Unlike Vincenzo Latronico’s Perfection, a novel that features an all-knowing narrator of the lives of his characters, Dahlia de la Cerda’s Reservoir Bitches is a collection of 13 short stories with first person narrators, even when the character who narrates her story has died already. The first story begins with the sentence, “I sat on the toilet, peed on the pregnancy test, and waited the longest minute of my life. Positive. I had a panic attack and then felt almost happy; I rubbed my belly tenderly” (p. 1). The rest of the ten pages of this story are about the way of getting rid of this unwanted pregnancy. The final sentence reads, “I sat on the floor and stuck my hand in the toilet. There it was: a little sac the size of my pinkie with rosy bean floating inside it. I sighed with relief and smiled, then tossed it back in and flushed” (p. 10).

            Of the other twelve short stories, four are interconnected perspectives of young women in the drug cartel milieu. This small series starts with “Yuliana,” the daughter of a drug cartel chief and his heiress. Who becomes friends at school with Regina, the daughter of a congressman. Through Yuliana, Regina gets to know the son of another section of the drug trade. At the beginning, he treats her very well. Then, he becomes abusive. One day, mad with unfounded jealousy, he kills both one of his bodyguards and her, while she is on the phone crying for help from Yuliana. She arrives too late. Since then, she wanted to have him killed. Her father and her own boyfriend would not act, because the killer is the protégé of a leader of that section of the drug trade. So, killing him would lead to a major violent conflict. Yet, a chance arrives when Yuliana gets a new female bodyguard, “La China.” She orders her to kill Regina’s murderer. When it was done, “All hell broke loose you can imagine. Roadblocks with trucks on fire and more than a hundred dead in a month. We came out pristine” (p. 35), because they had made it look like another group was responsible. “La China” also gets to tell her story as does “Regina.” She tells us that the last thing she heard was Yuliana saying “Wait right there, babe. I’m on my way. … Then everything was smoke and lead and blood” (p. 108).

            The story “The smile” is about a gang rape of a female factory worker, her torture, and her killing. She says, “It didn’t take me long to figure out I was in a freaking cave in the middle of the desert. At least I was alive. I had cheated death, I thought. What I didn’t realize was – I am death” (p. 128). In her quest for retribution, she gets help from El Charro Negro, a figure from Mexican folklore. At one point, she walks into a public restroom: “I looked in the mirror. I couldn’t see my reflection but I knew it was me. The same me who’d walked out of the maquiladora that morning. The exact same person. I was dead but the desert hadn’t devoured me: it had spat me out, puked me up. I smiled” (p. 133).

            In another story, “Sequins,” a transvestite is killed by a group of man. She says, “I woke up in a daze, not knowing what had happened. I glanced left and right and then shrieked at the sight of my body dumped on a pile of garbage. I walked up to it slowly and confirmed my suspicions: I was dead. Those fucking mayates had killed me” (p. 143). The closing story, “La Huesera,” deepens the theme of male violence against women in Mexico. It takes the form of a long moving letter that the female friend of a killed women writes to her, expressing her grief, anguish, self-hatred, but also her fond memories. This story includes several pages about the violence that women in Mexico are subjected to by men. She writes, “I was shocked. Did you know that ten women are murdered every day in Mexico? That’s more than one every three hours. Ironic, right? To be telling you this, but it really knocked me on my ass. What were we doing while other women were being raped, beaten to death, and dismembered? I felt freaking awful. I felt like the worst person in the world, because if I had known how dangerous it is to be a woman in this fucked-up country, there’s no way in hell I would have let you leave that party alone. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me” (p. 174).

MHN

Nonthaburi, Thailand

30 March 2025