"So what's it like to kill someone?" "I can't tell you." - Unnamed Cabbie and Michael Poole Koko is brutal. It is, perhaps, the most disturbing and uncomfortable book I have ever had the "pleasure" of reading. I phrase it that way because I can acknowledge that the book is well-written, that Peter Straub has an amazing turn of phrase, and that there is a brilliant thread at work here. But what Straub manages to do with Koko is to explore the feelings of trauma, guilt, and psychological suffering felt by its protagonists, to take you inside their heads, and to allow you to identify with them. You yourself may never know the trauma or never know what trauma does to people, but for the time it will take you to read this book, this uncompromising and singleminded work of fiction, the feelings will at least be right. I could not read this book all at once. I may never read it ever again. But hopefully, if you find this and read it, and if you find in it the same things I did, it will leave its mark on you. And that, above all else, is what defines a successful work of literature. If you're never able to shake the feelings it gives you, it's won. It's done its job. I admit when I first started reading Koko, I was turned off by it. The copy on the dust jacket was utterly ridiculous to me after reading so many books that made the same claims. I knew off the bat that this would probably be more psychological thriller than horror novel and started looking for the proper cues to tell me who the murderer truly was. I even complained about how the characters missed an obvious clue about the villain a third of the way through the book. But as I read, I started to see where it was going. I wondered where it would all end up and how. And then when I figured out what the book was really about, the pieces suddenly clicked into place and what I saw as disparate, offhand elements suddenly came together and clicked. Koko, you see, is not a book about four men, or a book about a serial killer, or even a book about the frightening underbelly of urban legends in southeast Asia. It's a book about trauma, guilt, pain, and exactly how far you can push the human psyche until it snaps. And it is brilliant.More, as always, below Koko tells the story of four men: Michael Poole, a pediatrician; Conor Linklater, a jumpy and anxious carpenter; Tina Pumo, a successful restaurateur; and Harry Beevers, an attorney at a law firm and former disgraced lieutenant in the US Army. The four served together during the Vietnam War, and in particular were party to some rather disturbing events surrounding the village of Ia Thuc and the area known as Dragon Valley. They reunite in Washington DC for the unveiling of the Vientam War Memorial, but soon the reunion takes a darker turn. Beevers has discovered a series of strange and grisly murders, all marked by the same signature: A regimental playing card from their unit with the word "KOKO" scrawled on it. The men surmise that it has to be a member of their unit almost immediately, and believe it to be a comrade of theirs who never came back to the US but instead stayed in Asia and apparently suffered some kind of breakdown. At Beevers' urging, Conor and Michael accompany him first to Singapore and then to Bangkok on Koko's trail. And then things get weird. None of the men are particularly stable to begin with. Conor is twitchy and mentally unsound, Michael suffers from hallucinations and guilt that his son's cancer may have had something to do with him, and Beevers seems like the most well-adjusted but is clearly hiding some pretty dark and disturbing things of his own beneath that surface, most prominently a need for justification and glory. And as they track their friend Tim Underhill through clubs and bars and parking garages, it's clear they're tracking something else, too. Something more intangible. Meanwhile, a killer with the almost preternatural ability to move from place to place, vanish in plain sight, and make his face forgettable is tracking the men. He's got four playing cards, all with their names on them. And he calls himself Koko... What really sold the book for me was the characters. You spend a lot of time in the heads of Conor, Tina, and Michael, and after spending some time, I got to know them a little better. You could start to understand their actions more. Part of what makes the book so uncomfortable and disturbing is that the reader is spending almost all their time inside the heads of several disturbed men. Peter Straub really opens up Michael, for instance, more or less the central POV character, and really nails his detachment. There's a genuine ache as he realizes he's watching his life slide out of view and there is nothing he can do about it. Tina may be something of a coward and completely unable to face or process the murders, but the reader gets the sense that it's because he's a good guy trying to put his past behind him. It's also made very clear that he didn't participate in many of the atrocities back in Vietnam, and that he genuinely cares for those around him. He doesn't want to poke an anthill. Even Koko gets some characterization and a small degree of sympathy. The Koko passages are written with glimpses that Koko has some kind of brain damage or mental complications, and definitely a history of abuse. Second, the tone really helps the book. Koko is not lurid and Peter Straub does not make it lurid. Everything is detached, matter-of-fact, and never overloads the detail. Were it not for the narrative and the insight into characters' heads, Koko could almost be written in the style of a nonfiction true-crime narrative, one of the ones that sticks more on the account side rather than the sensational side of things. There are some scenes in the novel-- truly disturbing things, things you would never want to witness in person-- that I had to read over a second time because they were handled matter-of-factly. They were handled either in offhand tones, because the men involved in the acts didn't see anything wrong with them, or in once case because Conor, being who he is, does not understand what is going on in front of him. There is, and I know this is weird to talk about with a book, a certain amount of grit to Koko. The entire thing feels like a thriller made in the mid to late seventies. Even when there are more surreal sequences, they're handled with a certain grit and veracity that makes them seem real, even if they turn out to be a dream or something not quite as real. And finally, the plot is well thought out, with some genuine surprises here and there. The identity of the killer is well-concealed, and when it finally comes out, it's entirely appropriate and calls back to earlier points of the book. The ending is one where it's not certain whether any of the main characters will come out of this alive, and indeed as the book goes along it builds dread at a slowly methodical pace that one of the men the reader meets at the beginning of the novel is definitely not going to make it. I began to dread every POV section labeled "Koko", as it meant the killer would get one step closer to whatever his goal really was. That Straub did this with such skill, and actually had me going for a while that I'd figured out the book, just to pull the lever and drop me into a situation to which I had no way to process and no response. But there are some concerns I have. First, like I said, this is not an enjoyable read. It's a good book, but I can't imagine many who'd find a book about men coming to terms with their own trauma and guilt mixed in with serial murder and Southeast Asian underworld activities fun. If there are, they're probably on a government watch list somewhere where they belong. It's like one of those movies that everyone agrees is a good movie, but shouldn't be watched more than once. I do give Peter Straub credit, though, it's a more cerebral disturbing than most horror writers get, and in a better way than any "extreme horror" writers have ever been able to capture. Second, I would like to warn my readers that while there is a conclusion, the book doesn't end. In the end, though, these are small quibbles in a larger work, and Koko is well worth the read. Once. Only once. I'm not sure this is the kind of book I ever want to read again, but I suggest that anyone who reads this review find it and look for it yourself. You may like what you find. You may be horrified. But Peter Straub's best feature is that he's able to get inside his readers' heads, and he does that here. NEXT WEEK:Peter Straub Month continues with:Ghost StoryAND THEN:- Floating Dragon- ShadowlandAND MANY OTHERS
ISBN 0451162145 - Tough book to review, but a pretty quick (not easy, just quick!) read, Koko is worth the time! I often feel like the number of typos that get through is a good indicator of how highly (or lowly) the book is seen by the publisher and Koko has a mere 6 in 595 pages - but two mistakes really bothered me. Early in the book, Conor's shirt has yellow letters and two pages later, the letters are orange; late in the book, Koko leaves a note which reads, in part, "I have no name" and is quoted two pages later as "I have no home". Petty? Sure - but I think most typos are due to poor proofreading and this type of thing is more likely the author's fault. I don't like simple continuity errors from an author like Straub, because I'm trusting him to write a complex story and if he can't keep simple things straight...That said, Straub has done a great job with the big picture. In 1982, as Vietnam vets from all over the country flock to the new memorial wall in Washington, the killings begin - men are found dead, their heads mutilated, cards with "Koko" written on them in their mouths. Other than a small group of men who served together, no one has yet discovered that the killings are connected. Tina Pumo, Conor Linklater, Michael Poole and their rather aptly named former Lt. Harry Beevers gather in Washington for the memorial's opening and Harry proposes that they find the killer, because they all know his identity. Despite Harry's disturbing stance that they can make some money from this, the men agree to join him. Pumo remains in New York while the others return to Vietnam and set out to find Tim Underhill, a former member of their platoon and a crazed author who chose not to come home when the war ended.The backstory is filled in, slowly, with flashbacks to the moment and place of Koko's creation - a cave in a small village in Vietnam, Ia Thuc. The atrocities of that day haunt all the men but none more than Koko, who has set out in his own way to right the wrongs they committed. This puts Linklater, Poole, Beevers and Pumo at the top of his hit list and they have to find him before he finds them.One reviewer commented that he wanted to know what happened in the cave. The book does state what happened, but in tiny stages. The worst of it doesn't come out until very nearly the end of the book, as Harry's and Koko's paths begin to merge. How each of them perceives what happened is, ultimately, the reason for Koko's existence, so revealing it from the beginning would have detracted from the horror of it, making it seem not so much the sort of thing that would haunt men for over a decade. I, for one, also appreciated the way it was done because, really, the graphic details would have made the book too pornographic and far less worth reading.In the end, the thing that makes this book a worthwhile read is the characters. Almost no one is who they seemed to be in the beginning, but the change in your perception isn't some abrupt thing forced on you by bad writing. It happens slowly, as one layer after another reveals clearly what you feel like you should have seen all along. Can you guess early on who the killer is? Sure, you CAN - there's even a giveaway on the back cover, where it mentions that one of the men searching for Koko is an writer - but don't bother. It isn't really about who - it's about why. And if the ending seems incomplete, and it does, it makes sense, too. Not just from the "setting it up for another book" standpoint, either. The man who became Koko died in Ia Thuc, and there is no fair and just punishment for him that he hasn't already suffered. Still, the only thing that keeps me from giving this book 5 stars is the sense that the open-ended ending was more to lead into the next book than anything else.Among the things that stuck with me that had nothing to do with the story itself, Beevers (in 1982 in the story and 1988 when it was written) thinks of New York as "ground zero", no caps, no foretelling, just an interesting note. The mention of D.B. Cooper was a nice touch, as are the frequent mentions of other authors and books, including Blue Rose (ISBN 0887330053 and 0146001079) copyright 1985 by Straub himself but attributed to Tim Underhill in the book. Superbly written, and worth all 595 pages!- AnnaLovesBooks
What do You think about Koko (2001)?
Koko is a lenghty tome. My paperback copy spans 640 pages and promises great things - a haunting nightmare of four Vietnam veterans, reunited 15 years after the war, thrust back into the horrors of the war when they learn about a chain of murders comitted in Southeast Asia - the murderer always leaves a playing card with the word "Koko" scribbled on it. The word has eerie connotations for the four men - they believe that a former member of their platoon is behind the murders.After Floating Dragon and The Talisman, Peter Straub wanted to try his strenghts in a different field. He worked four years on Koko, and in many interviews names it as his strongest work. He fooled those who were expecting a supernatural tale like his two previous novels; there is little (if any) of supernatural in Koko, but there's plenty of ghosts. The scariest thing is that they are all alive.Koko is a long, complex novel where the travel is most important, not the resolution; it's most definitely not an easy thriller or a simple mystery. It's a tale of a group of men who travelled to hell and returned with their own personal devils. And when their past calls them back, they decide to take action, and pursue the killer: through Signapore and Taipei to Milwaukee and New York City. Peter Straub in one of the interviews said that Koko was his best writing experience, where he entered a flow state in which he was with his characters and discovered that he wrote whole pages without thinking about writing them. It shows; Koko presents a world so complex and real that the reader feels like he was living in it. It does tend to wander from time to time, but doesn't life? Koko is full of real emotions, poignancy, sadness and ambiguity. Pumo, Spitalny, Beevers, Linklater, Underhill are all real people who will stay with you, and Koko is the ghost that haunts them all. These are some of the most realistic and memorable character I've ever encountered in fiction. The narrative is rich, long, detailed, satysfying and haunting, and will stay with the reader for a long time. It stayed with me.Peter Straub has achieved something extraordinary in Koko; when he says that this is his strongest work, a favorite, he has his reasons. A long, complex journey to the heart of darkness that is not really about who - it's about why. A rare gem, worth multiple readings.
—Maciek
Kirstin wrote: "I loved it. If you liked Ghost Story I think you would like this. I'm excited that it's part of a trilogy, I'm not ready to let the characters go!"I think I even still have it. I am going to look for it and add it to the Mt. St. Helen's of a TBR I am cultivating.
—Kirstin
The devastation of warNot all memories from their time in Vietnam are fully understood by the four war veterans who gather for a reunion held at the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington DC. Michael Poole invited Tina Pumo, Conor Linklater and Harry Beevers to join him and share stories of the time they battled in the same platoon. But that's not all they will talk about. The Stars and Stripes magazine recently ran an article on a series of ritualistic murders in the Far East. All of the victims had their eyes and one ear removed, but more significantly: a special playing card was slipped in their mouth. On the card each time one word was written: KOKO. This name has haunted the four veterans since they left Vietnam and is now going to completely change their lives once more.Whereas the bibliography of Peter Straub mainly consists of supernatural thrillers, Koko is one of his most ambitious diversions from the genre. It not only reads like a great psychological thriller, it also creates a atmosphere that draws the reader very effectively into a grim and depressing post-war trauma. It sounds amazing that Peter Staub himself is not a war veteran, because it really reads like he has been there and experienced all that crazy shit that happened during this bizarre war. The pacing of the novel is a bit uneven where you have to endure some really big and thought heavy chapters to reach just a few suspense filled pages. In a way the story is not the main driver of Koko, it is the slow, creepy ghost of the devastation that jumps you at the gullet. Maybe in that respect it still is a supernatural thriller.
—Geert Daelemans
