Gabe and his best friends are tight as brothers. They came up together through school, banded together under a simple macho credo: Anyone who messes with one of them messes with all of them. So, if Tavo gets flack for being gay, his brothers have his back. If Xavier inadvertently winds up on the wrong side of a group of clubbing guys, they help him out.
When someone shoots Bimbo’s mother in the face outside the Lazer club, Gabe, Paul, Tavo, Xavier are there for their brother. First to help him grieve and then to have his back when he swears to kill the shooters responsible. Little do they realize that they are opening up cans of worms they might not be equipped to handle.
The shooting stinks of organized crime. And their investigation reveals that the killers are known allies of the local crime boss, Papalote, whose rep is not merely for sadism and cruelty but for allegiances with the inhuman powers that dwell in the waters around Puerto Rico. However, when one of their own is then the next victim of these maniacs, Gabe and his surviving brothers will put up or shut up. If they bitch out now, they might survive and save their loved ones from further reprisal. If they commit, they will have to be ready to kill and kill and kill.
And with a hurricane brewing, bringing in all manner of bad mojo and luck, they might actually be squaring off against dark powers they don’t understand. Those powers are hungry things, sowers of despair and destruction, and when they ride the winds into Gabe’s neighborhood, all hell is waiting to break loose.
Gabino Iglesias has built his own kind of weird crime stories ever since his first major novel, Zero Saints. This latest book, House of Bone and Rain, is also given the title page description of A Barrio Noir, and it builds on the sorts of passions found in Iglesias’ earlier books. There’s the gut-wrenching violence and supernatural threads from Zero Saints, the many characters whose perspectives provide a fuller picture of the world as shown in Coyote Songs, a terrific sense for the nasty ways folklore and horror can weave into the everyday worlds as shown in The Devil Takes You Home. This time, Iglesias gives us a clear view of both Puerto Rico as a character in its own right (America’s unfortunate colony, mistreated and overlooked throughout our shared history) as well as a close-knit group of men instead of the lone operators we’ve seen in the past. Best of all, there is a stronger female presence this time around.
That last item is surprising in many ways, particularly since the female presence is not the expected girlfriends, mistresses, and young women we might expect from the crime fiction side of the equation. Sure, we have a few girlfriends on display here—Bimbo’s Dominican fiancée for money, Altagracia, plays a role as do Gabe’s voice of reason and restraint, Natalia, and Paul’s gal Cynthia. However, the strongest female presence throughout the book, the one that takes up most of the inner monologuing and hand wringing is not these women. No, this book is rather obsessed with mothers. Bimbo’s mom is the catalyst for the action, Gabe is (rightfully) concerned about his own mother’s safety at numerous points throughout the text. There’s a cutaway to a Altagracia’s mother in the Dominican Republic, who is seeing visions of her own mother while also communicating with her daughter via some kind of spooky empathic connection. There’s a tangential chapter involving a mother’s sacrifices to seek vengeance against the man who stole into her house intending to steal earthy possessions and ended up robbing her of the most valuable thing on earth. This is as much a book about mothers as it is about five dudes seeking revenge. It’s a book that suggests the road mothers walk is not an easy one—this is no country for old moms. It is as cruel to them as it is to the protagonist and his pals, these guys who transgress against societal mores in order to find some kind of justice. And yet, with the many forms of cruelty evident throughout the book—there is brutality and action aplenty, including a rather memorable, trippy fight scene with an opponent whose otherworldliness takes a couple of forms including the ability to seemingly move from one part of a room to another without taking a visible step—Iglesias always leaves some room between tense scenes for his protagonist’s gang to be guys, cracking jokes, finding their shared moment of peace together.
However, House of Bone and Rain is not merely an action movie for the mind’s eye, where a moment of quips can alleviate the horror of extreme violence or the cost some deeds have upon the heart, mind, or body. Some of what Bimbo asks his friends to do will ultimately serve to the detriment of the group’s internal structure. Paul is not one to stick his neck out unnecessarily, though he’s also not one to leave his friends hanging, and that complexity of character adds in believable drama.
There is an intriguing air of mystery to the supernatural as the book gets underway and brings the hurricane to the island. Once some of the elements are better revealed, readers will see some familiar elements juxtaposed with the unfamiliar. This book certainly has an affection for the pulpier horrors of one of the leading writers from the Weird Tales school, and there are nods to that author throughout. However, the text is always reinventing what’s come before, seeing how varied the world can be and what effect interesting different perspectives and cultural approaches to the stuff of classic horror can have.
According to the acknowledgements, this is a book that has been in various states for quite some time. Drawing on the author’s own experiences coming of age in Puerto Rico, the book was first attempted at the end of the ‘90s. 20+ years on, the author found the confidence in his craft to complete it. So, there is an intriguing blend of the energetic young writer rubbing shoulders with the more experience and craft-oriented one in a story that blends lucid, autobiographical details with a compelling crime yarn and a cool as hell supernatural horror one.
While the conclusion feels a tad more rushed than it needs to be, suggesting the author wanted to put this one to bed already. And yet, the book nevertheless offers a satisfying conclusion to what we’ve read. This is the sort of book that is difficult to set aside, even when the last page is written, the kind of story where I want to stick around a little longer, feel with these characters, see their failures and successes, their bad calls and their attempts to redeem themselves, hang out for the next, unwritten scenes.
Iglesias again presents the way people talk in an authentic manner. The dialogue is a mix of Spanish and English, the former often without specific translation. This time around, however, there are a few passages that require translation, often for words echoed throughout the book. All stories, Gabe remarks, are ghost stories. (Todos las historias son historias de fantasmas).
This infusion of English and Spanish should come as no surprise to anyone who’s read somewhat widely. Cormac McCarthy’s Border Trilogy (All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing, Cities on the Plain), No Country for Old Men, and other works offers up a similar fusion of languages in the dialogue. As well, Caitlin R. Kiernan infuses romance languages into their dark fiction (e.g., Black Helicopters). Like McCarthy, Iglesias provides the context to allow a reader to infer meaning and intent, even if there is no direct translation.
All told, House of Bone and Rain is yet another example of Gabino Iglesias’ cool as hell fusion of crime fiction with weirder elements. The action is well written, the characters are complex, the constant sense of a noose squeezing around these characters is palpable. While the mythology of the otherworldly relies more on more familiar pulp horror elements than we’ve seen in previous books, Iglesias is not content to regurgitate these in expected ways. There is always room for new spins on those familiar elements, and Iglesias successfully finds a different approach.
It’s another fine read from an author knocking words out at the top of his game. I can’t wait to see where the author will go with his future works.
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A special thank you to Mulholland Books and NetGalley for providing an advance copy in exchange for an honest assessment.
House of Bone and Rain is available in hardcover, eBook, and audiobook editions.
Next, we will take a look at the forthcoming novel from author Romina Garber. Castle of the Cursed tells the story of a young woman who finds herself confronting a host of secrets and lies she’s been told following the death of her parents in a freak tragedy aboard a New York subway. Her roots are in Spain, connected with a small-town doctor who nevertheless lives in a crumbling castle. Moving to that strange home will open up shocking revelations aplenty … and some threats to body, mind, and soul as well. The book is available for pre-order in hardcover, eBook, and audiobook editions.
“All Stories Are Ghost Stories: Gabino Iglesias’ House of Bone and Rain” is copyright © 2024 by Daniel R. Robichaud. Cover image taken from the Mulholland Books eBook edition, released in 2024.
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