I have to admit it: The Bewitching, Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s latest dark academia/folk horror novel, completely shattered my expectations.
And honestly, I mean that in the best possible way.
I’m usually not a huge fan of multi-timeline narratives, but in this case I absolutely loved the shifting perspectives and the distinct personalities of the novel’s three protagonists.
However, if you’re picking up The Bewitching because you loved Mexican Gothic or The Daughter of Doctor Moreau, there’s something important you should know first: this is not the kind of witch story modern pop culture has trained us to expect.
Forget broomsticks, seductive glances, and pointy hats.
The witches in The Bewitching are scary.
That’s exactly why I’d especially recommend this novel to fans of films like Hereditary and Suspiria, or the haunting comic series Wytches by Scott Snyder.
The Bewitching: Plot
Minerva, a graduate student working on her doctoral thesis, becomes obsessed with the life of Beatrice Tremblay, a mysterious horror novelist, and the disturbing truth hidden behind her most famous book, The Vanishing.
As Minerva digs deeper into her research, she begins sensing the same malevolent force that once haunted Betty and her roommate decades earlier — and that may still linger around the university campus.
That sinister presence also echoes an encounter Minerva’s great-grandmother Nana Alba had with a witch in early twentieth-century Mexico.
Now, Minerva fears that same darkness may be coming for her.
Academic research can already be exhausting.
Add witchcraft to the equation, and it becomes downright deadly.
The Bewitching Review
Witchy Vibes, Academic Tension, and Cursed Manuscripts
The Bewitching is one of those rare horror novels that captivates you less through shocking twists or jump scares and more through the oppressive strength of its atmosphere.
Yes, the pacing is undeniably slow.
But Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s writing is so immersive and evocative that it completely pulls you into the novel’s eerie, dreamlike world. There’s something irresistibly decadent about the aesthetic of this story — a deeply gothic quality that permeates every page, even though Minerva, Alba, and Betty’s story has nothing to do with ruined abbeys or crumbling castles overrun by ivy.
The three timelines come alive with almost uncanny clarity.
Like an old sepia photograph: the people at the center smile faintly through the blur of time, while an inexplicable shadow slowly spreads inward from the edges, distorting the entire image beyond recognition.
Minerva’s chapters were by far my favorite.
Honestly, Silvia Moreno-Garcia feels born to write dark academia. Her knowledge of gothic and horror fiction is unmistakable, but what impressed me most was Minerva herself: intelligent, isolated, obsessive, and painfully believable.
Months from now, when I think back on this novel, I already know what image will come to mind: a charcoal sketch of Minerva standing outside the library with her oversized headphones on, preparing to cross a crowded Boston street, completely unaware of the supernatural stalker smiling at her from the opposite sidewalk.
A Literary, Historical, and Psychological Folk Horror Story
For a large portion of its runtime, The Bewitching is actually a very restrained novel.
It relies heavily on mounting paranoia and psychological unease, gradually transferring that anxiety onto the reader with remarkable precision.
It remains subtle… until suddenly it isn’t anymore.
And once its ravenous villains finally reveal their true nature, some scenes become openly disturbing.
(Yes, Alba and Uncle Arturo: I am definitely talking about you!)
At that point, the novel descends fully into madness.
The psychological aspect of the story is also heightened by its obsession with rituals, talismans, witch marks, and protective objects: elements that play a central role not only in folklore and mythology, but also, in more extreme forms, in certain manifestations of mental illness.
As someone who has lived with OCD for years, I found Minerva and Virginia’s desperate reliance on protective rituals unexpectedly affecting. Their fear felt painfully real to me in ways I hadn’t anticipated before starting the book.
I don’t know how many readers remember N. by Stephen King, but many aspects of The Bewitching reminded me of that devastating story… or even of Barbara’s emotional struggle in I Kill Giants.
And maybe that’s the novel’s greatest strength.
Great horror doesn’t truly affect us because its monsters are original, or because its twists are unpredictable.
It works because it finds the cracks in both the reader and the characters — and quietly slips inside them.
Like a soft voice whispering to you from the dark:
“No, I don’t believe in evil witches.
But I still think you should be afraid of them.”
What to Read After The Bewitching
If you loved The Bewitching, here are a few books that deliver similar folk horror, psychological horror, or dark academia vibes:
- Incidents Around the House by Josh Malerman
- The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher
- Hex by Thomas Olde Heuvelt
- The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson
- Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin
- The Library at Hellebore by Cassandra Khaw
