It’s official: Track of Words is now a Silvia Moreno-Garcia fan site! Well, I might be exaggerating a little bit, but it certainly feels that way. Prior to 2023 I had read three of her novels – Gods of Jade and Shadow, The Beautiful Ones and Certain Dark Things – and loved them all, but this year I’ve really ramped things up. Six months into the year and I’ve read one Moreno-Garcia novel each month, which brings me up to date with her entire novel catalogue! Having now caught up, I thought it might be fun to put together a sort of Moreno-Garcia landing page to provide an overview of her work, some suggestions for where to start, and links out to all of my reviews.
Someone asked me recently if there was one Moreno-Garcia book I would recommend over all the others, and I realised that I really couldn’t choose just one. To be honest, I struggle to pick any kind of favourites from among her books, or come up with any sort of ranking. The thing is, unlike most authors who at least start off by sticking to one genre, she shifts focus from book to book so that each one explores a different genre, a different kind of story. She also doesn’t write series: each novel is its own individual story. While that makes it tricky to recommend a place to start, I have tremendous admiration for her ability to write so well in so many different styles, and for a reading magpie like me it’s an absolute joy to follow her through all these genres.
But where to start then, if you’re new to Moreno-Garcia’s novels? Or where to go next if you’ve read some and are keen to read more? It’s not that helpful for me to say “just pick whichever one looks coolest”, so I’ve come up with a couple of (hopefully) useful tools for you. First, I’ve included a list of the novels by initial publication date, for those who either like to start at the beginning (although these are all standalone stories, and not interconnected) or just like to know this sort of information. After that, I’ve attempted to group her novels by the broadest categories, and then drill down into how each one fits into that grouping.
Publication Order
If you like reading books in their original order of publication then this list will help you out. I wouldn’t personally suggest you start at the beginning and read them in this order, as there’s no thematic or narrative requirement, but it could be an interesting approach. You can click on the links below to read my reviews:
- Signal to Noise (2015)
- Certain Dark Things (2016)
- The Beautiful Ones (2017)
- Gods of Jade and Shadow (2019)
- Untamed Shore (2020)
- Mexican Gothic (2020)
- Velvet Was the Night (2021)
- The Daughter of Doctor Moreau (2022)
- Silver Nitrate (2023)
Note that some novels, like Certain Dark Things and Untamed Shore, have had multiple releases. I’ve listed them here by their initial release, rather than subsequent reissues.
Next, let’s look at them by category – I’ve broken things down into SFF, Horror and Noir. For each book I’ve included the publisher’s synopsis, a snippet of my review for flavour, a few words about the book as a whole, and a link out to my full review.
SFF
One of the things I love about Moreno-Garcia’s writing is that while she includes a lot of speculative or fantastical elements, they’re never the focal point of the story. The magic, for lack of a better word, never takes away from the plot or the characters, and is always there for a purpose – never just for the sake of it. It’s always something different too, sometimes very obviously fantastical, other times just something subtle. With that in mind, I’ve grouped four of her books together under the heading ‘SFF’, and ordered them (roughly – it’s not an exact science!) in decreasing order of speculative-ness.
Gods of Jade and Shadow
The Jazz Age is in full swing, but Casiopea Tun is too busy cleaning the floors of her wealthy grandfather’s house to listen to any fast tunes. Nevertheless, she dreams of a life far from her dusty small town in southern Mexico. A life she can call her own. Yet this new life seems as distant as the stars, until the day she finds a curious wooden box in her grandfather’s room. She opens it – and accidentally frees the spirit of the Mayan god of death, who requests her help in recovering his throne from his treacherous brother. Failure will mean Casiopea’s demise, but success could make her dreams come true.
In the company of the strangely alluring god and armed with her wits, Casiopea begins an adventure that will take her on a cross-country odyssey from the jungles of Yucatán to the bright lights of Mexico City—and deep into the darkness of the Mayan underworld.
I said: “A darkly beautiful fairy tale melding fantasy with Maya mythology in a gorgeous story of quiet dreams, unexpected adventure and fratricidal gods.”
This was my first Moreno-Garcia novel, and I’d say it’s probably the most overtly ‘fantasy’ of the lot – it does, after all, feature the Mayan god of death! Really though it’s a blend of fantasy, fairytale and mythology, and a bit of a road trip around Mexico too, all combined in a tremendously entertaining adventure story.
Read my review of Gods of Jade and Shadow.
Signal to Noise
Mexico City, 1988: Long before iTunes or MP3s, you said “I love you” with a mixtape. Meche, awkward and fifteen, has two equally unhip friends – Sebastian and Daniela – and a whole lot of vinyl records to keep her company. When she discovers how to cast spells using music, the future looks brighter for the trio. With help from this newfound magic, the three friends will piece together their broken families, change their status as non-entities, and maybe even find love…
Mexico City, 2009: Two decades after abandoning the metropolis, Meche returns for her estranged father’s funeral. It’s hard enough to cope with her family, but then she runs into Sebastian, and it revives memories from her childhood she thought she buried a long time ago. What really happened back then? What precipitated the bitter falling out with her father? And, is there any magic left?
I said: “An intriguing tale of music, magic and the recklessness of youth that introduced the world to Moreno-Garcia’s genre-hopping talents.”
Moreno-Garcia’s debut novel, this is resolutely real world but with the addition of music-as-magic, by way of listening to vinyl records. I think it’s particularly impactful for those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s, and felt like we were on the outside looking in as Meche, Sebastian and Daniela do. With its split timeline though, it’s a fascinating exploration of someone looking back at their childhood and coming to terms with what happened.
Read my review of Signal to Noise.
The Daughter of Doctor Moreau
Carlota Moreau: a young woman, growing up in a distant and luxuriant estate, safe from the conflict and strife of the Yucatán peninsula. The only daughter of either a genius, or a madman.
Montgomery Laughton: a melancholic overseer with a tragic past and a propensity for alcohol. An outcast who assists Dr. Moreau with his scientific experiments, which are financed by the Lizaldes, owners of magnificent haciendas and plentiful coffers.
The hybrids: the fruits of the Doctor’s labour, destined to blindly obey their creator and remain in the shadows. A motley group of part human, part animal monstrosities.
All of them living in a perfectly balanced and static world, which is jolted by the abrupt arrival of Eduardo Lizalde, the charming and careless son of Doctor Moreau’s patron, who will unwittingly begin a dangerous chain reaction. For Moreau keeps secrets, Carlota has questions, and in the sweltering heat of the jungle, passions may ignite.
I said: “A deliciously slow-burn story that blends vintage science fiction with a little romance, hints of horror, and even classic adventure, with the typically rich and detailed storytelling typical of Moreno-Garcia’s writing.”
This one is Moreno-Garcia’s take on old school science fiction, perhaps unsurprisingly as it’s a retelling of Wells’ novel, but like many SF classics it really doesn’t feel all that speculative. Sure, there are the doctor’s hybrids, but mostly this is a coming of age story, as Carlota gradually comes to understand who she is and who her father is. It’s beautifully grounded in its historical period too, exploring the cultural and racial complexities of 19th century Mexico.
Read my review of The Daughter of Doctor Moreau.
The Beautiful Ones
They are the Beautiful Ones, Loisail’s most notable socialites, and this spring is Nina’s chance to join their ranks, courtesy of her well-connected cousin and his calculating wife. But the Grand Season has just begun, and already Nina’s debut has gone disastrously awry. She has always struggled to control her telekinesis – neighbours call her the Witch of Oldhouse – and the haphazard manifestations of her powers make her the subject of malicious gossip.
When entertainer Hector Auvray arrives in town, Nina is dazzled. A telekinetic like her, he has travelled the world performing his talents for admiring audiences. He sees Nina not as a witch, but ripe with potential to master her power under his tutelage. With Hector’s help, Nina’s talent blossoms, as does her love for him.
But great romances are for fairytales, and Hector is hiding a truth from Nina – and himself – that threatens to end their courtship before it truly begins. The Beautiful Ones is a charming tale of love and betrayal, and the struggle between conformity and passion, set in a world where scandal is a razor-sharp weapon.
I said: “A rich and characterful social drama and a slow-burn tale of a romantic love triangle, with the carefully observed characters and social customs of a novel of manners, and a dash of telekinesis added in for a little bit of a fantasy edge.”
This is definitely the least speculative of these books, being essentially a novel of manners…just in an alternative 19th century France, with a tiny bit of telekinesis thrown in for good measure. Take away the telekinesis and what you have is a slow-burn courtly romance, a beautifully told period drama with all the complex character interactions you’d expect and a powerful emotional centre.
Read my review of The Beautiful Ones.
Horror
I’m honestly not that much of a horror reader, but the way Moreno-Garcia tackles the genre somehow seems to really appeal to me. So even if, like me, you’re not normally into horror that much, I’d still recommend giving these a look.
Silver Nitrate
Montserrat has always been overlooked. She’s a talented sound editor, but she’s left out of the boys’ club running the film industry in ’90s Mexico City. And she’s all but invisible to her best friend, Tristán, a charming if faded soap opera star, though she’s been in love with him since childhood.
Then Tristán discovers his new neighbour is the cult horror director Abel Urueta, and the legendary auteur claims he can change their lives – even if his tale of a Nazi occultist imbuing magic into highly volatile silver nitrate stock sounds like sheer fantasy. The magic film was never finished, which is why, Urueta swears, his career vanished overnight. He is cursed.
Now the director wants Montserrat and Tristán to help him shoot the missing scene and lift the curse . . . but Montserrat soon notices a dark presence following her, and Tristán begins seeing the ghost of his ex-girlfriend. As they work together to unravel the mystery of the film and the obscure occultist who once roamed their city, Montserrat and Tristán may find that sorcerers and magic are not only the stuff of movies.
I said: “Mexican horror movies, golden age cinema and Nazi occultism combine to great effect…come for the vintage horror references and the occult rituals, but stay for the test of friendship and the clever blend of magic and movies.”
At the time of writing this is Moreno-Garcia’s latest novel, and it’s another cracker. This was the only book that I even briefly considered as the one book to recommend over the others – in the end I still don’t think it makes sense to pick just one, but this is definitely up there as one of my favourites. There’s something about that combination of elements that just works perfectly, and I really couldn’t put this down.
Read my review of Silver Nitrate.
Mexican Gothic
After receiving a frantic letter from her newly-wed cousin begging for someone to save her from a mysterious doom, Noemí Taboada heads to High Place, a distant house in the Mexican countryside. She’s not sure what she will find – her cousin’s husband, a handsome Englishman, is a stranger, and Noemí knows little about the region.
Noemí is also an unlikely rescuer: She’s a glamorous debutante, and her chic gowns and perfect red lipstick are more suited for cocktail parties than amateur sleuthing. But she’s also tough and smart, with an indomitable will, and she is not afraid: Not of her cousin’s new husband, who is both menacing and alluring; not of his father, the ancient patriarch who seems to be fascinated by Noemí; and not even of the house itself, which begins to invade Noemí’s dreams with visions of blood and doom.
Her only ally in this inhospitable abode is the family’s youngest son. Shy and gentle, he seems to want to help Noemí, but might also be hiding dark knowledge of his family’s past. For there are many secrets behind the walls of High Place. The family’s once colossal wealth and faded mining empire kept them from prying eyes, but as Noemí digs deeper she unearths stories of violence and madness. And Noemí, mesmerised by the terrifying yet seductive world of High Place, may soon find it impossible to ever leave this enigmatic house behind.
I said: “I like a good creepy house story, and High Place certainly proves decidedly sinister (as do its inhabitants) as Noemí gradually learns its secrets, in both her waking and sleeping hours.”
This is probably her best-known novel, but it’s actually the one I enjoyed the least. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy it, just not to the same extent as the others. The creepiness that lurks beneath the surface at High Place is properly nasty though, so definitely check it out if you like the idea of this sort of eerie gothic horror.
Read my review of Mexican Gothic.
Certain Dark Things
Welcome to Mexico City, an oasis in a sea of vampires. Domingo, a lonely garbage-collecting street kid, is just trying to survive its heavily policed streets when a jaded vampire on the run swoops into his life. Atl, the descendant of Aztec blood drinkers, is smart, beautiful, and dangerous. Domingo is mesmerised.
Atl needs to quickly escape the city, far from the rival narco-vampire clan relentlessly pursuing her. Her plan doesn’t include Domingo, but little by little, Atl finds herself warming up to the scrappy young man and his undeniable charm. As the trail of corpses stretches behind her, local cops and crime bosses both start closing in.
Vampires, humans, cops, and criminals collide in the dark streets of Mexico City. Do Atl and Domingo even stand a chance of making it out alive? Or will the city devour them all?
I said: “A vampire-noir novel that confidently blends style with substance to deliver a darkly compelling tale of undead cartels, ancient alliances and unlikely friendship on the streets of Mexico City.”
I was torn between classifying this as horror or fantasy, and to be honest it’s sort of both. If I’d included it under fantasy it would be right at the top of that selection – things don’t come much more fantastical than vampires, after all! This is the one book I wish Moreno-Garcia would go back to for a sequel, as the world of feuding vampire clans she’s created is just so beautifully developed and ripe for further exploration!
Read my review of Certain Dark Things.
Noir
These are the Moreno-Garcia books to look at if you’re less keen on the speculative stuff – there are no vampires here, no magic or gods or creepy mushrooms, just regular people dealing with regular (albeit pretty horrible) problems.
Untamed Shore
Baja California, 1979: Viridiana spends her days under the harsh sun, watching the fishermen pulling in their nets and the dead sharks piled beside the seashore. Her head is filled with dreams of romance, travel and of a future beyond this drab town where her only option is to marry and have children.
When a wealthy American writer arrives with his wife and brother-in-law, Viridiana jumps at the offer of a job as his assistant, and she’s soon entangled in the glamorous foreigners’ lives. They offer excitement, and perhaps an escape from her humdrum life. When one of them dies, eager to protect her new friends, Viridiana lies – but soon enough, someone’s asking questions. It’s not long before Viridiana has some of her own questions about the identities of her new acquaintances.
Sharks may be dangerous, but there are worse predators nearby, ready to devour a naive young woman unwittingly entangled in a web of deceit.
I said: “A dark, slow-burn noir; a coming of age story that deals with the gradual burning away of innocence and a deliberate sense of transformation.”
Moreno-Garcia’s books always feel grounded in Mexico as a setting, but there’s something about this one that seems to really bring its locations to life. Right from the opening scene you can almost feel the sun and the heat, and the smell of the sharks as they’re laid out on the beach. This is perhaps a little more low-key than many of her books, but it’s one of my favourites.
Read my review of Untamed Shore.
Velvet Was the Night
Mexico in the 1970s is a dangerous country, even for Maite, a secretary who spends her life seeking the romance found in cheap comic books and ignoring the activists protesting around the city. When her next-door neighbour, the beautiful art student Leonora, disappears under suspicious circumstances, Maite finds herself searching for the missing woman – and journeying deeper into Leonora’s secret life of student radicals and dissidents.
Mexico in the 1970s is a politically fraught land, even for Elvis, a goon with a passion for rock ’n’ roll who knows more about kidney-smashing than intrigue. When Elvis is assigned to find Leonora, he begins a blood-soaked search for the woman – and his soul.
Swirling in parallel trajectories, Maite and Elvis attempt to discover the truth behind Leonora’s disappearance, encountering hitmen, government agents, and Russian spies. Because Mexico in the 1970s is a noir where life is cheap and the price of truth is high.
I said: “A small-stakes, character-driven tale of two very different people struggling for identity in a city wracked by political turmoil.”
This one is very much a historical noir, with the backdrop of dissidence and unrest proving crucial to the characters and the story. Maite and Elvis prove to be fascinating characters too, both far more complex than they appear on the surface, and their slow-burn movements are brilliant to follow. Oh, and it might just have my favourites of all the covers.
Read my review of Velvet Was the Night.
***
So there you go, I hope that was useful as a roundup of what to expect from Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s novels. In case it hasn’t been clear enough, I’m a huge fan of these books and I really hope you enjoy digging into them too, exploring the fascinating themes that can be found in them: female-centred storytelling, Mexico as a beautifully described backdrop, ordinary people as protagonists, the outcasts and the socially awkward, and a wonderful thread of music running throughout.
If you haven’t already, definitely check out some of my reviews in the links above, and happy reading!
For more information, see Silvia’s website.
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