Manhunt is exactly the kind of vital and visceral horror that we need from the genre right now. Utterly unflinching, the novel is unafraid to explore themes of fascism and trauma, whilst holding up a deeply uncomfortable mirror to the increasingly transphobic society of the US and the UK. Felker-Martin has written a modern horror classic, and I look forward to whatever she writes next. “Fran had grown up with money, back when money stil meant something, and she had that middle-class brain disease that makes people think calamities can be controlled. It had been that way since they were kids. Beth knew better. No matter how prepared you were, some things just rolled over you in a hot, sticky black tide and you were lucky if they left you standing.” “Community is when you never let go of each other. Not even after you’re gone.” Gretchen Felker-Martin’s Manhunt (2022) is an incredible and urgent work of horror fiction. It is both a grisly splatterpunk apocalypse tale and an excoriating exploration of transphobia and fascism. Just as Alison Rumfitt’s Tell Me I’m Worthless (2021) unflinchingly dissects the links between transphobia and fascism in the UK, so Felker-Martin’s novel does for the US. Felker-Martin brilliantly engages with the tired trope of the gender apocalypse from a trans perspective, centring the people those books tend to erase or denigrate. Manhunt is thus able to dissect the legacy of gendered violence whilst outright rejecting the restrictive notions of a gender binary. By centring trans characters who are complex and messy human beings, the novel is able to explore the idea of trans and queer communities and their social complexities. On top of that, Manhunt is an excellent horror novel, one that for all its grisly goriness never treats its violence as trivial and is deeply invested in exploring the trauma that follows in its wake on both the perpetrators and victims. Felker-Martin has written a modern classic, an essential work of horror that shows just how much the genre can achieve. Beth and Fran are two trans women who, following an apocalyptic event that has turned all men into feral, flesh-eating creatures devoid of humanity or reason, travel across the New England coast hunting feral men. Following the collapse of civilisation, it turns out the best source of oestrogen is from harvesting feral men’s testicles. Robbie is a trans man who has survived by his gun and his wits, wary of other people after a horrific event in his past. Brought together when Robbie helps Beth and Fran escape a deadly ambush, the three of them find themselves navigating post-apocalyptic America together. On the run from militarised TERFs who want to eradicate all trans people, Beth, Fran and Robbie have to deal with the insane daughter of a billionaire and her cult-like bunker community and their complex feelings for each other, as they try to find home and community in a ravaged world. Manhunt is in direct conversation with all those gender apocalypse novels that imagine a future where one of the sexes has been eradicated. Many of those texts tend to reinforce ideas of biological essentialism, with all men or all women wiped out, and trans people either ignored entirely or lumped in with their assigned gender at birth. Felker-Martin takes this premise and explores the lives of trans characters in this world, disrupting the gender essentialism of many of these texts. Manhunt acknowledges the full complexity of gender, making space for trans men like Robbie, trans women like Beth and Fran who have to find other solutions to their hormones no longer being attainable through the normal channels, and genderqueer people. The apocalyptic disease that turns men into slobbering animals does not simplify gender, rather it serves to highlight all the ways in which people do not conform to a simple gender binary. Felker-Martin explores the new ways in which queer communities come together under times of intense pressure, and while it is never easy for her characters, there are places where they are able to find and become part of a vibrant, caring community that exists in spite of the apocalypse. Of course, there are those who would rather gender was a simple binary, and these people are explicitly the villains in Felker-Martin’s novel. She effectively shows the fascism inherent in TERF ideology through her exploration of the militaristic TERF organisations that take over large parts of the East Coast and attempt to murder all trans people and anyone who cares for them or shelters them. Manhunt spends a reasonable amount of time with Ramona, a commander in the Maryland Womyn’s Legion who is attracted to trans women but lacks the moral strength or courage to stand up to her superiors. Through her and Teach, the leader of the Maryland Womyn’s Legion, we get a thorough exploration of the self-loathing and denial that form the bedrock of much fascism, and the utter moral decrepitude of TERFism. Felker-Martin shows us a world in which the TERFs actually have what they want – no longer bound by the restrictions of society, they can set up their ghastly little dictatorships and murder with impunity. The novel is, quite rightly, utterly unforgiving towards them. Beth, Fran and Robbie are the main viewpoint characters, and Felker-Martin draws each of them with precision, showing us their strengths and weaknesses in uncomfortable detail. All three characters have responded to the apocalypse differently, based on the differing levels of privilege that shape their world. Fran comes from a background with money, and can easily pass as a cis woman, whilst Beth is working class, and as a “brick” she knows she will never be mistaken for a cis woman. Robbie’s experience as a trans man equally shape his perspective. All three suffer from gender dysphoria, and have experienced transphobia in various guises throughout their lives. As trans women, Beth and Fran were cast out from their queer community at the beginning of the apocalypse for fear that they would become feral like the cis men around them. Felker-Martin shows us how much safety is worth in unsafe times, with Fran having to decide if she prioritises the safety of the bunker over Beth’s wellbeing. Felker-Martin’s characters are believable in their humanity and messiness, and don’t always make the decisions that we want them to, but this makes them feel all the more real. Manhunt is striking in its use of violence. The novel revels in splatterpunk gore, with some truly stomach-churning moments, but at the same time, Felker-Martin never trivialises violence. Characters take a long time to heal from their wounds, and carry their scars and their injuries with them. More importantly, they carry the psychological scars as well – everyone in the apocalypse is broken to some degree thanks to the horrendous violence they have experienced and perpetrated in order to survive, and violence in Felker-Martin’s novel always comes with a price for both those who commit it and those who experience it. The novel acknowledges the trauma inherent in its characters’ experiences, and treats that as a part of their psychological makeup. Thus, for all that it is a violent and gory book, Manhunt is profoundly empathetic and thoughtful in how it explores violence. Manhunt is exactly the kind of vital and visceral horror that we need from the genre right now. Utterly unflinching, the novel is unafraid to explore themes of fascism and trauma, whilst holding up a deeply uncomfortable mirror to the increasingly transphobic society of the US and the UK. Felker-Martin has written a modern horror classic, and I look forward to whatever she writes next. Manhunt |
Archives
May 2023
|

RSS Feed