Cherrypicker
The Everyday Horror Show

Barbi Marković presents a multi-layered episodic novel in which she mixes everyday events with elements of the fantastic. The result: educational horror stories – and the award of the Leipzig Book Fair 2024.

Minihorror tells a series of (sometimes very) short stories from the lives of the two protagonists Mini and Miki. She (Mini) is a successful author and graphic designer, he (Miki) works in an office. Both live together in Vienna; Mini, like the author herself, comes from Serbia, Miki comes from East Tyrol.

The 28 chapters, which include two “guest contributions” and a list of no less than 105 other possible scenarios for the duo, deal with the normal horrors of everyday and professional life. The everyday horrors truly manifest themselves in each story – in the form of monsters, supernatural occurrences or other horror movie-like monstrosities: In the section about the abysses of family coexistence, Mini's family buries them in actual pits; in “Lugner City”, a kind of shopping mall in which a parable of social uniformity is set, people (or at least many people) have themselves surgically transformed into Mikis: “In Dr. Mortimer's surgery ... there is chaos, twenty people waiting, each in an individual phase of their Miki-fication.”

elements of surprise with a subtle meaning

Roald Dahl, J.G. Ballard, George Saunders – big names come to mind when you try to understand what is going on here. There is, for example, the ominous tickle monster who, wearing a bad black suit, tickles victims of accidents or crimes who have been left alone: – to annoy them even more? To mock them? But isn't tickling also something nice, or a coy way of seeking closeness? You have to prepare yourself for mental exercises like these, because nothing in Mini and Miki's world is as it seems. On a stuffy company outing, Miki learns that the popular Sonnengott spices contain human ingredients, Mini's toxic cousin Jennifer, who suddenly appears in the supermarket, turns out to be a literal family-eating monster, the waitress on vacation takes Mini's place when she leaves, as if the plot follows an inescapable urge for social justice, and so on.

In this way, there are socially critical moments in every chapter, sometimes biting, sometimes bitter. No ritual, no matter how self-evident, is sacred to Barbi Marković; even cleaning the apartment together is (brilliantly) analyzed: The strength of this extraordinary book lies in the element of surprise (which is sure to occur), its value lies in what lies beneath. Each of the stories touches on a contemporary issue, be it everyday racism, beauty mania, indifference, family and love life, mental health and much more. Deciphering the stories is great fun, and the brevity of the sections turns the reading experience into a fast-paced tour de force of dopamines.

Readable, exciting and funny

Formally, it departs from the form of the linear novel, just like her highly acclaimed work Die verschissene Zeit, published in 2021. Barbi Markovic avoids eloquent capers, its complexity is hidden between the lines. She is a master of quiet, amused tones, the power of her prose comes from within. The naturalness and literary self-confidence with which she tells her story have earned her the Leipzig Book Fair Prize, albeit surprisingly in view of the strong competition, because she has succeeded in creating a relevant and topical work that is at the same time so readable, exciting and funny that it will also be able to reach readers beyond literary circles.