White is for Witching

I read this enthralling and disquieting story while I was in NYC, which turned out to be ideal timing because I read it right before and immediately after my first momentous visit to Sleep No More. This book so beautifully complemented and fed the simultaneous dropping and parting of veils I’d just experienced. White is for Witching, by the time I got to it, came with quite a bit of hype, including naming Oyeyemi as Shirley Jackson‘s heir. In a way, I find this unfair. I’m a tremendous fan of Shirley Jackson, but I think Helen Oyeyemi has her own voice and style. Simply taken as a high compliment, however, I think it’s a beautiful statement. White is for Witching manages to be haunting from the very first while also being a wickedly slow burn of weirdness. It’s a ghost story. It’s a haunted house story. It’s a story of intergenerational trauma, institutional racism, familial bonds, friendship, love, hunger, and identity. I haven’t read anything else quite like it, which is one of the best things I can say about a book.