COREY FAH DOES SOCIAL MOBILITY

Nothing is as it seems in this bizarre satire of the literary life by London-based author Waidner.

When Corey Fah is named the winner of the Award for the Fictionalisation of Social Evils, they’re a bit nonplussed. The author attended the online prize announcement wearing a T-shirt and joggers, and is sent to Koszmar Circus, somewhere in the “international capital” where they live, to pick up their trophy. They soon find themself eyeing a UFO: “Circa half a metre tall, it hovered directly in my eyeline. It radiated neon beige, what a concept. I just stood there, one hand on my head, the other on my hip, considering the likelihood.” They discover they’re not alone: Also present in the circus is a fawn, with “four spider’s legs” and “multiple sets of eyes, like that seraph-filtered kitty on Instagram.” The deer, which they name Bambi Pavok, follows them home, and Corey soon learns that the UFO was their trophy and the prize committee is annoyed that they didn’t retrieve it. Meanwhile, Corey and their long-suffering partner, Drew Szumski, an interpreter, become alarmed when the wormhole-obsessed host of their favorite television series, St Orton Gets to the Bottom of It, has a small meltdown on air. Add to this “a one-toothed rabbit with a white chest, flushed cheeks, and a set of behavioural problems,” a possibly time-traveling playwright, and Corey’s own ambivalence about their newfound notoriety and you get another gleefully anarchic novel from Waidner, who was shortlisted for the Orwell Prize (the real-life Award for the Fictionalisation of Social Evils, one supposes) for Sterling Karat Gold (2023). This is a deeply funny and unrelentingly bizarre look at the vagaries of literary success, and although Waidner loads it with their trademark absurdity, it’s still grounded by the author’s straight-faced (but lively) prose. It’s beginning to look like there’s nothing the immensely talented Waidner can’t do.

Another smart, entertaining dispatch from Waidner's bizarro world.