Mukbang, for those who don’t know (because I didn’t before I read this book – LOL) is a broadcast genre which consists of people consuming copious amounts of food in front of a camera for an audience on the internet. This form of entertainment began in South Korea in the mid-2010’s and has gained a lot of traction.
BUT…don’t think for one minute this book is solely about some gelatinous slob sitting in from of a camera and eating a bunch of food for viewers. While that is at the core, it’s only a catalyst for bigger things in this intricate human study.
Alyanna Poe warns you what you’re getting into with the triggers at the beginning. I do have to say I wish one of the triggers wasn’t there because it gives away a surprise. But, anyone who picks this book up to read it should be ready for the filth and gore that is to come.
Jack, the main guy, is pretty disgusting, and Poe goes into great sickening details about his wretched eating habits, and the sick perverted nature of his endeavor. At the beginning of the book, I hated Jack and felt for his wife Mia. But this book swings back and forth through emotions and attitudes dealing with hope, hopelessness, success, failure, isolation, shattered dreams, narcissism, evil intent, fear, self-pity, and mental breakdown enough to keep me changing my opinions of both characters. The emotional states of these two are so volatile, I went through a range of feelings about them. Turns out, they’re both just regular people who messed up and got lost in the shuffle of alienation brought on by the pandemic.
But…there are others besides Jack and Mia lurking in Poe’s brainchild ready to pounce from the shadows.
While both of our protagonists are dangerous enough to themselves and each other – they are not the people about whom we should worry. There are others, and Poe delivers a harsh truth when introducing us to them: No matter how vile someone in your life might seem, and no matter how bad you think you’ve had it, there may be those who are far more disturbed and have had it far worse than you and those in your life.
I’m going to stop there as far as telling you about the plot. I don’t want to give anything away. Instead, I’ll tell you what we have here with Alyanna Poe’s MUKBANG: We have an extreme horror novel that is perverse and disgusting, but a beautiful and intricately designed character study weaved into a love story. Because, at its core, this IS a love story, just a romance that has gone wildly awry involving two relatively shallow individuals who once had very high opinions of themselves brought low by the near collapse of the COVID-19 society. Yes – there is some gore, there are some disturbing transgressive moments, and the content alone will not be for everyone – but MUKBANG is also an engrossing human interest story with some insightful social commentary.
For those who incorrectly call splatterpunk a genre full of gross-out books with no breath and life, let them read MUKBANG. If they don’t see it as a well-drawn portrait of the human condition, then they simply don’t get it.
And as for Poe – being the cousin of the great and revered Edgar Allan Poe boy, it seems great writing ability runs in that family, because Alyanna can sure write! She has a seamless narrative and eye for detail that keeps you fascinated; she understands the pain and sorrow of her characters so well, you feel like they are in the room with you because they come out so alive. It’s often the little details writers capture that add life to their tales, such as when a sinister individual’s face is half-lit by an outside light, for example. There’s a lot of those little nuances in this book. She utilizes the morbid, grim, and haunting aspects of living so well to convey her story, her late cousin would no doubt be proud.
Needless to say, I highly recommend this one to those with strong stomachs and a penchant for the darker, dirtier side of humanity. This is my first time reading this Poe, but like with old Edgar, I’ll be reading more of her work.
5/5
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