In a near-future Mexico City that has declared its independence as a city-state, crime and corruption may run rampant, but
it has a reputation as one of the few areas of the Americas free from any species of vampire. At least, it's supposed to be.
While other nations have varied in their reactions to the revelation that various vampire species were real, ranging from
outright expulsion to legal repression, Mexico City's powerful street cartels united and drove the blood-drinkers out, keeping
them out to this day. But when homeless teenager Domingo, scraping a living as a garbage collector on the city streets, meets
the strange dark-eyed woman on the subway with her gene-modded guardian dog, he learns there's at least one vampire in the
city limits... and she's in trouble.
Atl, descendant of vampires who used to be warrior-priests in the days of the Aztecs and now run profitable drug cartels in
northern Mexico, used to be the spoiled baby of her family. Then a power struggle with new, thuggish European "necros",
vampires with powers of mind control over their victims, left her entire family dead and her on the run. If she can make it to
Central or South America, where laws are less stringent and the reach of the necros is reduced, she might find safety, but
with increasing security at border crossings, she needs fake ID and other assistance, and her only possible contact is in the
ostensibly vampire-free zone of Mexico City. But even a fugitive vampire needs to eat now and again. When she met the young
man on the subway, she only thought to pay him for a little fresh blood and his silence. Soon, though, Domingo becomes swept
up in her problems, when a son of her family's rivals follows her to Mexico City intent on ending her clan once and for
all.
Review
Certain Dark Things draws on Central and South American traditions and the long history of its setting in Mexico
City to create a vampire story with a distinctly different flavor. It also flips the common trope of the masculine protector
vampire seducing the helpless human lady. Domingo, who grew up in rough conditions and has perhaps an unhealthy obsession
with comic books and popular graphic novel depictions of vampires, may not quite be helpless, but he definitely has a lot to
learn about the reality of the beings he's loved for so long, and despite the harshness of his situation and upbringing he
retains an optimistic romanticism that both blinds him and gives him fuel to keep pushing ahead as things grow increasingly
dark and desperate. Atl, meanwhile, struggles with feelings of guilt and trauma from the slaughter of her family, plus mixed
feelings about taking on a human assistant - a "Renfield", as they're known in vampire circles, loyal servants bonded by
blood - when she should be trying to keep a low profile and escape. There's also a woman police detective, jaded by the harsh
reality behind promises of "reform" and equality in the notoriously lackadaisical and corrupt force, whose experiences
hunting vampires before coming to Mexico City come in surprisingly handy when not one, but two vampires turn up in a city
with no idea how to handle them, as well as the immature rival necro vampire Nick, whose hot temper and sadistic feeding
habits create more trouble for everyone. As with most vampire fiction, there's an air of tragedy and horror over the whole
tale, especially where human and vampire lives mingle... particularly vampires like Atl's race, who embrace the old Aztec
core values of sacrifice being an inevitable, unavoidable part of life. The plot wends through the grit and dark history of
Mexico City's streets, ratcheting up the stakes and tension, until it reaches a finale that stumbles enough I almost shaved
a half-star off the rating. Though it feels fairly complete, the set-up and characters might carry sequels or spinoffs.
Ultimately, the overall originality of the setting, and the fact that the ending, even with its stumbles, did play into the
overall theme of the book, managed to keep it afloat at four stars. I'm definitely interested in reading more from this
author
If stars have any influence over a person's life, Casiopea Tun was born under the blackest, unluckiest star of all. Her
mother's family disliked her even before she was born, daughter of a dark native Indian man instead of a proper light-skinned
and wealthy man, and not a day goes by when her grandfather, aunts, uncles, and cousins let her forget her ignoble origins.
She's little more than a servant in the wealthy family home, the most prominent in their southern Mexico village, far from
the bright lights and fast music and scandalous fashions of the Jazz Age sweeping the globe. Much as she chafes, her mother
keeps reminding her that wealth does not make one good or happy. Besides, her cruel grandfather has promised them one thousand
pesos each on his passing - which must surely be any day now, at his age. So she keeps quiet (mostly) as she does chores
(begrudgingly), tucking her dreams away for a nebulous future that will never be... until her cruelest cousin, Martín,
tells her the old man's promise is so much smoke, that there is no money and never will be, and as soon as the old man passes
she and her mother will serve him and his horrible whims instead.
Perhaps that's why she succumbed to temptation the day she was left all alone in the house and found the key to her
grandfather's locked wooden chest. Or perhaps it was her unlucky star again, or the forces of fate. Within, she finds no
treasure, no secret, but a pile of bones... a pile that, before her eyes, reconstitutes itself into the figure of a man... or,
rather, a god.
Many years ago, the Mayan god of death, Hun-Kamé, was betrayed by his jealous twin brother, Vucub-Kamé, who had a
different vision for their fading realm of Xibalba, a vision that involves a return to the old ways of war and blood sacrifices
across the land. Having released his bones from their prison, Casiopea's fate becomes inextricably tied with his: the god of
death cannot walk the mortal world for long, so every moment he is here he draws life essence from her. Unless he finds his
missing parts - an eye, an ear, a finger, and his jade necklace of power - both of them will perish, possibly in a matter of
days. But his brother soon learns of his escape, and isn't about to give up his stolen throne or his dark plans...
Review
Gods of Jade and Shadow draws on Mexican and Mayan roots, grounded firmly in both the post-revolutionary 1920's
country and the ancient mythology to create a modern (or near-modern) fairy tale with a decidedly non-European flavor.
Casiopea is stubborn and somewhat embittered by a hard and thankless life, still mourning a father nobody save her mother seems
to miss (and sometimes she questions whether her mom regrets her choice of husband, given how low it brought them upon the man's
death, living as servants to her own moneyed family), clinging to her secret dreams even as part of her seems to suspect they'll
never be more than that. In Hun-Kamé's company, she finds herself whisked off on an adventure literally out of legend and
story: their first stop is to meet a demon for information on the whereabouts of the god's missing ear. Even as she understands
the gravity and danger, she can't help enjoying what little taste of freedom the quest gives her, for all that the risks are
very real, for herself and Hun-Kamé and the whole of Mexico and beyond should Vucub-Kamé succeed. As for the god,
he starts aloof and hard as stone, befitting his immortal nature as something more like an archetype or concept (the gods here
know themselves to be shaped by mortal minds, and subject to fates beyond their control), but his time on Earth and his bond
with Casiopea bring him closer and closer to mortality in more ways than he anticipated. Meanwhile, Vucub-Kamé recruits
brash, arrogant Martín as his own mortal agent. The tale wends through various odd encounters and odder characters, always
with a certain fairy tale sheen that lends everything a larger than life aspect, before reaching a somewhat bittersweet
conclusion. Sometimes the narrative felt a bit distance, holding the characters and situations at arm's length, and once in a
while things moved by unexplained rules I probably would've understood more had I been more intimately familiar with Mayan
culture and worldviews, but all in all it was a refreshingly different tale, a glimpse at a different mindset and part of the
world than I normally see.
