Mexican Gothic: Chapter 3 Summary & Analysis

Florence guides Noemí from her bedroom to the dining room downstairs. The walls are lined with cabinets crammed full of dinnerware—cups, plates, trays, and vases all bearing the stylized D of the Doyles, though all the silver looks tarnished and dull. Francis is waiting for them, and the two women sit down. A maid serves a sweet, dark wine and chicken in a creamy mushroom sauce. Noemí tries to make conversation with Francis, but Florence quickly silences them both. She explains that it’s customary not to speak during dinner; they appreciate silence in the house.

Virgil and Howard walk into the dining room, and Howard tells Florence that tonight they can make some conversation for the sake of their guest. Howard looks ancient: wrinkles gouge his face, a few white hairs cling to his skull, and his skin is incredibly pale. When she sees him Noemí thinks he looks like an underground creature—a slug, perhaps. The one thing about him that doesn’t appear bleached of color is his startling blue eyes, unimpeded by cataracts and undimmed by age. Howard sits at the head of the table, and Virgil sits on his right.

Noemí introduces herself to Howard, who returns the courtesy. Howard then remarks on Noemí’s skin color, saying that she’s much darker than Catalina. Noemí is taken aback, so Howard points at her and repeats himself. He supposes that, unlike Catalina, Noemí’s skin color reflects her Indian heritage, rather than her French. Noemí explains that Catalina’s mother was from France, while both her parents are from Mexico. She’s irritated and asks Howard what his point is. Howard replies that he is merely making observations.

Howard reveals his interest in eugenics and then asks for Noemí’s opinion on “the intermingling of superior and inferior types.” He ignores Noemí’s obvious discomfort, as does the rest of the family, who sit in silence and listen to their conversation. Luckily, Noemí has experience dealing with irritating men—they do not easily fluster her. She knows that showing any type of reaction will only embolden Howard. She retorts that she once read a paper by anthropologist Manuel Gamio, who argued that indigenous people have benefitted from harsh natural selection, and that Europeans would benefit from intermingling with them. It turns the white superior and inferior idea around, she notes.

Howard smiles, as though he’s pleased with Noemí’s answer. He quotes another anthropologist, saying that there is an “aesthetic taste” that shapes natural selection—beauty attracts beauty and begets beauty. He calls Noemí an example of this, and encourages her to accept this compliment, because he does not compliment people often. Then Howard asks Francis to help him up, since he’s tired and wishes to go to bed. The two leave, and silence settles over the dining room again. Soon Virgil invites Noemí to the sitting room, saying that he imagines she must have some questions for him.

Noemí and Virgil sit on stately armchairs in a large, dusty chamber. Virgil fills two glasses with the dark, sweet wine from dinner and gives one to Noemí. This room is better illuminated than the rest of the house, so Noemí is finally able to take a good look at Virgil. She calculates how best to act. Boys her age are easy to flatter, but Virgil is older than her. She must act seriously. He has authority here, but Noemí has authority, too—she is an envoy for her father, after all.

The two begin conversing. Noemí explains that her father is very concerned about Catalina, which is why she came to visit. She tells Virgil that Catalina’s diagnosis of tuberculosis does not explain the alarming letter that she wrote. Virgil tries to pacify Noemí by claiming that Catalina wrote the letter while her fever was at its peak, but Noemí doesn’t buy it. She asks what doctor is treating Catalina and demands to meet him. Virgil acquiesces, saying that their doctor, Arthur Cummins, comes by every Thursday to see Catalina and Howard. Noemí can speak to him then.

The pair continue to chat in the sitting room. Virgil’s tone softens, and Noemí begins to think he might not be as hostile as she first thought. They talk about the house, and Virgil comments that Catalina finds the house’s reliance on candlelight romantic. This gives Noemí pause; Catalina has always loved Gothic novels, and High Place does seem like the kind of home that she would find enchanting. Perhaps her illness really was nothing more than a fever.

Virgil offers to pour Noemí another glass of wine. She already feels the effects of the drink, and Virgil’s hand brushes against hers as he moves to refill it. Noemí tells Virgil that she’s had enough, but he insists. She notices a new vitality in his face, as if he’s found something that he’s interested in. Noemí, however, flatly refuses another glass, so Virgil escorts her to her bedroom so she can go to sleep.