Genre Fiction
![Alma Katsu - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B004FRX5WO.jpg)
The Fervor
The acclaimed author of the celebrated literary horror novels The Hunger and The Deep turns her psychological and supernatural eye on the horrors of the Japanese American internment camps in World War II.
1944: As World War II rages on, the threat has come to the home front. In a remote corner of Idaho, Meiko Briggs and her daughter, Aiko, are desperate to return home. Following Meiko's husband's enlistment as an air force pilot in the Pacific months prior, Meiko and Aiko were taken from their home in Seattle and sent to one of the internment camps in the Midwest. It didn't matter that Aiko was American-born: They were Japanese, and therefore considered a threat by the American government.
Mother and daughter attempt to hold on to elements of their old life in the camp when a mysterious disease begins to spread among those interned. What starts as a minor cold quickly becomes spontaneous fits of violence and aggression, even death. And when a disconcerting team of doctors arrive, nearly more threatening than the illness itself, Meiko and her daughter team up with a newspaper reporter and widowed missionary to investigate, and it becomes clear to them that something more sinister is afoot, a demon from the stories of Meiko's childhood, hell-bent on infiltrating their already strange world.
Inspired by the Japanese yokai and the jorogumo spider demon, The Fervor explores the horrors of the supernatural beyond just the threat of the occult. With a keen and prescient eye, Katsu crafts a terrifying story about the danger of demonization, a mysterious contagion, and the search to stop its spread before it's too late. A sharp account of too-recent history, it's a deep excavation of how we decide who gets to be human when being human matters most.
1944: As World War II rages on, the threat has come to the home front. In a remote corner of Idaho, Meiko Briggs and her daughter, Aiko, are desperate to return home. Following Meiko's husband's enlistment as an air force pilot in the Pacific months prior, Meiko and Aiko were taken from their home in Seattle and sent to one of the internment camps in the Midwest. It didn't matter that Aiko was American-born: They were Japanese, and therefore considered a threat by the American government.
Mother and daughter attempt to hold on to elements of their old life in the camp when a mysterious disease begins to spread among those interned. What starts as a minor cold quickly becomes spontaneous fits of violence and aggression, even death. And when a disconcerting team of doctors arrive, nearly more threatening than the illness itself, Meiko and her daughter team up with a newspaper reporter and widowed missionary to investigate, and it becomes clear to them that something more sinister is afoot, a demon from the stories of Meiko's childhood, hell-bent on infiltrating their already strange world.
Inspired by the Japanese yokai and the jorogumo spider demon, The Fervor explores the horrors of the supernatural beyond just the threat of the occult. With a keen and prescient eye, Katsu crafts a terrifying story about the danger of demonization, a mysterious contagion, and the search to stop its spread before it's too late. A sharp account of too-recent history, it's a deep excavation of how we decide who gets to be human when being human matters most.
Editorial Reviews
One of CrimeReads' Most Anticipated Crime Fiction 2022
One of Book Mark'sBest Sci-Fi and Fantasy Books of April
One of CNN's Most Anticipated Reads of April
One of Crime Read's Recommended Books of April
One of Book Riot's Best New Releases in April
"The Fervor blends the best elements of a superb, epidemic-themed horror. . . . Katsu expertly weaves the darkest, most disturbing horror motifs with the psychologically jarring elements of historical disasters and events. . . . It's a thought-provoking book about the power of hate and the significant strength it takes to defy a system perpetuating that hate." -Southern Review of Books
"Another clever work of horror/historical fiction that is extremely relevant to our current times . . . So well plotted . . . So brilliantly conceived . . . This book brings the heat on nearly every page." -Book Reporter
"Gives readers a glimpse into one of the darkest moments of American history, and then gives the already terrifying ethos of that time a new and frightening shape….The Fervor delivers a punch that's equal parts psychological horror and jump scare. It will make you want to read into the wee hours of the morning, even though you may question that decision when the shadows start to move." –BookPage (starred review)
"Despite its supernatural elements, the true horror in The Fervor doesn't come from jump scares like readers might expect. . . . The novel provides an incredibly important and eye-opening commentary on discrimination and racism." -BookTrib
"Katsu has no peer when it comes to atmospheric, detail-rich historical horror, but this volume is more unsettling than anything she's written yet, because its demons at...
One of Book Mark'sBest Sci-Fi and Fantasy Books of April
One of CNN's Most Anticipated Reads of April
One of Crime Read's Recommended Books of April
One of Book Riot's Best New Releases in April
"The Fervor blends the best elements of a superb, epidemic-themed horror. . . . Katsu expertly weaves the darkest, most disturbing horror motifs with the psychologically jarring elements of historical disasters and events. . . . It's a thought-provoking book about the power of hate and the significant strength it takes to defy a system perpetuating that hate." -Southern Review of Books
"Another clever work of horror/historical fiction that is extremely relevant to our current times . . . So well plotted . . . So brilliantly conceived . . . This book brings the heat on nearly every page." -Book Reporter
"Gives readers a glimpse into one of the darkest moments of American history, and then gives the already terrifying ethos of that time a new and frightening shape….The Fervor delivers a punch that's equal parts psychological horror and jump scare. It will make you want to read into the wee hours of the morning, even though you may question that decision when the shadows start to move." –BookPage (starred review)
"Despite its supernatural elements, the true horror in The Fervor doesn't come from jump scares like readers might expect. . . . The novel provides an incredibly important and eye-opening commentary on discrimination and racism." -BookTrib
"Katsu has no peer when it comes to atmospheric, detail-rich historical horror, but this volume is more unsettling than anything she's written yet, because its demons at...
Readers Top Reviews
Lizz
Before I write my review I want to thank Putnam books for giving me a finished copy of The Fervor. It was the cover that first drew me in, then I read the synopsis, and I knew right then I would love the book. Last year I read The Hunger and that is when I fell in love with Alma Katus. She is also the one who got me to read more horrors. Her writing is beautiful, the story telling makes it hard to put down. With The Fervor you could tell it as a little more personal than her other books and that is what I really liked about it. Growing up I didn’t learn about the internment camps in school, it wasn’t until I graduated and started to really get into history that I learned about them. It felt like it was something America wanted to forget. There is a quote that really made me stop and think, am I doing this? “Maybe he was afraid of the hateful nature of his fellow whites-well he could afford to pretend it didn’t exist because he was white, too.” The theme of this book still can be seen today with all the hate going on in America with all the anti-Asian racism. Alma Katsu has a wonderful way of drawing you in and making you feel like you are watching the story unfold. I started not liking spiders but now I can’t even look at them the same. I would definitely check the CW/TW before you read this book. There is a scene in the book that hit me a little harder than I thought because I am going through it right now. I really do highly recommend this book to anyone who loves horror and history, it was a great blend of both. My heartbroke and healed with the characters, I got attached to them all. I will be reading a lot more from Alma Katsu.
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Outside Bly, Oregon
Gearhart Mountain
November 19, 1944
"Well gosh darnit, wouldn't you just."
Archie Mitchell gripped the gearshift of his 1941 Nash 600 sedan, but he could feel the loose spin of his tires over mud.
The late autumn rains had softened Dairy Creek Road into little more than a dark rivulet woven through the dense ponderosas and junipers blanketing the mountainside. Uncertainty spun in his gut. They should have known better than to take these logging roads this time of year.
"The kids, Arch," Elsie warned from the passenger seat. Her blond waves, her pink lips. Hazel eyes darted to the rearview mirror. In its reflection: an assortment of brown and green plaids and corduroys, jumbled knees and slipping socks. The Patzke kids, Dick and Joan, plus three others-Jay Gifford, Edward Engen, and Sherman Shoemaker-made up the entirety of the field trip. All of them with their hair combed tidy for Sunday. Whispering and humming tunes. Dick Patzke pulled on his teen sister's ponytail in the back seat.
"Are we stuck?" asked Ed.
"Everything's going to be just fine," Elsie assured the kids. "The Lord has brought us a little trial by nature is all."
Trial by nature. Archie smiled. His wife was right. He ought to have watched what he said. It's no wonder she had been the star pupil at Simpson Bible College, unlike him. Somehow, despite his many failings, God saw fit to give him Elsie.
He hit the gas again and this time the car lurched forward, a river of putty-gray slurry slipping out beneath them as the tires regained traction.
"You see, then?" Elsie patted his knee. He tried to feel comforted, but the bad premonition, the nervousness that had been ratcheting through his chest all morning, wouldn't go away.
Which was precisely why they were here. This trip to Gearhart Mountain had been Elsie's idea. She and Archie had been cooped up indoors, him fretting over her well-being all the time; they needed a change of pace. It was too easy to go haywire without a little fresh air, and it wasn't natural for a young, happy couple in their prime. Besides which, she'd heard the Patzkes had just lost their eldest boy overseas. Surely it was the duty of their pastor to step in and offer a kindness to the family in grief. It didn't hurt that a pair of avid fishermen in the congregation had told him the trout were still biting at Leonard Creek.
"My ever-hopeful fisherman," Elsie had teased him later that night, when they were lying in bed together under the yellow glow of their matching bedside lamps. "Wouldn't that be a nice thing to do for the Patzke kids? A little day trip some Sunday? The Patzkes could use some time alone to grieve, don't ya think? And besides, I could use the practice if I'm to be a mama soon."
She was trying to draw him out of his thoughts . . . and it worked. Archie rolled over and kissed his wife's round, taut belly. Five months and counting. This time it would all go perfectly. There was no need to worry. A healthy son was on his way-Archie reassured himself of it by the glow in Elsie's cheeks.
He'd whispered yes into her nightdress, and now some Sunday had become today.
The woods thickened around them, the sky a blissful blue. Only a few wisps of cloud lingered from yesterday's storm. Still, as they drove up the ever-steepening road, Archie could feel the knot of tension in his chest coiling tighter. He rolled down his window, taking in the crisp mountain air. It was cold enough to carry the scent of winter-and for a moment, he blinked, thinking he'd just seen a snowflake. An eerie feeling moved through him, as if he was in a room in which a door had suddenly blown open. But it was just a tiny seedling, some minuscule bit of fluff held aloft on the wind.
The kids sang hymns again as Archie maneuvered the Nash onto an even narrower service road. It was bumpier than Dairy Creek and he watched Elsie with a worried eye. She had one hand on her belly as they bounced over ruts.
He braked slowly, not far from an abandoned little cabin the fishermen had told him about. "Maybe it would be better to walk the rest of the way."
Elsie reached for the latch. "How about if I take the kids down to the creek? Maybe you can get a little further in the car. That way you won't have to haul the picnic things as far."
She was right, as usual. "You sure you'll be okay?"...
Outside Bly, Oregon
Gearhart Mountain
November 19, 1944
"Well gosh darnit, wouldn't you just."
Archie Mitchell gripped the gearshift of his 1941 Nash 600 sedan, but he could feel the loose spin of his tires over mud.
The late autumn rains had softened Dairy Creek Road into little more than a dark rivulet woven through the dense ponderosas and junipers blanketing the mountainside. Uncertainty spun in his gut. They should have known better than to take these logging roads this time of year.
"The kids, Arch," Elsie warned from the passenger seat. Her blond waves, her pink lips. Hazel eyes darted to the rearview mirror. In its reflection: an assortment of brown and green plaids and corduroys, jumbled knees and slipping socks. The Patzke kids, Dick and Joan, plus three others-Jay Gifford, Edward Engen, and Sherman Shoemaker-made up the entirety of the field trip. All of them with their hair combed tidy for Sunday. Whispering and humming tunes. Dick Patzke pulled on his teen sister's ponytail in the back seat.
"Are we stuck?" asked Ed.
"Everything's going to be just fine," Elsie assured the kids. "The Lord has brought us a little trial by nature is all."
Trial by nature. Archie smiled. His wife was right. He ought to have watched what he said. It's no wonder she had been the star pupil at Simpson Bible College, unlike him. Somehow, despite his many failings, God saw fit to give him Elsie.
He hit the gas again and this time the car lurched forward, a river of putty-gray slurry slipping out beneath them as the tires regained traction.
"You see, then?" Elsie patted his knee. He tried to feel comforted, but the bad premonition, the nervousness that had been ratcheting through his chest all morning, wouldn't go away.
Which was precisely why they were here. This trip to Gearhart Mountain had been Elsie's idea. She and Archie had been cooped up indoors, him fretting over her well-being all the time; they needed a change of pace. It was too easy to go haywire without a little fresh air, and it wasn't natural for a young, happy couple in their prime. Besides which, she'd heard the Patzkes had just lost their eldest boy overseas. Surely it was the duty of their pastor to step in and offer a kindness to the family in grief. It didn't hurt that a pair of avid fishermen in the congregation had told him the trout were still biting at Leonard Creek.
"My ever-hopeful fisherman," Elsie had teased him later that night, when they were lying in bed together under the yellow glow of their matching bedside lamps. "Wouldn't that be a nice thing to do for the Patzke kids? A little day trip some Sunday? The Patzkes could use some time alone to grieve, don't ya think? And besides, I could use the practice if I'm to be a mama soon."
She was trying to draw him out of his thoughts . . . and it worked. Archie rolled over and kissed his wife's round, taut belly. Five months and counting. This time it would all go perfectly. There was no need to worry. A healthy son was on his way-Archie reassured himself of it by the glow in Elsie's cheeks.
He'd whispered yes into her nightdress, and now some Sunday had become today.
The woods thickened around them, the sky a blissful blue. Only a few wisps of cloud lingered from yesterday's storm. Still, as they drove up the ever-steepening road, Archie could feel the knot of tension in his chest coiling tighter. He rolled down his window, taking in the crisp mountain air. It was cold enough to carry the scent of winter-and for a moment, he blinked, thinking he'd just seen a snowflake. An eerie feeling moved through him, as if he was in a room in which a door had suddenly blown open. But it was just a tiny seedling, some minuscule bit of fluff held aloft on the wind.
The kids sang hymns again as Archie maneuvered the Nash onto an even narrower service road. It was bumpier than Dairy Creek and he watched Elsie with a worried eye. She had one hand on her belly as they bounced over ruts.
He braked slowly, not far from an abandoned little cabin the fishermen had told him about. "Maybe it would be better to walk the rest of the way."
Elsie reached for the latch. "How about if I take the kids down to the creek? Maybe you can get a little further in the car. That way you won't have to haul the picnic things as far."
She was right, as usual. "You sure you'll be okay?"...
