Book Review: "The Eyes are the Best Part" by Monika Kim

I had no idea what this book was going to be about before I got it because again, I fell into the trap of judging a book by its cover. I mean, just look at the covers of the book - all of them look so freaky and strange I had to have it. I read a little bit about how this was the author's debut novel and got a bit sad thinking about the fact I wouldn't be able to investigate anything they had written before. A deeply disturbing horror novel that flickers with social commentary, bleary-eyed with satire and then spits on itself with black comedy; this is really one for our modern ages - a truly great contemporary horror novel.

From the outset, the narrative takes its time, immersing the reader in Ji-won’s life. At 18, she is caught in a web of expectations, obligations, and the weight of her Korean-American heritage. Kim weaves a poignant family drama that delves into the immigrant experience with remarkable authenticity, exploring themes of cultural identity, generational conflict, and the sense of alienation that often accompanies life in the margins of Western society. These elements form the bedrock of the story, grounding it in an emotional reality that makes the transition into horror all the more impactful. When we learn that Ji-won's father has left her mother for another woman, we really feel the true impact of loss often characterised in peppermint candies her father ate at home. The narrative takes us back to such stifling moments, colouring them sour with the lack of a tomorrow for the parents' relationship.

As Ji-won wrestles with her place in a world that simultaneously rejects and fetishises her, the horror begins to creep in, not with loud, bombastic shocks, but with a quiet, insidious dread that seeps into the cracks of the story. The shift is masterful, as the author transforms a deeply personal exploration of identity into something phantasmagorical and nightmarish. The grotesque imagery (centred, as the title suggests, on the human eye) is not just unsettling but deeply symbolic, representing themes of perception, objectification, and control. I really enjoyed how this story gets underway so slowly but with this strange atmospheric shift. And you definitely feel it. It is as though you were taking a photograph of a landscape and someone tipped you over - your photo may come out a bit tilted but every part is still there.

What makes this book stand out is its refusal to rely solely on shock value. Yes, the horror is graphic, and the gore is unflinching. There are moments so visceral they feel almost unbearable to read. But beneath the blood and carnage lies a razor-sharp critique of societal issues. Kim dissects misogyny, racism, cultural fetishisation, and hypersexualisation with unflinching honesty, making the horror not just physical but existential. The most disturbing moments aren’t just the acts of violence but the systemic injustices and microaggressions Ji-won endures, moments that feel all too real for many readers. I have not really seen this idea explored very much especially from a non-Anglo point of view. What I am hoping from this author is that she continues with social critiques more often, possibly even exploring other genres with it. There is something stabbing and wounding here that everyone is responsible for. As Ji-won discovers that she is subjected to it, the reader also discovers that they have stood by and let it happen.

Ji-won’s journey is as much about self-discovery as it is about revenge. Her struggle to reconcile her family’s traditional values with her own identity as a young woman in a Western society feels painfully authentic. The portrayal of the immigrant experience (how it shapes, limits, and empowers) is one of the novel’s greatest strengths. For readers who have lived through similar experiences, Ji-won’s narration will feel both familiar and cuttingly raw. For others, it offers a vital perspective on what it means to live as both “other” and “exotic” in a society that insists on defining people by their differences. This is probably most seen when George takes the three women (mother and two daughters) out to dinner for the first time and they go to a Chinese restaurant in which he keeps commenting on how much he loves 'Asian' stuff. As someone who comes from Asian heritage - I am from Indian parentage, I know absolutely nothing about the Chinese or Korean experience because we are different people.

All in all, I think that if I gave away too much of the storyline I'd be in trouble of spoiling the book but I will say this: if you are going to read any dark-comedy or horror satire book this year then please make it this one.