63 pages • 2-hour read
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Content Warning: This section of the guide includes discussion of suicidal ideation and self-harm, child death, substance use, addiction, graphic violence, sexual violence, rape, child sexual abuse, mental illness, emotional abuse, and death.
The story’s narrator, Josefina, is a young girl who says that her mother, grandmother, and sister were terrified of every possible harm the world could deliver, but Josefina never shared their fear until they visited Corrientes when she was six. What Josefina remembers most about the trip was visiting a witch whom people called The Woman. There was a large well in The Woman’s yard that Josefina peered into excitedly despite her mother and grandmother’s panic, and she spent the afternoon examining The Woman’s altars and offerings while her mother, sister, and grandmother sat on stools as The Woman “talked, or prayed” (39). When Josefina got bored, she fell asleep in an armchair and woke after dark. She wanted to look in the well again before they left, but she was suddenly consumed by fear.
Even after they returned to Buenos Aires, Josefina couldn’t sleep. Every noise she heard seemed to herald doom, and even her own heartbeat filled her with fear. She was sure she could see the devil’s face in the plaster on the ceiling and worried about a ghost known as the Mule Spirit when she heard a horse or donkey nearby. Her father accused her grandmother of teaching her old superstitions, but Josefina felt the fear was part of her, “the same way she knew she couldn’t put her hand to a hot stove without burning herself” (40).
Now, years later, Josefina is still visiting various psychologists, trying “to explain and rationalize her fears one by one” (41). Her mother and grandmother are no longer “anxious” or “phobic,” and her sister has recovered from her night terrors, so her mother is sure that even Josefina’s fears will clear up with time. In the meantime, she is unable to live a normal life. She has to drop out of school, and she vomits with fear if her mother comes home late, sure that she has died in a tragic accident. Her sister, Mariela, meanwhile, enjoys a normal adolescence, coming home late with friends and running up the family’s phone bill.
Josefina tries a new pill that allows her to sleep without nightmares and even venture out to the newsstand. She can go for coffee with Mariela and even starts thinking that college might be possible. Mariela is delighted with their newfound connection and is eager for Josefina to recover fully. She reminds Josefina about how The Woman in Corrientes cured their mother and grandmother of their fear. She suggests that she could do the same for Josefina and promises to make the trip with her and keep her safe. When Josefina’s new pills begin to lose their effectiveness, she is “angry” and “exhausted.” She is truly fed up with her condition, but her fear of dying keeps her from contemplating suicide. Although she is afraid, she decides to make the trip to see The Woman; she decides she will take as many drugs as she needs to sleep the whole way.
Josefina leaves for the trip heavily drugged, but she remembers “the flash of malice and panic in her mother’s eyes” when she learned of this plan and her refusal to see Josefina and Mariela off in the morning (48). Her mother insisted that the trip was “pointless,” even as Mariela shouted at her. In Corrientes, the sisters stay with their aunt, who also refuses to help. Undeterred, Mariela takes Josefina to The Woman’s house. The Woman ushers them in like she has been waiting for them. She remembers Josefina immediately and explains that her mother, grandmother, and sister had come to her “with evil thoughts, gooseflesh, the damage of many years” (51). However, the “old evil” didn’t touch Josefina, so The Woman “passed it” to her (51). She thought San La Muerte or Saint Death would be gentle with Josefina and that her family would take care of her. They were desperate to “save themselves,” even her sister, who “was green, but already mean” (52). The evil “rotted” into Josefina’s picture in the well, so there is no way to undo the damage.
This news gives Josefina a surge of strength. She rushes into the yard and to the well, determined to throw herself in, but she stops at the edge, “so, so very afraid to jump” (52).
When Sofía arrives in Barcelona, she notices that the city is dirtier than she remembered, and a smell “like rancid meat forgotten in the fridge” permeates the air (55). The smell is so strong that she eyes the other tourists she passes, expecting them to have their noses scrunched up in disgust. She once found the city enticing and romantic, but it no longer holds the same appeal. On her way to her friend Julieta’s house, Sofía sees a girl walking ahead of her on the deserted street. The girl turns around, looks straight at Sofía, undoes her jeans, and expels “an explosive, painful diarrhea” on the sidewalk before collapsing (57). Sofía tries to help the girl, and the police come to take her away.
Julieta’s apartment is actually a converted office, with a shared bathroom down the hall. It is “large by Barcelona standards” (58) and has a beautiful balcony. Sofía lets herself in and tells Julieta about the incident with the girl, which her friend dismisses as “normal for Barcelona” (58). Julieta complains that Barcelona is “[f]ull of crazies on the loose” (58), and she says that different ones appear in different seasons. She tells Sofía that she sometimes gets a “strange feeling” from the “crazy people,” almost as if “they’re not real” but rather “incarnations of the city’s madness” to prevent the other residents from “kill[ing] each other or [dying] of stress” (60). Julieta’s boyfriend, Daniel, chimes in from the balcony, claiming that Barcelona has turned into “a police city.”
Daniel and Julieta are both Argentinian, and as they talk, Sofía notices how they avoid using any words common to the Spanish of Spain. When she first visited them years ago, she teased them about their use of Spanish slang, but “[n]ow they [seem] to have completely erased all local words,” embracing their Argentine dialect with “a mixture of nostalgia and genuine unease” (60). Daniel shares a newspaper article about the efforts to clean up the Plaza de los Ángels, a popular gathering place for young people to enjoy a beer outside. He complains about the city’s “scandalous” rent prices, blaming it on tourists who “ruin everything.” He and Julieta want to move away, but they can’t leave their jobs.
After dinner, they go for an evening walk to a trendy bar named after a woman called Madame Yasmine. Daniel’s friend, Manuel, explains that Yasmine was born in Barcelona’s Chinatown when it “was a reeking hellhole” (63), and she became a madam at a brothel frequented by artists and anarchists. She fell in love with one of these men and had a child. However, Yasmine’s lover was killed, and her child was decapitated by a passing cart on Barcelona’s famous Las Ramblas avenue. Following this tragedy, Yasmin began drinking and smoking opium in her home. She went out weekly to do her shopping and always carried a headless doll whose neck was supposedly made of her dead son’s skin. Her house was demolished when the city built the new Rambla del Raval. Daniel calls the pedestrian walkway “depressing,” and Manuel claims that the avenue is known as the Rambla Triste or “sad boulevard” because the decapitated boy is still wandering around along with the rest of “Barcelona’s many ghost children” (64). Julieta insists they change the subject, and Sofía grows quiet. She thinks of the dead boy and the doll with the neck made of his skin and is suddenly disgusted by the bar, “with its date salads and designer cocktails” (64).
The next night, Sofía and Julieta go out alone, and Julieta confesses that she has been through “a rough time” (65). Sofía can smell the strange stench invading her nostrils again, but she doesn’t mention it as Julieta begins talking. She tells Sofía that she and Daniel tried to get pregnant. However, Julieta started to get intensely paranoid, believing that the helicopters that were always flying over the city were looking for her, trying to conduct experiments on her, or take her baby. Daniel found her hiding under the bed one day and took her to a therapist who put her on a mood stabilizer. She stopped trying to get pregnant and realized that wanting a baby “was part of [her] madness” (67). She tells Sofía that Barcelona “isn’t a place for kids” (67) and reminds Sofía of Manuel’s comment about the “ghost children” who wander the streets. She has seen Sofía “wrinkling [her] nose” and tells her the invasive smell is “[t]he stench of the kids” (67).
Julieta explains that she and Daniel moved to Raval in 1997, when the neighborhood was in the clutches of a large pedophile ring. The neighborhood was full of “[k]ids who never went to school, who carried knives, who turned tricks” (67). One boy was so filthy that his smell continues to fill the city as he haunts the streets. When the pedophile ring was exposed, the city began paying residents to leave their apartments. However, the case was apparently “an ambush” that the city used to force residents out and clean up the neighborhood. Now, no one talks about the Raval case because they don’t want to talk about the children “who were not alive” (69). She tells Sofía about some of the ghost children she sees, and she knows from Sofía’s face that she has seen them too. Sofía claims she hasn’t seen anything, but she tells Julieta about the smell. Julieta tells her that the children don’t let people leave Barcelona; she and Daniel are stuck there. She insists that Sofía should cut her trip short and leave the following day, telling her that she and Daniel will “get out someday” (71).
The daughter of the hotel’s owner was always afraid. She couldn’t sense the ghost known as The Lady Upstairs, who always wanted to reassure the girl, but she was constantly overcome with a fear of “seeing something unknown reflected” in the building’s large mirrors (73). There were also rumors about ghosts that haunted the hotel, but the Lady Upstairs had been there for years and never found a shred of truth in these stories. Now, she is “tired,” spending more time alone in the hotel’s tall lookout tower and longing for the day when she can relinquish her post.
Elina decided to stay at a hotel on the beach, thinking the sea air would do her some good and help her stop thinking about Pablo, but now she has little desire to go. She made sure to send Pablo a message with the hotel’s address and phone number so he could contact her, even though he broke up with her a year ago and she hasn’t heard from him since. She will be at the hotel for her birthday, however, and she is sure, if he is “alive, if he had ever loved her,” he will call (76). For a year, Elina has been stuck in a “suspended life of waiting for him” (76), missing him terribly and wondering if he is dead or alive. It has become so difficult for her “to fake a certain amount of sanity with family and friends” that she has isolated herself (75), stopped going to therapy, and started relying more on the pills her doctor prescribed.
The Lady Upstairs likes Elina and wants to take a physical form to reveal herself to her. However, she has frightened women away before and wants to do things carefully. First, she wants to know why Elina hates the sea, so she watches that night as Elina dreams of being raped on a beach when she was 17.
Elina told no one about the assault, and she thinks that Pablo left her because she struggled with intimacy. She would sometimes be overcome by the memory of the rape, and “he’d gotten fed up” (78). She thinks this is reasonable, believing he doesn’t want her because she is “ruined forever.” Elina stays in her room for two hours, waiting for reception to tell her she has a call from Pablo and contemplating her future. It occurs to her that she may no longer have a job teaching at the university after she began crying during a lecture. She’d shut herself in the teachers’ lounge until someone found her and called an ambulance. She woke up in a clinic, where she spent group therapy sessions and arts-and-crafts activities contemplating suicide. She was discharged, but only managed to work two more weeks at the university before taking sick leave. Through it all, Pablo never called to ask about her.
Elina eats only a few bites of lunch before heading to the beach. She is frightened by the shrub-lined path where someone could hide, but she perseveres and arrives at the sea. It begins to rain, and when she is drenched, she takes out a razor and begins to cut herself. On her way back to her room, she asks the receptionist if she has any calls, then she draws herself a bath and cuts herself again.
The next morning, a new girl sits at Elina’s table. Elina hasn’t slept and doesn’t want to talk to anyone, but there is something about the girl that she likes. As she takes her first sip of coffee, she feels her heart pounding and thinks that it would be “lovely to die” so “suddenly and without planning” (81). She tried to kill herself with pills once, but overdosing was harder than she expected, and she woke up in the hospital. The girl tells her about the hotel’s lookout tower, which is generally off-limits to guests because it hasn’t been renovated. However, the girl insists that the tower is safe and that the door isn’t locked.
The Lady Upstairs is “sure that Elina [is] the one” (83). She appeared to her as the new girl at breakfast and now leads her up the lookout tower’s steep stairs. Once they arrive at the small room atop the tower, Elina smiles at the view. The Lady Upstairs thinks that she will bring Elina back to the tower the next day and lock her in. She will “wait for her to grow desperate from hunger” and “tell her how no one would come looking for her, because no one cared about her” (84). If necessary, she will reveal “her true form,” “her true smell,” and most “terrifying” of all, “her true touch” (84). Elina will fall down the stairs or throw herself out the window, and The Lady Upstairs will be “free,” and Elina will be left to haunt the hotel in her place.
“The Well” examines the theme of Isolation and the Loss of Human Connection. It is the first story in the collection that is narrated in the third person, and it centers on Josefina, a teenager who experiences debilitating fear and anxiety that leaves her almost completely isolated. Josefina’s mother, grandmother, and sister transfer their fears to Josefina through an act of witchcraft, literalizing the idea of intergenerational trauma. Josefina’s anxieties are portrayed as ancestral, as if terror has been transferred to her through the women in her family. The story also explores the motif of fear, showing how fear and isolation intensify one another: Fear makes isolation more extreme, and isolation, in turn, exacerbates fear.
Josefina is one of many young women in this collection who is consumed by an unidentifiable and seemingly irrational fear, reflecting the unspoken dangers that young women face and the silence surrounding collective past traumas. Other characters who experience similar, unarticulated fears include Julieta in “Rambla Triste” and the hotel owner’s daughter in “The Lookout.” In “The Well,” when Josefina starts to feel afraid, she feels like her anxiety isn’t learned but rather is woven into her inherent understanding of life, “the same way she knew she couldn’t put her hand to a hot stove without burning herself” (40). This emphasizes that female fear is an instinct honed by experiences in a dangerous world.
“Rambla Triste” embodies the theme of The Impossibility of Hiding the Past. It is the only story in The Dangers of Smoking in Bed that is not set in Argentina, but it still maintains the strong sense of place that permeates the collection. Set in the El Raval neighborhood of Barcelona, a historically poor and densely populated area known for its taverns and brothels that underwent significant urban renewal projects in the 1990s and early 2000s, the story uses ghost children as symbols of the community’s erased histories. Driven by gentrification and an influx of tourists, El Raval has become populated by exclusive bars serving “date salads and designer cocktails” (64). The story’s characters claim that rent prices are “scandalous,” while police officers patrol the street in an effort to keep things safe and clean for the tourists who “ruin everything.” These measures are an attempt to hide the neighborhood’s past of violence and poverty; additionally, the city used coercion and questionable policies to expel poorer residents in order to enact urban renewal projects. However, this dark past refuses to remain hidden. The neighborhood is haunted by the ghosts of the children who once lived and died there; many of them were victims of the social violence inflicted on the neighborhood to bring about its transformation. These ghost children fill the streets with a horrible stench and trap transplants to El Raval like Julieta and Daniel. The neighborhood’s residents are, therefore, trapped in the unresolved trauma of El Raval, forced to haunt the same neighborhood like the ghost children. This story is similar to “The Cart” because it, too, examines the perils of classism, reactions to poverty, and the consequences of mistreating the poor.
“The Lookout” is a modern take on a Victorian-style ghost story. While the story explores the collection’s theme of isolation, particularly the intense loneliness brought on by psychological distress, this story is also unique in its use of more traditional fairytale and ghost story tropes. The sea, the haunted lookout tower, and the “hysterical” woman locked inside are all gothic staples that give the story an old-fashioned quality. Elina plays the archetypal role of the delicate, emotionally fragile woman who retreats to the seaside, hoping the sea air might help soothe her nerves. However, these traditional elements are juxtaposed against Enriquez’s trademark modern voice and refusal to shy away from the details of Elina’s trauma. In the aftermath of her break-up, for example, Elina is accustomed to “waiting hours for an email with her eyes fixed on the screen until she had a headache and bloodshot eyes and was crying onto the keyboard” (76).
This story also highlights shared female trauma, like “The Well.” Josefina has an internalized sense of worthlessness that stems from being raped as a teenager; as a result, she assumes that her ex, Pablo, was right to leave her because she is “ruined forever” by her trauma and is unable to please him sexually, believing this is required of women. Elina’s intense isolation makes her vulnerable to The Lady Upstairs, but as the story reaches the climax, it becomes unclear if she truly becomes the ghost’s victim. The Lady Upstairs plans to lock Elina in the tower, starving and frightening her until she dies by suicide, but Elina is already contemplating suicide, thinking that she is “capable” of throwing herself down the stairs multiple times if she fails to die right away. The final sentences combine Elina’s intention to jump with the ghost’s intention to finally be “free” of the hotel, and it becomes difficult to tell who is planning what. The boundary between the living and the dead collapses as both of them come to represent the silencing of female pain and trauma.



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