(Rounded from 3.5)
Nick Cutter definitely has a skill for getting under your skin, doesn’t he? This fast-paced, coming-of-age body horror will keep you squirming on the edge of your seat. The world-building and atmosphere are tangible, giving a great experience of late teenage awkwardness from someone sitting as far away from the cool kids’ table as possible. The main character feels complicated and genuine, and the constant flip-flopping, or tug-of-war, which comprises her emotional journey feels both earned and relatable. And the horror set pieces, which are well spaced throughout the story, are violent and gooey, visceral and upsetting. The writing is strong and propulsive too, combining first-person narration with text messages and voice mails when we follow our main character, and then a close third-person when we follow an ancillary character, the main (human) antagonist. We spend far more time with the MC than not, but this movement back and forth does a good job at keeping you engaged and really creating a shape to the story.
All that well-earned praise out of the way, I did experience a few stumbles with this book. I enjoyed the “treasure hunt,” or cat-and-mouse, quality of the majority of the book, our MC following an evolving trail of breadcrumbs to reach the climactic events. But the more I thought about it, it is hard to really reconcile why Charity, the titular Queen, would send her friend on this kind of hunt. I understand the need for our MC, Margaret, to bear witness. The heady and confusing amalgamation of attraction and repulsion, desiring validation and also revenge, all of that makes sense and it fits with the story… but this whole treasure hunt situation just feels contrived. I have no problem suspending disbelief for regarding the scientific and horrific elements of the story, but in part suspending that disbelief depends on all of the other scaffolding to be not just solid but impregnable. This narrative device, while it was fun and did keep the story moving, didn’t feel like it was grounded in any genuine or understandable motivation. Basically, it felt like something that came from the author not the character, and that isn’t an experience I generally want when reading, even when that narrative device is used to good effect in terms of pacing and unraveling the story’s mysteries. Speaking of pacing, I did think it was really strong. The prologue starts with a great bit of terror to get you hooked, then goes back a day so you have a foreboding knowledge of what is to come as you go through the more mundane actions of the story. And right when the story feels like it may be getting a little soft we switch to the POV of a new character and get a horrific flashback that feeds our need for the grotesque. Like this he does a great job at inserting little bits of violence and mayhem throughout the story, never giving us a chance to get bored, with horrific scenes that are disturbing and will make you skin crawl. However, with that said, going back to that original flashback, which serves as our (human) antagonist’s origin story… yeah, I’m not buying it. I mean, I buy that scene, that event, in all its upsetting detail. But how that trauma lead to his eventual obsession and the poisonous, deadly fruit it wrought? It just feels like a stretch, one I had a hard time making. It might have worked for me if there was more connecting the trauma to his eventual obsession, but that connective tissue was lost, and what is left made it really hard for me to ground his actions or motivations in any meaningful way, which just kept him at a distance for me, which just let some of the seams of the story show when they should have been hidden. And as long as I am kvetching, the last section before the Epilogue, which was more than 10% of the book’s length, felt like a giant distraction. The whole thing is written as an Esquire article that is exploring the events of the book, and it totally takes us away from the perspective of the characters that we cared about. Instead, it has a middle-aged male journalist, clearly standing in for Cutter himself, telling us how the whole events of the book make him feel, somewhat bluntly hitting us over the head with some of the themes and ideas the book itself is exploring. It feels like Cutter maybe didn’t trust us to see the nuance in his story, and he wanted to make sure we realized there was a lot more grey than black and white? I don’t know. It does give some follow-up information, a kind of high-level narration/summarization, but I would have loved for that to have come in Margaret’s voice. I appreciate what having an outsider to the events brought to it, an exploration of how a single story can infest a country’s collective attention span, can have a far larger blast radius than it might seem at first. There is a kind of honesty to what the after-effects of this horror story might look like in terms of government response and public safety/obsession, which I enjoyed. I just think I would have enjoyed it all more if it was time spent with our main character, so we could see her navigating the after-effects, her dealing with these multiple traumas, while also processing how the world outside of her was interpreting events. Instead of telling her story it felt like she became a specimen, pinned to a board to dissect, which felt contradictory to the intimacy of the rest of the journey.
That seems like a lot of complaining, especially when compared to how fun this story is. Because the truth of it is that it is a fun, brutal story that does a great job balancing graphic horror with genuine emotion. The writing is clear, direct, and effective, and the pacing is skillful and energetic. From a bird’s eye view the story is not completely original, something Cutter himself points out in his Acknowledgments, but it never feels derivative. Instead, it feels like a fresh take on the trials and tribulations of a coming-of-age story, just set against the backdrop of genetically modified monstrosities and Cronenberg-ian body horror. It is a fun, quick read that keeps you invested and a little grossed out the whole time, and it is definitely worth picking up.
I want to thank the author, the publisher Gallery Books, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.