La sed

In the new world for the umpteenth time recently discovered of women, Thirst goes deep to put a distance: from least to greatest, species against gender in the taxonomy of kingdoms. A vampire arrives on the shores of nineteenth-century Buenos Aires to see for the second time in her life how the villages become a cosmopolitan city. It is the twilight of blood bacchanalia, of a Europe where you can kill and eat piecemeal. You have to adapt, mix with humans, be discreet. At the other end of the novel, a contemporary woman walks with her son through the Recoleta cemetery and experiences her modest emancipation a little uneasily. The encounter between the deadly boredom of the one and the untimely Gothic of the other unleashes the beautiful novel that lets the full weight of the tumultuous death of the Buenos Aires past fall on the muted family passions of the present. Darwin says that for naturalists, "Species, when crossed, are especially endowed with sterility, in order to avoid confusion." Marina Yuszczuk shows that in literature, fortunately, it is exactly the other way around. The experiments with the monstrous of Mary Shelley and with the domestic cunning of Jane Austen, more than Dracula, are at the origin of the species novel that refuses to be only a genre novel.