Synopsis:
Welcome to Argentina and the fascinating, frightening, fantastical imagination of Mariana Enriquez. In twelve spellbinding new stories, Enriquez writes about ordinary people, especially women, whose lives turn inside out when they encounter terror, the surreal, and the supernatural. A neighborhood nuisanced by ghosts, a family whose faces melt away, a faded hotel haunted by a girl who dissolved in the water tank on the roof, a riverbank populated by birds that used to be women—these and other tales illuminate the shadows of contemporary life, where the line between good and evil no longer exists.
Lyrical and hypnotic, heart-stopping and deeply moving, Enriquez’s stories never fail to enthrall, entertain, and leave us shaken. Translated by the award-winning Megan McDowell, A Sunny Place for Shady People showcases Enriquez’s unique blend of the literary and the horrific, and underscores why Kazuo Ishiguro, winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature, calls her “the most exciting discovery I’ve made in fiction for some time.”
Review:
In “A Sunny Place for Shady People,” across twelve bleak yet beautiful short stories, Mariana Enriquez crafts a macabre travelogue through Buenos Aires and beyond. From haunted hotels, to cursed vintage dresses, each title unsettles, disturbs and refuses to be ignored in its own way, all declining to offer answers… or comfort. Enriquez’s ghosts don’t simply lurk in old stately homes but spill out onto streets, and fill neighbourhoods. I’ve had “Our Share of Night,” festering on my bookshelf for longer than I care to admit, and having been prompted to pick this one up after Sadie Hartmann’s “Night Worms,” book-club picked “A Sunny Place for Shady People,” for the month of March, maybe I’ll finally dive into it.
It seems to me that Enriquez’s brand of horror is insidious, political, and more deeply rooted in non-fiction than just any old ghost story or urban legend. “A Sunny Place for Shady People,” is a diverse collection, but a running theme seems to be that Mariana’s characters, largely women, are caught in cycles of grief, trauma, and decay, their bodies and minds shaped, occasionally consumed, disappearing, or being rewritten. Whether it’s the protagonist from “Face of Disgrace,” whose features begin to blur, or the woman who becomes obsessed with (and demands ownership of) the fibroid she has removed from “Metamorphosis,” Enriquez returns time and time again to the theme of female autonomy and erasure. Enriquez also pulls Argentina’s past into the spotlight, discussing ideas of state, class, and instability. Even outside of Buenos Aires, difficult themes of poverty and political unrest persist. There is one passage describing LA in the title story “A Sunny Place for Shady People,” that brought a tear to my eye. The horror here exists in every neighbourhood, and is not created so much by the ghosts and monsters, so much as it is by the systems, structures and governments that create them.
Whilst those are a few overarching themes, I can’t stress quite enough how diverse a collection this one is, as I hope you’ll be able to tell for yourself when I talk you through some of my personal favourites. This is my first read from Enriquez, so I’m hardly qualified, but each story whilst completely it’s own, simultaneously feels cohesive, like they belong in the same universe. I hate the word “vibes,” but they have the same vibes, if you get my vibe. It shows that Mariana’s voice is strong and that her to-die-for prose and lush style are consistent, whilst also demonstrating the range that she has. Impressed is an understatement, Enriquez is formidable.
Okay, down to business. This collection starts with a bang, and the bang in question is “My Sad Dead.” It follows a woman named Emma who is reluctant to leave her apartment. It’s not because she’s nostalgic, or that she lives on a nice street (in fact the opposite is true) but because her mother lives there. Her mother who has been dead for years. Emma has developed a knack for communicating with ghosts, and within her Buenos Aires neighbourhood has become some kind of mediator between the living and the dead. It focuses largely on themes of grief and guilt, memory and remembrance, who is erased, whose legacy continues? As all of the stories are, the social commentary is not discrete or apologetic, and as the whole collection is, it’s all the better for it.
“If misery is stalking you the way it does everyone in my country and my city and you have to resort to crime in order to survive, then that’s what you do.”
Another that has played on my mind, even in the few days between my reading it and now, is “Julie,” which I found to be the most “out there,” of the bunch. It may not surprise you to learn that it’s about a woman named “Julie,” who returns to Argentina from “Yankeeland,” to stay with her cousin (the narrator) and family. It’s hardly a heart-warming reunion however, as she’s only back in South America to seek some psychiatric help. Julie is convinced that she has been having sex with ghosts. This is a story about community and abandonment, about perspective and autonomy, and whilst it’s layered and nuanced, it also happens to be quite funny.
“If she was having ghost sex in there, she was being very discreet about it.”
Finally, “The Refrigerator Cemetery,” is a cloying and claustrophobic read that follows our narrator and conspirator David. Whilst the idea of being haunted by mistakes we made when we were young and foolish is not new or original by any means, this story of course is, and broke my heart within pages. As children, playing in “The Refrigerator Cemetery,” which literally refers to a dumping ground for old appliances, namely… refrigerators… our main characters played a stupid game with Gustavo, who following a violent seizure, died. They left him there, and now decades later, they’re determined to find his body and give him a proper burial before the Cemetery is finally removed.
“It’s easy to call what we did an accident, if you omit our actions afterward, all the lies and silence.”
I find it impressive when a novel is so visceral that it creeps me out at the time, but “A Sunny Place for Shady People,” is different. I had no visceral reaction to any one story, but having greedily polished them all off, like a box of chocolates, I’m feeling pretty unwell. Political, pervasive and paranormal, I can’t wait to read more from Enriquez pronto.
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