55 pages • 1-hour read
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Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of death, graphic violence, and mental illness.
Moreno-Garcia’s narrative presents storytelling as the mechanism by which spells of protection, healing, and strength are passed down from generation to generation. Although Alba’s supernatural power is, in part, innate, it’s suppressed by her lack of knowledge and her family's prejudice against brujeria. Her connection to the Los Pinos witches, who share their stories with her, encourages her to finally engage with and access her power—a power she ultimately uses to kill Arturo and save her family farm. In turn, Alba passes that knowledge down to successive generations of women in her family. The stories that her mother dismisses as being part of the silly lore of uneducated rural folk ultimately save her life, and Alba chooses to pass them on to her daughter because she recognizes their power. Knowledge that is written off because it comes from the working classes and is largely transmitted by women is, in the world of this novel, both important and powerful.
The novel’s three interwoven timelines emphasize the importance of storytelling as a means of preserving a legacy of female empowerment. Like Alba before her, Ginny’s supernatural abilities are only partially inherited. When she begins to suspect that she has been bewitched, she delves deeply into everything she can find on bewitchings and the paranormal. She uses the knowledge that she gains from the stories from various traditions to protect herself from Carolyn. Ginny is ultimately unsuccessful in her attempts, but the information that she uncovers, particularly from her readings on witchcraft, becomes part of the body of knowledge that helps Minerva understand how to fight the evil around her. She defeats Carolyn using what she learns about the history of witchcraft, guided by Tremblay’s retelling of Ginny’s story and the legacy her own Nana Alba passed down to her.
Ginny’s story survives because of Tremblay’s unpublished account of Ginny’s disappearance. Tremblay chooses to preserve her friend’s story in part because she loves her and does not want her name to die with her, but also because she has become convinced that there are supernatural forces at work at Stoneridge, and she wants evidence of them to survive and be passed down. Minerva believes strongly in the power of the “collective unconscious,” and observes with interest the way that folk legends from different parts of the world and different eras contain similar elements (115). Because she sees connections between her own family’s stories of witchcraft and what she reads about in Tremblay’s papers, she can use both Tremblay’s and Alba’s histories to stop Carolyn. She uses witch marks to protect her room and then uses Alba’s recipe for witch poison to kill Carolyn, just as Alba did to kill Arturo.
Throughout The Bewitching, classism and sexism underscore the tension between folk wisdom and modern beliefs. The author explores the way that axes of class and gender shape various characters’ worldviews through her layered depictions of Alba’s life and experiences, Ginny and Tremblay’s timeline, and Minerva’s final reckoning with Carolyn. Moreno-Garcia is known for novels that pay homage to Mexico’s history and culture. In crafting a novel that validates the importance of Indigenous, Mexican folk beliefs, she crafts a broader argument that the histories, rituals, and practices of working-class communities merit respect and that the criticism of those whose own power is reified by undermining folk wisdom should be interrogated.
Alba’s timeline illustrates a distinct dichotomy between folk and modern beliefs in Mexico at the turn of the century. Characters like Alba, Valentín, Alba’s father, and even the servants on Alba’s family farm represent rural, folk traditions. They turn to the use of herbal remedies over modern doctors, whose practices are imbued with institutional prejudice based on gender and class. They believe in the supernatural and engage in spellcraft to attempt to reshape their destinies. Alba’s mother and Arturo, who are more modern in their worldview and identify more as urbanites than rural dwellers (despite Luisa’s many years in the country, she never quite adjusts to rural life, and Alba often wonders why she chose to marry a country boy), put little stock in country beliefs and do not respect folk magic. Arturo is later revealed as a warlock himself, but he does not openly embrace witchcraft. This is only in part to hide his use of the supernatural, but also because he has shaped his identity around the rejection of folk beliefs.
In the novel’s opening chapters, Alba’s “portents” (an innate awareness of the presence of evil) immediately establishes the novel’s lens as aligned with the practitioners of folk magic. Morena-Garcia’s first introduction of Alba highlights her use of a spell to summon her uncle to the farm. Arturo’s arrival shortly after she performs the spell provides an implicit validation of folk beliefs and practices within the world of the story. Later, in Minerva’s timeline, when she herself senses the presence of evil, she notes, “Nana Alba used to call these feelings portents and said they should be heeded” (35), further reinforcing this narrative lens.
Similarly, the witches at Los Pinos are stigmatized by many for their use of witchcraft, and yet they are widely consulted for their knowledge. Even people who openly deride the witches visit them in secret. Moreno-Garcia depicts these witches as women of little means who eke out a living selling handicrafts, talismans, and spells. It is their knowledge that allows Alba to vanquish Arturo and, generations later, helps Alba’s great-granddaughter, Minerva, to kill her own witch, reinforcing the novel’s argument for the value of folk wisdom, which calls into question the supremacy of the Western enlightenment values espoused by characters with social, economic, and political privilege.
The prejudice of society’s privileged class against folk wisdom continues into the novel’s more modern timelines, repeating the patterns established in Alba’s story. Ginny is stigmatized by her classmates—particularly the socially elite Carolyn—for her interest in the occult. Even Tremblay initially doubts Ginny when she claims she has been bewitched. Carolyn is the character in Minerva's context who dismisses the paranormal as fantasy, even though she’s ultimately revealed as a witch. Like Arturo, she espouses the virtues of modernity, science, and technology, but derives all of her power from the supernatural, a belief system which she openly mocks Ginny for embracing.
In all three timelines, even well-meaning characters dismiss Alba, Ginny, and Minerva’s experiences with the supernatural as hysteria, stress, and anxiety, invoking the long history of writing off women’s concerns as an implicit weakness of their gender. Minera’s close friend, Hideo assumes that Minerva’s difficulties stem from stress and anxiety and that even the eeriest of her experiences has a logical explanation. He urges her to seek professional psychiatric help and to try to worry less about her thesis. Ginny’s fiancé, Edgar, enlists Tremblay’s help to convince Ginny to be admitted to an asylum under the care of a psychiatrist. When Alba tries to warn her mother about the teyolloquani, her mother blames Alba’s indolence and overactive imagination. Despite this implicit sexism, all three women hold fast to what they know to be true: what is happening to them is supernatural.
Ultimately, the cumulative nature of their knowledge allows them to defeat evil. Alba channels centuries of folk magic into her potion that kills Arturno. Ginny and Tremblay leave a legacy of support for Minerva to find. By integrating the work of generations of women, Minerva finds justice for herself and for Ginny, vanquishing Carolyn.
This novel examines the idea of female power as a legacy, inherited from generation to generation by those willing to seek it outside the confines of systemic oppression. Through her depiction of brujeria and the Los Pinos witches, Moreno-Garcia positions witchcraft as a way of reclaiming power and agency in patriarchal societies. By interweaving three separate timelines, Moreno-Garcia demonstrates the ways that women, even those working alone, can look to the histories of the women who came before them to help them fight against the malign forces in their lives.
The Los Pinos witches provide a model for Alba of women asserting their own power in a world built to disempower them. As female members of a patriarchal society, the Los Pinos witches are born into a system structured to deny them access to self-determination. Because they are women, their economic opportunities are limited, and they do not share their male counterparts’ career options. Because they are healers and witches, they have access to power that can’t be controlled or regulated by the ruling class and thus, poses a threat. Although society shuns them, it maintains a secret respect for them. Even individuals who openly mock the witches seek them out in private for charms and spells. They reclaim economic power by selling their wares and spells, and they live successfully outside of the boundaries of normative, patriarchal society in their own, small community where they don’t need to limit themselves to the choices of marriage or the convent that society prescribes for women. Their supernatural knowledge, paired with Alba’s cunning, daring, and willingness to perform the spell, represents one of the most powerful forces in the novel and allows Alba to vanquish Arturo.
Similarly, both Ginny and Tremblay represent women who have rejected the socially prescribed notions of what a woman should be and what power she should access. Tremblay’s account presents Ginny as an iconoclast—distinctly different from other women around her—a quality that attracted Tremblay, who also existed outside the prescribed definition of a proper young lady. Tremblay equates this iconoclasm with freedom and vivacity, noting that Ginny “was alive. I’ve never met someone as alive as her” (74). Ginny’s individualism in a society that valued conformity empowered her to show little regard for the opinions of girls from powerful and influential families like Carolyn and Mary Ann.
The narrative suggests that Ginny’s disinterest in conforming to social norms is, in part, a result of her supernatural gifts, which give her a broader perspective on the world. She doesn’t fear her power, but wields it, honing her witchcraft to fend off Carolyn, despite the ways the people in her life try to label her as “hysterical” or having a mental illness. Although she is ultimately overpowered by Carolyn, her witch mark-protected room later serves as a sanctuary for Minerva—its protection still strong even a generation later.
For her part, Tremblay’s power lies in her work as a writer. As a queer woman who lacks Carolyn’s generational wealth, Tremblay works her way through college to ensure that she will be able to secure a job and support herself after her studies end without the need to marry a man. Although she can’t save Ginny, she rigorously chronicles Ginny’s story, providing a record that she lived and was loved. This record ultimately empowers Minerva to access her own power and agency to vanquish Carolyn. Just as Tremblay was drawn to Ginny, Minerva is drawn to the work of Tremblay because she recognizes the power in it, which she links to her own familial legacy. Describing Tremblay’s work, Minera notes, “I love the opening pages, it’s Tremblay, through and through. But it reminds me of some stories my great-grandmother used to tell” (86). In this way, the narrative positions its female protagonists as a legacy of women united in their attempts to reclaim power and agency outside the bounds of their patriarchal norms.
At the start of her arc, Minerva, like Alba before her, feels she’s been left to battle the supernatural alone as no one around her believes the truth of her experiences. As she attempts to understand the teyolloquani, Alba feels that she has “no sympathy, no answers from her mother” (198). Minerva, thousands of miles from her family, feels equally alone in her quest to solve the mystery of her own bewitching. And yet, the narrative asserts that neither woman is truly alone. Alba has the wisdom of the Los Pinos witches to guide her, and Minerva has Alba’s wisdom passed down to her by each successive generation of her family. Minerva works to integrate Tremblay’s manuscripts and her great-grandmother’s stories, rooting her empowerment in the understanding that knowledge is communal and allowing that knowledge to shore up her own willpower and determination.



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