Gods of Jade and Shadow
By Silvia Moreno-Garcia
~Book Review~
ONE OF THE MOST INTRIGUING UNDERWORLDS is Xibalba, the Place of Fear (or Place of Astonishment), that holds a memorable place in Maya mythology. Ruled by the death gods Hun-Kamé and his brother Vucub-Kamé (older translations can be Hun-Camé and Vucub-Kamé), Xibalba promises the most tribulations and tricks a soul can find oneself up against, what with a treacherous Black Road, frightful Houses full of jaguars, bats, and flying blades, and a ballcourt where the losing team pays with their lives. It is evocative of the struggles of life amongst teeming jungles of biodiversity, but it has a softer side, too, as Moreno-Garcia explores in Gods of Jade and Shadow.
Set in the Jazz Age, the story begins with a Cinderella flair of sorts with Casiopea Tun stuck serving the whims of her grandfather’s demanding family in a small town in southern Mexico. While dreaming of a life far from this one, Casiopea finds a mysterious box in her grandfather’s house and unwittingly releases Hun-Kamé, deposed ruler of Xibalba. Turns out that Casiopea’s grandfather threw in with Hun-Kamé’s ambitious brother Vucub-Kamé to overthrow the death god and scatter his body parts so he could never return. Undaunted to find himself in the age of flappers and cabaret, Hun-Kamé wastes no time enlisting Casiopea to help him recover his missing body parts so he may retake his place on the Jade Palace throne. However, Vucub-Kamé is alerted to his brother’s release and enlists Casiopea’s loathsome cousin Martin to stop them.
Hands down, the most exhilarating part of the story is at the end when Casiopea competes against Martin to travel Xibalba’s Black Road and reach the World Tree first. Also, any part that features Xibalba. The writing style is lyrical but tells instead of shows, making it difficult to connect with any of the characters. The characters felt like they had no heart, and it was hard to tell Hun-Kamé’s voice/character apart from his brother (as opposed to the wonderful drawn rivalry of say, Mufasa and Scar in The Lion King). Indeed, there wasn’t much justification for why Vucub-Kamé should be overthrown—had the underworld eroded under his care? Was he oppressing his demon subjects or being more horrific to souls than usual? It’s not explored which brother would be the better ruler aside from birthright. Why did Vucub-Kamé want to get rid of Hun-Kamé aside from his own ambition? That’s the level we’re missing to really understand the heart of their relationship.
The plot doesn’t help, as it follows a simplistic formula of 1) collect this body part from forgettable demon minion A, and 2) repeat for demons B – C. There wasn’t much of a struggle or tension built up in any of these face-offs. The Jazz Age’s influence was told to us rather than flowing as a natural part of the story, and Martin is about as formidable as an old sock.
However, Hun-Kamé and Casiopea’s slow burn romance is sweet, and Casiopea refreshingly has plenty of spunk and agency. She doesn’t take sh*t and isn’t afraid to speak up in the overtly patriarchal world. The story wraps up in a satisfying conclusion, but the biggest drawback is the woodenness of the characters and the lack of heart, as we constantly feel like we’re being kept at arm’s length from any raw emotion. Granted, this is tough when writing “distant” god-like characters. Overall, Moreno-Garcia has spun a classic tale that expertly balances both the fear and beauty of Xibalba.
Recommended for fans of: N.K. Jemisin, Rick Riordan, and Aliette de Bodard
