In the devastating aftermath of ecological collapse, where the boundaries between survival and monstrosity blur into oblivion, Agustina Bazterrica’s “The Unworthy” emerges as a haunting testament to humanity’s capacity for both cruelty and connection. Following her internationally acclaimed “Tender Is the Flesh,” Bazterrica once again demonstrates her mastery of literary horror, crafting a narrative that burrows under the skin and lingers there long after the final page.
The Sacred Sisterhood: Paradise or Prison?
At the heart of this nightmarish tale lies the House of the Sacred Sisterhood, a cloistered religious order claiming sanctuary from a world ravaged by climate catastrophe. Through the clandestine writings of our unnamed narrator—scribbled in stolen ink, charcoal, and her own blood—we witness the brutal hierarchy that governs this supposed haven:
- The Enlightened: mysterious women who reside behind a carved black door, revered as divine intermediaries
- The Chosen: women divided into three orders (Minor Saints, Diaphanous Spirits, and Full Auras), each ritually mutilated to “enhance” their connection to the divine
- The Unworthy: women like our narrator who serve the order while hoping to ascend its ranks
- The Servants: contaminated women bearing the physical marks of the collapsed world outside
Presiding over this perverse sanctuary are two ominous figures: the Superior Sister, a militaristic woman wielding whips and inflicting torturous “exemplary punishments,” and the unseen “He,” a godlike figure whose presence looms behind a chancel screen during ceremonies.
What Bazterrica accomplishes most brilliantly is showing how religious extremism can provide a framework for horrific abuse. The mantra “Without faith, there is no refuge” echoes throughout the text, a sinister reminder of how ideology can justify atrocity. The House operates on a foundation of mutual surveillance, punishment, and sacrifice—all brilliantly rendered through the narrator’s increasingly unreliable perspective.
A Fragmented Narrator Emerging from Darkness
Our protagonist’s fragmented consciousness forms the centerpiece of the novel. Unable to recall much of her life before arriving at the House, her memories gradually surface throughout the narrative—reveals of unspeakable trauma, survival among “tarantula kids” in the collapsed civilization, and the loss of her enchanting cat companion Circe.
The arrival of Lucía, a new “unworthy” who possesses an otherworldly presence, catalyzes both the narrator’s emotional awakening and her questioning of the House’s foundations. Their forbidden relationship, consummated amid fireflies that should no longer exist, provides rare moments of beauty amid the horror—a testament to Bazterrica’s ability to find poetry in the apocalypse.
What’s particularly compelling is how the narrator’s growing awareness of the House’s hypocrisies parallels her recovery of personal memory. As she reconnects with her past suffering, she simultaneously develops the courage to challenge present cruelties.
Visceral Prose that Wounds and Wonders
Bazterrica’s prose is a masterclass in controlled intensity. Her writing shifts between clinical detachment when describing ritual mutilations to lyrical beauty when capturing rare moments of connection:
“We were in each other’s arms in the hollow when we heard noises and were startled… From the dark hollow we saw two figures, one of them stumbling. An unworthy. Her white nightgown was visible in the dark; the servants don’t wear nightgowns. The other figure was colossal, so colossal it could only have been the Superior Sister.”
The journal format creates an intimate immediacy, while Bazterrica’s unflinching eye forces readers to witness horrors without looking away. Particularly effective is her use of rhythm and repetition:
“I boil them. I burn them. I kill them.”
These staccato confessions create a hypnotic effect that pulls readers deeper into the narrator’s disturbed psyche. The fragmented storytelling—with abrupt endings to sentences, redacted pages, and unreliable memories—mirrors the protagonist’s broken consciousness.
Feminist Horror with Apocalyptic Undertones
While “The Unworthy” by Agustina Bazterrica operates effectively as pure horror, its strength lies in its exploration of pressing contemporary concerns:
- Environmental collapse: The world outside the House has become largely uninhabitable, with acid rain, vanishing animal species, and devastating storms—a grim reflection of our current climate crisis.
- Religious fundamentalism: The House’s rituals and hierarchies demonstrate how easily faith can be weaponized against believers, particularly women.
- Female bodily autonomy: The systematic mutilation of women’s bodies (eyes sewn shut, tongues removed, eardrums perforated) serves as a stark metaphor for patriarchal control.
- Memory and trauma: The narrator’s fragmented recollections explore how trauma can simultaneously demand to be remembered and forgotten.
Bazterrica never reduces these themes to simple allegory. Instead, they form an intricate tapestry of horror that feels both timeless and urgently contemporary.
Comparative Context: Bazterrica’s Evolution and Literary Peers
“The Unworthy” represents a significant evolution from Agustina Bazterrica’s previous novel, “Tender Is the Flesh.” While both explore dystopian scenarios through unflinching body horror, “The Unworthy” delves deeper into psychological terror and religious extremism. The earlier novel’s focus on cannibalism and commodification has given way to an exploration of faith, memory, and resistance.
Readers familiar with works like Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale,” Samanta Schweblin’s “Fever Dream,” or Carmen Maria Machado’s “Her Body and Other Parties” will find familiar territory in Bazterrica’s exploration of bodily autonomy and institutional control. Yet her distinctive voice—simultaneously poetic and brutally direct—carves out unique literary territory.
Strengths and Weaknesses: A Critical Assessment
What Shines
- Immersive world-building: The House of the Sacred Sisterhood feels horrifyingly real, with rituals, hierarchies, and punishments all meticulously developed.
- Psychological complexity: The narrator’s fragmented consciousness creates a compelling journey from complicity to resistance.
- Lyrical horror: Bazterrica finds unexpected beauty in devastation, creating a reading experience that’s as mesmerizing as it is disturbing.
- Environmental prescience: The novel’s depiction of ecological collapse feels increasingly plausible, lending urgency to its dystopian vision.
Where It Falters
- Pacing irregularities: The journal format occasionally leads to narrative stagnation, particularly in the middle sections where rituals become repetitive.
- Character development: While the narrator and Lucía are richly developed, secondary characters sometimes feel two-dimensional, serving primarily as representatives of the House’s cruelty.
- Unresolved threads: Several narrative elements (particularly regarding the outside world’s actual state) remain tantalizingly unresolved, which may frustrate readers seeking clearer closure.
- Intensity without relief: The relentless darkness occasionally approaches emotional exhaustion, with few moments of respite from the horror.
Final Verdict: A Mesmerizing Descent into Darkness
“The Unworthy” establishes Agustina Bazterrica as one of contemporary fiction’s most distinctive and unflinching voices. While not for the faint-hearted, this novel rewards readers willing to confront its darkness with insights into power, belief, and resistance that resonate far beyond its dystopian setting.
The book’s greatest achievement lies in its ability to make readers question how easily we might participate in systematic cruelty when it arrives wrapped in the language of protection and salvation. In our world of increasing extremism and environmental precarity, “The Unworthy” serves as both warning and witness.
For those who survived “Tender Is the Flesh” and hunger for more literary horror that challenges as much as it disturbs, “The Unworthy” represents essential reading—a blood-inked testament to what we might become when the world ends not with a bang, but with a whimper.
For Readers Who Enjoyed “The Unworthy”
If Bazterrica’s harrowing vision captured your imagination, consider these similarly unsettling literary works:
- “Fever Dream” by Samanta Schweblin: Another Latin American masterpiece of ecological horror with a fragmented, hallucinatory narrative style.
- “Daughters of the North” by Sarah Hall: Explores a female-centered resistance in post-apocalyptic Britain with similar attention to bodily autonomy.
- “The Memory Police” by Yoko Ogawa: Offers a meditative, surreal exploration of disappearance and memory that pairs well with Bazterrica’s themes.
- “Wilder Girls” by Rory Power: Features all-female isolation and bodily transformation in a contaminated environment.
- “Nineteen Claws and a Black Bird”: Bazterrica’s collection of short stories provides another entry point into her unsettling literary universe.
Bazterrica has crafted a novel that, like the narrator’s hidden pages, demands to be both concealed and revealed, forgotten and remembered. In a literary landscape increasingly preoccupied with apocalypse, “The Unworthy” by Agustina Bazterrica stands apart—not just for its vision of what ends, but for its unflinching examination of what remains when everything else is lost.
