Manhunt, by Gretchen Felker-Martin

This review contains spoilers

###

It normally doesn’t take me just over two weeks to read a 300 page novel. But Manhunt was a heavy, bleak read, and I found myself needing absolute focus to read it. Even though it was a heavy read, I’m glad I sat down with it.

I first heard of Manhunt because Gretchen was talking about the backlash she’d received from it. I read the synopsis and immediately pre-ordered. I adore horror lit, and while post apocalyptic horror might not be my usual trope of choice, I was totally willing to branch out for good queer horror.

What I didn’t expect was how much this book would make me cry.

###

While my gender is somewhat fluid, I mostly describe myself as “agender/non-binary butch.” Parts of Manhunt hit me right in the complex feelings I have about my gender and queerness. It covered the discourse that’s so prolific in many online queer spaces. The worry that you (or someone close to you) is “problematic,” for the smallest things.

I laugh-cried at the narrative mention of what made someone “problematic,” because I’ve been witness to those same online discussions. Then I actually cried at the scene where Beth was kicked out of her “safe space” apartment because her roommates saw her as a ticking testosterone time bomb.

Manhunt brought up a lot of feelings about being out vs being closeted. Even as I “pass” as my “correct” gender most of the time, I still get “Do you need help…miss…? Uh, sir…?” at the local grocery when someone sees me and my white cane. Confusing people beings a strange mix of gender euphoria and fear. Manhunt put those feelings into words, that fear of “what if they react badly? Violently?” Even at my most femme presenting days, people still confuse my pronouns.

Speaking of my white cane (I’m blind), seeing disabled characters in this book who were part of the resistance got me all teary again. It’s so rare to see disabled characters in sci-fi, let alone playing a major role in the story. Seeing disability get casually mentioned as “oh, yeah, it’s a thing in this world,” made me happy in a way that able bodied people wouldn't get.

###

The characters in this book are fantastic. They’re deeply flawed, yes, but they’re real in a way that made me stick with them. Even though, at times, I wanted to yell at them to run, to try and live on their own.

I fell in love with Indi as soon as it was mentioned she was wearing a Cannibal Corpse t-shirt. As I got to know her more, the more I sympathized with her and loved her. She ended up being one of my favorite characters in the novel.

Beth and Fran were fantastic. I could related to both of them, especially to Fran’s feelings of “I’m fake.”

There are so many feelings that other queer people can related to woven into this story. So many little moments that made me cry. Like when Fran is reflecting on how her father didn’t make the blueberry pancakes for her, he made them for his “son.”

The villains in this story are just as well written as the heroes are. They’re complex characters in their own rights.

Having said that, I still wanted to punch them all. I had zero sympathy for Ramona, even though her character arc was a weirdly fascinating one. I loved the scene where it was revealed she was still alive, and Beth said “No. No forgiveness here.”

I may have hugged my kindle at that scene.

###

It’s a relief, really, to read queer people in something besides a YA coming-of-age romance. Queer people are often forgotten in other genres, but especially in horror. There’s also an unspoken pressure in the world of queer writing. Your stories must be Nice and Wholesome to get on the lists of Best Queer Literature.

This book is…not that. (Nor is my own writing, or the writings of many of my friends.)

There are some brief moments of laughter in this book. I didn’t expect to inhale my coffee at the line “the Knights of J.K. Rowling,” but I did. I also cheered at the campfire discussion of what happened to said author when the plague hit.

Overall, I give Manhunt 5/5. It’s a book that’s going to stay with me for a long time. It’s brutally violent, and there’s a lot of gore, but I’m so glad I read it.