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A review by jolietjane
Cows by Matthew Stokoe
There’s this delicate balance to extreme horror for me. Probably not for most people, but for me. It’s a genre that I enjoy quite a bit, but I struggle with the edginess of it all. Sometimes, a book can be edgy and still pretty profound. It might have something to say, interesting characters, or just touch a nerve in a way that I haven’t had touch before.
Cows reminds me of some thing that I would’ve written when I was 14 at my edgiest. It’s just really hard, just desperate to make you grossed out or put off, while leaving 1 million different potholes in its wake. it’s to be trippy and weird, and it’s too outlandish to be treated like a regular horror story.
I did drop the book. I just didn’t like it very much and it’s desperation to make you as grossed out as possible made it significantly less uncomfortable, and more irritating.
Cows reminds me of some thing that I would’ve written when I was 14 at my edgiest. It’s just really hard, just desperate to make you grossed out or put off, while leaving 1 million different potholes in its wake. it’s to be trippy and weird, and it’s too outlandish to be treated like a regular horror story.
I did drop the book. I just didn’t like it very much and it’s desperation to make you as grossed out as possible made it significantly less uncomfortable, and more irritating.