A review by synoptic_view
The Gilda Stories by Jewelle Gomez

3.0

I found it challenging to interpret many aspects of this book. One recurring example is the treatment of consent. Sexual compulsion is a recurring theme in many vampire stories (at least since Carmilla and Dracula), and blood sucking has become such a common metaphor for sex, so I was keen to see Gomez's take on the subject. What I found in the book eludes easy interpretation. Many of the relationships between vampires in the book appear quite consensual. But interactions between vampires and non-vampires are distinctly non-consensual. The vampires takes blood from their victims without the victims' knowledge. In the process the vampire reads the thoughts and dreams of the individuals, and the vampire can influence the thoughts of their victims, Inception-style. This often appears to be presented as a mutually beneficial arrangement. The vampire gets some blood, and the mortal gets a new, better outlook on life. But these encounters can also turn quite dark. During the Boston portion of the book, Bird goes out to feed and finds a family in their home. Here is how the feeding plays out


Bird sped into the shadows until she came upon a small house that held more than one person. She slipped inside and found the bedroom of a teenaged boy, sleeping deeply as they do. She held him with the hypnotic quality of her voice while she took the blood from his arm. His desires were simple: good grades on a science test and a date for an approaching dance. Bird felt a rush of tenderness as she slipped inside his secrets, gently prodding open his sense of mathematic and scientific principles so he'd grasp ideas a bit more easily. And she left the idea that it might not matter if he had a companion or not. The evening would be a success if he simply enjoyed everyone as a friend. He did not stir when she sealed the wound and listened to his slowed pulse. As she moved away from him he turned on his side and mumbled out loud, returning to his own dreams.


This is a wildly complicated and paradoxical paragraph. Both at the beginning and end, it makes clear that the boy has no idea what is going on, much less any say in the event. The writing clearly presents Bird as having good intentions (she "felt a rush of tenderness"), yet she acts on that tenderness by implanting an idea in the boy's head that is contrary to his own desire (to have a date). I might agree with the outcome Bird wants here--to combat some sense of masculine entitlement for a date--but it doesn't remove the fact that she is implanting the thought without any agency on the boy's part. The final sentence of the paragraph is also self-contradictory. The boy's dreams have been tampered with--they are no longer his own--so how can he return to them. And hanging over all of this is the fact that Bird, a 100+ year old vampire, specifically chose to feed on a teenage boy out of all of the people living in a house with multiple residents.

Am I, as a reader, meant to see Bird, Gilda, and some of the other, more clearly non-evil vampires as good? Are these passages, when contrasted with the slightly more consensual vampire creation passages, meant to be problematic to draw out distinctions? From the text alone, I have a hard time judging, much as I had a hard time judging many of the elements of this complex and compelling book.