Layla Martínez’s Woodworm, translated from Spanish to English by Sophie Hughes and Anna McDermott, is an exploration of family, generational trauma, and a house that refuses to relinquish its hold. Both eerie and poetic, this novel drags readers into a world where the lines between the living and the dead blur, and justice takes on spectral forms.
The house at the heart of the story is no ordinary dwelling — it breathes, harbours secrets, and plays host to ghosts, angels, and saints whose presence feels simultaneously divine and suffocating. Built by a manipulative hustler to control his wife, it now ensnares his descendants: a daughter and granddaughter who cannot escape its grasp, no matter how much they may want to. Their entrapment, whether by curse or fierce loyalty, creates a claustrophobic atmosphere that mirrors the constraints of family ties and societal judgment.
The translation by Hughes and McDermott captures the haunting beauty of Martínez’s prose, balancing its sharp edges with moments of grace. The descriptions of the house, with its insect-laden roof and spectral shadows, feel alive and visceral, anchoring readers in its decaying yet defiant structure. The translators’ careful attention to tone ensures that the story retains its raw emotional power while resonating with English-speaking audiences.
At its core, Woodworm is a class-conscious horror novel that drags generations of monsters — human and otherwise — into the light. With its layered narrative and unforgettable imagery, the novel offers a chilling meditation on the inescapable nature of the past.
Overall, Woodworm offers a chilling exploration of generational trauma, class, and haunting secrets in a way that is sure to hold firm in the minds of its readers.
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