What even is this? It’s a daring, uncompromising, bonkers serious-scape of the kind that rarely gets the limelight in the UK’s contemporary literary field. Why? Because it’s subversive, off the wall and, frankly, challenging to the status quo of what literature is and does. For all these reasons, I’m glad of it.
Corey Fah is a writer who’s been awarded a prize for “the fictionalisation of social evils”, but the prize turns out to be a strange, UFO-like trophy that Fah repeatedly tries and fails to collect. Bambi Pavok, a time-travelling deer with eight legs and a spider’s “drinking-straw mouthpart”, appears on the scene. A madcap adventure unfolds in which Fah befriends Pavok (sort of) and with Drew – Corey’s partner – they become embroiled in a reality TV show about wormholes, hosted by Sean Saint Orton (an unrecognised writer whose story makes reference to the life of English playwright Joe Orton). The finale takes place in a football stadium/pop-up TV studio, where the characters travel in a time loop, trying to work out how to stop the mayhem. By the end of the novel, social mobility as we know it – awards, celebrity and “success” – has been roundly debunked.
If all this sounds like surreal nonsense, that’s because it is, deliberately so. What better way to write a satirical novel in 2023, at a time of ridiculous politicians, exponentially greedy chief executives, and the intensifying collapse of reality? Waidner’s latest novel – previous works of fiction include Sterling Karat Gold (2021, winner of the Goldsmiths prize); We Are Made of Diamond Stuff (2019) and Gaudy Bauble (2017) – is a biting, state of the nation work that raises the profile of civilisation’s appointed underdogs and challenges the status quo of binary consciousness. Corey Fah isn’t just another bright, shiny, unorthodox thing for the sake of bright, shiny unorthodoxy, not least because it engages with themes that matter – inequality, injustice, social and cultural deprivation – and it does it with a wit that’s acerbic and playful at the same time.
This is a radical, rebellious novel and it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. There were moments when I tired of the flamboyant hypercrazy – even if that was the point – but at the same time, I loved being taken out of my readerly comfort zone. It seems to me Waidner doesn’t set out to please readers but to shake us up, and this alone is enough to make me champion their novel.
If you’re looking for a mellow read, then, this isn’t the book for you: the only aspect of Corey Fah that’s quiet and understated is the character development, which means emotional engagement with the characters is slight, an aspect some readers might find disappointing. Critic Sam Burt (banditfiction.com) writes about Waidner’s characters as “social constructs” rather than “characters with a clear character arc” – the arc being something we’ve come to expect (nay, demand) from contemporary novels. But I think there’s something more pluralistic and unitive going on here, which goes some way towards filling the emotional distance gap. Corey Fah doesn’t recount the life of a singular hero, and Waidner even throws out anthropocentrism, a gesture I so appreciate in all artforms (and in life). The outcome is a strong sense of solidarity and shared experience in which each character plays its part. My only beef – and it’s small – is that this lands on an intellectual level alone.
Corey Fah is a cross between dark fable, “sonsense nong” and Kafkaesque neon rainbow, about as far as you can get from mainstream contemporary British fiction. Whether we’re drawn to Waidner’s bold, feisty work or not, its presence in today’s literary limelight is a cause for celebration. At a time when the dangers of zero-sum thinking are blatantly obvious to us all, it feels essential to engage with literary work that counters individualistic subjectivity and brings a fresh lens to our troubled world.
Em Strang’s debut novel Quinn (Oneworld) is out now
• Corey Fah Does Social Mobility by Isabel Waidner is published by Hamish Hamilton (£12.99). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply
Quinn by Em Strang (Oneworld Publications, £14.99). To support The Guardian and Observer, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
