Kids Run the Show by Delphine de Vigan (Europa Editions)

The premise is uncomfortably familiar. Mélanie, a woman raised on a steady diet of reality TV, finds her purpose by broadcasting her children’s lives to millions. When her daughter Kimmy disappears, the facade of the digital "happy family" cracks, bringing in Clara, a detective who represents the antithesis of this performative existence. De Vigan follows the history of our screen infatuation from the early days of Big Brother to the near-future 2030s, when the psychological bill is finally due.

Mélanie isn't a villain in the traditional sense, which makes her more tragic. She is a product of a culture that equates visibility with love. She views her children less as autonomous humans and more as high-performing assets in a digital portfolio. Clara, whose inner world is characterized by seclusion and a subdued sense of obligation, is the essential grounded observer. A life lived for the lens and a life lived for oneself are at odds, and the conflict between them goes beyond a missing child.

The book is an incisive examination of modern narcissism. We have reached a point where parents treat their children’s childhoods as raw material for content, effectively turning home life into a 24-hour unpaid internship. De Vigan captures the subtle horror of kids who "play" their own lives, performing joy for a camera until the line between genuine emotion and scripted response disappears. It is a somber reflection of a society that values "like" over actual experience.

The prose is exactly what I'm looking for: simple, direct, and free of superfluous embellishments. De Vigan writes with clinical precision that resembles the chilly glow of a smartphone screen. She avoids being overtly preachy, instead relying on her insights. The detective element keeps the action moving, but the true mystery is how we all agreed that privacy was a reasonable price to pay for digital relevance.

It's a sobering read that avoids the usual thriller tropes. The near-future pieces feel like a warning, whilst the present-day sections feel like a mirror. After reading this, you may find yourself giving your own social media habits a second thought. It’s a necessary look at the cost of being "on" all the time, and a reminder that once a childhood is digitized and sold, you can't really buy it back.

4/5