Review of Mexican Gothic

Who says the Gothic has to be relegated to creepy old castles in Europe? While American Gothic has been an established subset of the genre since the nineteenth century, in recent years the Gothic has really expanded into a diversity of settings and perspectives. Celebrated Mexican-Canadian author Silvia Moreno-Garcia brings classic Gothic tropes and story structures into the Mexican countryside in the straightforwardly titled Mexican Gothic, which came out earlier this summer.

Socialite Noemí Taboada has been living a life of glitz and glamor in 1950s Mexico City, when her father receives a disturbing letter from her cousin Catalina. After a whirlwind romance, Catalina had been whisked off to her husband’s grand estate in the mountains, but now she writes of poison, ghosts, and incoherent fears that sound like madness. Noemí’s father sends her to investigate, but when she arrives at High Place it becomes clear that there is something very wrong with the Doyle family. As Noemí struggles to navigate the strict rules of the house, the casual bigotry of the Doyle patriarch, and the dangerous allure of her cousin’s husband, she finds herself succumbing to the power of the house that seems to hold all of its inhabitants prisoner. At first glance, the Doyles seem like any other British colonizer family—with a penchant for white supremacy and a legacy of wealth built on exploiting Mexican laborers in the silver mines before the revolution interrupted their industry. Yet beneath the surface lies something more sinister, and Noemí will need to uncover the family’s dark secrets if she is to have any hope of getting herself and her cousin out of there alive. Luckily, she seems to have found an unlikely ally in the family’s youngest son. Shy and gentle Francis has no desire to perpetuate the sins of his forefathers, but is he strong enough to betray his family?

Throughout Gothic literature, the villain of the story is often some dangerous, foreign Other—whether that be Italians and Spaniards tainted by Catholicism, aristocratic vampires from superstition-laden Eastern Europe, or pagan magic-users from the exotic Middle East or Asia. In this way, Gothic literature has often been used to uphold racist, xenophobic, and imperialistic worldviews. Yet this trope takes on a whole new meaning when the dangerous, foreign Other is a family of British colonizers intruding into Mexican society. The Doyle family isn’t feared simply because they are different and unfamiliar, but rather because their role as a colonizing force puts them in a position of power over the Mexican townspeople, which they readily exploit. Howard and Virgil Doyle make particularly convincing villains because they represent not just the dangers of specific physical harm to Catalina and Noemí, but the dangers of racism and colonialism as a whole. And more than just racism—Howard and Virgil are proponents of the particularly insidious philosophy of eugenics, which had historically gained prominence in Mexico during the time period in which this story is set. Howard believes that certain races are genetically superior to others, and is obsessed with improving the bloodline of his family through selective breeding. Not only is this philosophy deeply rooted in racism, but it poses a particular threat to the women of the story who are viewed by the Doyles as merely vessels for breeding and are expected to give up agency over their bodies. As much as High Place is haunted by supernatural happenings and dark family secrets, the true horror of Mexican Gothic is the ever-present specter of colonialism, racism, and eugenics.

Another trope that Mexican Gothic plays with is that of the crumbling family estate. High Place is a haunted house, infused with the history and characteristics of the family that has lived there for generations, much like the House of Usher, the House of the Seven Gables, or any number of Gothic castles. As is common with these settings, the house is rotting and decaying, which parallels the corruption of the Doyle family. Yet unique to Mexican Gothic is the focus on fungus as representative of this decay. Rather than merely drafty hallways, dusty rooms, or crumbling ceilings, High Place is compromised by mushrooms and mold that spread through the walls. The mushroom is a particularly apt symbol, since it is an organism that feeds on decay—a life that nourishes itself on death. Fungi are also particularly strange and alien, with all sorts of unusual features that make them difficult to understand and classify, leaving them in a liminal space. The fact that mushrooms spread out in networks and reproduce through sporification also makes them perfect for contagion metaphors that Gothic literature is so prone to. I talk often about how in Gothic literature, the setting is almost alive, sometimes seemingly sentient, and functions like a character within the story. Well in this case, the house is quite literally alive with a network of mold and mushrooms!

If you’re at all interested in the new paths that contemporary Gothic is taking these days, you definitely do not want to miss Mexican Gothic! You can find it on shelves now at your local bookstore, or order online and support The Gothic Library in the process by clicking this Bookshop.org affiliate link. Let me know what you think of the book in the comments!