House of Margins is horror at times, but mostly horrifying as it shows how inescapable colonial harm is as its rotten roots continue to remain even now.
House of Margins presents a nightmarish blend of surreal terror mixed with colonial horror and a uniquely unforgettablenarrative style. While it suffers from an over-saturation of descriptions and sometimes a jarring shift between storytelling styles, it remains engrossing from start to finish. There are times when it becomes challenging to read because of some of the subject matter. However, the story and hope for the characters ensure it keeps readers engaged. House of Margins is horror at times, but mostly horrifying as it shows how inescapable colonial harm is as its rotten roots continue to remain even now.
Written by Tlotlo Tsamaase, the story follows the disappearance of a young Black African woman, Anaya, after winning a residency with other African women and living in a house to write and compete for the grand prize. Blending first-person and two, arguably three, viewpoints keeps the story fresh with every page turn. The horror and mystery show the legacy of colonization.
While there is some unfamiliarity, especially if you’re not from Africa and have little experience with their stories, there is a deep-seated anger and frustration as it seems like white people are alike all over. Alongside that is the pain as these Black women struggle to compete while also feeling the danger as something inside the house haunts their lives.
House of Margins Is True Crime Podcast Meets Novel
Not only does the story navigate first person through three different viewpoints, missing Anaya, her sister Ranewa, and a white woman, Miche. Some of the first-person storytelling feels typical. However, the material is engrossing. Plus, the structure feels like a podcast, complete with membership tiers that have additional perks. That’s, in fact, how we receive much of Anaya’s story. It feels as though you’re reading a transcript of a podcast.
House of Margins is immersive as readers join Ranewa and listeners on a journey to discover what happened to Anaya. Added to all of that is the question around the first-person storytelling Miche gives from Anaya’s point of view. It raises questions about what’s authentic and what’s not. Even the clues for Ranewa are based on Miche’s unaired podcast episodes.
Relationship at the Core Ties It All
Ranewa’s desperation to find her sister, Anaya, is palpable. It puts readers in her and her family’s shoes. Her relationship with her parents paints an authentic picture of a family struggling with a missing family member. Plus, her parents’ desperation, walking on eggshells to keep her close and not put undue pressure on her, speaks to the fear that’s possible during such a time.
Gives You a Desire to Separate Fact From Fiction
House of Margins left me curious about separating fact from fiction. As an Afro-Latina born in the United States, I have the most basic, rudimentary knowledge of the various countries in Africa. I researched the language spoken between the African artists in residence. Plus, there were quotes and songs mentioned in the story that do exist (added Petite Noir’s “Shadows” to my playlist). Some of the stories are traumatic to read. However, the story is about the ripple effects of colonial history and how the waves of atrocities can form an inescapable undertow, pulling in other generations.
House of Margins reminds us of the history of colonialism and weaves a story that makes you pray for Ranewa’s success as you gnash your teeth every time Miche opens her white woman’s mouth. Tlotlo Tsamaase weaves a story that bridges time and space. It also brings up a question we keep searching for answers for: how do we challenge an oppressive colonial system and history when we must play within it to engage with the masses? While there are confusing moments and disjointed pacing, House of Margins as a whole is an enriching and profound example of impactful storytelling.
