Despite my recent tendencies to avoid newer releases at their release, You Weren’t Meant to be Human, by Andrew Joseph White, had an idea that was a little too tantalizing to pass up. However, I feel I came away from it with more mixed feelings than I expected, especially since I so easily slipped into Crane’s story.
If you’re at all curious about this story and have concerns about the content, Andrew Joseph White has a pretty extensive list of content warnings, so I definitely recommend checking it out. This book has a lot of dark stuff in it, so you should be warned.
Crane is finally in a place where he feels he can transition. Unfortunately, that means giving up most of the rest of his agency to the worms and flies that have been popping up in deep hollows of Appalachia. He finally gets to feel like a man in the presence of Levi, an ex-marine and enforcer for Crane’s hive. It’s not long before the solace in his ability to just exist is shattered by the fact that he’s pregnant with Levi’s child, and the hive wants it to be born. Every chance at escape ends in disaster, and Levi is locked away to gestate with the child. But Crane doesn’t want it and starts to push against the boundaries that have killed others before him, pushing the tensions within the hive to the brink.
I won’t lie, one of the big draws for the story for me was the transmasculine protagonist and the story being centered around an unwanted pregnancy in a world hostile to such thoughts and actions. We live in a time where abortion rights are under siege, with some major breaches in the national law. It’s not a future hard to see coming down the pipe. Horror is a great medium to explore this not-so-distant reality because it can actively engage with the anxiety of it. Meant to be Human definitely dives into this and all the ooey gooey-ness of the body, delivering several nauseating gut punches through the story. It’s one of the highlights of the story as Crane wrestles with the sickening feeling of being used, while learning about all of the changes his body is going through to accommodate the pregnancy after twenty months of hormonal therapy.
With that, this book is a largely body horror-driven affair, another reason I felt drawn to the title. I am fascinated by how people can dive into the “you’re an accidentally conscious being trapped in a meat bag without your consent,” in all the different ways it’s possible. It gets gross, but I mean, have you ever stopped to think about your body? Feel the blood pulse in your ears, realize your heart just keeps squishing blood through fleshy veins to deliver oxygen to various collections of cells tasked to make it go? Or what it’s like to grow another human inside you, whether that is something you chose to do or have it forced upon you? What about how to accomplish an abortion at home, or home births? These are all things that are described in vivid detail within Meant To Be Human. And White is incredibly good when it comes to the gory details. It is a visceral book, and while it didn’t make my stomach turn all that much, I’m a little desensitized; there were a few particularly standout moments that really brought home the gory body horror elements I came for.
One critique I have of the extremity, though, is that sometimes it just feels overwhelming. Not in the sense of “wow, this is disgusting,” but in a “what is this serving?” Some scenes felt designed to gross you out and unnerve you just because they could. Obviously, one’s mileage will vary, but for me personally, I think some of the desensitization to this kind of stuff comes from its lack of narrative punch. It didn’t turn me off necessarily, I just found some of it to be a little boring at times. I don’t need all of the elements to thematically line up. I think you can have one-offs scattered throughout that keep the reader on their toes for what to expect, to keep things fresh. The “aren’t I fucked in the head,” intrusive thoughts being the medium through which that is delivered just wore thin for me.
Which is a little unfortunate because I think Meant To Be Human’s strength is the first-person perspective, stuck with Crane’s thoughts. Because Crane is someone who is struggling with who they are, how they see themselves, and whether or not they deserve more. Crane craves direction, to have their agency removed so that they can merely exist. They are in a deeply abusive relationship with an older man who takes Crane’s silence as a form of consent. He views the abuse he receives from Levi as a fitting reward for his crimes of being a “bad person.” It’s a sort of flagellation that gives Crane some odd sense of self and affirmation, both as a trans man and as a “bad person.” The ability to suffer and find enjoyment in that suffering leads to one of Crane’s needs to “take it like a man.” This relationship was pivotal to the book for me because of just how goddamned messy it was, and how Crane navigated the contradictions within it compelled me to keep reading. I wish there was a little more to it, as they are less in each other’s presence as the story progresses, but it felt like a deeper dive there could have heightened the contradictions of feeling recognized for who you are, coupled with a loss of agency. Something the book is definitely about, it just feels like it could have been stronger. One of the stronger parts of this relationship, too, is just how much it affects Crane’s view of themselves, as a man. It gives him time to reflect on his past and separate himself from Sophie, the young girl who used to have Crane’s body. This being Crane’s understanding of his transition, it opened space for the “bad person” he identifies as to solidify and replace the girl his family was proud of.
I think more interaction between them might have made the hive aspect of the novel a little more than just a background feature. I know that’s a weird thing to say given that the hive is the one forcing Levi through the pregnancy, but it just sort of didn’t have anything to do other than be weird, gross, and aggressive about Crane having the baby. It’s left very open to interpretation about what the hive really symbolizes, a point in the book’s favor, but it feels almost a little too open-ended for it to pack a punch for me. The setting of the book implies that the federal government is just sort of there, making sure the draconian laws in place are being followed, and the hives are a kind of safe haven for the disaffected of society who have no place to go. In order to be inducted into a hive, you have to kill and separate yourself from the bad situation you’re in, and then pledge yourself to them as they work to protect you. But there is never really any evidence that the hive does anything other than provide a specific place for those disaffected to congregate. Sure, it chooses people that can offer that protection, such as Levi’s background in the military, but there didn’t seem to be anything on offer besides recognition before the rug is pulled on signing the contract that you are its thing, its toy. Again, I think that is part of the point, that it doesn’t offer anything beyond the things Crane is looking for. It just feels like a deal with the devil where he gets your soul, and he moans your name into your ear one time. The pieces feel there, it just wasn’t the focus of the book, and that can definitely be a me thing.
My final critique is that this is being marketed as an adult book, and don’t get me wrong – there are a lot of adult themes, and a lot of Adult Content. But I feel like it sort of tramples the new adult audience that might resonate more with Crane’s position. He’s in his early twenties, in a totally new context, and lost in the maelstrom of shame and desire that comes with new sexual realities. It deals with Crane learning to accept who he is as a man and a human being as he deals with his burgeoning sexuality. The oppressive nature of those around him is a good atmosphere, but there isn’t a lot of complexity beyond his relationship with Levi. All I’m saying is that the “Adult” marketing feels more based on the content, and not the approach to it and the themes.
All in all, I liked You Weren’t Meant to be Human, but I didn’t fall in love with it. Crane’s self-flagellation to cope with his own negative labeling was visceral and relatable, even if hyperbolic in the way horror portrays it. The dynamics between him and Levi were compelling, and I wanted more of it. And the ending is genuinely insane, in a good way, because it revels in its transgressive nature through an inhuman act of pure human will to reclaim agency. I applaud it even as part of me is still reeling from it. If you want a bloody, disgusting, and dizzying body horror experience, then You Weren’t Meant to be Human, by Andrew Joseph White, is the book you should pick up and discuss.
Rating: You Weren’t Meant To Be Human – Get the pesticide, and don’t let the worms bite.
-Alex
