late wife's grave. In other words, the son's dead wife is more competition for her son's affections than when she was alive.."

That is really interesting!

[Margaret]

I do feel like this story was not as intense as the others.