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It has been said that, “Despite the fact that it won the World Fantasy Award, Koko contains only minimal nods towards the fantastic, and was not published as a Horror novel either. But nevertheless, this tour de force – this thriller about Vietnam veterans and a serial killer is a horror novel if we use the word to mean the emotion that stows aboard books of any genre, and even aboard mainstream fiction, rather than the definition of ‘books with blood and guts’ (http://www.infinityplus.co.uk/nonfiction/intstraub.htm).
I somewhat agree. I am also of the belief that this novel is one of the most boring selections I have read in recent memory. It screamed out that Straub was trying hard to write about a war he didn’t participate or believe in. I really can’t believe I finished the novel; I kept hoping that it would get better, I guess—and it never did.
As far as “horror” goes, the only horror I felt was at the end of the novel, when, with dawning horror, I came to the realization that the whole experience of reading Koko was one grand exercise in futility. I want my time back, I thought. Actually, I wanted to erase the whole reaading experience from my mind. The novel was so dreadful to read, in fact, that it almost made me want to never read another novel again. (Is that too harsh?) Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic, but I do know that it took me over four months to complete the thing, a definite anomaly for such a voracious reader such as myself.
The novel did have a few positive attributes, however. I must credit Mr. Straub for his superb characterization skills: he really did flesh out believable characters in Koko with aplomb. There just wasn’t a point to them, and that was the problem. The story just wasn’t plausible and realistic. In effect, the novel was trapped in a void, a vacuum, with no point and no escape.
Koko did not pertain to anything remotely worth caring about, and this was what made the novel so disappointing. In the end, I agree with the Kirkus Review: “Although sharply limned, the characters remain static (and Kokoan unsatisfactory shadow) until the end; the plot meanders and the twists hold no punch, leaching suspense; the overriding mood of gloom and doom drags the whole effort down. In all, then, an honorable, mighty failure”.
I somewhat agree. I am also of the belief that this novel is one of the most boring selections I have read in recent memory. It screamed out that Straub was trying hard to write about a war he didn’t participate or believe in. I really can’t believe I finished the novel; I kept hoping that it would get better, I guess—and it never did.
As far as “horror” goes, the only horror I felt was at the end of the novel, when, with dawning horror, I came to the realization that the whole experience of reading Koko was one grand exercise in futility. I want my time back, I thought. Actually, I wanted to erase the whole reaading experience from my mind. The novel was so dreadful to read, in fact, that it almost made me want to never read another novel again. (Is that too harsh?) Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic, but I do know that it took me over four months to complete the thing, a definite anomaly for such a voracious reader such as myself.
The novel did have a few positive attributes, however. I must credit Mr. Straub for his superb characterization skills: he really did flesh out believable characters in Koko with aplomb. There just wasn’t a point to them, and that was the problem. The story just wasn’t plausible and realistic. In effect, the novel was trapped in a void, a vacuum, with no point and no escape.
Koko did not pertain to anything remotely worth caring about, and this was what made the novel so disappointing. In the end, I agree with the Kirkus Review: “Although sharply limned, the characters remain static (and Kokoan unsatisfactory shadow) until the end; the plot meanders and the twists hold no punch, leaching suspense; the overriding mood of gloom and doom drags the whole effort down. In all, then, an honorable, mighty failure”.