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Cuckoo
Cuckoo is a searing new novel from Manhunt author Gretchen Felker-Martin, where a motley crew of kidnapped kids try to stay true to themselves while serving time in a conversion camp from hell.
In the late 90s, five queer kids, whose parents want them “fixed,” find themselves thrown together at a secretive "tough love" camp deep in the scorching Utah desert.
Tormented and worked to the point of collapse by hardline religious zealots intent on straightening them out, they slowly become aware that something in the mountains north of the camp is speaking to them in their dreams, and that the children who return home to their families have...changed.
In the late 90s, five queer kids, whose parents want them “fixed,” find themselves thrown together at a secretive "tough love" camp deep in the scorching Utah desert.
Tormented and worked to the point of collapse by hardline religious zealots intent on straightening them out, they slowly become aware that something in the mountains north of the camp is speaking to them in their dreams, and that the children who return home to their families have...changed.
352 pages, Paperback
Expected publication June 11, 2024
About the author
Gretchen Felker-Martin
12 books953 followersGRETCHEN FELKER-MARTIN is a Massachusetts-based horror author and film critic. Her debut novel, Manhunt, was named the #1 Best Book of 2022 by Vulture, and one of the Best Horror Novels of 2022 by Esquire, Library Journal, and Paste. You can follow her work on Twitter and read her fiction and film criticism on Patreon and in TIME, The Outline, Nylon, Polygon, and more.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 72 reviews
April 25, 2023
Do you honestly think anything by Gretchen is not going to fuck hard? Like come on, get real.
January 25, 2024
Like MANHUNT, this is a blisteringly angry book: a constantly burning blow torch pointed at homophobia, transphobia, and, especially, the pervasive scourge of hidden, ignored, and socially approved child abuse. But also like MANHUNT— perhaps even more so— CUCKOO has great tenderness for its immensely damaged protagonists, and also takes the time to flesh out and empathize with some of its odious antagonists. This nuanced characterization provides a necessary counterpoint to the rage that fuels the novel, and makes it more moving and memorable than most other politically charged, hyper-violent works of fiction. There are quiet moments of connection and sorrow that are going to stay with me far longer than the scenes of dynamite explosions and shoot outs with shrieking, starfish-faced cops.
Along with strong character work, Felker-Martin’s vivid sensory descriptions stick out. The primary antagonist is nauseating, with smell doing at least as much to convey the alien wrongness of the Cuckoo as its monstrous appearance. Elements from obvious (and acknowledged-in-text!) pop culture precedents like THE THING and INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS are re-worked into something uniquely grotesque. The more mundane horrors-- a mother slamming her child's fingers in a door as punishment, conversion camp goons beating a sixteen year old girl to get her into the back of their truck, teens dehydrating and blistering with sunburn as they trek across the Utah desert-- are actually harder to read about. In contrast, beautiful evocations of the wild American landscape, the joys of existing in a human body (whether sexual or sensual), and fleeting moments of safety, calm, and interpersonal harmony drive home what the heroes (and the world) stand to lose. This is a queer pulp epic perfectly aimed at the present political moment, for all that it’s set decades in the past.
Along with strong character work, Felker-Martin’s vivid sensory descriptions stick out. The primary antagonist is nauseating, with smell doing at least as much to convey the alien wrongness of the Cuckoo as its monstrous appearance. Elements from obvious (and acknowledged-in-text!) pop culture precedents like THE THING and INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS are re-worked into something uniquely grotesque. The more mundane horrors-- a mother slamming her child's fingers in a door as punishment, conversion camp goons beating a sixteen year old girl to get her into the back of their truck, teens dehydrating and blistering with sunburn as they trek across the Utah desert-- are actually harder to read about. In contrast, beautiful evocations of the wild American landscape, the joys of existing in a human body (whether sexual or sensual), and fleeting moments of safety, calm, and interpersonal harmony drive home what the heroes (and the world) stand to lose. This is a queer pulp epic perfectly aimed at the present political moment, for all that it’s set decades in the past.
January 7, 2024
the absolute EDGE of my tolerance for gross out shit (which isn't super high but isn't nothing) but that's what it's supposed to do just know that going in
the star is off because i had a really hard time with the names of the none pov characters being thrown in after they didn't appear for several pages so i would have a hard time remembering who was who
the star is off because i had a really hard time with the names of the none pov characters being thrown in after they didn't appear for several pages so i would have a hard time remembering who was who
February 4, 2024
A 1990's conversion camp with a sinister secret? Sure, sign me up. A group of queer teens battling a horrific evil? Uhm, of course I'm all for it.
Cuckoo is simultaneously tender and cheeky but also quite dark and twisted. Imagine an 80's summer camp horror movie and Invasion of the Body Snatchers mashup and you'll get the gist. It's not write-home-to-mother good, but it's definitely worth a read.
Cuckoo is simultaneously tender and cheeky but also quite dark and twisted. Imagine an 80's summer camp horror movie and Invasion of the Body Snatchers mashup and you'll get the gist. It's not write-home-to-mother good, but it's definitely worth a read.
April 1, 2024
Reading for review in the April 2024 issue of Library Journal
Three Words That Describe This Book: utterly terrifying, character focused, Cosmic Horror
I was struggling between Body Horror and Cosmic in the three words. Both themes are big here but the Cosmic wins out.
Draft Review:
It’s the summer of 1995, and readers watch as teenagers from all over the country are taken forcibly from their homes, one by one, tied up again their will, and placed into unmarked white vans to be taken to Camp Resolution, a gay conversion camp hidden in the Utah desert, miles from civilization, with no contact with the outside world. Told by the full cast of well drawn and authentic characters and in three distinct parts– a stage setting prologue of short story length, set in 1991, the meat of the novel set at camp, and an action-packed final section taking place in 2011–this is a novel where the pacing is brisk, the world building immersive, effectively employing all five senses, the plot intriguing, original, and existentially terrifying, and the emotions, raw. Readers will quickly become invested in each of the teens, feeling their physical and psychological pain, ultimately rooting for them against all odds. Seething with anger at horrors both real and supernatural, this is a story that sets out to whip the reader up and inspire them to protect queer kids at all costs.
Verdict: No one writes like Felker-Martin and her unrelenting and brutally honest novels are crucial inclusions to all Horror collections. Pair with Chuck Tingle’s Camp Damascus or Lucy Snyder’s Sister, Maiden, Monster, but also, this is a great update to the classic Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
The prologue was well done. It is set 4 years before the action of part 1. It is more like a short story than a prologue and it sets the scene perfectly. It puts the reader on edge and primed me for the horror that was to come. That reminded me of what SGJ did with The Only Good Indians.
There are a lot of narrators here, but I liked that. Part 1 which is the bulk of the novel and set at the camp mentioned in the summary, bounces around between a lot of different kids. We are in and out of their POV frequently. I found that this drew me into the story immediately. Each kid was unique and interesting, their situations different.
Without all of those POVs, I would not have gotten as invested in their plight and may not have followed the story through to see what happened to them. While the storyline of what happens at the camp is important, while the world building behind what is going on their was very well developed, it is the characters who carry this story and fuel all the feelings-- the terror, the anger, the rage.
Speaking of that world building-- Felker-Martin uses all 5 senses and gets them on the page. You smell things-- like really smell them, feel the heat, there are visceral descriptions that you can almost touch, you can see the landscape, you are there with the characters as they explore each other and themselves sexually.
I am struggling with giving this the proper readalikes because I don't want to give things away, but after reading it and seeing the publisher description I feel okay saying this is Invasion of the Body Snatchers updated from a 21st century queer point of view. If you liked Camp Damascus, this book is different but they feel like cousins.
I also thought of Queen of Teeth by Hailey Piper, The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling, and Sister, Maiden, Monster by Lucy Snyder while reading this, but none of these are the right comp because they all miss one of the key things about this book, something that makes it unique and an important read, and that is the rage and anger that explodes off of every page. And not just the character's anger and rage, not just the author's, the book is written for you, the reader to seethe with anger as well. There is terror here. It is a terrifying book but the terror is supernatural and all too real. But the fact that the story invokes both terror and anger is remarkable.
Which leads to the final point-- I am not sure how any human can read this book and not want to protect queer children from a world that wants to destroy them. I mean, I know how; I am not dumb. But you have to be full of hate and unwilling to allow others to live their authentic lives. I think this is a book that may make many who think they are allies of the queer community-- especially the trans community--realize that they were not doing enough to show their support. This book will call these people out and I hope, inspire them to go out and act.
4.5-- almost a star. I gave Manhunt an unequivocal star. Why not this one? A few very small reasons that are nit picky about its construction. The main section (part 1) which takes place all at the camp in 1995, I think it could have been shorter so that Part 2 which is set in 2011 could have been longer. What to cut? I have opinions on what details from part 1 matter more than others (I will not share because spoilers), but the key is that I would have loved 50 more pages before the final showdown (which was great) to give the characters as they are "now" more depth and like 50 fewer pages in part one. The pacing was good so more pages overall would not be good. One of the best things about part 1 was how the characters were developed with nuance and care (mentioned above), I wish that part wasn't as rushed in part 2.
Overall this is a book that needs to be read by all Horror fans, yes, but I feel like the people who need to read it most won't and that makes me even more angry.
Three Words That Describe This Book: utterly terrifying, character focused, Cosmic Horror
I was struggling between Body Horror and Cosmic in the three words. Both themes are big here but the Cosmic wins out.
Draft Review:
It’s the summer of 1995, and readers watch as teenagers from all over the country are taken forcibly from their homes, one by one, tied up again their will, and placed into unmarked white vans to be taken to Camp Resolution, a gay conversion camp hidden in the Utah desert, miles from civilization, with no contact with the outside world. Told by the full cast of well drawn and authentic characters and in three distinct parts– a stage setting prologue of short story length, set in 1991, the meat of the novel set at camp, and an action-packed final section taking place in 2011–this is a novel where the pacing is brisk, the world building immersive, effectively employing all five senses, the plot intriguing, original, and existentially terrifying, and the emotions, raw. Readers will quickly become invested in each of the teens, feeling their physical and psychological pain, ultimately rooting for them against all odds. Seething with anger at horrors both real and supernatural, this is a story that sets out to whip the reader up and inspire them to protect queer kids at all costs.
Verdict: No one writes like Felker-Martin and her unrelenting and brutally honest novels are crucial inclusions to all Horror collections. Pair with Chuck Tingle’s Camp Damascus or Lucy Snyder’s Sister, Maiden, Monster, but also, this is a great update to the classic Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
The prologue was well done. It is set 4 years before the action of part 1. It is more like a short story than a prologue and it sets the scene perfectly. It puts the reader on edge and primed me for the horror that was to come. That reminded me of what SGJ did with The Only Good Indians.
There are a lot of narrators here, but I liked that. Part 1 which is the bulk of the novel and set at the camp mentioned in the summary, bounces around between a lot of different kids. We are in and out of their POV frequently. I found that this drew me into the story immediately. Each kid was unique and interesting, their situations different.
Without all of those POVs, I would not have gotten as invested in their plight and may not have followed the story through to see what happened to them. While the storyline of what happens at the camp is important, while the world building behind what is going on their was very well developed, it is the characters who carry this story and fuel all the feelings-- the terror, the anger, the rage.
Speaking of that world building-- Felker-Martin uses all 5 senses and gets them on the page. You smell things-- like really smell them, feel the heat, there are visceral descriptions that you can almost touch, you can see the landscape, you are there with the characters as they explore each other and themselves sexually.
I am struggling with giving this the proper readalikes because I don't want to give things away, but after reading it and seeing the publisher description I feel okay saying this is Invasion of the Body Snatchers updated from a 21st century queer point of view. If you liked Camp Damascus, this book is different but they feel like cousins.
I also thought of Queen of Teeth by Hailey Piper, The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling, and Sister, Maiden, Monster by Lucy Snyder while reading this, but none of these are the right comp because they all miss one of the key things about this book, something that makes it unique and an important read, and that is the rage and anger that explodes off of every page. And not just the character's anger and rage, not just the author's, the book is written for you, the reader to seethe with anger as well. There is terror here. It is a terrifying book but the terror is supernatural and all too real. But the fact that the story invokes both terror and anger is remarkable.
Which leads to the final point-- I am not sure how any human can read this book and not want to protect queer children from a world that wants to destroy them. I mean, I know how; I am not dumb. But you have to be full of hate and unwilling to allow others to live their authentic lives. I think this is a book that may make many who think they are allies of the queer community-- especially the trans community--realize that they were not doing enough to show their support. This book will call these people out and I hope, inspire them to go out and act.
4.5-- almost a star. I gave Manhunt an unequivocal star. Why not this one? A few very small reasons that are nit picky about its construction. The main section (part 1) which takes place all at the camp in 1995, I think it could have been shorter so that Part 2 which is set in 2011 could have been longer. What to cut? I have opinions on what details from part 1 matter more than others (I will not share because spoilers), but the key is that I would have loved 50 more pages before the final showdown (which was great) to give the characters as they are "now" more depth and like 50 fewer pages in part one. The pacing was good so more pages overall would not be good. One of the best things about part 1 was how the characters were developed with nuance and care (mentioned above), I wish that part wasn't as rushed in part 2.
Overall this is a book that needs to be read by all Horror fans, yes, but I feel like the people who need to read it most won't and that makes me even more angry.
April 27, 2024
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC.
I never been so uncomfortable when reading a book. The body horror og and gore was intense, and the real horror the kids went through, not only in the camp but also outside, was gutwrenching. Well done.
The character gallery was a bit large for me, so at times it was difficult to follow, but the high pace and high stake story made up for it.
Cuckoo is not a book for the squeamish, but a must read for fans of unsettling/gory horror.
I never been so uncomfortable when reading a book. The body horror og and gore was intense, and the real horror the kids went through, not only in the camp but also outside, was gutwrenching. Well done.
The character gallery was a bit large for me, so at times it was difficult to follow, but the high pace and high stake story made up for it.
Cuckoo is not a book for the squeamish, but a must read for fans of unsettling/gory horror.
Read
March 14, 2024All hail the queen of body horror.
March 3, 2024
This is like a cross between Invasion of the Body Snatchers and Stephen King's IT, except it's queer and takes place at a gay conversion camp instead of in the sewers.
When a group of teens are forced into a camp because of their sexuality, they'll be faced with harsh conditions in the middle of the desert, staff who physically and mentally abuse them, and threats of pain if they don't comply with instructions.
But that's just the beginning of their nightmare. Once they discover the true significance of this camp and what its true purpose is, a small group of kids realise they will have to escape or never be the same again.
Years later, their inner and outer scars from their time there still linger. And when one of them informs the others that whatever lurked in their time at camp is back, they will have to get back together to try and kill it once and for all.
This novel not only paints a horrifying picture of these so called "Christian" conversion camps but also ramps up that terror with a monstrosity that wants to replace their true selves with something supernatural, evil, and blood thirsty.
From the very first chapter, you know you're in for a creepy frightening ride as it begins with an oozy bang and never eases up on the tension throughout.
And, if you've read Manhunt by this author, you know that nobody writes about queer angst, anger, and horror like Gretchen Felker-Martin.
I highly, highly recommend this epic novel. I received an ARC of this book through Netgalley with no consideration. This review is voluntary and is my own personal opinion.
When a group of teens are forced into a camp because of their sexuality, they'll be faced with harsh conditions in the middle of the desert, staff who physically and mentally abuse them, and threats of pain if they don't comply with instructions.
But that's just the beginning of their nightmare. Once they discover the true significance of this camp and what its true purpose is, a small group of kids realise they will have to escape or never be the same again.
Years later, their inner and outer scars from their time there still linger. And when one of them informs the others that whatever lurked in their time at camp is back, they will have to get back together to try and kill it once and for all.
This novel not only paints a horrifying picture of these so called "Christian" conversion camps but also ramps up that terror with a monstrosity that wants to replace their true selves with something supernatural, evil, and blood thirsty.
From the very first chapter, you know you're in for a creepy frightening ride as it begins with an oozy bang and never eases up on the tension throughout.
And, if you've read Manhunt by this author, you know that nobody writes about queer angst, anger, and horror like Gretchen Felker-Martin.
I highly, highly recommend this epic novel. I received an ARC of this book through Netgalley with no consideration. This review is voluntary and is my own personal opinion.
March 21, 2024
2.5
This isn't bad and actually had a good plot. But man, it seemed like a lot of characters which took me out of the whole experience. I didn't find a single character likable. I slogged through this...it took me over a week to read this 300-something page book, which is just not like me. There was a sense of redemption in the end, but it wasn't satisfying and didn't really feel that way.
As always, thank you to the Nightfire team for providing me with spooky reads--this one just wasn't for ME, it happens!
This isn't bad and actually had a good plot. But man, it seemed like a lot of characters which took me out of the whole experience. I didn't find a single character likable. I slogged through this...it took me over a week to read this 300-something page book, which is just not like me. There was a sense of redemption in the end, but it wasn't satisfying and didn't really feel that way.
As always, thank you to the Nightfire team for providing me with spooky reads--this one just wasn't for ME, it happens!
April 18, 2024
I definitely liked the Invasion of the Body Snatchers vibe here. I was also surprised and delighted that this becomes pretty full-on horror. It doesn’t stint on giving you some seriously messed up situations!
Readers sensitive to blood, gore and sex, may wish to tread carefully.
Where I struggled was with some of our characters. Many of them blended in so thoroughly that I wasn’t sure who I was reading at times. In fact, there’s one character who pops up later in the book that, while ostensibly in the book the whole time, I seem to have wiped from my memory! I mean they’re suddenly in the book, all the characters know them and reference them as being part of the first part of the book, and I’m completely blank. Even after finishing the book, I would swear that this character did not exist in the first part of the book! (Note: it is entirely possible that this is a me problem. Maybe my reading comprehension was off?)
It wasn’t just this character, though. Transitions between character points of view were a bit shaky here and there and caused confusion.
Overall, I did like the book. I just needed a bit stronger characterization to really engage.
• ARC via Publisher
May 10, 2024
The prologue is incredible! Felker-Martin knows how to tell a nasty tale and I was immediately hooked.
Unfortunately, the rest of the book is not as strong as the first chapter. The biggest problem is that there are too many point-of-view characters. It is very challenging to keep track of all of them or invest in them. What's more, this is the horniest and filthiest group of kids I've ever read about. I get that they are hormonal, but these kids seem to be aroused by every human they encounter. Coupled with the author's focus on the grimier elements of like pubes on toilet seats, sweat-soaked clothes, and first kisses in bathroom stalls. I was left confused and grossed out.
The author is clearly influenced by Stephen King namely his novel It. The book reads like a what-if version of the book with kids at a gay conversion camp. Sadly, Cuckoo misses the mark. I didn't feel bonded to these characters like I did with the losers in It. Cuckoo tries to duplicate the structure of It ie having half the book with the characters as kids and the other half with them as adults. This worked in It namely due to the book being so long. It does not work in Cuckoo. The book is too short and there are too many POV characters to pull this off. One of the characters is even a shameless ripoff of Henry Bowers. To make things even more confusing, one of the characters transitions to female in the second half of the book and goes by a new name. The book assumes we know who this character is and doesn't clarify until many chapters later. This makes zero sense since the author tells us right away with another trans character,
The other reason Cuckoo fails where It succeeds is the monster. Pennywise is an epic monster that feeds on fear. The cuckoo...well, not so much. It's more like The Thing without the great body horror moments.
This one wasn't for me, but if you love Stephen King's It or LQBTQIA+ horror, it might be worth checking out. Or for a gay conversion horror novel that I did enjoy, check out Chuck Tingle's Camp Damascus.
Unfortunately, the rest of the book is not as strong as the first chapter. The biggest problem is that there are too many point-of-view characters. It is very challenging to keep track of all of them or invest in them. What's more, this is the horniest and filthiest group of kids I've ever read about. I get that they are hormonal, but these kids seem to be aroused by every human they encounter. Coupled with the author's focus on the grimier elements of like pubes on toilet seats, sweat-soaked clothes, and first kisses in bathroom stalls. I was left confused and grossed out.
The author is clearly influenced by Stephen King namely his novel It. The book reads like a what-if version of the book with kids at a gay conversion camp. Sadly, Cuckoo misses the mark. I didn't feel bonded to these characters like I did with the losers in It. Cuckoo tries to duplicate the structure of It ie having half the book with the characters as kids and the other half with them as adults. This worked in It namely due to the book being so long. It does not work in Cuckoo. The book is too short and there are too many POV characters to pull this off. One of the characters is even a shameless ripoff of Henry Bowers. To make things even more confusing, one of the characters transitions to female in the second half of the book and goes by a new name. The book assumes we know who this character is and doesn't clarify until many chapters later. This makes zero sense since the author tells us right away with another trans character,
The other reason Cuckoo fails where It succeeds is the monster. Pennywise is an epic monster that feeds on fear. The cuckoo...well, not so much. It's more like The Thing without the great body horror moments.
This one wasn't for me, but if you love Stephen King's It or LQBTQIA+ horror, it might be worth checking out. Or for a gay conversion horror novel that I did enjoy, check out Chuck Tingle's Camp Damascus.
Read
May 8, 2024DNF page 90….to many characters it’s so hard to keep up. I’m interested to see the end but I can’t keep up.
Want to read
February 2, 2024ARC received! Thank you so much, Tor Nightfire!!
I had a disgustingly-great time with Manhunt, so have been looking forward to getting more from this author. I know nothing is going to be held back and I appreciate that!
Excited for this one.
I had a disgustingly-great time with Manhunt, so have been looking forward to getting more from this author. I know nothing is going to be held back and I appreciate that!
Excited for this one.
April 17, 2024
3.5 rounded up.
This book started out with a huge bang and I was buckled up for the ride.
The part of the story when the kids are at the camp is brutal, gruesome, heartbreaking. So many things.
No one is safe. It’s absolutely savage.
Where the author lost me was part 2 (which is at about 70% of the book which is why I still liked the book as a whole).
It felt like an odd mash up of IT and The Faculty. The ending was good enough but I felt like the author just kept rambling on with her own thoughts without wondering if any of it made sense to the reader. Which, to this reader, it did not.
There was also an exorbitant amount of sex. Which I usually don’t mind, but it felt out of place. If something was coming after me like the people in this book, I think sex would be the last thing on my mind.
I suggest having a notebook ready to write down the vast amount of characters in this book and the multiple names they go by. It was very hard to keep track of everyone and at times I had to stop reading and try to remember who was who.
Overall, I liked what the author was trying to accomplish with this one. I loved the representation and the creature feature. I just felt like it needed to be edited a bit more.
This book started out with a huge bang and I was buckled up for the ride.
The part of the story when the kids are at the camp is brutal, gruesome, heartbreaking. So many things.
No one is safe. It’s absolutely savage.
Where the author lost me was part 2 (which is at about 70% of the book which is why I still liked the book as a whole).
It felt like an odd mash up of IT and The Faculty. The ending was good enough but I felt like the author just kept rambling on with her own thoughts without wondering if any of it made sense to the reader. Which, to this reader, it did not.
There was also an exorbitant amount of sex. Which I usually don’t mind, but it felt out of place. If something was coming after me like the people in this book, I think sex would be the last thing on my mind.
I suggest having a notebook ready to write down the vast amount of characters in this book and the multiple names they go by. It was very hard to keep track of everyone and at times I had to stop reading and try to remember who was who.
Overall, I liked what the author was trying to accomplish with this one. I loved the representation and the creature feature. I just felt like it needed to be edited a bit more.
March 7, 2024
Cosmic horror is always iffy for me, and I guess I wasn’t expecting it? The writing was great and the story was good, and I guess my only complaint is holy **** is this a sexual book. Is gay conversion camp horror becoming a thing? I’m really enjoying it.
Thanks to NetGalley and Tor Nightfire for this ARC. This book will be out in June!
Thanks to NetGalley and Tor Nightfire for this ARC. This book will be out in June!
May 6, 2024
If you take 'Hell Followed With Us' and ramp the intensity and grotesqueness up to max, you get Cuckoo.
Set in the 90s at a conversion therapy camp for LGBTQIA+ teens, Cuckoo follows a central cast of kids trying to survive not only the cruel counsellers and administration, but whatever is lurking in the desert and hunting them.
Much like Tananarive Due's 'The Reformatory', 'Cuckoo' roots itself firmly in real-world horrors where both the human and inhuman are monsters, and the marginalised and vulnerable find themselves at the mercy of carnivorous and systemic abuse. While the 'troubled teen industry' is somehow still legal in the US, with its parent-sanctioned kidnapping and abuses, and despite conversion therapy specifically being labelled as a form of torture, many survivors are speaking out about the mistreatments faced by children in these programmes: horror is inherently a genre with something to say about the societies we live in, and Cuckoo is especially pertinent in a world where these abuses are still taking place.
Lots of the marketing for this book links it to 'Bodysnatchers', and this is a really overt comparison, but there's also a healthy dose of Lovecraftian horror in here, like the sort you'd find in 'From the Mountains of Madness' or 'The Colour Out of Space': the notion that there are monsters out there from the depths of space which are at the top of the food-chain, and dominate humanity in both strength and intellect. Sometimes the novel delves into Lovecraft-esque purple prose, but this is manageable for any horror reader who's handled the ol' HP before. The horror aspects also lends itself very much to grotesque body horror, with parasitic and insect-esque monstrosities dominating the speculative twists, along with plentiful uses of bodily fluids - I can wholeheartedly say this book is not for the squeamish.
Despite the fact that I'm a little iffy in my opinions on prologues, the prologue here was probably my favourite part of the whole book, and honestly functions as a really creepy short story in and of itself. It's also a really nice take on hierarchy and misogyny in fundamentalist religious households, and the tenuous role that the mother takes in an inherently patriarchal world.
Something important to regard about Cuckoo is that it has a very large central cast: the narrative alternates between seven POV characters, and as such, it can sometimes be difficult to get a grip on a character before the perspective switches again, with some characters having more of an impact on the narrative than others. However, this works to a certain extent by showing characters at different stages of transitions (some characters are already trans, whereas others come to the realisation throughout), and by presenting a sense of intersectionality through the wider cast: for instance, Shelby as a Korean-American trans woman and Jo as a Japanese-American lesbian. A particularly interesting take was with Shelby's lesbian parents, whose disgust at her being trans echoes lots of current TERF rhetoric: this was something I would have loved the narrative to delve in a little deeper to.
There were some aspects which I thought dragged down parts of the narrative, but which weren't massive enough issues to make it a bad book. Firstly, there's a weird body-shamey rhetoric to some of the character descriptions, and while I understand the way that the first part of the book is set in the 90s (Gabe in particular demonstrates the 'heroin-chic' body standards of the time with an eating disorder), it become egregious when it's a character's defining trait. John gets almost no description aside from being fat - doubly so since he doesn't have the cultural background of characters like Jo and Shelby - and even after the time-skip, entire descriptions of him are as 'the fat man', which really dissolves suspension of belief after the first few uses. The way that the narrative repeatedly makes vaginas and menstruation repulsive was also something that rubbed me the wrong way, especially in the description of the Cuckoo itself: there's enough of a historical stigma around it, and though I understand how a vagina dentata has its place in horror, I just thought that in a book where there's no phallic equivalent, it's a little much to make your monster disgusting by comparing it to vaginal cavities and discharge.
Overally, Cuckoo was a compelling if not thoroughly disgusting novel, and in the vein of good horror, one with something to say. The use of the parasitic monsters taking over people and crawling on all fours, and tentacles bursting from heads, also reminded me of Marguerite Baker from Resident Evil 7 and the Las Plagas from Resident Evil 4, which is always a win in my books.
Thank you to Netgalley and Titan Books for an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
Set in the 90s at a conversion therapy camp for LGBTQIA+ teens, Cuckoo follows a central cast of kids trying to survive not only the cruel counsellers and administration, but whatever is lurking in the desert and hunting them.
Much like Tananarive Due's 'The Reformatory', 'Cuckoo' roots itself firmly in real-world horrors where both the human and inhuman are monsters, and the marginalised and vulnerable find themselves at the mercy of carnivorous and systemic abuse. While the 'troubled teen industry' is somehow still legal in the US, with its parent-sanctioned kidnapping and abuses, and despite conversion therapy specifically being labelled as a form of torture, many survivors are speaking out about the mistreatments faced by children in these programmes: horror is inherently a genre with something to say about the societies we live in, and Cuckoo is especially pertinent in a world where these abuses are still taking place.
Lots of the marketing for this book links it to 'Bodysnatchers', and this is a really overt comparison, but there's also a healthy dose of Lovecraftian horror in here, like the sort you'd find in 'From the Mountains of Madness' or 'The Colour Out of Space': the notion that there are monsters out there from the depths of space which are at the top of the food-chain, and dominate humanity in both strength and intellect. Sometimes the novel delves into Lovecraft-esque purple prose, but this is manageable for any horror reader who's handled the ol' HP before. The horror aspects also lends itself very much to grotesque body horror, with parasitic and insect-esque monstrosities dominating the speculative twists, along with plentiful uses of bodily fluids - I can wholeheartedly say this book is not for the squeamish.
Despite the fact that I'm a little iffy in my opinions on prologues, the prologue here was probably my favourite part of the whole book, and honestly functions as a really creepy short story in and of itself. It's also a really nice take on hierarchy and misogyny in fundamentalist religious households, and the tenuous role that the mother takes in an inherently patriarchal world.
Something important to regard about Cuckoo is that it has a very large central cast: the narrative alternates between seven POV characters, and as such, it can sometimes be difficult to get a grip on a character before the perspective switches again, with some characters having more of an impact on the narrative than others. However, this works to a certain extent by showing characters at different stages of transitions (some characters are already trans, whereas others come to the realisation throughout), and by presenting a sense of intersectionality through the wider cast: for instance, Shelby as a Korean-American trans woman and Jo as a Japanese-American lesbian. A particularly interesting take was with Shelby's lesbian parents, whose disgust at her being trans echoes lots of current TERF rhetoric: this was something I would have loved the narrative to delve in a little deeper to.
There were some aspects which I thought dragged down parts of the narrative, but which weren't massive enough issues to make it a bad book. Firstly, there's a weird body-shamey rhetoric to some of the character descriptions, and while I understand the way that the first part of the book is set in the 90s (Gabe in particular demonstrates the 'heroin-chic' body standards of the time with an eating disorder), it become egregious when it's a character's defining trait. John gets almost no description aside from being fat - doubly so since he doesn't have the cultural background of characters like Jo and Shelby - and even after the time-skip, entire descriptions of him are as 'the fat man', which really dissolves suspension of belief after the first few uses. The way that the narrative repeatedly makes vaginas and menstruation repulsive was also something that rubbed me the wrong way, especially in the description of the Cuckoo itself: there's enough of a historical stigma around it, and though I understand how a vagina dentata has its place in horror, I just thought that in a book where there's no phallic equivalent, it's a little much to make your monster disgusting by comparing it to vaginal cavities and discharge.
Overally, Cuckoo was a compelling if not thoroughly disgusting novel, and in the vein of good horror, one with something to say. The use of the parasitic monsters taking over people and crawling on all fours, and tentacles bursting from heads, also reminded me of Marguerite Baker from Resident Evil 7 and the Las Plagas from Resident Evil 4, which is always a win in my books.
Thank you to Netgalley and Titan Books for an advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
May 12, 2024
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
HIGHLIGHTS
~when they come for you, bite a chunk out of their arm
~stick together or they’ll break you
~that is not science
~pay real close attention to your nightmares
~the real monsters are, as usual, not the actual monsters
I’m really not kidding when I say Felker-Martin’s books don’t need trigger warnings, because her name on the cover IS the trigger warning.
*
Technically, this is a DNF review. Surprising absolutely no one, this book proved too much for me. I wasn’t able to finish it. But I read a big chunk of it, and then the ending, and I have enough thoughts for a full review, so. Enjoy?
*
I am a horror wimp. I’ve said it many times. But I loved Manhunt so much that I thought I could make it through Cuckoo too, and folx, it turns out I Cannot. My stomach is too weak, and my rage is too great. I found the supernatural, monster parts so much less scary than the human awfulness (I would not be surprised if that was deliberate on Felker-Martin’s part), and it turns out I have an easier time reading about apocalypses than I do conversion camps.
It will probably not surprise you when I say that I hate conversion camps. Of course I do. But I knew that Cuckoo was about one, and I thought I was mentally and emotionally prepared for that aspect, going in.
I was not.
It’s not as simple as, this is a Thing for me. I have read other stories about conversion camps that did not make me react this way, that didn’t claw inside me and shred my guts, the insides of my head. It’s all about execution, isn’t it? Two people can write about the same kind of monster, and one will put you to sleep while the other makes sure you never sleep again.
Spoiler: Cuckoo did not put me to sleep.
Felker-Martin’s writing is so immersive that there was just no way to keep any part of myself calmly detached. I had no chance of keeping my chill. She had me going from 0 to 100 in seconds, over and over again, every time some new awful thing happened, and it’s not that I’ve never experienced that (although not often; I can name the authors who get me that hard in Feels on the fingers of one hand), but there was something different about the emotions I felt, reading this.
I mean, Manhunt made me rage; transphobia is personal to me in a way that conversion camps are not; the willingness of a certain kind of ‘polite’ liberal and/or the kind of prim and proper cis LGBs (no T, and by gods no +) to turn their backs on trans and non-binary people is very fucking personal, and let’s not even get started on TERFs.
And yet what I felt, reading Cuckoo, exploded from somewhere even deeper than my feelings about transphobia. There was a different quality to the rage and hate and helplessness this book made me feel, something I’m not familiar with, that I don’t ever remember feeling before. I don’t know how to explain it. I can only tell you that it was kind of terrifying, feeling that. It was a bit addictive and a lot scary. I don’t know when I’ve ever sunk that deep into a story, and it’s not because of the topic, it’s not because the characters are queer. I’ve read things like that before and not felt this. This was wholly Felker-Martin’s unique brand of black magic, is all I can say.
With Manhunt, I couldn’t put the book down because I needed to be sure the main characters were going to be okay. I desperately needed them to be okay. Cuckoo, though, switches POV a lot more often, and although Felker-Martin does a very good job of giving you reasons to care about each character right away, those rapid POV shifts meant it was a bit easier not to get so attached. Combined with the nausea-hate-fury the whole book ignited in me, it was easier to walk away from Cuckoo than it was Manhunt, and I think I needed to walk away.
And I think a big part of that is because [what I read of] the horror in this book is not, as might be expected, the monsters. It’s not even the people running the camp. It’s not even the world outside the camp, which allows places like this to exist. All of those things are horrifying, and they are rage-inducing, but that’s not what got me.
It was the slowly glowing realisation that the real villains here are the parents.
Read the rest at Every Book a Doorway!
HIGHLIGHTS
~when they come for you, bite a chunk out of their arm
~stick together or they’ll break you
~that is not science
~pay real close attention to your nightmares
~the real monsters are, as usual, not the actual monsters
I’m really not kidding when I say Felker-Martin’s books don’t need trigger warnings, because her name on the cover IS the trigger warning.
*
Technically, this is a DNF review. Surprising absolutely no one, this book proved too much for me. I wasn’t able to finish it. But I read a big chunk of it, and then the ending, and I have enough thoughts for a full review, so. Enjoy?
*
I am a horror wimp. I’ve said it many times. But I loved Manhunt so much that I thought I could make it through Cuckoo too, and folx, it turns out I Cannot. My stomach is too weak, and my rage is too great. I found the supernatural, monster parts so much less scary than the human awfulness (I would not be surprised if that was deliberate on Felker-Martin’s part), and it turns out I have an easier time reading about apocalypses than I do conversion camps.
It will probably not surprise you when I say that I hate conversion camps. Of course I do. But I knew that Cuckoo was about one, and I thought I was mentally and emotionally prepared for that aspect, going in.
I was not.
It’s not as simple as, this is a Thing for me. I have read other stories about conversion camps that did not make me react this way, that didn’t claw inside me and shred my guts, the insides of my head. It’s all about execution, isn’t it? Two people can write about the same kind of monster, and one will put you to sleep while the other makes sure you never sleep again.
Spoiler: Cuckoo did not put me to sleep.
Felker-Martin’s writing is so immersive that there was just no way to keep any part of myself calmly detached. I had no chance of keeping my chill. She had me going from 0 to 100 in seconds, over and over again, every time some new awful thing happened, and it’s not that I’ve never experienced that (although not often; I can name the authors who get me that hard in Feels on the fingers of one hand), but there was something different about the emotions I felt, reading this.
I mean, Manhunt made me rage; transphobia is personal to me in a way that conversion camps are not; the willingness of a certain kind of ‘polite’ liberal and/or the kind of prim and proper cis LGBs (no T, and by gods no +) to turn their backs on trans and non-binary people is very fucking personal, and let’s not even get started on TERFs.
And yet what I felt, reading Cuckoo, exploded from somewhere even deeper than my feelings about transphobia. There was a different quality to the rage and hate and helplessness this book made me feel, something I’m not familiar with, that I don’t ever remember feeling before. I don’t know how to explain it. I can only tell you that it was kind of terrifying, feeling that. It was a bit addictive and a lot scary. I don’t know when I’ve ever sunk that deep into a story, and it’s not because of the topic, it’s not because the characters are queer. I’ve read things like that before and not felt this. This was wholly Felker-Martin’s unique brand of black magic, is all I can say.
With Manhunt, I couldn’t put the book down because I needed to be sure the main characters were going to be okay. I desperately needed them to be okay. Cuckoo, though, switches POV a lot more often, and although Felker-Martin does a very good job of giving you reasons to care about each character right away, those rapid POV shifts meant it was a bit easier not to get so attached. Combined with the nausea-hate-fury the whole book ignited in me, it was easier to walk away from Cuckoo than it was Manhunt, and I think I needed to walk away.
And I think a big part of that is because [what I read of] the horror in this book is not, as might be expected, the monsters. It’s not even the people running the camp. It’s not even the world outside the camp, which allows places like this to exist. All of those things are horrifying, and they are rage-inducing, but that’s not what got me.
It was the slowly glowing realisation that the real villains here are the parents.
Read the rest at Every Book a Doorway!
April 12, 2024
Thank you to Netgalley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
So, to preface this, let me make it clear that I enjoyed Cuckoo FAR more than Manhunt. The beginning was incredible, the horror was much better this time around, and there was no Fran. (Thank fucking g-d, there was no Fran. My entire book club detested her LOL.) And also the cover? Stellar.
That said, many of the same issues I had with Manhunt are ones I had with Cuckoo.
I’m beginning to think Felker-Martin and I just don’t mesh well, stylistically; I dislike how short each POV is, making the book feel like a series of vignettes rather than a cohesive story. Just like in Manhunt, she absolutely fails at establishing the passage of time. It mentions around 65% in that the kids have been at the camp for literal weeks…but there is nothing suggesting that. If anything, it felt as though they’d been there for a few days. A week would be generous. I did a mental double take when I read the line specifying how much time had passed. Nothing felt in any way grounded in the progression of events.
There was quite a bit of whiplash at the start of the book, with characters being introduced left and right with little to no breathing room. And just when you think you’re settling in and have figured out who is who, there’s someone new. Each POV begins with action and at times it was hard to differentiate between the experiences of the characters. Don’t get me wrong, the action was great—Felker-Martin’s strength lies in heavy action scenes. The finale of Manhunt was incredible and she’s managed to improve her skills even more in Cuckoo.
Another strength of hers is in her characters. There are a ton of people to root for. Even some of the kids you don’t initially expect to like, you’ll find yourself on the edge of your seat with worry over by the end. There were some moments at the end that actually made me tear up.
Which brings me to my next point: the kids.
*Commercial voice:* Hello there! Are you one of those lucky readers who read Steven King’s “It”? Have you spent the last thirty-eight years desperately craving more of the child orgy scene you happened upon in the crisp autumn of October 1986? Why, then look no further than Cuckoo by Gretchen Felker-Martin, where you can read bizarro drug-induced child orgy scenes in droves!
Okay in all seriousness, I don’t mind reading about teens having sex. Kids are having sex whether we like it or not; that’s just a fact. What I do mind is (and this will sound very petty)…Gretchen Felker-Martin’s sex scenes lmfao. There is something about them that makes me deeply uncomfortable. A prime example is from Manhunt (tw for rape here), when Robbie rims Fran’s unwashed ass while Beth lies in post-rape agony, bleeding and crying, like five feet away. Like…girl?? You haven’t had access to toilet paper in literal weeks, and you’re letting this stranger tongue you while your purported best friend suffers mere feet away from you? GIRL?? Absolute insanity.
Cuckoo has the same weird, gratuitous sex. It has it in droves. I’m not above begging for it to stop.
Another thing it has, is racial slurs. I’m 99.9% certain Felker-Martin is white, and I would consider myself racially white in the US, so maybe this is just my whiteness speaking, but the fact that there are so many racial slurs written plainly makes me…a little uneasy. You are supposed to dislike the characters using them and it’s explicitly a bad thing, which makes me FAR less likely to point fingers and scream, “racist!” when a malicious character saying heinous things is in no way indicative of the author’s own views. (In other words, I really don’t think she’s a racist.) But I think it should be stated so readers know what they’re getting into. There are racial slurs used in this book. Specifically anti-Japanese, anti-Vietnamese, and anti-Mexican ones.
Now onto the body horror. Can I say, yes please? Give me more, queen? The body horror (and the horror in general) in Cuckoo was exquisite. It was decent in Manhunt, but she’s really upped the ante this time and boy did it pay off. There were scenes and descriptions that made me actively sick to my stomach. (This is a good thing.)
So, did I enjoy Cuckoo? Yes and no. Will I read more of Gretchen Felker-Martin’s books? Absolutely, if only for more excellent horror. And I will be cringing at the weird sex scenes all the way through.
So, to preface this, let me make it clear that I enjoyed Cuckoo FAR more than Manhunt. The beginning was incredible, the horror was much better this time around, and there was no Fran. (Thank fucking g-d, there was no Fran. My entire book club detested her LOL.) And also the cover? Stellar.
That said, many of the same issues I had with Manhunt are ones I had with Cuckoo.
I’m beginning to think Felker-Martin and I just don’t mesh well, stylistically; I dislike how short each POV is, making the book feel like a series of vignettes rather than a cohesive story. Just like in Manhunt, she absolutely fails at establishing the passage of time. It mentions around 65% in that the kids have been at the camp for literal weeks…but there is nothing suggesting that. If anything, it felt as though they’d been there for a few days. A week would be generous. I did a mental double take when I read the line specifying how much time had passed. Nothing felt in any way grounded in the progression of events.
There was quite a bit of whiplash at the start of the book, with characters being introduced left and right with little to no breathing room. And just when you think you’re settling in and have figured out who is who, there’s someone new. Each POV begins with action and at times it was hard to differentiate between the experiences of the characters. Don’t get me wrong, the action was great—Felker-Martin’s strength lies in heavy action scenes. The finale of Manhunt was incredible and she’s managed to improve her skills even more in Cuckoo.
Another strength of hers is in her characters. There are a ton of people to root for. Even some of the kids you don’t initially expect to like, you’ll find yourself on the edge of your seat with worry over by the end. There were some moments at the end that actually made me tear up.
Which brings me to my next point: the kids.
*Commercial voice:* Hello there! Are you one of those lucky readers who read Steven King’s “It”? Have you spent the last thirty-eight years desperately craving more of the child orgy scene you happened upon in the crisp autumn of October 1986? Why, then look no further than Cuckoo by Gretchen Felker-Martin, where you can read bizarro drug-induced child orgy scenes in droves!
Okay in all seriousness, I don’t mind reading about teens having sex. Kids are having sex whether we like it or not; that’s just a fact. What I do mind is (and this will sound very petty)…Gretchen Felker-Martin’s sex scenes lmfao. There is something about them that makes me deeply uncomfortable. A prime example is from Manhunt (tw for rape here), when Robbie rims Fran’s unwashed ass while Beth lies in post-rape agony, bleeding and crying, like five feet away. Like…girl?? You haven’t had access to toilet paper in literal weeks, and you’re letting this stranger tongue you while your purported best friend suffers mere feet away from you? GIRL?? Absolute insanity.
Cuckoo has the same weird, gratuitous sex. It has it in droves. I’m not above begging for it to stop.
Another thing it has, is racial slurs. I’m 99.9% certain Felker-Martin is white, and I would consider myself racially white in the US, so maybe this is just my whiteness speaking, but the fact that there are so many racial slurs written plainly makes me…a little uneasy. You are supposed to dislike the characters using them and it’s explicitly a bad thing, which makes me FAR less likely to point fingers and scream, “racist!” when a malicious character saying heinous things is in no way indicative of the author’s own views. (In other words, I really don’t think she’s a racist.) But I think it should be stated so readers know what they’re getting into. There are racial slurs used in this book. Specifically anti-Japanese, anti-Vietnamese, and anti-Mexican ones.
Now onto the body horror. Can I say, yes please? Give me more, queen? The body horror (and the horror in general) in Cuckoo was exquisite. It was decent in Manhunt, but she’s really upped the ante this time and boy did it pay off. There were scenes and descriptions that made me actively sick to my stomach. (This is a good thing.)
So, did I enjoy Cuckoo? Yes and no. Will I read more of Gretchen Felker-Martin’s books? Absolutely, if only for more excellent horror. And I will be cringing at the weird sex scenes all the way through.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 29, 2024
Thanks to NetGalley and Tor Publishing Group for an ARC of Cuckoo.
I rated this 3.5 stars, rounded up to 4.
Cuckoo follows a group of kids who are sent to a religious conversion camp by their families who want to "fix" them. After a few days being worked to complete exhaustion, the kids start hearing a voice in their dreams and notice that the ones who are sent to the mountains at the end of their stint come back as completely different people...and they realize they need to escape or they will cease to exist as the people they truly are.
This story started out with a bang in the prologue; lots of body horror and gore, which definitely was terrifying and set the tone for the rest of the novel. After that we meet various characters, and learn their tragic back stories about how they were ripped from their homes and sent to this camp to "convert" them into the kids their parents wished they had. It was extremely triggering and depressing to see how these kids went through this, and felt so alone and unloved. Once at the camp, the horror picks up again. It definitely felt like a combination of Invasion of the Body Snatchers and It. I do think this was more of an LGBTQIA+ verison of It, with the kids fighting this monster that no one believes exists, only to come back and finish what they started years after the fact when they were adults. Overall it was very emotional, the horror scenes were very terrifying and graphic, and the plot was very well-fleshed out.
I did get a bit confused at times, as a couple of the characters were trans, so they were referred to multiple times either by their names given at birth or their chosen names. There also were a lot of characters in general to keep track of, so that was just another level of complexity added to the story. Also, I do feel parts of this book dragged on past the 50% mark, and there wasn't a lot of growth from the characters as they got older, which I would have liked to see since I felt an emotional connection to some of them from the beginning. The ending also seemed a bit rushed, and if some of the fluff was removed and more attention added to the ending instead, this would have been a 5-star read for me.
Overall this was an emotional roller-coaster and I enjoyed it a lot.
I rated this 3.5 stars, rounded up to 4.
Cuckoo follows a group of kids who are sent to a religious conversion camp by their families who want to "fix" them. After a few days being worked to complete exhaustion, the kids start hearing a voice in their dreams and notice that the ones who are sent to the mountains at the end of their stint come back as completely different people...and they realize they need to escape or they will cease to exist as the people they truly are.
This story started out with a bang in the prologue; lots of body horror and gore, which definitely was terrifying and set the tone for the rest of the novel. After that we meet various characters, and learn their tragic back stories about how they were ripped from their homes and sent to this camp to "convert" them into the kids their parents wished they had. It was extremely triggering and depressing to see how these kids went through this, and felt so alone and unloved. Once at the camp, the horror picks up again. It definitely felt like a combination of Invasion of the Body Snatchers and It. I do think this was more of an LGBTQIA+ verison of It, with the kids fighting this monster that no one believes exists, only to come back and finish what they started years after the fact when they were adults. Overall it was very emotional, the horror scenes were very terrifying and graphic, and the plot was very well-fleshed out.
I did get a bit confused at times, as a couple of the characters were trans, so they were referred to multiple times either by their names given at birth or their chosen names. There also were a lot of characters in general to keep track of, so that was just another level of complexity added to the story. Also, I do feel parts of this book dragged on past the 50% mark, and there wasn't a lot of growth from the characters as they got older, which I would have liked to see since I felt an emotional connection to some of them from the beginning. The ending also seemed a bit rushed, and if some of the fluff was removed and more attention added to the ending instead, this would have been a 5-star read for me.
Overall this was an emotional roller-coaster and I enjoyed it a lot.
April 16, 2024
Thank you to NetGalley for allowing me to read an ARC in return for a fair review.
This book is trying to do something tremendous, and, mostly, it succeeds. Its failings are small things, niggling complaints about pacing and length. I'd give this book a 4.75 if possible, because it's just short of absolutely perfect. A lot of the dramatic weight could have been improved by either having fewer main characters, or more room in the book to flesh those characters out. This book is a response to Stephen King's IT, and that book is famously enormous; while this book doesn't need to be a doorstopper, it could have benefitted from a few extra pounds.
All that said, it's thematically and emotionally immaculate. The mood shifts between Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the works of Alison Rumfitt, and IT, yet it manages to entirely original. The book really comes into its own as the voices of its main cast emerge and flourish, and perhaps selfishly I wanted more time to sit with them. However, the very action-oriented horror suits this book well, and the buckling conclusion is as heartrending as it is satisfying.
This book is trying to do something tremendous, and, mostly, it succeeds. Its failings are small things, niggling complaints about pacing and length. I'd give this book a 4.75 if possible, because it's just short of absolutely perfect. A lot of the dramatic weight could have been improved by either having fewer main characters, or more room in the book to flesh those characters out. This book is a response to Stephen King's IT, and that book is famously enormous; while this book doesn't need to be a doorstopper, it could have benefitted from a few extra pounds.
All that said, it's thematically and emotionally immaculate. The mood shifts between Invasion of the Body Snatchers, the works of Alison Rumfitt, and IT, yet it manages to entirely original. The book really comes into its own as the voices of its main cast emerge and flourish, and perhaps selfishly I wanted more time to sit with them. However, the very action-oriented horror suits this book well, and the buckling conclusion is as heartrending as it is satisfying.
April 18, 2024
This book made me sick to my stomach in the best way possible. Felker-Martin's Cuckoo is unrelenting. Her style takes the "fuck you" punk grime of Poppy Z. Brite, the psychosexual horror of Clive Barker, and the nonstop overstimulation of the Wachowski sisters at their best and distills that all into something uniquely her own.
Cuckoo is the best horror story about adolescent trauma coming home to roost since "It," and manages it with brutal narrative efficiency. In the mix of profane cosmic body horror, which could make a diehard Cronenberg fanboy blush, the reader never loses the human story in the metaphor. The author deftly sidesteps the usual trap: this is one place where a particularly monstrous thing is happening. We are reminded repeatedly that even without the machinations of extra dimensional abominations, countless adolescents are pushed into unlicensed fly-by-night camps to endure unnameable forms of abuse to be "fixed" each year.
Fat camps, "troubled youth" programs, and anti-queer "conversion therapy" aren't just backgrounds for horror stories, they're repulsive dens of abuse that destroy young lives by the thousands. This book will drill an understanding of that violation of personhood into your skull with a cordless DeWalt and a steady hand. Despite this, it never feels preachy or like the sort of "thesis horror" that's desperate for critical acceptance. This book left me raw and shaking and all I can do is grovel and thank it.
In the landscape of contemporary horror, no one is doing it like Gretchen Felker-Martin.
Cuckoo is the best horror story about adolescent trauma coming home to roost since "It," and manages it with brutal narrative efficiency. In the mix of profane cosmic body horror, which could make a diehard Cronenberg fanboy blush, the reader never loses the human story in the metaphor. The author deftly sidesteps the usual trap: this is one place where a particularly monstrous thing is happening. We are reminded repeatedly that even without the machinations of extra dimensional abominations, countless adolescents are pushed into unlicensed fly-by-night camps to endure unnameable forms of abuse to be "fixed" each year.
Fat camps, "troubled youth" programs, and anti-queer "conversion therapy" aren't just backgrounds for horror stories, they're repulsive dens of abuse that destroy young lives by the thousands. This book will drill an understanding of that violation of personhood into your skull with a cordless DeWalt and a steady hand. Despite this, it never feels preachy or like the sort of "thesis horror" that's desperate for critical acceptance. This book left me raw and shaking and all I can do is grovel and thank it.
In the landscape of contemporary horror, no one is doing it like Gretchen Felker-Martin.
May 5, 2024
"their little band of rejects had fallen apart, the memory of the summer that had brought them together finally eating its way through their bonds until all they wanted was to be as far from one another as they could get."
one part "nightmare on elm street" one part "it," gretchen felker-martin's Cuckoo is one of the most innovative horror novels of the 2020's. the book follows a group of teens who meet at conversion camp, though the horrors only begin there. soon, dogs with glowing eyes, doubles of friends and the dark woods that surround them force the group to attempt to escape.
despite the initial draw, there are long passages here that spiral into what i can only describe as word vomit. while this may add an authenticity to the point of views we're introduced to, each chapter bounces around so much in a way that makes it nearly impossible to understand who's POV we're actually reading from. that, and the inherent messiness of the novels prose make for a challenging read. however, as it goes along, felker-martin's prose gets tighter and so does Cuckoo. the final 100 pages are almost perfect, and i couldn't help but wish the whole book felt this way.
one part "nightmare on elm street" one part "it," gretchen felker-martin's Cuckoo is one of the most innovative horror novels of the 2020's. the book follows a group of teens who meet at conversion camp, though the horrors only begin there. soon, dogs with glowing eyes, doubles of friends and the dark woods that surround them force the group to attempt to escape.
despite the initial draw, there are long passages here that spiral into what i can only describe as word vomit. while this may add an authenticity to the point of views we're introduced to, each chapter bounces around so much in a way that makes it nearly impossible to understand who's POV we're actually reading from. that, and the inherent messiness of the novels prose make for a challenging read. however, as it goes along, felker-martin's prose gets tighter and so does Cuckoo. the final 100 pages are almost perfect, and i couldn't help but wish the whole book felt this way.
Want to read
April 1, 2024I won another Goodreads giveaway!! Thank you Tor Nightfire and Goodreads for my copy of Cuckoo coming soon!!!
Read
May 5, 2024Dnf. 20% of the way through
This was not great, unfortunately. The writing wasn't my favourite thing in the world. There were too many characters for me to care about, especially the gross descriptions.
This was not great, unfortunately. The writing wasn't my favourite thing in the world. There were too many characters for me to care about, especially the gross descriptions.
April 28, 2024
IT meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers, with elements similar to Camp Damascus.
I didn't love this, in particular Felker-Martin's writing. In her attempt to describe every little detail and engage all the senses through words, I ended up completely confused. The Cuckoo, for example, is described with so many different elements that I had no idea what it was supposed to actually look like:
It was weird. And the descriptions, themselves, tended to be repetitive; for example, how many different ways can you say something smells sweet but poopy at the same time? (The scene of "warm root beer and diarrhea" makes multiple appearances.) Elsewhere, it's all shock value from slurs and sex and bodily functions, until, by the end, I became completely desensitized.
I did not read Manhunt, but I know many who did and enjoyed it, so I guess I expected more.
I didn't love this, in particular Felker-Martin's writing. In her attempt to describe every little detail and engage all the senses through words, I ended up completely confused. The Cuckoo, for example, is described with so many different elements that I had no idea what it was supposed to actually look like:
It was weird. And the descriptions, themselves, tended to be repetitive; for example, how many different ways can you say something smells sweet but poopy at the same time? (The scene of "warm root beer and diarrhea" makes multiple appearances.) Elsewhere, it's all shock value from slurs and sex and bodily functions, until, by the end, I became completely desensitized.
I did not read Manhunt, but I know many who did and enjoyed it, so I guess I expected more.
April 25, 2024
“He has breasts, and it’s not fair that he does, it’s disgusting, or it’s beautiful, or I hate him, or something is very wrong.” 🏕️🩸
Genre: LGBT Horror
Release date: June 11th
Rating: 3.5/5 ⭐️
Review: 1990s queer camp horror: SIGN ME UP is exactly what I said. The gore and descriptions were graphic and bold, staying true to the central message of it all. Homophobia and transphobia are explicitly shown and the people who SHOULD read it won’t, which is unfortunate. It’s a vicious and carnal conversion horror camp with raw emotions. Aside from the true horror mirrored from reality, it is a fun body horror book perfect for the summer. Do check content warnings on this one!
My dislikes: It was expected to read sex scenes, but it was done in too much disturbing detail; because they are kids, it just wasn’t up my alley. Part 1 felt extremely slow, and I understand why, but I think it could’ve been shorter. It also gets hard to keep track of characters sometimes.
Thank you NetGalley for the digital ARC 💙
Genre: LGBT Horror
Release date: June 11th
Rating: 3.5/5 ⭐️
Review: 1990s queer camp horror: SIGN ME UP is exactly what I said. The gore and descriptions were graphic and bold, staying true to the central message of it all. Homophobia and transphobia are explicitly shown and the people who SHOULD read it won’t, which is unfortunate. It’s a vicious and carnal conversion horror camp with raw emotions. Aside from the true horror mirrored from reality, it is a fun body horror book perfect for the summer. Do check content warnings on this one!
My dislikes: It was expected to read sex scenes, but it was done in too much disturbing detail; because they are kids, it just wasn’t up my alley. Part 1 felt extremely slow, and I understand why, but I think it could’ve been shorter. It also gets hard to keep track of characters sometimes.
Thank you NetGalley for the digital ARC 💙
March 22, 2024
Solid 4.5 stars for me. This book was disgusting and enthralling. It had me staying up late and waking up early, desperate to know what would happen next but horrified at the same time. The book had a lot of characters, perhaps too many. Still, Felker-Martin did a good job of humanizing them and fleshing them out with all their flaws. The way the dynamics between each character in the large cast were shown was fascinating and realistic. I loved the way she addressed weight and fatphobia. The book suffered from some structural issues, and the main antagonist was completely given away in the prologue, but I still enjoyed it.
The main drawback for me was the epilogue. I felt like tonally it did not fit, and it twisted all the themes of the book and threw them away. Rather than showing the few surviving characters as scarred but still surviving, the epilogue ended with a few paragraphs about the anxiety of not knowing what queer people were safe to be around. This choice is confusing to me because the main cast generally come from a diverse set of identities and while they do hurt each other at times it's not based around identity. It's a novel about queer survival, but the epilogue attempts to reframe it to be about intracommunity conflict and undermines all the good parts of the earlier narrative. Still, I enjoyed most of the book and would recommend it to queer horror fans who aren't scared of the filthier parts of the genre.
Thank you for the ARC
The main drawback for me was the epilogue. I felt like tonally it did not fit, and it twisted all the themes of the book and threw them away. Rather than showing the few surviving characters as scarred but still surviving, the epilogue ended with a few paragraphs about the anxiety of not knowing what queer people were safe to be around. This choice is confusing to me because the main cast generally come from a diverse set of identities and while they do hurt each other at times it's not based around identity. It's a novel about queer survival, but the epilogue attempts to reframe it to be about intracommunity conflict and undermines all the good parts of the earlier narrative. Still, I enjoyed most of the book and would recommend it to queer horror fans who aren't scared of the filthier parts of the genre.
Thank you for the ARC
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 13, 2024
*Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advance reader copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review*.
Cuckoo follows seven queer kids in the summer in 1995. They have been forced by their parents into a remote conversion camp due to being part of the LGBTQ+ community. Sixteen years later the survivors need to put an end to the horror before it’s too late.
This was an intriguing read with difficult topics. The writing was visceral and very graphic. I appreciate the messaging behind this book and what happened to the kids due to them just being their authentic selves. However, I did find it slightly confusing to follow each character because there was just too many. For example, it was hard to remember which characters were who because the transgender characters such as Shelby were referred to as their chosen name (Shelby) but then referred to by their dead name by the camp leaders. That said I would recommend this if you are in the headspace to handle these topics.
Cuckoo follows seven queer kids in the summer in 1995. They have been forced by their parents into a remote conversion camp due to being part of the LGBTQ+ community. Sixteen years later the survivors need to put an end to the horror before it’s too late.
This was an intriguing read with difficult topics. The writing was visceral and very graphic. I appreciate the messaging behind this book and what happened to the kids due to them just being their authentic selves. However, I did find it slightly confusing to follow each character because there was just too many. For example, it was hard to remember which characters were who because the transgender characters such as Shelby were referred to as their chosen name (Shelby) but then referred to by their dead name by the camp leaders. That said I would recommend this if you are in the headspace to handle these topics.
Want to read
May 23, 2023this cover gives me the creeps yeesh
April 3, 2024
First things first, thank you to Goodreads and Tor Publishing for providing me with an Uncorrected ARC of this novel, that is due to hit the shelves next June 2024.
Unfortunately, I can't say I've enjoyed it too much, and my final rating can't go beyond the 2.5 stars. And, yes, three starts would feel way too generous for the amount of enjoyment this crazy ride has actually provided.
This is one of those cases where the concept ends up being far more thrilling, exciting, and entertaining, that the final product itself. Just a matter of execution, then, that probably has a lot to do with this author's writing, certainly not my cup of tea.
And it's not only the language and whole narrative style, which even if it's not appalling it's not great either, way too obscure and somehow repetitive in its imaginary, but mostly the fact that there's a lot that just seems to be there for shock value.
As such, one of my main issues with this novel was the limited development of the characters, who ended up being pretty one dimensional in the fact that they were almost interchangeable and easy to label in a couple of generic categories. I mean, representation is great here, that's for sure, but maybe this story would have benefited from less body horror and more personality building.
Funny fact, I really loved the prologue in this book, and I really thought I was in for a treat... but it turns out I might be one of those readers that enjoy much more the subtle psychological horror stories, than the gruesome physical ones.
In any case, I'm happy this is over, sorry to say.
Unfortunately, I can't say I've enjoyed it too much, and my final rating can't go beyond the 2.5 stars. And, yes, three starts would feel way too generous for the amount of enjoyment this crazy ride has actually provided.
This is one of those cases where the concept ends up being far more thrilling, exciting, and entertaining, that the final product itself. Just a matter of execution, then, that probably has a lot to do with this author's writing, certainly not my cup of tea.
And it's not only the language and whole narrative style, which even if it's not appalling it's not great either, way too obscure and somehow repetitive in its imaginary, but mostly the fact that there's a lot that just seems to be there for shock value.
As such, one of my main issues with this novel was the limited development of the characters, who ended up being pretty one dimensional in the fact that they were almost interchangeable and easy to label in a couple of generic categories. I mean, representation is great here, that's for sure, but maybe this story would have benefited from less body horror and more personality building.
Funny fact, I really loved the prologue in this book, and I really thought I was in for a treat... but it turns out I might be one of those readers that enjoy much more the subtle psychological horror stories, than the gruesome physical ones.
In any case, I'm happy this is over, sorry to say.
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