Victor LaValle's novel "The Changeling" and Jordan Peele's film "Get Out" both tap into a potent vein of contemporary American horror, though through different mediums and specific narrative paths. While LaValle's work is a sprawling, mythic reimagining of New York City and the anxieties of parenthood, Peele's "Get Out" offers a more focused, satirical critique of racial microaggressions and the performative liberalism of white America. Despite these differences, a deeper analysis reveals striking thematic parallels: both works utilize supernatural or uncanny elements to externalize deeply felt social and psychological anxieties, particularly concerning Black identity and belonging in a hostile or deceptive society. Furthermore, both LaValle and Peele employ a narrative strategy that begins with a seemingly grounded, relatable premise—the challenges of new parenthood and a budding interracial romance, respectively—before descending into nightmarish explorations of systemic oppression and existential dread.
"The Changeling" centers on Apollo Kagwa, a rare book dealer in Queens, whose life is upended by the birth of his son, Brian, and the subsequent, inexplicable tragedy that shatters his family. LaValle masterfully weaves a fairy tale, specifically drawing on elements of "The Fair Folk" and urban folklore, to create a world where the familiar streets of New York become a labyrinth of hidden dangers. The "changeling" of the title refers to a creature from folklore that replaces a human child, and this myth becomes a potent metaphor for Apollo's fear of losing his son, both literally and figuratively, to forces beyond his understanding. His search for Brian and his wife, Emma, leads him into a hidden, magical realm beneath the city, populated by grotesque, indifferent, and often cruel beings. This descent into the uncanny mirrors the feeling of alienation and powerlessness many individuals, particularly Black men, can experience within societal structures that seem designed to misunderstand or even harm them. The book's horror doesn't just stem from the monstrous creatures but from Apollo's profound isolation and his struggle to reconcile his perceived failures as a husband and father with the overwhelming external forces at play. His journey is one of rediscovering a lost sense of self and agency in a world that has already deemed him vulnerable.
Jordan Peele's "Get Out" operates on a similar principle of confronting insidious societal horrors through a heightened, genre-inflected lens. The film follows Chris Washington, a young Black photographer, as he visits the family estate of his white girlfriend, Rose Armitage, for the first time. What begins as an awkward, yet seemingly benign, introduction to Rose's liberal-minded parents quickly devolves into a deeply unsettling experience. Peele expertly crafts a sense of unease through subtle cues: the overly solicitous politeness of the parents, the unsettling stares of the Black groundskeeper and housekeeper, and the chilling pronouncements of the father, Dean, about his admiration for Obama. These elements, while individually dismissible as social faux pas, accumulate to create a palpable sense of dread. The film's central horror is revealed to be a conspiracy by the white elite to transplant the brains of Black individuals into their own bodies, effectively stealing their talents and vitality. This "sunken place," a concept that refers to the Black consciousness trapped and silenced, is a powerful allegory for the historical and ongoing erasure and exploitation of Black bodies and minds in America. "Get Out" uses the familiar trope of the "meet the parents" visit to expose the performative nature of white liberalism and the deeply ingrained racism that can lie beneath a veneer of progressivism.
The connection between "The Changeling" and "Get Out" lies in their shared ability to use speculative fiction to articulate Black experiences of fear and alienation. For Apollo, the magical underworld represents a primal fear of losing control, amplified by his Black identity in a city that can feel indifferent or hostile. His desperate search for his son becomes a quest for meaning and stability in a world that has rendered him a stranger in his own life. Similarly, Chris's journey in "Get Out" is a terrifying manifestation of the anxieties faced by Black individuals navigating predominantly white spaces. The film brilliantly satirizes the ways in which white society can fetishize, commodify, and ultimately dehumanize Black culture and identity. The horror in both works is not merely external; it is a reflection of internal anxieties about belonging, worth, and the very definition of self in societies that often deny or distort these realities. Both LaValle and Peele succeed in creating narratives that are both deeply unsettling and profoundly resonant, using the power of the uncanny to illuminate the very real terrors of the human condition, particularly as experienced by Black Americans.