⋙ [PDF] Cows Matthew Stokoe 9781840680058 Books

Cows Matthew Stokoe 9781840680058 Books

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Cows Matthew Stokoe 9781840680058 Books

“Cows” by Matthew Stokoe

I’m a writer, I’ve spent my lifetime reading but I’ve never run across a book like this. It’s a writer’s hope that that their proficiency as a writer is capable of drawing the reader into their world in a seamless fashion. Convinces them, for a single moment in time, to give up their day-to-day life, to indulge themselves in the hypnotic spell being cast for them.

Stokoe’s writing reminded me of Patrick Susskind’s “Perfume,” another book about a young man spawned by a woman who could have been the template for Stokoe’s “Hagbeast.” Like “Cows,” “Perfume” puts you inside the labyrinthine depths of his anti-hero’s thoughts. Never once does Susskind depart from a narrative that is as seductive as the scent of perfumes at which he is adept at identifying. The writing is magical and transports the reader along into his twisted world. I struggle to elaborate on what I mean by magical. (1) You have to really love the written word and be seduced by the writer’s artfulness, by what amounts to evocative poetry. (2) You must have an open mind, be nonjudgemental, be willing to be carried along on the far ranging tide of the writer’s imagination.

So it is with “Cows.” One reviewer on Amazon bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t “unread” Stokoe’s book. It is gruesome, it is brutal, it is bloody and perverted and not for the faint of heart. There are episodes of bestiality performed by men caught up in the hideous world of a slaughterhouse. Their sexual gratification, described as never before, is just a perk for the job they have to do.

The reader is caught up in the dark labyrinth of Steven’s mind and Stokoe never lets up. And yet there is something heroic there, like a Greek tragedy, in his search to save his lost soul and fight his way into the sunlight that has always eluded him.

This is the work of someone who knows intimately what it takes to reach that point of liberation, of validation for one’s existence. Written with razor-sharp insights and perfect word choices, you are solidly rooting for Steven. Even the visceral details—like sharing a meal of his own excrement with his mother—is so graphically vivid and so totally gag-inducing but it perfectly captures the horrors of life with “the Hagbeast.”

So maybe caveat emptor. And one last thought, somewhere lurking in the story is the heart of a man who just might be a vegetarian.


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Cows Matthew Stokoe 9781840680058 Books Reviews

You can't read this book, refute the concepts as unrealistic, and enjoy. If you can suspend reality, accepts what Stokoe says as truth, then you might like this story. Oh, and if you're squeamish, don't read this - you won't make it half way.

Stokoe illustrates various mental abnormalities by jacking the manifestation of each tenfold. Each character is the tuned up embodiment of some twisted mental aberration and the interaction between characters compliments or exasperates the malady. None of the relationships in this book progress in a positive direction. Rather, its a degenerative progression to extreme human depravity.

This book disgusted me, I won't ever tell anyone that I read it, and I thought about it everyday for about 3 weeks.
At the center of this story is a man who has never known love or nurturing. Life is ugly a beast to be fought and hidden from. The real world resides in the light of television, where lives are organized and people know exactly what to do. This book offers up a broken soul who cannot cope with the outside world. When he is introduced to brutality through his job in a slaughterhouse, he senses a change in his directionless existence. Through blood there is control. Through broken bones and body orifices there lies power. This novel is hideous in its depravity and beautiful in its understanding of what it means to have nothing left to lose. The writing is impeccable, and if you can stomach the journey, it will take you to some very dark places. The herd is waiting.
I guess when I saw that many people were unable to stomach this book, I took it as a challenge. I finished it, but I'm afraid it will stay burned in my mind for a long time.

I'm not a violent person by any means, but I do watch a lot of horror movies with my husband and I've found myself becoming desensitized to a lot of horrific things through the years. I feel like the constant barrage of negative news and terror attacks in the years following 9/11 have added to this desensitization as we collectively become a little numb as a means of self-preservation.

Cows was the first thing in a long time that truly repulsed me. I really don't know how to rate it, so I settled on 3. It was very readable in that it was well-written and easily to follow, but even that sounds like a terrible thing to say. It's vulgar, disgusting, offensive, vile. It makes me wonder about the mind of the author and how his wife sleeps next to him at night. It's set a whole new bar for horror/shock entertainment, and not one I'm eager to intentionally match.

It's the novel equivalent to A Serbian Film -- simply for the fact that it's not something you can (nor should you) easily talk about with anyone else. It's not a book you describe to someone on the train. It's not a book club book. I had a difficult time discussing it with my husband, and that was the early chapters. I'm a lady, for goodness sakes!

It's the most disturbing and depraved thing I've ever read...and it was fascinating.
Like Stephen King, or De Sade, there is just enough normal here to make the deranged stand out. The hero(?) wants to lead an Ozzie and Harriet TV family life. His actual life is that of an undeveloped pariah with an insane mother. He gets a job in a slaughter house where he meets an even more disturbed man who introduces him to a world of perversion, bestiality, murder, and other social no-nos. Like DeSade, Stokoe has no moral or social message. He uses the life of the pariah to hang every aberration he can imagine on. The only justification for the acts is the pleasure and power drunk emotions that they give him. The only compassion shown is for his crippled dog, who is appropriately named "Dog".

This book will not appeal to most readers. Like DeSade's 120 Days of sodom, it provides a look into a mind of a psychopath. If you want to know what made Ed Gein or Jeffrey Dahmer tick, this book is for you.
“Cows” by Matthew Stokoe

I’m a writer, I’ve spent my lifetime reading but I’ve never run across a book like this. It’s a writer’s hope that that their proficiency as a writer is capable of drawing the reader into their world in a seamless fashion. Convinces them, for a single moment in time, to give up their day-to-day life, to indulge themselves in the hypnotic spell being cast for them.

Stokoe’s writing reminded me of Patrick Susskind’s “Perfume,” another book about a young man spawned by a woman who could have been the template for Stokoe’s “Hagbeast.” Like “Cows,” “Perfume” puts you inside the labyrinthine depths of his anti-hero’s thoughts. Never once does Susskind depart from a narrative that is as seductive as the scent of perfumes at which he is adept at identifying. The writing is magical and transports the reader along into his twisted world. I struggle to elaborate on what I mean by magical. (1) You have to really love the written word and be seduced by the writer’s artfulness, by what amounts to evocative poetry. (2) You must have an open mind, be nonjudgemental, be willing to be carried along on the far ranging tide of the writer’s imagination.

So it is with “Cows.” One reviewer on bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t “unread” Stokoe’s book. It is gruesome, it is brutal, it is bloody and perverted and not for the faint of heart. There are episodes of bestiality performed by men caught up in the hideous world of a slaughterhouse. Their sexual gratification, described as never before, is just a perk for the job they have to do.

The reader is caught up in the dark labyrinth of Steven’s mind and Stokoe never lets up. And yet there is something heroic there, like a Greek tragedy, in his search to save his lost soul and fight his way into the sunlight that has always eluded him.

This is the work of someone who knows intimately what it takes to reach that point of liberation, of validation for one’s existence. Written with razor-sharp insights and perfect word choices, you are solidly rooting for Steven. Even the visceral details—like sharing a meal of his own excrement with his mother—is so graphically vivid and so totally gag-inducing but it perfectly captures the horrors of life with “the Hagbeast.”

So maybe caveat emptor. And one last thought, somewhere lurking in the story is the heart of a man who just might be a vegetarian.