After Maud’s bone-chilling murders, my entire being craved for more… horror? I wanted something that would make my heart beat race so fast it’d fall off my chest, besides coffee and my filthy inhaler! Not gonna lie, I jumped from one book to another until I settled on V. Castro‘s Goddess of Filth. The five female protagonists and the word “seance” sold me. I totally had no clue what kind of horror awaited me on my Kindle.
One of the most beautiful experiences one could ever have in life is undying friendship. Yeah, I mean, it’s fun to go to the movies alone because you can decide for yourself what to watch and how many films to see that same day, and go to your restaurant of choice without considering anybody else—but have you been given flowers on your birthday and book launch by your girls, and at one point stayed out until the mall closed in the name of strawberry cake for your birthday? Have you ever been picked up by your ride-or-die from your place at 10 PM so she could take you to the beach and grill you steaks for brunch? Because damn, there is nothing I wouldn’t give to keep these few beautiful souls in my life. I love each one of them!
Lourdes is that “friend.” You know, the best friend of the main character—not necessarily the second lead, but she is that friend who would take all the blame. The friend who gets madder than you because your asshole boyfriend cheated on you. The friend who would probably dig the backyard so you could hide that body. The person who wouldn’t bail you out of jail because you are both chillin’ behind the bars and she tells you, “Damn, girl that was fun!” If you have a girl friend like her, never let her go.
So, like I said, I needed a dose of horror in book pages. Kinda like R.L. Stine‘s Fear Street and Goosebumps, but with boobs, you know? This book fell short on the supernatural (but this is just me, okay?) or maybe I am used to the Southeast Asian stuff that stubbornly clings and I have to watch a couple of Disney movies to pacify myself. What I didn’t expect though, is the different kind of horror this book gave me. Its commentaries about poverty, racism, and men are just so on point that I highlighted all the beautiful words describing the society’s filth. I hated Fernanda’s mom in the first half of the book. She’s rude and vile, and at one point I felt like there’s a special place in hell waiting for her—until she said sorry. Sincerely. And that was enough for me.
Father Moreno, on the other hand… he’s lucky if hell would even have him. I am experiencing moral dissonance in real life right now, and Father Moreno is the last thing I needed. Yes, I understand how messy humans can get, and Father Moreno too, despite being a person we’re taught to see as holy, is only human and therefore has his own battles, weaknesses, and contradictions. But it also brings me into thinking: where does compassion end and accountability begin? Did we just enter the era of complacency and selective morality? And yes, I am also a sinner, and maybe the Goddess of Filth would be bloated if she eats all my sins. But does that mean we look the other way when we hear filthy stories behind the stained glass? Anyway, at the end of the day, I know our faith isn’t in the hierarchy, but in God Himself.
I think it is also fair warning that this book has smut… in the cleanest but graphic kind of way. I remember how I write my bed scenes, and one male friend told me, “You didn’t use vulgar words, but the way Raia and Ian had sex was vivid in my mind when I read it.” I guess it’s okay if I use his comment to describe the erotic scenes in this book, right?
Goddess of Filth is less than 100 pages—another quick read you can devour on evenings when sleep is elusive, and by the time it arrives, you’d be too annoyed to doze off because the book is getting so good that you find yourself fixing a cup of coffee at 2 AM.
See you in the next chapter! ♥
