You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.
Scan barcode
A review by livinliterary
Cuckoo by Gretchen Felker-Martin
dark
emotional
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Trigger Warnings: Graphic violence, body horror, sexual assault, transphobia, homophobia, conversion therapy, mutilation, child abuse, identity erasure, mind control, and extreme psychological manipulation.
Gretchen Felker-Martin's Cuckoo is a deeply unsettling and visceral horror that pushes boundaries and forces readers into the uncomfortable, cringey, and raw emotions it invokes. It's not for the faint of heart—99% of the time, this book will make you feel trapped in a world of relentless unease, anger, and pain. The story explores themes of identity, control, and survival in a hostile environment where safety is a lie and existence itself becomes a nightmare.
The plot kicks off strong, launching into chaos right from the start as Felix, Gabriel, Joanna, John, Malcolm, Nadine, and Shelby—a diverse group of queer teenagers—are sent to Camp Resolution, a desert conversion camp run by a religious organization. While they expect the usual horrors associated with such places, the camp hides far worse secrets. There's something in the desert, a malevolent force that consumes not just their bodies but also their identities, stripping them of everything that makes them who they are. Graduates of the camp return home changed, but not in the way you'd expect—there's something else entirely inhabiting their shells.
Felker-Martin doesn't hold back. The novel is brutal, and the horror isn't just physical; it's existential. The characters are subject to the worst kinds of abuse, both external and internal. Felker-Martin masterfully weaves body horror with psychological terror, creating a fever dream that clings to you long after you finish reading.
One of the strengths of *Cuckoo* is its cast of characters. The representation is fantastic, offering a diverse queer group with multiple points of view, and the audiobook format with full-cast narration works particularly well in setting each voice apart. However, I did find some confusion due to the trans characters being referred to by both their deadnames and chosen names. While this was likely intentional to highlight their struggles with identity and the erasure they face at the camp, it added a layer of disorientation in an already chaotic narrative.
That said, the pacing of the story felt uneven. The beginning starts off slowly, almost like a simmer before the inevitable explosion, which creates a steady sense of dread. But as the plot unfolds, particularly toward the end, it feels like everything speeds up too much. The lead-up to the final events, while intense, could have benefited from more time to breathe. The climax arrives quickly, and I found myself wishing the tension had been drawn out a little longer to really drive home the horrifying culmination.
Despite the pacing issues, Cuckoo is an amazing story that grips you with its grotesque intensity. It feels like you're constantly holding your breath, anticipating the next twist or shock. The imagery is twisted and nightmarish, leaving you feeling unsettled for the entire journey.
If you're looking for a book that will challenge your limits, leave you gasping, and force you to confront the darkest parts of the human psyche, Cuckoo is that book. It's not an easy read, and it certainly won’t be for everyone, but it’s a visceral, terrifying experience that lingers long after the final page.
Gretchen Felker-Martin's Cuckoo is a deeply unsettling and visceral horror that pushes boundaries and forces readers into the uncomfortable, cringey, and raw emotions it invokes. It's not for the faint of heart—99% of the time, this book will make you feel trapped in a world of relentless unease, anger, and pain. The story explores themes of identity, control, and survival in a hostile environment where safety is a lie and existence itself becomes a nightmare.
The plot kicks off strong, launching into chaos right from the start as Felix, Gabriel, Joanna, John, Malcolm, Nadine, and Shelby—a diverse group of queer teenagers—are sent to Camp Resolution, a desert conversion camp run by a religious organization. While they expect the usual horrors associated with such places, the camp hides far worse secrets. There's something in the desert, a malevolent force that consumes not just their bodies but also their identities, stripping them of everything that makes them who they are. Graduates of the camp return home changed, but not in the way you'd expect—there's something else entirely inhabiting their shells.
Felker-Martin doesn't hold back. The novel is brutal, and the horror isn't just physical; it's existential. The characters are subject to the worst kinds of abuse, both external and internal. Felker-Martin masterfully weaves body horror with psychological terror, creating a fever dream that clings to you long after you finish reading.
One of the strengths of *Cuckoo* is its cast of characters. The representation is fantastic, offering a diverse queer group with multiple points of view, and the audiobook format with full-cast narration works particularly well in setting each voice apart. However, I did find some confusion due to the trans characters being referred to by both their deadnames and chosen names. While this was likely intentional to highlight their struggles with identity and the erasure they face at the camp, it added a layer of disorientation in an already chaotic narrative.
That said, the pacing of the story felt uneven. The beginning starts off slowly, almost like a simmer before the inevitable explosion, which creates a steady sense of dread. But as the plot unfolds, particularly toward the end, it feels like everything speeds up too much. The lead-up to the final events, while intense, could have benefited from more time to breathe. The climax arrives quickly, and I found myself wishing the tension had been drawn out a little longer to really drive home the horrifying culmination.
Despite the pacing issues, Cuckoo is an amazing story that grips you with its grotesque intensity. It feels like you're constantly holding your breath, anticipating the next twist or shock. The imagery is twisted and nightmarish, leaving you feeling unsettled for the entire journey.
If you're looking for a book that will challenge your limits, leave you gasping, and force you to confront the darkest parts of the human psyche, Cuckoo is that book. It's not an easy read, and it certainly won’t be for everyone, but it’s a visceral, terrifying experience that lingers long after the final page.