Just wow. This book is a fever dream in the best, boldest, and most bewildering way possible. Black Leopard, Red Wolf is unlike anything I’ve ever read. It’s a hallucinatory epic, a brutal reimagining of African mythology and folklore that feels both ancient and startlingly new. It demands your full attention.

Marlon James writes with fearless ambition. The prose is dense, poetic, sometimes chaotic— but always deliberate. Every sentence feels weighted, sometimes like a blade, sometimes like a spell. The nonlinear structure, the unreliable narration, the sheer intensity of the violence and sex and grief and magic all come together in a world that feels both mythic and merciless.

The storytelling doesn’t hold your hand. It drops you into the deep end and dares you to keep swimming. At times, I found myself completely disoriented and I like to think that it’s part of the experience.

Tracker, the narrator, is captivating, flawed, and haunted; and the supporting cast (especially the Leopard) is wildly unforgettable. The novel explores themes of truth, memory, queerness, power, and identity with a rawness that hits like a gut punch. It doesn’t always offer clarity, but it always offers impact.

This is not a book for everyone. But if you can meet it on its level, and sit in its chaos, its pain, and its beauty, it’s a phenomenal journey.