We talk with the Queen of Horror herself Mariana Enríquez

Allen & Unwin
Oct 27
4 min read

Mariana Enríquez takes us on a journey through graveyards steeped in history.

Somebody is Walking on Your Grave by Mariana Enríquez

In Somebody is Walking on Your Grave, Mariana Enríquez blends journalistic rigour and her fascination with the macabre as we encounter famous graveyards steeped in history. From the haunting statues of Staglieno in Genoa to the eerie silence of Rottnest Island's hidden Aboriginal cemetery, Enriquez's narrative shifts effortlessly between travelogue, essay, and memoir. In her unique voice, cemeteries transform into living, breathing places of reflection, obsession and revelation.

We were so honoured to speak to Mariana about her fascinating homage to cemeteries, and get the inside scoop on any ghostly encounters she may have had! Read on for our interview.

A&U: Hello Mariana! Thank you so much for speaking with us. Somebody is Walking on Your Grave is very different from your previous books. What inspired you to want to write about cemeteries?

ME: I always loved cemeteries: when I was younger it was more like a punk transgressive goth attitude, and a fascination with the art and the atmosphere. As I grew older, I started to love the stories that grow in cemeteries: urban legends, holy dead, peregrinations, celebrity graves, the relationship between the living and the dead, the locations of certain burial grounds. But the decisive moment was in 2012 when a friend of mine recovered the remains of her mother: she had disappeared during the Argentinian dictatorship of 1976-1983, a regime that killed and disappeared tens of thousand of people. Her delayed funeral and burial were ceremonies of comfort and closure and deeply political and that’s how I thought: this fascination could be a book, because now I understand the personal political meaning a grave has for me, a person who grew up during a regime that decided the punishment was not to have a body, a burial place, a final rest.

A&U: Cemeteries often feel like any easy cliche for horror settings, what did your exploration find about what cemeteries signify culturally? How does this differ around the world?

ME: They are not spooky to me – of course we all fear death, but the dead are just people. The dead don’t become evil entities when they die. It’s a deep cultural fear of death that transforms the dead into ghosts and zombies. Of course, I’m scared too because I’m not above anything, but cemeteries to me are more like history museums, really, and riddles, and mysteries. Every cemetery is different to the next, not just around the world, you just have to look closely.

A&U: You describe cemeteries not only as places of mourning but as spaces that reflect the societies that build them (their class structures, politics, aesthetics and even fears). Which cemeteries did you find most revealing in this sense and what did they show you about the culture that created them?

ME: Many. Recoleta cemetery in Buenos Aires, for example, is situated in the richest part of town, and the dead are from the richest families of the country: there are no more burials unless you have your own pantheon there, it’s super exclusive. It almost completely reflects its surroundings, the society that lives there, the upper class that rules the country. Living and dead are together.

A&U: In Latin America, cemeteries carry layers of colonial history, Catholic ritual and sometimes violent political pasts. How did these histories shape your encounters?

ME: Every history is different and it’s not just the colonial past: it’s also the class differences that are striking, the cemeteries of the communities. Latin America is a continent with many countries, you can’t really say what are the most striking traces. It’s my culture: I approach this knowing it’s my history and all this things have shaped me too, so let’s say it’s quite natural.

A&U: You also visited the Aboriginal Prisoner Cemetery on Rottnest Island, which carries it's own colonial history. How did this compare to others you visited?

ME: Well, it’s different of course but at the same time is quite similar to another island in Rio de la Plata, the wide river between Uruguay and Argentina. The island of Martin Garcia was used as a prison and place of arrival of immigrants, and for a time hosted Argentinian Aboriginal men mostly, imprisoned – it was a concentration camp. The difference is that in Martin Garcia you know where the bodies where buried, there’s an indication. But in Rottnest Island there is not a museum, or a homage, or anything, it’s kind of a dark secret.

A&U: Which cemetery stayed with you the most and why?

ME: I guess Staglieno in Genova, Italy, because it was my first serious crush.

A&U: The title you chose is charged with superstition and usually signifies feeling shivers for no reason. Did you have any moments that felt supernatural or eerie?

ME: Not really, I’m remarkably immune to everything supernatural - guess that’s why I’m obsessed with it. I welcome it and I’m open, it just does not happen to me.