"A Sunny Place for Shady People," is a dark and haunting collection of stories. The author, Enriquez, has a knack for sending shivers down your spine in the most captivating way. The collection is divided into two distinct halves. The first half stands out for its emotional depth, going beyond mere storytelling and featuring some exceptional stories, with the first story 'My Sad Dead' being the standout and ‘Night Birds,’ amongst my favourites. However, the second half feels somewhat lacking the emotional impact of the first set of stories and veering towards more conventional writing. The recurring themes and use of Gothic and horror elements to explore social and political issues start to feel somewhat familiar. Despite this, it's a solid spooky read that will undoubtedly appeal to horror and thriller enthusiasts. I want to extend my gratitude to NetGalley and Granta for providing me with an eBook in exchange for my honest opinion.

I do always find this author's work intriguing, so when I saw her latest collection on Netgalley, I asked if I could read it and I'm glad I did as we get a new collection of weird, dark and political stories that reflect the lives of different women in horrifying and twisted ways.

I do think the stronger half of this are the first two stories - the characters she creates and shines a light on, are people I think I've met and so many I've met, that these stories feel like you're walking into a scene of people that you know and that she has written with pinpoint precision into these stories which make for story that really pull you in and allow you to live in them.

The tone in these stories vmake you feel like these stories are being told to you and just you alone, like you are in on this book from the beginning and something important is being shared with you on every page. This sort of autumn campfire energy creates a sort of menace in these stories that draws you in, especially in Face Of Disgrace in particular, which builds the tension until the very last line of the story.

Sure there are stories where I'm sat there thinking 'what did I just read?' but all in all this is a great collection that took me some time to read because these stories can really get to you. I'd definitely check for trigger warnings with these stories as they cover a range of things that effect women, violence against women in particular is something that is a major part of many of these stories.

I need to read something light after finishing this.

(Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC for honest review).

Argentine author Mariana Enríquez’s title stems from Somerset Maugham’s nickname for the French Riviera, a place with a perverse underbelly –explored by writers like F. Scott Fitzgerald. That notion of half-buried perversity works well to convey the flavour of Enríquez’s latest short-story collection. It taps into her ongoing fascination with ‘the dark side of the everyday,’ and the ways in which ‘horror flows from the real.’ Less pronounced horror, more weird fiction, Enríquez’s preoccupations here are consistent with earlier work. So, there’s an emphasis on the Junta’s legacies, unsettling echoes of its atrocities reverberating through an Argentina that’s never fully confronted the past. But equally Enríquez’s intent on exploring contemporary Argentina’s fault lines from femicide to corruption, urban decay and deep-seated, social inequality.

Enríquez opens with “My Sad Dead” set in a middle-class Buenos Aires enclave - indirectly referencing Rudolfo Fogwill’s writings about Argentina’s marginalised. Emma, divorced, former doctor, lives alone in an apartment complex. Her neighbours are obsessed with staving off local inhabitants they consider a threat - out to rob or terrorise them. I suspect their investment in gentrification, their security systems, their right-wing diatribes, their insistence on eye-for-an-eye justice, will be familiar to many readers, not just those linked to Argentina. For Emma this place is a potent reminder that ‘fascism starts with fear and then turns into hatred.” But Emma’s grief over her mother’s recent death opens her up to other ways of seeing. She’s accosted by ghostly presences who spark an awareness of harsh realities facing the less affluent communities close to Emma’s own. All of which forces Emma to contemplate her likely complicity in the crimes witnessed from her windows. It’s an admirably disciplined piece, meticulously detailed, moving and unsettling.

The title story that follows mirrors aspects of “My Sad Dead.” Enríquez fixes her gaze on contradictions inherent in American society, exposed through the experiences of an Argentine journalist visiting Los Angeles to research a feature. Enríquez draws on the real-life mystery surrounding the 2013 death of Elisa Lam, found decomposing in a water tank on the roof of the seedy Cecil Hotel. The Argentine journalist’s there to interview members of a cult that’s grown up around Lam, people camped out around the water tank awaiting the dead girl’s messages. The woman journalist travels through nearby streets filled with evidence of drug addiction, poverty and extensive homelessness. L.A. seems not that much different from Enríquez’s earlier portrait of Buenos Aires, except that L.A.s geographical divides between the haves and have-nots are that much wider.

The sinister “Face of Disgrace” centres on the policing and brutalisation of women, gender inequalities, damaging family dynamics. The frustratingly sketch-like “Julie” is inspired by the life of occultist Marjorie Cameron. Enríquez probes stigmas around “non-normative” bodies, while delving into colourism, as well as conflicts between those who stayed in Argentina during turbulent times and those who left. “Night Birds” moves away from Enriquez’s brand of skewed realism towards gothic, fairy tale. It’s set in Paraná famous for birds and bird-watching. But in Enriquez’s Paraná birds have an otherworldly appearance, seemingly transformations of human women. Enríquez’s narrative brings in Tupi-Guarani mythology for a macabre reimagining of surrealist artist Mildred Burton’s early life – here known as Milly. It’s a fragmentary piece that possibly works best viewed as an oblique tribute to an artist known for her commitment to human rights: her work with the mothers and grandmothers of those “disappeared” by the military junta; her artworks highlighting gender-based murder. Themes of gender and transformation are also central to “Metamorphosis.” Influenced by Cronenberg, it’s a vivid account of a woman undergoing medical menopause which constructs a searing critique of the treatment of women’s illnesses, the near-routine dismissal of their pain. But this particular woman finds a unique way to transform disregarded suffering into shining celebration.

In the powerful but uneven “Hyena Hymns” a gay couple temporarily escapes their stay with censorious parents to explore an abandoned building. Enríquez based this on an actual castle in the Argentine Pampas, once requisitioned for a concentration camp, one of many torture and detention centres scattered over Argentina during the military dictatorship. In a variation on stone tape theory and/or notions of place memory, the couple’s uncanny encounter inside its walls reflects Enríquez’s compulsion to address Argentina’s collective amnesia. Her story’s centred on notions of the repressed, troubled past spilling over into the present, invested in going beyond its facts to examine feelings these might stir. She combines this with observations on contemporary problems from poor urban management to corruption resulting in contaminated water supplies. “Different Colours Made of Tears” takes its name from the Velvet Underground’s “Venus in Fur.” But here the glamourous garb of a long-dead woman, offered to a vintage clothing store, harbours secrets of male domination and malevolent misogyny - Enríquez’s attempt to represent violence against women without reproducing it. It’s filled with striking imagery but feels a little underdeveloped as does “The Suffering Woman” which deals with fears around frailty and death.

The eerie “The Refrigerator Cemetery,” with its exploration of denial pierced by moments of devastating guilt, also blends the horrors of Argentina’s past with those of its present. It’s a striking piece set in an urban wasteland, its references to legends of immurement and child sacrifice suggestive of inverted folk horror. In the deliciously Lovecraftian “A Local Artist” a holidaying couple in an isolated spot get more than they bargained for when they visit a local artist whose reputation’s close to that of outlaw saint. Enríquez's final piece edges closer to full-on horror. “Black Eyes” follows a group of workers, assigned to feed a large homeless community, suddenly besieged by two bizarrely unnerving children.

Although not always entirely successful, Enríquez’s mutated realities are never less than arresting. Intriguing, sometimes outstanding, takes on generational trauma, on mortality, precarity, the silenced, and the displaced. Translated by Megan McDowell.

Excellent stories, a very balanced collection. As always, Enriquez delivers. Cannot wait for more of her stuff to be translated into English

I will never pass on a chance to read Mariana Enriquez! Our Share of Night is an all-timer for me and it was a treat to be back reading her short stories. This batch was, as expected, creepy, unsettling, gross and spooky.

One thing I really enjoyed about this collection was wondering when some of them would get weird. They just start out with regular people doing regular things. But rest assured things always do end up weird.

As with pretty much every short story collection, some are stronger than others. I loved The Suffering Woman, Different Colours Made of Tears, A Local Artist and Black Eyes. I would class myself as a scaredy cat but none of them were too much for me. Which means they might not be enough for others? I don't know, I think you can really appreciate what is being done here, you can appreciate the sometimes imperceptible twist from normal to deeply abnormal.

Enriquez never fails to unsettle me with her gothic writing. This anthology did feel different from her previous two works, not a bad different but refreshingly different. The first few stories I thought were a bit weaker, but gradually they built up and were amazing by the final stories. If you haven’t read this author I definitely recommend reading her other works first and then this collection.

Having not read many short stories before, it has been fantastic to try out a new author with Mariana Enríquez latest short story collection, A Sunny Place for Shady People.

I had the honour to review a digital ARC and now I have finished I’m here with my honest review. Though I had mix feelings about some of the stories, many of them really hit hard, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

Early on I was captivated with the spooky and creepy topics Enríquez writes about. Many of these stories encounter ghosts, monsters, cults, and even a few tails of metamorphosis. Though these were naturally very tense and haunting, it is the combination of this and the horrors of real life that really had me hooked. This book had a lot to say about the world.

Some of my favourite stories included The Sad Dead, Different Colour’s Made of Tears, and The Suffering Woman.

I’m definitely intrigued to read more from Enríquez, perhaps one of her longer novels to really get settled in to the atmosphere of here writing. Definitely can recommend for anyone looking for some a little more chilling for the spooky season!

A Sunny Place for Shady People by Mariana Enríquez, translated by Megan McDowell
⭐⭐⭐ 3.75 stars
Publication date: 26 September 2024
Thank you to Granta Publications and Netgalley for providing me with an e-copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Featuring achingly human characters whose lives intertwine with ghosts, the occult and the macabre, these stories explore love, womanhood, LGBTQ counterculture, parenthood and Argentina's brutal past.

Mariana Enriquez is an author I've wanted to read for a while and even though this collection didn't hit as hard as I was expecting and hoping it would, I will definitely read more from this author as I absolutely loved her writing.
This was dark and eerie, and there was some really good body horror (quite graphic in places so please be aware,) but I wish it had gone even darker and scarier. All the stories were atmospheric and disturbing, with added societal and cultural commentary, but my three favourites were My Sad Dead, Face of Disgrace and The Suffering Woman. Another story, Julie, disturbed me but not in the right way; the fatphobia was quite jarring and was an unpleasant note in an otherwise solid collection.

I didn't realise this would only be a snippet and just two short stories when I downloaded it.

However, I enjoyed the two that I read, the first one with the local artist more than the second story. The two stories that I did read were more unsettling than downright scary. Would I purchase the book to read the rest of the stories? Yes, most likely!

I’ve had Mariana Enriquez’s work on my to-be-read list for a while now, so I jumped at the chance to read this. Whilst this is my first foray into her work and Argentinian literature as a whole, I felt somewhat familiar with what to expect. I expected weird, dark and eerie short stories and that’s exactly what I got.

However I wanted weirder, darker and more haunting stories. Whilst some of these are on the cusp of this ultimately they all fall short. There are all the elements of horror - demon children, creepy clowns, and paranormal ghosts - but there isn’t much actual horror to these stories.

Also there is weird current references to TikTok and Funko pops, which just instantly erase any atmosphere which was being created.

Not sure how this compares to her other short story collections but ultimately wasn’t left impressed by this collection. I’m hoping Dangers of Smoking in Bed to be a better representation of her work, when I eventually read that.

Thank you to Granta Publications for providing the ARC in exchange for a honest review.

Enriquez does not cease to amaze me with her powerful imagery, metaphors, and prose (although this is mainly thanks to her translator). Like her previous collections, this also anatomizes the sociopolitical situation in Buenos Aires by exploring the gothic character and paranormal strangeness of the city and the people that populate it.

To paraphrase Wyatt Bray, “the new face (voice for our purposes) of fear”, Mariana Enriquez returns with another bag of spooky tales from the shores of Argentina. A Sunny Place for Shady People is at once the perfect description for L.A., but initially I thought it was a cheesy title without context. The stories deliver a blend of apparitions and body horror told in voices that somehow simultaneously come off as innocent and cynical. There is an ambiguity to many of the tales too, with often no concrete conclusion arrived at, which does sometimes have the effect of making me question if I haven’t fully understood a story, which given I am not a South American female may be the case or simply overthinking on my part.

Highlights of the collection come from the stories laden in unusual and haunting imagery. Julie involves some gagging for it ghosts, Face of Disgrace with its found and lost again kitten, Different Colors Made of Tears bedecked in vintage dresses hiding the ire of the previous owner and The Refrigerator Cemetery, which speaks for itself.

I’m not sure if this isn’t as inventive as The Dangers of Smoking in Bed or if it’s simply that you can’t catch lightning in a bottle as a reader repeatedly, but it didn’t live up to the memory of her previous collection.

Yet another banging collection of short stories of dread and horror from Enriquez, a true master of the genre, especially in the short story form, where her writing packs a particularly excellent punch. A little kaleidoscope of horrors and ill-ease.

Book Review: A Sunny Place for Shady People by Mariana Enriquez

Mariana Enriquez's A Sunny Place for Shady People is a collection of short stories that leans more towards the unsettling than the terrifying.

Some stories worked better for me than others, but overall, it was a solid read.

The last three stories are where Enriquez shines, saving the best for last. In particular, the story about the local artist was freaky!

This was overall a good collection of short stories. I found each story to be engaging and inventive, with a genuine horror twist. Though, none will keep you awake at night scared they will make you think. On the downside, each story blended into one another because most of them lacked individual voice and ended up sounding the same. In first-person narration of short stories, they need to be obviously different. The stories ended abruptly and open-ended, I would have liked a conclusion, but then I'm not the biggest fan of short stories.

I very rarely read body horror and this is not a genre I normally think I'll enjoy but these short stories were real little gems, with the horror creeping in slowly in the most normal environments. We follow several characters - in Argentina - and meet evil children, a woman whose face starts to blur, a woman who doesn't know what to do with her uterus after a hysterectomy, a blogger investigating paranormal events... I found them easy to get into and hard to forget.

Free ARC sent by Netgalley.

DNF'd at around 40%

Mariana Enriquez has been on my TBR list for a hot minute. In anticipation of the release of ‘A Sunny Place for Shady People’, I finally got around to reading ‘The Dangers of Smoking in Bed’ last month. I found a number of issues with it, including the use of the T slur, an inappropriate reference to enslavement, and a whole lot of fatphobia. Since I hadn’t seen many other mentions of this, I put it down to a one-off or a potential translation issue and continued to eagerly anticipate ‘A Sunny Place…’.

I was so hyped to receive an e-ARC of ‘A Sunny Place…’ through NetGalley because I’d already heard such great things. My reading experience started off well – I enjoyed the first story, found the next few okay but forgettable, and then BAM – the fourth story, ‘Julie’, was absolutely rife with fatphobia, not to mention sanism and ableism. I was fortunate to be buddy reading with a very insightful and value-aligned friend, so I had the chance to discuss this with a like-minded reader before ultimately making the decision to DNF.

I’ve also seen other reviewers mention how exploitative the use of Elisa Lam’s case was in the titular story. In hindsight, although I wasn’t very familiar with the case when reading, I have to agree.

I cannot recommend this one and would much rather spend my time reading and recommending short story collections that align with my values.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the e-ARC. All opinions are my own.

I've enjoyed Mariana Enriquez's previous short stories, but this collection unfortunately didn't work for me. They are horror stories, so designed to distburb, but something about the way they landed didn't work for me, and I didn't feel enough pay off for the stories. The voice felt very similar thorought too, with not much differentiating the main character of the stories.

This was interesting for the most part, and also incredibly weird and disturbing at the same time. I can't quite be sure if I love Mariana Enriquez's writing style, but her narrative storytelling is definitely one that hooks you in. I loved some stories, and felt perturbed by some, and I believe that 's pretty much Enriquez's signature -- so that's on brand at least. Will I recommend this to a friend? Probably. But it's definitely not for the squeamish, that's for sure.

Thank you Netgalley for providing me early access to this e-ARC.

3.5/5

4.5 ⭐️

Mariana Enriquez could write a grocery list and I would love (love!!) reading it. A Sunny Place For Shady People was a spooky joy to read. I can’t get enough of Enriquez’s writing — it’s such a delight.
The bonus of reading a collection of her short stories is that we get to experience different narrators and styles of storytelling. In this book all stories are spooky but a couple are straight up bonkers. Delightfully so. Mariana Enriquez is stupidly talented and I get all the warm and fuzzy and unsettling feelings when I read her books. I highly recommend A Sunny Place For Shady People as an eerie summer read.


❗️TW: It’s important to note that quite a few of the stories deal with cancer — directly or in passing — mentioning symptoms and treatment. And one story centres around a hysterectomy. If cancer is a sensitive subject for you (as it is for me), take extra care of yourself. ❤️