Colonial Exploitation and Extraction in Our Share of Night

The Thematic Claim: Extraction as the Engine of the Order's Power

In Our Share of Night, Mariana Enriquez builds a horror narrative on a stark economic and spiritual premise: the Order's wealth, longevity, and access to the supernatural are not earned but extracted from colonized and subjugated bodies. The cult's power is a direct inheritance of colonial violence—from the forced journey of a Nigerian priestess to the caged prisoners held at the family estate. The novel argues that the supernatural is not a separate realm but a mirror of historical exploitation: the Darkness feeds on human suffering, and the Order feeds on the Darkness. The thematic claim is that colonial exploitation and extraction are not merely historical backdrops but the ongoing, living foundation of the Bradford–Mathers dynasty, and that every ritual, every Ceremonial, and every act of faith is a transaction paid in the blood, labor, and dignity of the colonized, the poor, and the vulnerable.

Colonial Origins: The Scottish Youth and the Land Theft

The novel's first extended history lesson comes from Rosario's grandfather, Santiago Bradford, who tells the story of the Order's founding. The first medium they found was a Scottish peasant boy, the son of a farmer, who used a sheep's scapula to predict the future. The two English gentlemen, William Bradford and Thomas Mathers, took him from his village near Inverness, convincing his parents that he would die in the rebellion. The boy was brought to London, where he was forced to summon the Darkness almost daily, sometimes twice a day. The evidence is explicit: “They had forced him to summon almost every day, sometimes twice a day.” After he threatened to kill them and bit Thomas Mathers, they tied him up, and the restraints likely caused the brain hemorrhage that killed him. Rosario notes that the diaries never recorded his name, only “the Scottish youth,” and she reflects: “That is also what it is to be rich: that contempt for beauty and the refusal to offer even the dignity of a name.”

This episode establishes the pattern of extraction: a rural, colonized subject (Scotland was under English domination) is taken from his community, his body is used as a conduit for the supernatural, and when he resists, he is restrained and destroyed. The Order does not see him as a person but as a resource—a “medium” to be used until broken. The same logic applies to land. William Bradford's son emigrated to Argentina and participated in the Conquest of the Desert, the military campaign that dispossessed and murdered indigenous peoples. He received government land as payment for his military action—“the most fertile land in the world.” He was, in Rosario's words, “a very efficient murderer of natives” and also a researcher of the occult who never found the Darkness. The land itself is a form of extraction: stolen from its original inhabitants, then used to build the family's wealth through yerba plantations, sawmills, and ships. The novel makes clear that the family's fortune is built on looting, alliances with politicians, and taking sides in civil wars—all classic colonial mechanisms.

Olanna: The Extracted Priestess

The most direct and devastating example of colonial extraction is the story of Olanna, a Nigerian priestess taken by George Mathers in 1919. The evidence describes her as a fifteen-year-old girl, fragile, with scars on her forehead, a priestess from a noble family. George Mathers, an agent of the National African Company, witnessed her rituals and decided to take her to England to give the Order a medium. The narrative states: “Taking her was very simple for a man in his position. For us, it is always easy to get what we want.” This line encapsulates the colonial mindset: the ease with which a white man can appropriate a person's body and spiritual power.

Olanna was brought to London, where she performed the first Ceremonial. She was forced into rituals that left her feverish, bleeding, and malnourished. The evidence describes how she survived only two months, and in her final delirium she wept. Lily, George's wife, tried to comfort her, but the Order's leader, Christopher Mathers, ordered that her tears be collected in vials. After her death, she was buried in Highgate Cemetery with a stone sphinx but no name or dates, because “the burial of an African teenager in a state of malnutrition caught the authorities’ attention, but the Matherses’ money could silence any scandal.” Even after death, her body is not left in peace: her skull, embellished with jewels, is used by the women of the Order in secret meetings. This is the ultimate extraction—the use of a colonized person's remains as a ritual object.

Olanna's story is not just a historical anecdote; it is the template for the Order's ongoing practice. The novel shows that the Order's power depends on the consumption of human bodies, and that the bodies are always those of the colonized, the poor, or the vulnerable. The Scottish youth was a peasant; Olanna was a Nigerian girl; and in the present, Juan is a sickly Swedish boy kept by the Order, and the prisoners in cages at Chascomús are unnamed, dehumanized people.

Present-Day Extraction: Juan and the Caged Prisoners

The novel's present-day narrative centers on Juan, a medium who is both powerful and utterly controlled. He is kept by the Order, his parents removed, and his body is used for Ceremonials. Rosario, his custodian, learns that the Order plans to transfer Juan's consciousness into Gaspar's body when the boy turns twelve—a plan that treats Juan as a disposable vessel. The evidence from chapter 2 shows that the Order depends on Juan's sick body for the Revelation, and that if he tried to run away, they might return to the “traditional method” of using him as a “mere messenger or slave.” This language directly links Juan's situation to slavery and colonial servitude.

The caged prisoners at Chascomús are another manifestation of extraction. Rosario is forced to feed them, and the novel implies they are held for ritual purposes. The outline states that Rosario is punished by her mother Mercedes and forced to feed prisoners kept in cages. This is a literal form of human extraction—bodies held captive for the Order's use. The prisoners are unnamed, their origins unknown, but they are clearly treated as expendable resources.

The novel also shows how the Order's exploitation extends to its own members. Eddie, Stephen's brother, is a failed chosen one. The evidence from chapter 2 reveals that Eddie was subjected to horrific abuse as a child—he was offered to men and to the dead, starved, and forced to remember symbols. Florence, his mother, put him in a basement and let him scream day and night. Eddie's story shows that the Order's extraction is not limited to colonized outsiders; it also consumes its own children when they are deemed useful or when they fail. But Eddie's case is different: he is a blood child, a member of the family, yet he is still treated as a tool. The novel suggests that the Order's logic of extraction is totalizing—it reduces everyone to a function, whether medium, prisoner, or heir.

Character and Symbol Connections

Rosario serves as the novel's anthropologist and moral witness. She is born into the Bradford family and benefits from its wealth, but she also recognizes the exploitation. She says, “All fortunes are built on the suffering of others, and ours, though it has unique and astonishing characteristics, is no exception.” This is a direct acknowledgment of the colonial extraction that underpins her family's power. Yet Rosario is complicit: she becomes Juan's custodian, she participates in rituals, and she even helps Juan kill Eddie. Her position is one of ambivalence—she critiques the Order but cannot escape it.

Florence Mathers is the enforcer of extraction. She believes in the Order's faith, but her belief is inseparable from her willingness to destroy her own son. The evidence shows that she put Eddie in a basement and starved him to make him remember symbols. She is the embodiment of the colonial administrator who justifies violence as necessary for a higher purpose.

Juan is both victim and perpetrator. He is exploited by the Order, but he also wields the Darkness and uses it to kill. In the Other Place, he tells Eddie, “This is my land.” This phrase is telling: Juan, a colonized subject in the sense of being owned by the Order, claims the Other Place as his own territory. The novel complicates the simple victim/oppressor binary by showing that the exploited can also become exploiters, or at least can internalize the logic of domination.

The symbols reinforce the theme. The Darkness is a force that demands blood and offerings; it is fed by the Ceremonials. The Other Place is a realm of suffering, filled with hanging bodies, severed hands, and torsos—a landscape of extraction. The Hand of Glory, a symbol Rosario longs for, is a severed hand used in rituals, another image of bodily commodification. San La Muerte, a folk saint associated with death and protection, appears in the novel as a figure of the marginalized, but the Order co-opts such figures for its own ends.

Complexity and Contradiction

The novel does not present a simple moral equation. The Order's members genuinely believe in their faith; Florence says that “a cult that doesn’t offer everlasting benefits... does not construct a faith.” Their belief is not cynical—it is a conviction that justifies any cruelty. This is the same logic that drove colonial missionaries and administrators: the belief that they were bringing civilization or salvation, even as they destroyed lives.

Another contradiction is that the mediums themselves are not passive victims. Juan has power, and he uses it to protect Rosario and to kill Eddie. He is not merely a tool; he is an agent, even if his agency is circumscribed. The novel asks whether the exploited can ever truly escape the system that created them, or whether they are forever marked by it.

Rosario's position is the most contradictory. She is an anthropologist who studies the Order's history, but she also participates in its rituals. She loves Juan, but she also helps him commit murder. She is both a critic and a beneficiary of the system. The novel refuses to offer a clean resolution, suggesting that complicity is inescapable for those born into wealth and power.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How does the novel use the story of the Scottish youth to establish the theme of colonial extraction?

The Scottish youth is a peasant taken from his village by the English gentlemen, forced to summon the Darkness, and killed when he resists. His name is not recorded, and he is treated as a disposable resource. This establishes the pattern of taking a colonized person's body and spiritual power for the Order's benefit, a pattern that repeats with Olanna and Juan.

1. What role does Olanna's skull play in the narrative, and what does it reveal about the Order's attitude toward the colonized?

Olanna's skull, embellished with jewels, is used in secret rituals by the women of the Order. This shows that the Order's extraction extends beyond death—even the remains of a colonized person are commodified and used as tools. It reveals a complete dehumanization, where a person's body is reduced to a ritual object.

1. How does the novel connect the Order's supernatural power to historical colonial violence, such as the Conquest of the Desert?

William Bradford's son participated in the Conquest of the Desert and received land as payment for murdering natives. He also searched for the Darkness in the pampa. The novel links the theft of land and the murder of indigenous peoples to the Order's quest for supernatural power, suggesting that the same logic of extraction drives both.

1. In what ways is Juan both a victim and a perpetrator of exploitation?

Juan is a victim because he is kept by the Order, his body used for Ceremonials, and his consciousness is to be transferred to Gaspar. However, he also wields the Darkness and kills Eddie, and he claims the Other Place as “my land.” This shows that the exploited can internalize the logic of domination, becoming agents of the system that oppresses them.

1. How does Rosario's role as an anthropologist complicate her position in the Order?

Rosario studies the Order's history and recognizes that all fortunes are built on suffering. She critiques the exploitation, but she also benefits from it and participates in rituals. Her complicity highlights the difficulty of escaping a system one is born into, and the novel uses her perspective to expose the contradictions of colonial power.