by Brooke Warra
The Weird is dangerous.
The Weird is not meant for you. So it says on the first two pages, a stark warning, of which you should not pay any heed. Go forth, reader.
The Weird is not a book. It is an experience. It is noir on an acid trip. It’s what happens when style and gore have a baby. It’s nihilistic transgressive experimentalism on a frenzied binge.
S. C. Burke’s story is told in a series of tableaus, labelled as “Exhibits,” stark and sometimes jarring illustrations, and seemingly random diversions. Remember House Of Leaves? It’s like reading House Of Leaves while being sucker punched. We read from the point of view of a serial killer, an arsonist, victims, and others on this turbulent journey. All of these characters and stories are circling that ever-present, all-consuming, all-knowing Thing: The Void. The story is bleak, the tales are violent, and the details are dirty. But anyone who has ever stared into that void and felt despair, or who’s looked around themselves and not felt an unease at being alive in this world, will delight in this book.
This work is not for the squeamish or for people who prefer their heroes and villains to be neatly drawn. Lines are blurred and the gray area is vast. There will be no clear distinction between the good, the bad, and the ugly.
S. C. Burke has created not just a book, not just a piece of graphic, uncompromising art, but an experience that is altogether cerebral and very often visceral. The words will creep their way into your mind and underneath your skin, burrowing in like happy little parasites, and making a nest there.
You can find The Weird: A Strange Novella by S. C. Burke on Amazon.