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A review by mindsplinters
Weep, Woman, Weep by Maria DeBlassie
challenging
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
A gorgeous gothic-flavored modern fairy tale about generational trauma and finding yourself and learning how to heal yourself... and, sometimes, others. This book was a fast read and the conversational first-person tone of Mercy dragged you along with her, feeling as she did, seeing the world of her tiny insular town as she did. Somehow DeBlassie married the uncomplicated dialect of a mestizo woman who was not given educational growth opportunities with the feel of fairy tale language; at no point do the words feel like something Mercy wouldn't use but yet it still felt bigger than a simple tale in the way the best fairy tales do.
More than that, DeBlassie took the threads of La Llorona - a story well known to anyone along the US Mexican border and even to anyone who collects good ghost stories - and weaves them through the internal rot of the small town. Part of you will think La Llorona caused the abuse in the town, the smothering of the women and the degenercy of the men, but then you could be (might be, probably are) wrong and La Llorona just feeds on and encourages what is already there. The generational trauma that Mercy experiences and, tangentially, what she sees her best friend and other women suffer breaks the heart. To watch her fight it while not fully recognizing it as such is heartbreaking and uplifting all at once. For her, it is La Llorona and the curse. For us, we see the real world mirror of it.
This story grows full of hope and pulls you from despair towards the light with every discovery Mercy makes and you find yourself crossing all of your fingers for her even as you wait for the other shoe to drop... Because we all know how the past keeps its claws in you and how one moment of safety could let something through. As Mercy says in the most poignant of ways, "I realized that once you got used to living a certain way, you stopped trusting the good things that happened, even if you made it so."
We can't always save each other. We can't always undo another's cycle or heal their trauma. Sometimes we can only save ourselves and the bit of land we call home... and sometimes that is enough to give everyone a bit more hope.
More than that, DeBlassie took the threads of La Llorona - a story well known to anyone along the US Mexican border and even to anyone who collects good ghost stories - and weaves them through the internal rot of the small town. Part of you will think La Llorona caused the abuse in the town, the smothering of the women and the degenercy of the men, but then you could be (might be, probably are) wrong and La Llorona just feeds on and encourages what is already there. The generational trauma that Mercy experiences and, tangentially, what she sees her best friend and other women suffer breaks the heart. To watch her fight it while not fully recognizing it as such is heartbreaking and uplifting all at once. For her, it is La Llorona and the curse. For us, we see the real world mirror of it.
This story grows full of hope and pulls you from despair towards the light with every discovery Mercy makes and you find yourself crossing all of your fingers for her even as you wait for the other shoe to drop... Because we all know how the past keeps its claws in you and how one moment of safety could let something through. As Mercy says in the most poignant of ways, "I realized that once you got used to living a certain way, you stopped trusting the good things that happened, even if you made it so."
We can't always save each other. We can't always undo another's cycle or heal their trauma. Sometimes we can only save ourselves and the bit of land we call home... and sometimes that is enough to give everyone a bit more hope.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Domestic abuse, Animal death, Death of parent, and Violence