Santo Domingo de la Calzada, 1532. London, 1827. Boston, 2019. Three young women, their bodies planted in the same soil, their stories tangling like roots. One grows high, and one grows deep, and one grows wild. And all of them grow teeth.
Schwab has impressively woven a compelling character drama and feminist critique into a horror thriller. But with so many moving parts and timelines, it’s inevitable that something has to suffer. I felt impatient every time we jaunted into Alice’s modern time, which is less enticing than the lesbian affairs that unfold in the other sections. The story lines eventually thread together, though not until well into the novel’s 500 pages. I found it well worth the wait, though, because of the sumptuous descriptions of place and time, and the slow-burn melodrama between each of the women ... Bury Our Bones gets at this idiosyncratic feeling with a tale told sharply but sweetly enough it goes down as easy as that happy-hour cocktail that, surprisingly, knocks you flat.
In Schwab’s hands, even the well-trod territory of immortal bloodsuckers turns fresh and new ... I found myself almost giddily delighted with Schwab’s yes-the-ton-but-also-vampires take—all three women are essential to the story, and following each of their intertwined stories from the beginning provides depth and importance that isn’t achievable without that level of detail ... The collective human imagination has always been intrigued by the competing aspects of vampirism—immortality and vulnerability—but has any other author this talented explored how both aging and power sit differently in women’s bodies than men’s? That’s the unique spin that Schwab brings to age-old vampire lore, and what a rich theme it proves ... A complex, rich, rewarding novel ... A riveting read. Fans who responded to Addie based on its inventiveness, complexity, era-spanning scope, historical detail, and gorgeous writing will certainly enjoy the same qualities in this book. And Bury Our Bones is also poised to appeal to an entirely different audience from Addie. It’s darker, less reassuring, more idiosyncratic. Fortunately or unfortunately, that tone feels ideally suited to the times we live in today. Some of the best feminist fiction doesn’t stop at promoting women’s rights, but allows us to revel, cathartically, in women’s wrongs. In Schwab’s capable hands, those wrongs feel oh so right.
Despite my initial hesitation, I was hooked after the first page. This book is absolutely exquisite in its execution; I had to force myself to put it down so I could do things like eat and sleep. I would recommend reading this when you have a long stretch of time to do so. Because having to stop is the most heartbreaking thing you’ll do ... Schwab sews such strong threads for each of her characters, showing how deeply interconnected their stories are, and how they shape one another. These three women feel so unbelievably real to me ... V.E. Schwab has created such clear, present characters who jump off the page fully formed. If you’re like me and tend to shy away from fantasy because it feels like too much, do yourself a favor and pick this book up anyway. You won’t be disappointed.
