I was offered a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. This review may contain spoilers.
How to describe the hold Weep, Woman, Weep had over me? How to describe the torment I went through each time I had to put it down to answer the phone in work? How to describe the warm fuzzy feeling coursing through my bones when I finally came to the final pages, satiated on female power and evocative storytelling?
All I can do is give the book five stars and try my best.
First things first: this is not a long book. It’s barely even split into chapters. Despite this, it’s packed full of local legends, witchcraft, bone-chilling descriptions, and some of the strongest character work I’ve ever seen. Told in first person, the book chronicles Mercy’s life as she treads the edge of a supernatural hold on her soul through childhood, all the way through to her adult years, where she shakes the curse once and for all. Mercy saturates this book. She’s such a likeable, appealing, relatable character that it’s hard to stop hearing her voice outside of the pages. Her determination and her stubbornness are beautifully refreshing, as is the care she gives to everything she touches. The book focuses more on her own personal journey rather than an outward one, and so her quest to rid herself of La Llorona’s hold is mostly internal. The way she comes into who she’s meant to be, the quiet realisation that maybe she’s been that person all along, is sudden and gradual at the same time – it makes your heart flutter and fills you with that warm fuzziness I mentioned earlier.
The horror in this book is subtle, but not to be underestimated. DeBlassie did an excellent job at taking La Llorona and weaving her own story around her. It’s such an original and captivating tale, with far-reaching implications that are honestly scarier than the image of the watery woman herself. Similarly, the witchcraft or magic, whichever you like, in this book is understated. That’s my favourite kind of witchcraft: nothing to do with spells or incantations, just a connection to the land and a gentle hand. Mercy’s power, for the most part, is internal, and that’s essential to overcoming the grip La Llorona has on her.
I can’t write this review without mentioning the absolutely poetic nature of DeBlassie’s prose. Somehow capturing Mercy’s voice while simultaneously being beautifully poetic, Weep, Woman, Weep has the delicacy of magical realism with horror elements added in. It’s a story crafted with careful hands and one that DeBlassie should absolutely be proud of; if I’d written this, I’d never shut up about it.
Do not miss out on Weep, Woman, Weep this spooky season.
Check out the book on Amazon and Goodreads.
About the book
A compelling gothic fairytale by bruja and award-winning writer Maria DeBlassie.
The women of Sueño, New Mexico don’t know how to live a life without sorrows. That’s La Llorona’s doing. She roams the waterways looking for the next generation of girls to baptize, filling them with more tears than any woman should have to hold. And there’s not much they can do about the Weeping Woman except to avoid walking along the riverbank at night and to try to keep their sadness in check. That’s what attracts her to them: the pain and heartache that gets passed down from one generation of women to the next.
Mercy knows this, probably better than anyone. She lost her best friend to La Llorona and almost found a watery grave herself. But she survived. Only she didn’t come back quite right and she knows La Llorona won’t be satisfied until she drags the one soul that got away back to the bottom of the river.
In a battle for her life, Mercy fights to break the chains of generational trauma and reclaim her soul free from ancestral hauntings by turning to the only things that she knows can save her: plant medicine, pulp books, and the promise of a love so strong not even La Llorona can stop it from happening. What unfolds is a stunning tale of one woman’s journey into magic, healing, and rebirth.
About the author
Maria DeBlassie, Ph.D. is a native New Mexican mestiza blogger, award-winning writer, and award-winning educator living in the Land of Enchantment. Her first book, Everyday Enchantments: Musings on Ordinary Magic & Daily Conjurings (Moon Books 2018), and her ongoing blog, Enchantment Learning & Living are about everyday magic, ordinary gothic, and the life of a kitchen witch. When she is not practicing her own brand of brujeria, she’s reading, teaching, and writing about bodice rippers and things that go bump in the night. She is forever looking for magic in her life and somehow always finding more than she thought was there.
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