Isle McElroy's novel covers a deep exploration of marriage, love, and the ways we know one another — while also touching on how so much of how we navigate the world depends on how it sees us.
(Image credit: Harper Via)
Set in the near future, C Pam Zhang's atmospheric novel centers on a chef who takes a job at a tech entrepreneur's isolated compound after smog kills most of Earth's plant and animal species.
(Image credit: Penguin Random House)
Let me start with a vocabulary lesson. “Analog horror” is a sub-genre of horror fiction that utilizes the aesthetics of VHS tapes and TV broadcasts from the 80s and 90s. It’s basically the quirky younger sister to found footage, but while found footage horror relies on the reactions to the horror off-screen (like how in the Blair Witch Project we never actually see the titular witch, but we see and hear the characters’ reactions) analog is more focused on the slow-burn marriage of uncanniness and dread. It’s a sub-genre that is very unique to the 21st century and very internet-based, and one I am intimately familiar with since I was born in 1997 and came of age alongside its advent on YouTube.
MISTER MAGIC by Kiersten White is amazing because it manages to capture the uneasiness, uncanniness, and fear of analog horror without the added aid of visuals. Centered on the mysterious cancellation of beloved children’s program “Mister Magic,” the novel introduces us to the now adult cast of the show as they struggle with adulthood and find solace in their skewered memories of the show. However, the thing about this show is it doesn’t seem to exist. No recordings of it can be found, no one knows who directed or produced it, and no one remembers what channel it was on. Both cast and cultishly devoted fans alike only have fractured memories of the moral lessons hammered into them by the show. Moral lessons the adult cast now question. Horror aside, MISTER MAGIC is an interesting dissection and critique of children’s programming and modern-day parenting as well as an exploration of childhood trauma. The novel is certainly weird and eccentric- this is horror after all- but at its core it’s deeply emotional, existential, and atmospheric. It’s a must-read for weird book lovers and anyone who grew up reading Creepypastas.
unCovered Review by Samantha LeRoy, ACLS Mays Landing Branch