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.
An entrancing tale of three lesbian vampires spanning five centuries ... The vampires’ intertwined stories explore the centuries between them, ultimately reaching an unexpected yet satisfying conclusion ... Schwab’s fantasies are always a big draw, and this enticing tale of lesbian vampires that crosses centuries will be irresistible to her many readers.
