3.5*

I was excited to hear Mariana Enríquez had a new short story collection coming soon, and jumped at the chance to read it. I'd read a story or two between other books in my schedule, absorbing them and eagerly anticipating the next one, and I always enjoyed it. I feel almost a little disappointed saying that I thought this was a very, very good collection rather than a truly great one—perhaps I'm a victim of my own expectations, or perhaps the author has just set such a high standard for herself.

There's a lot that I loved about A Sunny Place For Shady People; it was expected, but the writing was incredibly strong all the way through. The prose has a starkness at points, a beautifully literary style at others, that flows so well and creates such vivid imagery. Social issues are handled primarily through either the lens of ghosts, spectres and monsters, or through body horror—mostly natural. Whether aging, disease, obesity, menopause or surgery, Enríquez feels like she's in equal parts disgusted of and fascinated by these elements of the human condition. The Suffering Woman is a story that illustrates this; a woman receives an answer machine message from a wrong number, offering help to a friend with cancer. Unable to contact the caller or get the thought of the patient from her head, the protagonist starts to obsess over them, with chilling results.

A lot of my personal favourites seemed to come towards the latter half of the book, and I did begin to love it more as I continued reading. Different Colours Made Of Tears, about a woman buying vintage dresses from a peculiar older man for the store in which she works, The Refrigerator Cemetery, a twist on the idea of children getting trapped in discarded fridges, and A Local Artist, about a couple visiting an isolated village, all worked well for me. Creepy atmospheres and chilling images were plentiful throughout these and I'm sure I'll return to these, and others, in future.

There were a few stories I enjoyed less, unfortunately, although I'm sure others may find them to be amongst their favourites. Enríquez often ends stories ambiguously or seemingly as they're reaching their climax. I don't mind this with short stories, but perhaps the collection would have been better suited to a few more having definitive or stronger endings. These aspects just hold me back from being able to say I truly loved this book, although it's still a great read, and one I'd recommend to any fans of this brand of short, grisly fiction.