A bony hand caresses the cheek of a vampire, her eyes (and fangs) gleaming with pleasure. Surrounding her are two lavish stained-glass windows, reminding one of decadent cathedrals. In sensual pinks and deep reds, two images stand out; on one window, a naked, smirking, vibrant siren, being encircled in flames, almost as if she is being burned at the stake. On the other, a tall, gothic man is mostly shrouded by his black cloak, but his red eyes shine through. This is Paige Hender’s The Confessional, a stunning debut gothic horror to sink your teeth into from Silver Sprocket.
Our story begins in New Orleans in 1922. Jack the Ripper’s crimes are at their zenith in this timeline, fashion is booming, speakeasys were rife, and vampires are killing people. Above the glitz and glamour of the local speakeasy, characterised by its jazz bands, flapper dresses, smoking and getting tipsy, is a hidden bloody secret. For upstairs lives Cora Velasquez, and on the floor is a dead man. As it happens, the speakeasy is actually run by coven of vampires, and Cora is their latest addition; she’s having a little trouble adjusting to the morality of their diet, feeling both repulsed and addicted to her need for blood. Understandably fearing damnation for her soul, Cora struggles to bond with her bloodthirsty sisters, instead finding refuge in the local church, and its dashing priest, Father Orville.
It soon becomes clear that Cora and Orville’s ‘friendship’ is a mere façade for their repressed sexual attraction to each other. However, this isn’t a coming together of two equals; in lighter, dream-like sequences, Cora imagines herself and Orville in various compromising positions, but there’s something very off and sinister about the imagined intimacy. Cora appears very child-like and dependent in these panels, with the way she twists and cradles her body almost mirroring a baby in utero, rather than a woman being aroused by a lover. Due to his hold over her, it’s not long before Orville discovers Cora’s true nature, and their relationship intensifies. Of course, he proposes to be her knight in shining armour, coming up with a way to slate her thirst and save her soul by doing “God’s work”. But should Cora blindly follow the man with the wolfish smile who has so many secrets of his own?
Hender pays tribute to the style of Art Nouveau throughout the graphic novel, with attention to sinuous lines, use of stained glass motifs (most obviously exotic bodies and tendrils) and lithe, asymmetrical figures. The use of pink and red shades made the pages feel both gory and sexy at times, depending on the tone Hender was aiming for in the scene, with the pinks used in the raunchier scenes, and darker reds being used to illustrate guilt and shame. The style is so unique, with Cora appearing elfin and cutsey in some scenes, and monstrous and terrifying in others. Her metamorphosis into her true vampiric form as a human/bat hybrid is an incredible culmination of all of Hender’s best tricks; winged, horned, and with dark red eyes, Cora is in equal parts a terrifying, all-powerful, dominatrix. And, as unsettled as you should be by these visuals, you also can’t help but be drawn to her self-expression and unbridled power.
The adjective ‘confessional’ is best described as such: in which a person reveals private thoughts or admits to past incidents, especially ones about which they feel ashamed or embarrassed. At its core, behind all of the unsettling religious imagery, femme-fatale empowerment, and struggles with morality, The Confessional is really a story about just that; a confession and its consequences. How putting your trust in the wrong hands can have deadly consequences. Orville and Cora’s ‘romance’ is a dance of death; manipulative, twisted and emotionally charged. Whilst Cora’s supernatural status should theoretically ensure her dominance and safety, it is mortal Orville who holds her fate in his manipulative hands.
Sensual, grisly and totally unique, The Confessional is a triumph of a debut from Hender, who rightfully takes her place amongst other horror graphic novelists like E. M. Carroll in the gruesome hall of fame.
Paige Hender (W/A) • Silver Sprocket, $29.99
Review By Lydia Turner
