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Book Review: The Tenth Girl by Sara Faring

The Tenth Girl by Sara Faring

Imprint, 2019

ISBN-13: 978-1250304506

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audiobook, audio CD

 

Teenage Mavi, living in Argentina under the military dictatiorship of Jorge Videla in 1978, is barely scraping by in the streets of Buenos Aires after her parents have “disappeared”.  Desperate to evade the police herself, Mavi uses forged credentials to get a job as an English teacher at the Vaccaro School, an exclusive boarding school in a huge Gothic mansion located in isolated Patagonia. Angel is a disembodied visitant from 2020 to Mavi’s time and place.

The Vaccaro School was built by the wealthy De Vaccaro family in the nineteenth century on land seized by the fictional indigenous Zapuche tribe. Mavi’s uncle explains that the Zapuche enacted bloody rituals when their land was seized. Sixty years ago, a mysterious illness reputed to have sprung from a Zapuche curse killed nearly all the residents of the Vaccaro School, and a girl had to be sacrificed to stop it. It is just now reopening. I think the author was trying to make a commentary on the damage colonialism has done to Argentina and its indigenous people, but the “Indian curse” and “savage bloody sacrifice” tropes really need to be set aside. The Zapuche being a fictional tribe means that the author lost an opportunity to bring attention to the existing problems of Argentina’s indigenous peoples.

The Tenth Girl was promoted as a Gothic psychological thriller with a twist, and for about 350 pages it hits pretty much every trope in the toolbox for a Gothic thriller, without actually having a story that goes much of anywhere. One thing that I did find interesting was the way the house seemed impossibly larger and space more disorganized on the inside than on the outside,  reminding me of the Winchester Mansion or Hill House. Sara Faring is an Argentine-American, so maybe that’s why she set the book in a remote part of Argentina, but the majority of this could have taken place in any isolated location. Faring’s descriptions of Patagonia are lovingly written, but there are too few of them, as for the majority of the book, the school’s inhabitants are trapped inside by the terrible weather. The sudden twist turned the events and characters in a completely different direction, leading to the raising of some interesting philosophical questions. However, I also felt that it cheapened the historical events chronicled in the book. I felt that the twist ending undercut the harsh realities of  Argentina’s “desaparecidos”. The twist also explained in part why the depiction of indigenous people is so problematic, but I think it was just unneccessary in the first place.  I’d love to say more about why, but that would spoil the book for potential readers.

I picked this up because it made the preliminary ballot for the 2020 Stokers in the YA category. It was a real struggle for me to stick with the book for the first 350 pages, but I’m glad I persisted. Faring’s twist ending really changed my perspective on the events and characters. I have trouble imagining many teens picking up this doorstopper and working their way through the whole thing, though.

Contains: pedophilia, self-harm, mentions of suicide, violence, gore.

Book Review: 100+ Black Women in Horror Fiction by Sumiko Saulson

100+ Black Women in Horror Fiction by Sumiko Saulson

Iconoclast Productions, 2018

ISBN: 9781387587469

Available at Lulu.com in hardcover, paperback, and premium paperback, and on Amazon as hardcover, paperback, and Kindle edition.

 

February is both Women in Horror Month and Black History Month, and in 2014, author and blogger Sumiko Saulson compiled interviews and biographical sketches of black women writers who have written in the horror genre, composed for and shared on her blog, into a book titled 60 Black Women in Horror Fiction. Saulson published 100+ Black Women in Horror Fiction as an expanded edition in 2018. It includes additional, very brief entries on black women horror writers that Saulson uncovered after 2014. Entries are listed in alphabetical order and each is accompanied by website addresses for the author. Following the entries are interviews of 17 black women authors profiled in the book. Poet Linda Addison, Africanfuturist Nnedi Okorafor, and horror writers Lori Titus and Eden Royce, among others, are included in the interviews section of the book, and David Watson shares a short essay on L.A. Banks and Octavia Butler.

The book is clearly a labor of love, and even a list of black women writers of horror is needed, but unfortunately, the majority of entries do not include typical biographical information like date and place of birth, family members, and  background information. They do include a list of the author’s publications, specifically those related to the horror genre. I examined the Kindle edition, and the website links do work, but not all of them are current: a few of them are no longer in existence (unfortunately, one of them is a resource Saulson cited as using in researching and writing the book: darkgeisha.wordpress.com). It is clear that this is an expanded version– that is, new entries have been added– and not an updated one, after reading the introduction, but this is really a starting point for exploring these women’s work rather than a detailed biographical reference. There are unfortunately a number of typos and punctuation errors in the book, but they don’t interfere with the ability to understand and use what is still a unique book for reader’s advisory and for readers wanting to diversify their experience of reading horror fiction.

Saulson’s original work can also be found on her blog at sumikosaulson.com, and I highly encourage you to visit and explore her resources. There are more black women writers of horror than there were when Saulson started this project on her blog in 2013, but their writing, and recognition for it, is a part of the horror community that needs to continue to grow.

Saulson has also edited a companion volume of original short fiction by 18 black women writers of horror whose profiles are included in this book, which also came out in February of 2018, called Black Magic Women: Terrifying Tales by Scary Sisters. Stay tuned for a review later this month!

 

 

Magazine Review: Horror Scholar Volume 1, edited by Cecelia Abate

Horror Scholar Journal Volume 1 edited by Cecilia Abate

Horror Scholar, 2019

Available: free and online at https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-dPP15cficp5M8LxuSHz5K5TKLSqxo8J/view

This is a review for the first issue of Horror Scholar’s (Cecilia Abate) experimental themed literary magazine, Horror Scholar Journal, Volume 1. She launched the journal “in response to the intimidating process of pitching to formal literary magazines and the niche community of horror scholars looking to further their work” (p. 4). The focus of the first issue is American Horror Story.

Spinster Eskie, in the article titled “Coven’s Forgettable Witch”, discusses the blank canvas trope in horror, focusing on Zoe and how her role was “a safe bet for the series (white, boring, etc.)”. Rather than taking a chance on giving attention to Queenie or Nana would have rejected tradition, something the author argues that witches typically break.

In Dodie Miller-Gould’s article, “Gothic Representations of Mothers and Daughters in AHS: Freakshow“, uses Gothic tropes to discuss Elsa Mars and her mothering, or lack thereof, regarding Dot and Bette Tattler, and Barbara (Imma Wiggles).

Abate herself argues, in “The Pop-Horror Temporality of Cult and Apocalypse“, that these two seasons in particular stand out as being closer to the viewer than the others, as they address what was occurring and worrying people at that point in time. This is especially true of Cult and its political commentary.

The last article, Paula Ashe’s “Class Anxiety in Murder House“, presents good information, but is admittedly a dense read. Ashe argues that American Horror Story: Murder House is “an ideologically potent response to the realities of risk society colliding with the values of neoliberalism” (p. 25),  and that “at its heart, American Horror Story is a conservative morality tale about a neoliberal family in material crisis”(p. 22), making valuable points in that regard. Be prepared for a lot of information in this one.

I think the only criticism I have for this volume is that it could go through another edit, as I noticed a few typos, but other than that, this was a very solid first issue for Horror Scholar Journal. It is worth a read if you are interested in horror analysis, but be warned that if you have not viewed the seasons of American Horror Story that are discussed, there are spoilers ahead. I’m looking forward to the next issue. Highly recommended.

Contains: spoilers

 

Reviewed by Lizzy Walker