The Night Diver

The best kind of horror is one that is equal parts horrifying and beautiful, showcasing the heights and depths of the human experience. Mariana Enriquez in ‘Our Share of Night’ has created such an experience, with colorful and vivacious descriptions of Argentina, but also shocking horrors that come from the military dictatorships and the shadowy cult that operates in this country. The way Enriquez weaves together these aspects is nothing short of masterful, as this is what truly makes the horror hit the gut in a way that deeply leaves its mark.

Before even the horror begins, Enriquez drew me in with her descriptions of the culture, characters, and history of the country. In a way, I felt like I was watching a travel documentary, immersing myself in the locale before sinking my teeth into the horrors ahead. Her prose was at the height of detail, really pulling together different senses to paint beautiful or horrifying pictures in the mind, but it never really felt particularly long to read. There was a rhythm in the book that kept it a page-turner for me, letting me take in the vistas of her writing before being thrust into the dark plot once more.

Another part of the story that really gripped me was the creation of these beautifully realized characters and their interactions. Characters like Juan and his son Gaspar show an equally beautiful and dark parent-child relationship that hits home for many people who share a complicated relationship with their own parents. These aren’t shining protagonists. They are messy, damaged, trying to work in a world that is filled with horrors that sit in the world of magic and mortals. Even with the inclusion of dark magic and cults, the book feels quite grounded and realistic, which made the horrors all the more possible in my own mind.

The horror content in the book is absolutely A-grade. There are scenes that will disgust you, chill you to the bone, and it all still fits into the narrative without sounding like a gratuitous festival of violence. This book was also one of the few ones to get me truly scared with a haunted-house setting, which is not something I find scary a lot of times in horror media. The inclusion of cult and ritual magic, feels truly dark, making you feel like you truly sat through a kind of profane event, the events swirling in your mind, long after you’ve closed the cover. If anything, it made the calmer parts of the story something I kind of looked forward to, before I would go into the dark once more.

I don’t have a lot of bad things to say about the book, but there are some things that did leave me wanting. The coming-of-age arc for Gaspar ends on a fitting and logical note, but there are certain characters that I still wanted to see more of. I feel like at least having a sort of epilogue or short catch-up on the aftermath of these other characters would have felt more complete, considering that this book most likely wouldn’t get a sequel (as far as I can tell at least). Overall, I would say that this book is very much a masterwork in horror, and it could be a treat for anyone who might want a horror story steeped in culture and history.

My final rating would be 4.5/5 stars