Deen Chris’ debut novel, Oh Marty, is the tale of a young Guyanese boy seeking understanding for a struggle he cannot name.

Oh Marty occurs over the course of, at most, a couple of weeks. Yet the events of this story, as well as the height of its emotional stakes, make it a truly gripping saga. Marty is a young Guyanese boy living with undiagnosed dyslexia, and shouldering the challenges of this condition alone. While the mistakes he makes at school are a source of humiliation, he suffers far more violent consequences at home. Books, which are Marty’s most beloved possessions, also carry the threat of his parents' fury if they are discovered. In navigating this environment of neverending fear, Marty finds solace in simple things: the adoration of a stray dog, the nurturing attention of a teacher, and the obscure familiarity of a green light that streaks across the sky. When even these comforts are ripped away, Marty must decide if he will continue to endure, or step into the unknown.

Oh Marty shines in its vivid depictions of the protagonist’s inner world. The reader is drawn into a landscape that is shaped by Marty’s hopes and fears, and uniquely understood through his adolescent eyes. Chris’ prose is poetic and lyrical, animating the environment such that it becomes a character itself: “A bottle had struck his face hard enough to break a tooth and fill his mouth with blood, yet the house had absorbed it and continued with the evening.” Much of what makes Chris’ writing so rich are his depictions of Guyanese culture and life. Cassava pone is the expression of a teacher’s care, while bunjal chicken is the centerpiece of a dinnertime argument. Guyana’s relationship to the oil industry and the conflict over Essequibo stoke the rage of Marty’s father. The prevalence of drug addiction in the city streets is a subtle throughline that reaches a shrieking crescendo. While there are some passages that verge on being overladen with description and detail, Chris’ articulation of a young boy’s uninhibited desire to be loved is what grounds this story.

The element of science fiction that runs through Oh Marty is delightfully elusive. The reader spends much of the novel wondering whether the mysterious green light outside Marty’s window is the fabrication of a lonely boy, or something more sinister. Ultimately, this serves as another quiet thread that becomes central to the book’s final climax. A feature that is not so subtle is the depiction of violence. Scenes of parental abuse are graphic and detailed, and the reader is not given the reprieve of a closed-door transition. Chris’ choice to fully elaborate these episodes forces the reader to reckon with the struggle of those whose disability is misinterpreted as laziness. Some readers, however, may be surprised at the level of brutality given the YA sensibility of the narrative as a whole. For those who are able to stomach depictions of physical abuse, Oh Marty is a culturally grounded story of adolescent struggle and an absolutely worthy read.