Hemo Sapiens by Emily A. Weedon

Reviewed by Robert Runté

Occasionally, one should judge a book by its cover. The cover of Hemo Sapiens is a sophisticated, modern take on art nouveau that tells us this is from a sophisticated literary press (Dundurn) with refined tastes one can trust. I fully confess that when I first came across Hemo Sapiens, I wasn’t that interested, but the cover reveal intrigued me. The novel behind that cover did not disappoint.

Vampires. It’s a vampire novel!

But oh, it is so much better than I had initially assumed. This is no mere Dracula reboot, no Stephenie Meyer sparkling pedophiles, no bats or dark and stormy nights. This is a completely fresh, feminist, anthropological take, brilliant in every detail.

I am reluctant to give away too many of those details because drilling down through the many layers here is a big part of what makes the book so enjoyable. Weedon skilfully balances the character arcs of her five POV characters against the background narrative of a trainee detective chasing down a serial killer, our POV vampire. But while there are glimpses of a police procedural here, much of our detective’s time and energy is preoccupied with the demands of his pregnant wife. I can’t decide if this should be required reading for couples adjusting to pregnancy—or carry a warning label.

Who am I kidding? I’m a fan; you should totally get this book.

Weedon has this unique ability to make the portrayals of her POV characters both compelling and mundane. Weedon’s depiction of a narcissistic grad student, for example, will be wincingly familiar to any academic. Even the vampires are realistic and relatable because they are recognizable as personalities we’ve all encountered. The result is a novel that skewers absolutely everyone because at the exact moment we recognize ourselves, our neighbours, or our bosses, we realize Weedon’s characters are largely unreliable narrators, preoccupied with rationalizing their own behaviour while dismissing everyone around them as unreasonable, mean, or irrelevant. There is an underlying, self-deprecating humour running through the novel that asks the reader to take a long, hard look at their own motivations.

If I had to nitpick a minor flaw, it would be the scene where the hero overhears the villain monologuing. That was just a little bit too convenient. But hey, it’s more than compensated for by the multitude of scenes where Weedon’s touch is just right: the primal cravings of pregnancy; the bone-deep horror of people reassuring you everything is fine, when it most assuredly is not; the attempt to calm oneself through the simple act of cooking, but failing utterly. There are some really memorable lines and exchanges here, and the basic premise elevates the vampire trope to an entirely new level.

Recommended fall reading, whether you are a regular of fan of the vampire stories, or never thought to read one before.

Hemo Sapiens is published by Dundurn Press.