by Corrine Watson
August 6, 2024
Mystery Lights by Lena Valencia; Tin House Books; 256 pages; $17.95.
Lena Valencia’s much-anticipated debut short story collection, Mystery Lights, draws readers into the uncanny darkness the women in these stories face as they navigate threats that are both real and existential. Set against the rocky, desert landscape of the American Southwest, Valencia highlights the sense of isolation and the danger of the unknown that lurks in this vast expanse of land, from animal life, harsh terrain, to forest fires. Through ten haunting short stories, Valencia captures not only the vulnerability these women face, but the ways they are able to claim their own power to save themselves.
Valencia explores a variety of common women’s issues, ranging from sexual harassment, assault, or unwanted pregnancy. By choosing to cover these well-traveled grounds, Valencia acknowledges that these situations have become cliché and have perhaps lost the spark to insight feminine rage or even sympathy. In “Bright Lights, Big Deal,” a second-person narrator blogs about her best friend’s experience of workplace sexual exploitation as an attempt to make her big break as a writer in the city. The article receives a lackluster response from the public and ostracizes the narrator from her best friend. After telling an older woman about how she ran out of a corporate interview when the boss gave her the creeps, the woman berates her instead of offering comfort, saying, , “If I ran away every time a boss flirted, I’d still be flipping burgers at Wendy’s in Wichita” (104). This dismissive interaction draws attention to the ways a post- #MeToo world opened up a dialogue for women to share their experience and disclose abuse, but shows how workplace sexual harassment hasn’t ended as these women are still told to expect this behavior from men and turn a blind eye. By ending the story on the narrator’s lowest point, Valencia captures the narrator’s disillusionment, and rather than offering redemption, it seems Valencia needs this character to learn that she isn’t special. Her struggle isn’t unique and she won’t get very far playing the role of a victim, which other characters in the collection seem to understand by instinct.
Through her vibrant desert settings, Valencia presents a portrait of nature that is vast, harsh and unforgiving, and this often acts as a foil for the brutality of civil society. A wellness retreat experience takes a dark, culty turn when the narrator explores just how far she will go to reclaim her spiritual power. A viral marketing campaign is sabotaged by followers of a social media influencer, or girls go missing without a trace. And as these stories focus on women and girls on the precipice of danger, Valencia does well to create a sense of dread that captures the reader's attention as the intensity builds.
Opening with “Dogs,” we see a clear picture of this duality Valencia is working to create between the predictable violence of nature in contrast to the unsettling threat of other people. While on a hike, Ruth is stalked by a pack of snarling wild dogs and accepts a ride from a strange man. As the driver rambles about nature, and a woman’s place, Ruth berates herself for putting herself in this situation and imagines what the headlines will be when her body is found. “She was afraid to take a sip of water, afraid to do anything this man might comment on. In moments like this, being visible was a liability (11,12). The scenario captures the ways women are trained to take up less space to avoid the threat of violence, or likely blamed for that violence if they, like Ruth, were alone in a remote area, and willingly got into the car.
Blending the tone of isolation and danger within nature and among a world with dangerous men, Valencia incorporates speculative elements in several stories, giving them a more eerie, haunting tone. Missing girls are portrayed as a ghost-like presence, capturing a sense of unresolved grief, while cryptids and extraterrestrials offer an escape from reality. Through the college campus lore in “You Can Never Be Too Sure,” Valencia illustrates the ways supernatural violence can be easier to process than reality. In this mythology, a spirit called the Trapper comes down from the snowy Colorado mountains to swipe female undergrads. The girls would “come back a few nights later, dazed, with no memory of what happened to her. Most would drop out soon after” (19).
Valencia is not subtle with the suggestion that this lore is a metaphor for sexual assault, but what works well is the way she blends the reality with the supernatural when the narrator faces her own “Trapper.” She writes, “They say there are two sides to every story. But sometimes, there are two stories. There’s the lore, and there’s the truth. There’s the Trapper, draped in furs, smelling like death. And there’s Rob, sweatshirt hood draped over his head, smelling like incense and weed” (33). Throughout the story, the narrator’s roommate is the one to tell her the stories about the trapper and give her protection against evil spirits, but when it is suggested that the roommate was also assaulted by this boy, she can’t bring herself to be direct and tell her friend why she should stay clear of him. Even though our narrator claims her power through panic and dissociation and choses self-defense against the “Trapper,” the story suggests that the lore is doing a disservice to victims of sexual assault. Valencia is saying that both victims and their peers face the same potential for violence when they’re focused on the threat of a fabricated monster in the woods over the one living down the hall.
Throughout Mystery Lights, Valencia captures a striking range of dangers both speculative and real. What stands out in the collection is the way these women refuse to be cowed by the troubles they face, even without a heroic savior. Instead, they actively choose to save themselves, driven either by cognizant choice or an unwavering instinct to survive. In spite of this empowering resilience, there is a quiet desire for a kinder world and an unsettling acknowledgement that women will continue to face violence, which makes these topics worth exploring.
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Reclaiming Power: Exploring Women’s Resilience in Lena Valencia's Mystery Lights
FICTION REVIEW
Image by Ana Karenina from Pexels
Corrine Watson is a freelance writer and editor based in Charlotte, NC. Her work has appeared in Wretched Creations and the Southern Review of Books. Follow her on Twitter @CorrineWatson6.
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