One of the riskier things you can do in your literature class is refer to any old work of reality-bending fiction as “magical realism.” In my classes, it’s happened twice this week: an unwitting student uses the term magical realism to describe a book or short story that leans fantastical, and the professor is quick to correct their claim, reminding them that the genre has a complex historical and political history. Far from being a rookie mistake or a superfluous correction, magical realism is a frequently misunderstood term. 

Fantasy, as a genre, emerged from the mythology and folklore innate to every burgeoning culture (from The Thousand and One Nights to the Odyssey), so it naturally comes in all shapes and sizes: today, fantasy is considered an umbrella term containing dozens of subgenres. Much of the time, popular works of literature thought to be magical realism can actually be classed under the genre of “low fantasy,” which describes stories set in our world—also called the “primary” world—that incorporate one or more fantastical elements. Low fantasy books include Good Omens and Tuck Everlasting. Its converse genre, high fantasy, refers to stories set in an entirely fantastical or “secondary” world; think Eragon and Lord of the Rings.

Often, the differences between magical realism and its sister subgenres are not as clear-cut as the differences between low and high fantasy. There is no unanimously agreed-upon definition of magical realism, and the genre has undoubtedly morphed across time. In its most basic form, magical realism can be described as a literary genre that melds the primary world with magic in order to commentate on reality; but this is an oversimplification of the genre. In order to avoid provoking the ire of your literature professor, here are 5 situations where you can (probably) invoke the term magical realism.

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1. If you’re referring to twentieth century German paintings.

Before it became known as a literary style, magical realism was a term used in early twentieth century Europe for visual art. In her book Magic(al) Realism, Maggie Ann Bowers traces the origin of the term to the German art critic Franz Roh. In 1925, he coined the term Magischer Realismus to describe post-expressionist paintings, which employed a hyper-realistic style and highlighted the “non-material aspects of reality.” Among the painters Roh named as magical realists were Max Ernst and Alexander Kanoldt.

The Elephant Celebes, Max Ernst

In the introduction of his book Post-expressionism, Magic Realism: Problems of the Most Recent European Painting, Roh wrote: “With the word ‘magic,’ as opposed to ‘mystic,’ I wished to indicate that the mystery does not descend to the represented world, but rather hides and palpitates behind it.” Roh’s book was translated into Spanish in 1927 and published in the Madrid-based magazine Revista de Occidente. The magazine was especially popular with literati in the Americas, which leads to our next situation:

2. If you’re reading fantastical Latin American literature…

Magical realism, as we understand it today, emerged in Latin America in the mid-twentieth century.. In his essay “Magical Realism in Spanish America,” Luis Leal urges readers not to consider The Metamorphosis to be the earliest literary work of magical realism, stating: “if…in Kafka’s story the characters accept the transformation of a man into a cockroach, their attitude toward reality is not magic; they find the situation intolerable and they don’t accept it.” 

Leal instead points toward Venezuelan historian and writer Arturo Uslar Pietri as the originator of the term “magical realism” in Latin American literature. In his 1948 book Letras y hombres de Venezuela, Uslar Pietri wrote: “What became prominent in the short story and left an indelible mark there was the consideration of man as a mystery surrounded by realistic facts. A poetic denial of reality. What for lack of another name could be called magical realism.”

Renowned writers Miguel Ángel Asturias and Alejo Carpentier (from Guatemala and Cuba, respectively) began to discuss magical realism—or “the marvelous real,” as Carpentier called it—toward the end of the 1940s. In 1949, Carpentier published a novel titled El reino de este mundo, which is considered an early example of, or at least a precursor to, magical realism. In this novel, which explores the Haitian Revolution, the supernatural blends with ordinary life.

3. …but not always.

Of course, not every work of fantastical literature written by a Latin American author should be filed under the singular label of magical realism. In his essay “What We Talk About When We Talk About Magical Realism,” Fernando Sdrigotti argues that the genre, since its inception, has been used to pigeonhole Latin American literature according to outdated and exoticist beliefs. “If anything, magical realism—in its juggling of exoticism and legibility, a combo that Edward Said would have called Orientalist when occurring in other elsewheres—is a practical marketing ploy, a reduction by means not of absurdity but of obfuscation—a crude simplification through fuzziness,” writes Sdrigotti.

Novelist Jorge Volpi has also spoken on the topic: “But even in purely literary terms, the absolute identification of Latin America with magical realism has wreaked havoc. In the first place, it erased, with a single stroke, all of Latin America’s previous explorations—from the babblings of the 19th century to some of the brilliant recent moments of our literature, including the avant-garde of the beginning of the 20th century. And it became a choke-chain for those writers who didn’t show any interest in magic.”

When referring to magical realism, therefore, take care to remember that all literature from a particular region cannot be funneled into a monolithic space; stories are as diverse as the people who write them. That being said, it’s probably safe to mention magical realism in the following situation. 

4. If you’re reading One Hundred Years of Solitude, or another work by Gabriel García Márquez.

Magical realism is often mentioned in the same breath as Gabriel García Márquez, one of the foremost masters of the genre. Born in Colombia in 1927, García Márquez was a journalist by trade and an author of short stories and novels. He is best known for his novel One Hundred Years of Solitude, which takes place in a fictional city called Macondo and follows seven generations of the Buendía family as they navigate tropical storms, war, and supernatural events: characters are visited by ghosts, are born with pig’s tails, are able to levitate. 

Gabriel García Márquez

The novel was based, in part, on the history of Colombia, and retells several historical events (such as La Violencia from 1946 to 1956 and the fighting under the “National Front” coalition) with a magical slant, while commenting on real-world Latin American politics. One Hundred Years of Solitude was instrumental in winning García Márquez the 1982 Nobel Prize in Literature, and inspired a literary renaissance in Latin America known as the “boom,” during which time authors such as Julio Cortázar and Clarice Lispector rose to international prominence.

5. If the low fantasy story comes from a marginalized perspective, and criticizes aspects of political or social life.

According to author Theo L. D’Haen, who wrote an essay titled “Magical Realism and Postmodernism: Decentering Privileged Centers,” magical realism can be distinguished from genres such as postmodernism because of the perspectives it centers. “It is precisely the notion of the ex-centric, in the sense of speaking from the margin, from a place ‘other’ than ‘the’ or ‘a’ center, that seems to me an essential feature of that strain of postmodernism we call magic realism,” writes D’Haen. He describes magical realism as an intentional break from the discourse surrounding realism and postmodernism, arguing that these latter genres, stemming from privileged centers, appear suspect to those on the margins of them.

D’Haen names Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie as an example of more contemporary magical realism, since the novel centers India (and Indian perspectives of their country and society) rather than the Western world or a Western perspective. He also mentions Nights at the Circus by Angela Carter, which D’Haen argues is magical realism because it rewrites a classic mythology—the rape of Leda by Zeus—from a feminist perspective. Other works that could be considered magical realism include Life and Death are Wearing Me Out by Mo Yan, which is narrated by animals and comments on societal changes and tragedies and China, or Beloved by Toni Morrison, which follows a formerly enslaved woman who is haunted by the ghost of her daughter.

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If all else fails, there’s a wealth of descriptors for fantastical stories: you only need to find the right one. “Historical fantasy” describes a story set during a real-world historical period that incorporates otherworldly elements. “Urban fantasies” are set in real or imagined urban environments, although the setting should feel familiar regardless of its reality. “Contemporary fantasy” denotes fantasy set in the modern day; in these stories, magic is often kept hidden from the outside world. “Science fantasies” are stories that blend fantastical elements with science fiction. When in doubt, shout “low fantasy” out. If you’re unsure what exactly qualifies as magical realism, chances are your literature professor knows: sometimes it’s better just to ask.