The Evolution of Breaking the Rules: Transgressive Fiction, Metamodernism, and New Voices
- Ryan Mahokey
- 6 days ago
- 4 min read
By Ryan Mahokey
For those of you who frequent Neda’s blog, you’re most likely very familiar with Transgressive Fiction (TF), the authors who have upheld the genre, and why it is just so fu#%ing awesome. TF is not only something I love, but something that I believe I owe a lot to. Not only did it further cement my love of reading and writing, but it made me feel a sense of belonging in a world where many of us feel like misfits. For that reason, I’m currently focusing on TF as my dissertation topic for my Ph.D. in literature. While I have not even begun to truly delve into the depths of the many texts I have to read, I have noticed a very important trend that has developed into the crux of my research: TF has departed from the tales of postmodern irony, gratuitous violence, and the abandonment of all meaning and hope that once made up the genre.
While these works are certainly still published here and there, both the founders of TF and the up-and-coming authors have broadly adapted to a new style of transgression that deserves further investigation. This new type of literature is what I have called “Post-TF.”
To understand and define Post Transgressive Fiction, there has to be a pivotal moment where things changed. We start off by knowing that TF had an utter boom in the ‘90s with works like American Psycho (book 1991, movie 2000) and Fight Club (book 1996, movie 1999); therefore, Post-TF has to be pretty new. My question was not answered by my own (limited) intuition, but by Chuck Palahniuk, my literary personal idol. In an interview with the This is Horror podcast, he said that TF had to adapt after the 9/11 attacks. While there may be further disagreement on when this transfer happened, I believe this argument makes, by far, the most sense. When discussing his own shift into horror writing (Not Forever, But For Now, Invention of Sound, Shock Induction), he says: “I have been kind of experimenting with horror ever since 9/11. Because with 9/11, suddenly Transgressive Fiction became impossible to write or to sell, because transgressive acts became synonymous with terrorism and it seemed like the real world was outstripping the fictional world in terms of transgression” (“Chuck Palahniuk Interview” 22:05-28). Discovering Chuck’s insight put everything into perspective for me and gave me a direction for my study. However, not all of the work has been done.
Post-TF can be most easily identified by the presence of metamodernism—an offshoot of postmodernism which keeps the original traits of the genre while adding optimism to it. Take the movie Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022). This film, for those who haven’t seen it, deals with the question of the multiverse; if we had the option to see the all of our other selves and how they function in their own, separate universes, wouldn’t that send us into the darkest pit of nihilism? At first, the film answers the question with a strong affirmation. As our protagonist, Evelyn Quan Wang, grapples with her own humble life as a laundromat owner with an optimistic-to-a-fault husband, a senile father, and a daughter who has long departed from her family’s desires for her, the alternatives to her life appear grand. As she battles her way through the multiverse, however, she learns that meaninglessness and happiness are not mutually exclusive. The ending shows her as finally happy with the life that she once regretted choosing. For this reason, Everything Everywhere All at Once certainly has the elements of postmodernism, but it is certainly not just another work of postmodern fiction.
Now, back to Post-TF. Denis Johnson in his masterpiece of a short story collection, Jesus’ Son, ends the first story, “Car Crash While Hitchhiking,” with his drug-addicted protagonist in the emergency room. The setting reminds him of the last time he was in the hospital while going through withdrawals. As he describes being given a sedative by a nurse, he says, “It was raining. Gigantic ferns leaned over us. The forest drifted down a hill. I could hear a creek rushing down among rocks. And you, you ridiculous people, you expect me to help you” (10). This quotation beautifully sums up the Transgressive Fiction that we know and love from the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s—these authors could not care less about helping you. They don’t want to teach you a lesson; give you hope for a better future; affirm your religion or moral code; or even take precautions to assure that you’re not disturbed or frustrated by their work. These were the qualities that made the Golden Era of TF so riveting.
As time has continued moving and the worms wait to feast on our rotten, stinking corpses, work that is truly transgressive has been avoided by mainstream publishers—leading established authors like Palahniuk to adapt his style to the times and up-and-coming transgressive authors to seek publication in independent presses such as Outcast Press, run by Sebastian Vice; and Anxiety Press, run by Cody Sexton. These presses showcase authors who are anything but trapped in a bygone era; they are showing the ability of our misfit crowd to grow, adapt, and create the work that we need right now possibly more than ever. If you’d like to venture into this new metamodern world of Post-TF, I encourage you to check these presses out at your earliest convenience. They are forging their own paths in ways that give me great hope in the future of our genre. Cody was even kind enough to publish two of my short stories [LINK][LINK] in his online publication, A Thin Slice of Anxiety. While the snobs, traditionalists, and pearl clutchers of academia and beyond may hate it, Transgressive Fiction is here to stay.
Keep fighting.






