It oughta be a movie: The Gilda Stories, by Jewelle Gomez
This 1991 book was the first ever to feature a black lesbian vampire, and a sympathetic one at that. It takes place over eight time-periods from 1850s Louisiana to the former New Mexico (probably?) in 2050. This structure – not to mention the diverse and interesting cast of characters – would make it well-suited to a TV series or movie franchise setup where each season or film could focus on one or two of the time periods. My only real complaint with the book is that I wanted MORE of each story, so I think there is potential to expand on the character dynamics and history in that way.
When we first meet our main character, she is a runaway teenage slave known only as the Girl. Within the first five pages she has stabbed a white man who planned to rape her before turning her in and has been found hiding in a basement by a woman who can speak to her telepathically. This white lady, named Gilda, runs a local brothel in what appears to be a pretty ethical manner1 and is very close with a Sioux woman named Bird. The Girl, working in the kitchen, learns that some of the residents of the house have some questions about those two:
“’You sayin’ they bad or somethin’?’ The challenge wavered in the Girl’s throat… ‘No…I’m just saying I don’t know who they are. All the time I been here and I still don’t know who Miss Gilda is…I don’t know who her people is. White folks is dyin’ to tell each other that. Not her. Now Bird, I got more an idea what she’s up to. She watch over Miss Gilda like…like…’ Bernice’s voice trailed off as she struggled for words that spoke to this child who was now almost a woman.”
However, the ability to talk back and forth with their minds creates a bond of trust between her and the mysterious pair, who are of course vampires. Gilda prime (as I’ll call her) has been growing tired of her immortal life, especially as she senses another war coming. She hopes that the Girl, if willing, could join their family and be company for Bird.
When Gilda prime passes to her second death, the Girl takes on the name of Gilda…presumably in her memory, though I would have liked a greater explanation of that. She clearly wasn’t actually nameless originally – all her sisters had names – so the fact that we never learn her human/slave name may mean that she views it as a “dead name” (in an unusually literal sense) that she shed when she transitioned to her new life and power. Bird teaches The Girl the ways of responsible vampiring: To honor life, to always give something back for the blood you take2, and, if you have to kill, to always remember the faces.
1. The sex workers seem happy, and many are able to retire fairly young and go off to do other things. Having a vampire madam with mind-manipulating powers is probably very good for security as well!
2. Usually provided by their psychic/telepathic powers: a lift in mood or motivation, for example, or perhaps a wish fulfilled by manipulating someone else (as in the case of a coachman who wanted to go home and see his family; Gilda nudges his employer to finish up his business quickly).
The second installment takes place beside San Francisco Bay in 1890 and introduces several characters I REALLY wanted to spend more time with! Gilda is feeling a bit at a loss, because Bird has left to reconnect with her people and to try to quell the unfair resentment she can’t help feeling toward Gilda because of the way Gilda prime framed the girl as her replacement. But before she did, Bird directed Gilda toward the bar/hotel run by the plump, jovial Sorel and his long-time companion Anthony, who are just the best gay vampire grandsires ever3. They are delighted to welcome Gilda to the family, but are a bit concerned when she and the glamorous red-headed Eleanor immediately seem attracted to one another. Eleanor, you see, is one of Sorel’s “children” who is not so well-adjusted, and there is a guy named Samuel who blames her for his wife’s second-death because she turned them both and then love-triangle drama ensued.
“Sorel took a deep breath… ‘I love her as my own, but you will see she has only her own interests in her heart…The women who brought you into this world were honest, honorable, devoted people. The gift of life was in them before they joined this family. Eleanor is beautiful, charming, clever, but she does not have that gift.’”
But it is difficult for Gilda to believe that Eleanor, who is so sweet and generous toward her, could be one of those vampires who actually likes to cause pain.
3. I mean, that’s the vibe, at least. Only three of the many vampires we meet in this book come across as most-likely-straight.
The third-through-fifth installments find Gilda in rural 1920s Missouri, 1950s Boston, and 1970s New York, trying to balance her desire to maintain connection with the human world (and artistic expression in particular) with her desire for an immortal family who understands her. Some of the humans she loves she has to leave behind, because what they want and need can only be found in their human lives, but she does eventually turn a lonely black theater director named Julian – after making it clear that she’s looking for a brother, not a boyfriend! The Boston storyline also brings back the sex-work-positive vibes. She and Bird end up having to fight a pimp threatening one of Gilda’s friends in that community who turns out to be a vampire himself. A pot of spaghetti sauce features in this fight, which you’d think would be silly but is probably the most gruesome part – though it is unclear whether the damage level is due to the scalding temperature, the amount of garlic, or both. Gilda then returns to Boston in the 1980s, where she encounters an entrancing ancient vampire lady who invites Gilda to move in with her in New Hampshire - with Bird, Sorel, and the others of Gilda’s family being welcome to stay too, when they wish.
The final two installments take place in the then-future years of 2020 and 2050, and have a more eco-sci-fi vibe. Humans have been even worse stewards of the environment in these imagined futures than has actually been the case4. I found myself thinking that, in this extreme case, the vampires should have done like those in ‘Seraph of the End’ and declared: “OK, that’s it! We’re taking over, because you humans clearly have no idea how to not drive yourselves to extinction!” But…Gilda and her family are too ethical for that, and by 2050 it is too late, because they are being hunted for their blood by rich assholes in search of immortality. Hiding in a cave in the Southwest, Gilda gets (mental) word that Bird has identified a refuge in South America, so she and a formerly-suicidal young woman she saved and turned set out on foot to join her.
4. Though Gomez greatly UNDER-estimated how tricky it would be for a romance novel writer who is also a vampire to maintain her anonymity! Also, I must admit I found the idea of people in 2020 communicating primarily through either video-phone or hand-written letter (and apparently no technology in between) delightfully quaint.
One thing I quite enjoyed about this book is how it uses a lot of the old vampire tropes, but twists them in clever ways. For instance, sunlight and running water are harmful to these vampires (a good way to seek one’s second death is to wade into the ocean at sunrise), but they can protect themselves by sewing some of their native earth into their clothes instead of just sleeping on it. I also liked how Gilda’s found family echoes the common real-world queer experience5 of needing to find the people who understand you. You can also see their dynamics as reflecting how the heteronormative assumption that you can either be lovers or friends but you can’t be friends with an ex doesn’t really work in a small community like that, where somewhat less rigid categories tend to function better.
5. Not mine, mind you: I’m an embarrassingly old baby bi who fortunately wouldn’t have had to find a substitute for bio family even if I HAD shaken off the comphet earlier (love you, Mami and Papi – you’re the best!), and who is still trying to figure out how to connect to other queer folk offline. So, I’m just going off of descriptions from other people (particularly those of the author’s generation).
Adaptation Issues
This story is a great opportunity to do a historical fantasy costume drama with queer people and people of color’s experiences built in from the start. Its episodic nature makes it poorly suited to a single movie, but potentially great for a series of some kind. The pacing might be a little slow in places relative to most people’s expectations of vampire films. However, there are several good action scenes, and some of the off-screen drama, such as Gilda’s cross-country journey to San Francisco that involved cross-dressing and cuddling up with wolves, could be moved on-screen. And, after all, ‘Interview with the Vampire’ had plenty of introspective conversations about immortality and whatnot, people seemed to like that film just fine! Filling in a few gaps - for example, by developing Eleanor and Samuel’s backstory - would also help enhance the character drama, creating more of a buildup toward the climax of their interaction with Gilda.
I’d probably give “the Girl” an actual original name and have her say why she adopted “Gilda”, since I suspect many in the audience would find that confusing. I don’t know if I would change up the 2020 technology and world setting to match the actual present. Maybe: I feel like climate-change-induced fires and floods and the rise of political groups with fascistic tendencies would work just as well as an impetus for Gilda to re-involve herself in the human world. Oh, and for God’s sake (Mr/Ms/Mx imaginary producer)…hire a woman director who can preserve the distinctly female-gaze nature of this story, and its erotic moments in particular!
