A young woman undertakes a terrifying journey—and a terrifying transformation—in this genre-blending speculative suspense novel set in South Korea and the US which mixes fantasy, gothic vibes and queer longing, with a shot of feminist body horror.
Fairytales are for children. Until the day we awaken in a place full of monsters, being softly enveloped by the dark.
Nineteen-year-old undocumented immigrant Hee-Jin lies on the floor of her cramped Seoul apartment, listening for footsteps.
But the knock on the door isn’t the police finally coming to deport her to North Korea. Instead, sprawled on the doorstep is a disfigured, bird-like corpse—and it has her eyes. Her younger sister, artist Hee-Young, is meant to be on an art program in America, not dead of a strange overdose.
But in Hee-Young’s pocket is a plane ticket and US passport. Seeing her chance for freedom, Hee-Jin steals her sister’s identity and takes her place, determined to uncover what really happened to her.
But the deeper she dives into the program’s strange workings, the closer she gets to the monstrous secret at its heart.
A page-turner of a mystery filled with gorgeous, creepy Korean folklore and imagery, Aviary, written by critically acclaimed Korean American author Maria Dong, is also a story about power, violence, exploitation—and transformation. And, above all, it's about the choices women make from within a system where all the available options are bad ones.
Aviary is a psychological narrative that guts your core through that chill in your bones and leaves you thinking about it for days. A queer narrative that deconstructs the horrors of societal expectations. A modern gothic with a Korean American perspective that is rich in diction and riveting loud register. Maria Dong’s voice shines brightly through her protagonist that deconstructs the western social norms. The Korean-American perspective is explored through the character’s psyche and her language. This delivers a bloody wrench into the throes of a narrative that experience otherness within the horrors of the human condition. The monster’s around us are hidden in plain sight because they appear to be hidden behind charm and excessive deceit. Hee-Young is determined to discover her truth and that comes with gut curdling shocks that will twist your insides. The sheer detail of the narrative is both descriptive and horrifying at each discovery with the protagonist. There is something riveting about the way writing can both gross you out with its description but intrigue you to discover the horrors of the monster within. There is always something inherently speculative when you discuss the human condition and the way it destroys your body physically and mentally. What does it mean to be stuck in a mystery that drives you through leagues of madness? There is a toll to pay when we discover secrets that were mean to say buried. That is the nature of a Shelley style monster that exists within the human condition. There is this need to question our environment because our intuition is warning us of the wave of horror. That is the predicament our protagonist finds herself in when she takes the US passport to unravel the secrets. The sapphic longing will have you on the edge of your seat wondering when it will happen – if it happens. Truly an eerie novel that shines brightly in the aviary of horrors and wonder. I enjoyed every moment of this narrative and read it in a day. But I have still been thinking about it and anticipate it may be lingering for a hot moment. This is the horror to dive in before the season gets spooky. Take a walk this spring into the dark side of humanity and how we battle those demons around us. Thank you Maria Dong, Severn House, and Netgalley for this advanced digital copy. All opinions are my own.
This is an immensely powerful, thought provoking, terrifying novel. With almost a stream of consciousness writing, Maria Dong's prose is beautiful, haunting, rich with history and folklore. I absolutely loved the inserts of folklore, and tales, as well as the painful, visceral history Koreans have endured. As horrific as this novel is, it's full of powerful topics written in such a mindful way. This book isn't just a mysterious thriller with body horror, it ambitiously covers racism, sexism, cultural appropriation and fetishizing, cult like behavior, and more. I'm finding myself continuously pondering Hee-Jin's situation, stuck in a foreign place, yearning for answers about her sister, it's no wonder she would lose some of herself, while also rediscovering her passions and loves. This is definitely a book that sits with you, one you'll think about late at night, or pouring your morning coffee. Truly impactful.
Hee-Jin and Hee-Young have always dealt with struggles, after their mother dies they don't see eye to eye. Hey-Jin staying behind, while Hee-Young tries to be something more and find herself. Hee-Jin just wants to be the shadow on the wall, to creep through life unseen, undetected. When her sister end up on her doorstep, dead, she wants answers. No, she NEEDS answers. Taking Hee-Young's passport and papers, she boards a plain and goes to Pennsylvania, where her sister was staying. Taking over her identity, and her place in an artistic program, Hee-Young - now Hee-Jin - must navigate this new world, while gathering clues about her sister's death. Finding, and losing parts of herself, she truly transforms anew.
I have no doubt Aviary will be on many "2026 Favourites" lists, and for the first 25% of the book, I was confident it would be on mine as well. I thoroughly enjoyed my introduction to Hee-Jin and her struggles in Korea as an undocumented immigrant. The complexities of her family relationships and her fear of discovery/persecution were riveting. The discovery of her sister's corpse on her doorstep was a compelling (and disturbing) mystery that I was eager to dive into.
Unfortunately, once Hee-Jin makes her way to America and we're introduced to the other characters, things started to drag and my attention drifted. I would have loved to spend more time dealing with the difficulties of travelling internationally without proper documentation, entering America with limited English, the culture shock and terror Hee-Jin surely would have experienced, but this portion of the story is glossed over within a few paragraphs.
Overall, while ambitious and thought-provoking, the final product didn't resonate the way I wanted it to. I think I'll revisit this in the future to see if this was a case of 'right book, wrong timing.' The themes of exploitation, trauma, racism, cults, Korean folklore, and female revenge are ones I typically appreciate exploring, so I wouldn't be surprised if my opinion changes on a second reading.
Thank you to NetGalley and Severn House for the ARC!
Cultural appropriation, fetishization of Asian culture, and sexual abuse through the lens of psychedelic body horror.
Hee-Jin waits in her Seoul apartment for the police to come and deport her to North Korea. She has no papers and no way to live safely in the world. But the knock that comes to the door isn't the police, instead it is her younger sister Hee-Young, who is supposed to be in America participating in an art program, not dead of what appears to be an overdose on her sister's doorstep. In her pocket is a plane ticket and US passport, and Americans can never tell the difference between Asian women anyways, so Hee-Jin decides to steal her sister's identity to figure out what really happened and hopefully find a way to safety.
She arrives in America and agrees to help the head of the art program, pretending to be her sister to keep the program going, also allowing her to investigate what really happened to Hee-Young. But as she becomes deeper involved in the program and its strange rituals, it seems there may be no way to get out of here safely, especially when no one is telling the truth.
This feminist body horror thriller is captivating, terrifying, and thought-provoking. This highly-ambitious book explores issues of exploitation, Western perceptions of non-Western cultures, the vulnerabilities of young girls, and the impact of trauma on decision making. I found it hard to breathe the entire time I was reading.
Maybe this is stupid of me, but I wish there was more explanation of how the central metaphor came to be? In terms of animal-related body horror, this reminded me a lot of Sorry to Bother You, but that at least had an explanation for why that element existed. It kind of took me out of the story to not know WHY or HOW it was happening, but maybe I am just used to genre fiction. I also can't decide if I really appreciated having Callie's perspective or if I wish it was all Hee-Jin, I'll need to reflect more. Either way, I was still invested in the book and the unraveling of this house of horrors.
Note: I would consider this a 3.49, so basically a 3.5 but rounded down to a 3.
Thank you to NetGalley and Severn House for an eARC in exchange for my honest review.
Hee Jin finds herself in a strange and dangerous situation. Her younger sister is dead, dumped at her doorstep. As an undocumented immigrant in South Korea, Hee Jin needs to decide what to do. She could call authorities and face whatever comes her way, or she could assume her sister’s identity and escape to the US. Maybe a new and better life awaits her.
Wow this was a very intense read. Lots of sensitive subjects being touched on, and very timely. The issue on citizenship, being undocumented, racism, rich men doing terrible things because they’re drunk on power and greed. Most of these issues are not new to us, it’s just disappointing we are still battling the same problems.
Hee Jin is a morally ambiguous character, but she does what she has to do to survive, and it’s not something I could ever begin to imagine. She’s tough, she’s resilient, but it comes with so many struggles. A very likable character for sure. Not gonna lie some parts did get a bit confusing but it did not affect the overall plot for me.
If you’re up for a timely, horrific, and rather heartbreaking read, pick this one up.
Thank you to Severn House and NetGalley for the eARC of this novel! All opinions are my own.
Undocumented immigrant Hee-Jin is on her own in Seoul and struggling just to survive. Her sister turns up out of nowhere disfigured and lifeless on her doorstep with a US passport and a plane ticket to America in her pocket. Hee-Jin is desperate enough to take the chance and travel to where her sister came from to find out what happened to her. She has no idea what is waiting for her and what she is about to experience.
I cannot believe how much I enjoyed this creepy, haunting, maddening, thriller of a book. It is a stellar, whole-hearted five star read for me! The commentary on privilege, power, exploitation of the vulnerable, and the utterly powerless nature of being a young woman in this world is crafted beautifully. I definitely recommend this one if you like thrillers or horror or suspense.
Wow. This one touches on so many topics. Trauma, folklore, cultural appropriation/fetishizing, body horror, LGBTQIA, femme rage, oppression, racism, sexism, it’s got it all. I was engaged from the start of the book and clinging on to the words until the very end. Hee-Jin finds her sisters disfigured body at her doorstep, where she is living as an undocumented citizen in South Korea, she’s horrified, but her sister has a passport and a ticket to America that’s about to leave, so she sees this as her chance to be free. But when she arrives in America, she gets wrapped up in the place that “rescued” her sister and “rescues” artists from other countries. The women are being drugged, things get culty VERY FAST. So many twists and turns, I really loved this one. It tugged at my heartstrings in all the ways. Thank you NetGalley and Severn House for the ARC
Holy smokes. Thank you to NetGalley and Severn House for the ARC.
This was a wild ride. Like you know something wildly fricked up is taking place, but then it all clicks together. My jaw hit the floor. My pewter heart cracked.
Part feminist body horror, part thriller: Aviary does not disappoint. It’s not ever clear what is real and what is hallucination, but I came away from this feeling like this is one of those books that alters you a little bit. I can tell I’ll be mulling this over for a long time post read.
There are moments where I felt asked to question how i delineate good and evil. What makes a person a monster? Experience or something innate? Exploitation sits at the center of this narrative almost as uncomfortably as the large glass heart above Petite Sea House.
2,5⭐️ rounded up. I really appreciate how ambitious the author was with this genre-blending novel, but I’m afraid it was a bit too ambitious. There was just a little bit too much of everything: too many (changes in) povs, too many jumps in time, too many themes, too crazy plottwists. And it really did work for me until the second part of the book, when I started to get confused and lose my interest. Also I felt the pacing was off: some parts were dragging and the end flew by really quickly.
Such a shame as I had really high hopes for this book, because I’m usually a sucker for horror, cults, Korean fiction and female revenge.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Severn House for this arc!
This was a slowburn filled with intriguing Korean folklore and body horror. I wasn't immediately hooked, especially with the POV switches, but I was curious about the mystery and the female characters especially. Dong does a great job meshing genre elements as we followed Hee-jin to America to find out what happened to her sister. It touches on a lot of traumas and abusive systems affecting young women of color with very strong cult vibes. A unique read for sure! Thanks to Severn House and Netgalley for the ARC.