Moreno-Garcia's Silver Nitrate (2023): Your Magic is Strong, but Mine is Stronger
In honor of the re-release of Untamed Shore, here is a review of the latest novel from SMG.
My favorite part of the Silvia Moreno-Garcia universe is always the protagonist. Her protagonists are the outcasts; the intellectually strong, yes, but off-color, the April Ludgates of the world, if you will. They’re weirdos, perhaps, but they are firm, solid, and strong. They aren’t always the most beautiful, but, to quote the male protagonist from Silver Nitrate, they have “their angles.” They feel like real, thinking humans. They feel like our friends, or maybe even us, particularly because their decisions derive from logic; they don't make silly choices to propel the plot along, but rather are quick to figure out the nefarious plot often happening against them and act accordingly. They are not damsels in distress. This is part of the brilliance of Moreno-Garcia's oeuvre. The author herself is the original cool girl with the solid playlists that accompany the publication of her novels as a striking example. Have you listened to the one distributed by her publisher Random House for Mexican Gothic? It's a vibe.
In her latest novel, Silver Nitrate (2023), Moreno-Garcia once again infuses her carefully crafted plot with deeper ideas. If cinema is at a moment of elevated horror, then Moreno-Garcia has helped usher its literary genre equivalent. Questions of race, socio-economic divisions, misogyny, and globalization massage meaning to the plot that deals with Nazi occultism and Mexican horror films. Has that alone hooked you yet?
Told in third person perspective, the novel has two protagonists with each chapter alternating POV. Montserrat—or Momo, to the initiated—is our female protagonist, the aforementioned strong weirdo. Tristán, the male protagonist, is Momo's best friend since childhood. The novel finds them in their late thirties, both working in the film industry; Momo as a sound engineer, Tristán as an actor. An important note: Tristán's family originally hails from Beirut, although the specificity of Northern Mexico (flour tortilla v. corn tortilla) also figures into his cultural richness. Among questions of race, he complicates the idea of what “Mexican” is. Moreno-Garcia seemingly wishes to challenge her largely American audience into reconsidering the diversity of its Southern neighbor.
The specificity of setting and place anchors the story, so that it’s not a simple set of speculative work meant to entertain, but also to provoke thought. Its particular setting, 1993 Mexico, points to a moment where American culture began to dominate, both in cinema and in general throughout the country. When the speculative does arrive fully formed in the text, it is fantastic, in both senses of the word. The novel drives at fundamental questions about film and it uses; likewise, questions of the nature of fear point to the lessons learned by our protagonists.
It's difficult to discuss the specificity of the novel's strengths without spoiling it. I think this novel is best read without any further details. But if you wish to get in the Halloween spirit, I could not recommend enough Silver Nitrate. Runes, spirits, vegvisirs, and Nazis: what more could you want?
(French) Notes:
Throughout the novel, I was convinced that the inspiration for the name "Clarimonde" came from Theophile Gautier’s short story “La morte amoureuse” (translation: "The Loving Dead") until the afterward explained it came from a different story. Still, I highly recommend Gautier's short story for anyone who wants more of the speculative.
The afterward didn't make any mention of this, but the French café’s name "Maupassant" must be an allusion to Guy de Maupaussant, an important figure of the fantastic/gothic movement of the 19th century (when Maupassant dappled in genres other than realism). To get your Maupassant fix, please read "Le Horla." You will not regret it.