The Empusium: A Health Resort Horror Story

The Empusium reprises many aspects of Thomas Mann’s The Magic Mountain: a sanatorium (this one in Lower Silesia) for the treatment of tuberculosis; a time period set in 1913 just before World War I; and a primary character, a young (Polish) engineer.

Tokarczuk’s novel, however, falls into the ambiguous category of literary suspense and is woven through with magical realism, disconcerting point-of-view switches involving unexplained “we” observers, and verb-tense changes from past to present. When the latter two elements are encountered, at first one might think these were written in error by the author (or incorrectly translated), yet as the novel progresses, the reader senses these forays into an omniscient voice are deliberate. A quick peek at the subtitle, A Health Resort Horror Story, and the epigraph: “Otherness watches us from the shadows” (Fernando Pessoa) reminds us that this isn’t a straightforward literary novel.  

The main character, Mieczysław Wojnicz, is an ailing 24 year old who is obsessed about being watched. Ever alert, he tries to discover what is happening in the guesthouse reserved for gentlemen TB patients and in the mysterious dark forests above the town. When the wife of the guesthouse’s proprietor hangs herself, Wojnicz is suspicious that her death may not be a suicide, but there are many other ominious occurrences that he tries to decipher, such as a cemetery full of headstones inscribed with the same November day of death and unnerving nocturnal sounds he hears above his bedroom. As Wojnicz puzzles on these, he also drops subtle hints about his own personal secrets.

The word “empusium” is never quite explained in the book. It appears to be from “empusa” or “empousa,” a shape-shifting female in Greek mythology. The noun is significant, but it takes Tokarczuk until the last pages to shed light on this enigmatic title. In fact, the elusive quality of the plot and Wojnicz’s physical and mental wanderings take the reader on a circuitous journey that might be more concisely constructed.

Instead, the author freights the story with frequent conversations between the male patients as they drink a semi-hallucinatory liquor, Schwärmerei, and discuss philosophy. Mostly, however, the men rail against women in lengthy misogynistic rants. “Woman represents a bygone, inferior stage of evolution.” Or: “motherhood is the one and only thing that justifies the existence of this troublesome sex.” “a woman’s body belongs not only to her, but to mankind. . . . As she gives birth, she’s public property.” There is lot of talk about God, too. Since the author is a staunch feminist and anti-Christian, we know these vitriolic diatribes are intentional, yet reducing their number would advance the story.

Throughout the novel, Tokarczuk is attentive to detail: “[Coughing] . . . had become part and parcel of the house, its sonic architecture.” “A corroded moon lorded it in the sky.” Or in one of the omniscient introductory passages: “Against the deep red of the western sky the whole figure [Wojnicz] gives the unsettling impression of having arrived here, in these melancholy mountains, from the world beyond.” Atmospheric descriptions about nature and insightful observations about the characters are strengths throughout the book.

What propels the novel are the quietly rendered intimations regarding Wojnicz and about another young patient, Thilo, which are sprinkled just often enough to provoke curiosity and retain the suspenseful thread. There are also mentions of the Tutschi, female figures created from forest products which the local charcoal burners use for sexual relief. There are also tales about women who have fled into the forest. Witches? Or just in the men’s chauvinistic imaginations?

This novel may inspire a reading (or re-reading) of The Magic Mountain, which is celebrating its centennial year and thus nicely coincides with the 2024 publication of The Empusium. Yet despite their strong similarities, Tokarczuk’s book stands apart from Mann’s work because of its strange otherworldliness and its elements of magical realism.

Olga Tokarczuk is a winner of the 2018 Nobel Prize in Literature, the first female Polish prose writer to be awarded the honor. Her novel, Flights, received the International Booker Prize.