Difficult woman, sick woman, dead woman - The Haunting of Alejandra by V. Castro (Review)

A/N: This review contains mild spoilers for The Haunting of Alejandra by V.Castro. This is your spoiler warning. Also, can we please take a moment to appreciate this cover?

I believe that the most terrifying nightmare for heterosexual women is struggling from postpartum depression while being married to a man who acts like a gigantic toddler instead of being supportive. The number of books that have this as the main theme is proof enough for my theory. The husband in this book was so annoying and unsupportive that the main character’s ancestors started appearing in her dreams to show support.

The Haunting of Alejandra is a horror novel based on the Mexican myth of La Llorona- a spiteful ghost mourning the death of her children. The main character Alejandra is struggling with postpartum depression and the burden of running a house and taking care of three little children when she starts getting haunted by a paranormal entity which she assumes to be the demon La Llorona. Her husband Matthew is content being a ‘fun uncle’ who just plays with the kids instead of being an involved parent and pretty much never helps around the house.

With no support system to speak of and having moved to a new city and a bigger house just for the sake of her husband’s job, Alejandra struggles to bridge the gap between her identity as a mother and as an individual with her own needs. She constantly questions her will to live and slowly starts descending into a downward spiral when she realizes the difficult situation she has positioned herself in after agreeing to be a housewife and giving birth to three children. She feels like she can no longer quit her marriage for the sake of her children despite how toxic her husband is and she no longer knows herself enough to start over from scratch. After a small accident, she decides to take matters into her own hands and seek medical help through Dr. Ortiz who is also a curandera (a healer who specializes in folk remedies).

That’s when the ‘haunting’ gets worse. The demon whispers ‘difficult woman, sick woman, dead woman’ and makes Alejandra constantly question herself and her right to prioritize herself over her family. It starts haunting her children and her birth mother. And eventually her therapist too. She also mentions having this recurring dream where women who look very familiar to her are standing in a cenote, in concentric circles. These mysterious women are later revealed to be her ancestors who were also plagued by the demon.

The story is interspersed with accounts from her ancestors and their encounters with the demon entity and eventually it also goes into the entity’s experience with women and how it feeds on their depression and loneliness. It includes the story of her ancestor Atzi, dating as far back as 1522 when Mexico was being colonized by Spain to 1961 when Alejandra’s birth mother Cathy gave birth to her and gave her up for adoption. The generational curse is passed down from women to their daughters through the process of childbirth and drives them to the brink of insanity over time. V. Castro does have some fascinating ideas about intergenerational trauma and how the effects of oppression are passed down.

Reading about the Mexican revolution and cross-dressing revolutionary women was the highlight of this book for me. There’s so much history that’s just not commonly talked about and I really appreciated it. I also appreciated the discussion of how women have to prove how good of a homemaker and mother they are while also being expected to be ambitious but not too much lest they emasculate their husbands. (Plus did I mention that the main character is like so bi?)

What really confused me was that in the demon’s POV, it tells you that it’s not La Llorona and goes into an unexpected explanation regarding multiverses. So technically this is an alien horror story? If you’re here for the discourse about motherhood, identity and intergenerational trauma then this is rather insignificant but I was here for the ghost so that threw me off a bit. (P.S: An alien who collects umbilical cords like Pokémon cards.)

V. Castro is a talented writer and I loved ‘Goddess of Filth’ but this book did not hit the spot for me. It’s a good book if you’re a beginner looking for some horror that just makes you uncomfortable while also discovering a different culture (very intersectional feminist). I would probably not recommend this to seasoned readers of the paranormal/ spooky genre.

Here are some quotes that showcase the vibe of the story:

Each birth had left an open wound where each of those pieces of flesh had been hacked off from her.

Alejandra held no illusions of having any value in the world.

He frequently made it obvious he was displeased with her when her needs didn’t align with what he wanted in that moment.

All the while obsessive thoughts of death would scratch at her mind with the ferocity of a rabid animal at her front door. Death was easier than living.

Difficult woman. Sick woman. Dead woman.

How could wrongdoing be corrected by more wrongdoing? How could you learn about love from someone who gave you nothing but pain?

The last thing she needed was to be mom-shamed with gossip about her mental struggles. You’re supposed to smile through motherhood

‘He didn’t want someone with ambition. I didn’t have much when we met. He fucking told me that exact thing over dinner and I ignored it.’

Thoughts of leaving him began while she was pregnant with their third child. But that would devastate her children. More consideration had to be done. If a break were to happen, it would have to be clean. She didn’t have a dime to her name or credit history to speak of. All the power that matters in the world was not within her immediate reach. She gave it away so easily.
(Alejandra’s helplessness is so sad.)


The unholy trinity of pain made her do it: The guilt of not wanting children. The belief that this was her only source of worth or power. And her envy of men who could do whatever they pleased with very few consequences. It made her want to destroy them all.

(If I  had three children and one man-child, I would consider drowning myself too.)


Alejandra’s husband being a waste of space:

“But that’s your thing. I don’t know what you have planned because you buy all the groceries. You always do the cooking.”
(She asks him to make one meal. One.)

He gave her a look of puzzled irritation before saying, “I’m sorry you feel that way. Why do you feel like that? Look at everything you have.”
(Just because she expresses her anxiety about losing her identity.)

“Just be happy,” he sniped. “Look how lucky you are to be home all the time, in a nice home with no worries. You want for nothing.”
(Yeah, that helps.) 

“This is what we agreed on when we first met. You agreed. You can’t go back on what we agreed on. Life doesn’t work like that. You are a wife and mother first. That was your choice.”
(Bro, people change their minds all the damn time.)

“I’m still single because I don’t date women on the same career level as me.”
(RED FLAG.)

It wasn’t about the money; it was about the fact that he had no say in what she spent money on. He wanted final approval on everything. He could never appreciate things she did for her own joy.
(RED FLAG!!!)

A/N: I was just recovering from a massive reading slump and this book did not work for me but I wanted to share this because I hope it helps you discover more horror that is inclusive. I highly recommend Goddess of Filth if you’re interested in folklore based horror with unhinged characters.

Thank you for reading the ninth installment in my ‘Women of Words’ series where I read feminist literature by a new feminist author each month. I hope the next book I’m reading doesn’t have as many infuriating man-children. (Is that even a word?)

I’d love to hear your thoughts on what I could read and review next on this series.

To read the previous installment, here’s my take on The Vegetarian by Han Kang.