Koja, Kathe

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Kathe Koja

Personal

Born 1960, in Detroit, MI; married Rick Lieder (an artist); children: one son.

Addresses

Home—Metropolitan Detroit, MI. Office—c/o Author mail, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 19 Union Sq. W., New York, NY 10003.

Career

Writer.

Awards, Honors

Locus Award for Best First Novel, and Bram Stoker Award for Best First Horror Novel, Horror Writers of America, both 1992, both for The Cipher; Humane Society's KIND Book Award, and ASPCA Henry Bergh Award, both 2003, both for Straydog; Children's Book Award, International Reading Association, and Society of Midland Authors Children's Fiction Award, both 2004, both for Buddha Boy.

Writings

The Cipher, Abyss (New York, NY), 1991.

Bad Brains, Abyss (New York, NY), 1992.

Skin, Delacorte (New York, NY), 1993.

Strange Angels, Delacorte (New York, NY), 1994.

Kink, Holt (New York, NY), 1996.

Extremities (short stories), Four Walls Eight Windows (New York, NY), 1998.

Straydog, Farrar, Straus and Giroux (New York, NY), 2002.

Buddha Boy, Frances Foster Books (New York, NY), 2003.

The Blue Mirror, Farrar, Straus and Giroux (New York, NY), 2004.

Talk, Frances Foster Books (New York, NY), 2005.

Sidelights

Both a writer of modern horror novels for adults and sympathetic outsider tales for young adults, author Kathe Koja is a versatile wordsmith. Koja's adult novels have been compared, as Paula Guran noted on the DarkEcho Horror Web site, to the work of "Franz Kafka, Clive Barker, Don DeLillo, Marcel Proust, Katherine Dunn, the Marquis de Sade, Edgar Allan Poe, William S. Burroughs and God knows who else." Guran further noted that Koja's novels have been labeled variously, "post-modern, 'modern primitive . . . and classy smut,'" and that people either love Koja's work or "dismiss it." Indeed, Koja has, with her handful of horror novels, elicited both high praise and angered condemnation from reviewers. A Michigan novelist living in metropolitan Detroit, Koja is viewed by critics as bringing new blood to the horror genre. "Koja is that rare writer who has not only cultivated a distinctly original approach to horror fiction, but whose unique style is a natural outgrowth of her horror themes," commented Stefan Dziemianowicz in the St. James Guide to Horror, Ghost, and Gothic Writers. Other reviewers have not been so kind. A contributor for Publishers Weekly in a review of her 1994 novel, Strange Angels, accused Koja of "writing with a pretentious, almost adolescent sensibility and a bad case of logorrhea."

In the main, however, Koja's books are taken seriously as a new direction in horror fiction, writing against the genre and attempting to bridge such work with mainstream literature. As Dziemianowicz further noted, "Most of [Koja's] characters are painters or sculptors on the avant-garde fringe. They live bohemian lives. . . . Forever striving to perfect their artistic self-expression, they are constantly at war with themselves and their colleagues. A fine line separates their creativity from insanity, and their self-absorption and obsessive devotion to their artistic vision frequently pushes them across that line." Speaking with Guran on DarkEcho Horror, Koja allowed that "art is always a constant in my books. I'm a writer, my husband is an artist, many of our friends do one or the other, so I guess I'm writing about a milieu I know pretty well—but the inherently transformative properties of art itself, of the making of art, fascinate me, too, in my life as well as my work." Dziemianowicz went on to add: "Koja has perfected a sensual narrative style that projects the intense emotions of these characters. . . . At moments of horror, when her characters lose control over their situations, Koja boosts the energy of her prose and bombards the reader with streams of images that are almost too incoherent to be absorbed at once. In general, though, her narratives approximate the states of mind of her frustrated, temperamental artists, steadily simmering by always threatening to boil over. . . . In Koja's fiction any endowment that sets one apart from others is potentially alienating, and those who appear most gifted are often those most cursed."

"Most horror writing is about working through the fear of death, rot, and decay," wrote Richard Gehr in the Voice Literary Supplement. "Koja's pitiful heroes, on the other hand, are transformed by it, turning into something even uglier and weirder than the everyday mutants they were before." Koja updates her horror by drawing upon her familiarity with the counter-culture of the 1980s and 1990s. As Edward Bryant explained in a Locus review, she "appears to know what's happening down there on the street-level frontiers of guerrilla culture and she's unafraid to pass it on." Yet, even though it is set in the world of urban grunge, "her fiction is both tough and tender, strong streaks of romance reined in by a hard-edged sensibility that rarely flinches," commented Bryant in another Locus review. Koja sees herself as a writer asking questions. As she noted to Guran, "Every writer, it seems to me, asks a question in his or her work; mine concerns transformation, or more properly, transcendence: when we will be more than we are, what do we do? How do we choose what then to become, and how accomplish that becoming? And after transformation—what?"

In addition to her work for adults, Koja has also penned several young adult novels, including Stray-dog, Buddha Boy, and The Blue Mirror, tales that sensitively deal with marginalized teens, creative in spirit, who must face hard decisions and deal with harsh realities.

Horror with an Urban Edge

Published in 1991, The Cipher is Koja's first novel and the first in Dell's Abyss horror series. Bloomsbury Review's Edward Bryant termed it "a brilliantly crafted portrait of disintegrating reality in a grungy contemporary city much like Detroit." The novel follows Nicholas Reid, a video-store clerk and aspiring poet, and his lover, Nakota. The two discover a black hole of sorts in a storeroom in Nicholas's run-down apartment building. The "Funhole," as they call it, intrigues and obsesses them; there appears to be no bottom, and light does not enter it. Things that go in the Funhole disappear or come back changed. A video made by suspending a camera inside the hole yields a tape that is seen differently by different viewers. Eventually, Nicholas's obsession with the hole forces him to spend day and night by its side. This constant proximity to the hole changes him, and his changes affect those around him. "For Nicholas himself, the hole is a phenomenon that forces him to face his miserable, aimless life," noted a Publishers Weekly reviewer.

"Koja tells her story with extraordinarily precise language, often lyrical, sometimes brutally direct," Bryant wrote in Locus. "There is humor here, but it is designed to saw at your ribs until you wince." "The fear Koja taps into in The Cipher," according to Gehr in the Voice Literary Supplement, "is less that of the body dying and rotting (as in [traditional] horror) than an infinity spent contemplating the absence of that which we imagine will complete us." Bryant concluded, "The Cipher is an adventurous work for similarly adventurous readers."

Koja followed The Cipher with the 1992 publication of Bad Brains. Like her previous work, this novel is concerned with transformation and mental anguish. The main character, a painter named Austen, slips and falls in a convenience store parking lot, receiving a head wound. Not only does his injury cause seizures, Austen is plagued by strange hallucinations, including a recurring image of a mucous-like slime creature. Hoping to move ahead of his problems, he embarks on a journey to Texas. His problems follow him, however, and the book climaxes in violence.

With Skin, announced a Kirkus Reviews critic, "a strong stylist" created "a savage hymn to industrial culture . . . whose breakthrough originality is unique but will leave many fighting off its overload." The 1993 publication tells the story of Tess Bajac, an artist/welder who creates sculptures made from metal scraps, and Bibi Bloss, a performance artist whose work is her own tattooed, scarified, and pierced body. The book follows their relationship and their individual and joint efforts to find expression through mechanized steel and pierced, cut skin. The author of Skin shows "considerable talent for evoking atmosphere, but," faulted a Publishers Weekly reviewer, "her style . . . distances the characters from the reader and hampers the novel's already minimal movement."

When assessing Skin, reviewers theorized on Koja's focus in the novel. As Faren Miller pointed out in Locus, "[Koja's] real subject is obsession: the passion to create an artwork, a new self, something transcendent. And the horror of it is how people will keep striving till they break." "For all the breathless sensation of out-of-control art and visceral squirming of human flesh transformed by knives, needles, and manic machines," commented Bryant in Locus, "the center here is ineluctably human. Tess and Bibi's relationship (as well as each's relationship with the other characters) carries both the fragility and toughness of flesh rather than the cold alloy of machinery." As Miller recognized: "Skin is also passionate, deeply informed, and genuine, particularly as it portrays the artist from the inside out." And for Dan Bogey, reviewing the novel in Library Journal, Koja's book "eerily evokes an obsessive society where art and artist are inseparable."

Madness, Love Triangles and Other Obsessions

Koja delivered her fourth novel, Strange Angels, in 1994. As with her previous books, the confluence of artistry and madness plays a central role. The book's

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protagonist is a frustrated photographer named Grant whose girlfriend works as an art therapist. Through her, Grant is introduced to the drawings of a mentally ill man named Robin, whose anguished, twisted art gives the photographer hope for his own struggling talent. Grant convinces Robin to leave therapy and cease his medication, which, while heightening his artistic output, only exacerbates his mental condition. Robin persists in a fixation with seraphim, and this, coupled with other signs, convinces Grant that Robin is being transformed into an angel. A Publishers Weekly critic denounced the work, calling the characters "one-dimensional monomaniacs" and believing that the author "whines unremittingly in a single-pitched, overwrought stream of consciousness that will probably alienate most readers." A Kirkus Reviews contributor however, praised parts of the book as "sensitive" while labeling the work "gratuitously bizarre" as a whole.

Although "a brilliant stylist" who writes "unembellished sensory impression" which "perfectly express . . . emotional devastation," Koja, in Kink, maintained a Publishers Weekly reviewer, falls short of previous work. "In this stab at transgressive mainstream fiction" involving a love triangle, Koja's usual character types seem like "self absorbed bores," contended the disappointed critic. Kink is an "anticlimactic . . . unsubtle" story with "long breathless clauses strung together in a stream-of-consciousness style," declared New York Times Book Review contributor Karen Angel, who faulted the book's overused symbols, damaging "silly central conceit," and the major characters "ultimate realization." Faye A. Chadwell, writing in Library Journal, also felt that readers might be "disappointed" in Koja's ending, but felt that "this intense, erotic piece is a recommended launching pad" for those wanting to explore the romantic and erotic possibilities of threesomes. And Irving Malin dubbed the novel "haunting" in his article for Review of Contemporary Fiction.

Comments in Publishers Weekly for Koja's next publication, Extremities, were similarly unflattering. The critic called the collection of seventeen stories "daring but unsatisfying," indicating that Koja's "gift for sensory description" was used ineffectively. According to the Publishers Weekly reviewer, too much of the text "seemed designed merely to shock" and "such gratuitous grotesquerie" failed to be "provocative" and occasionally created "unintentional comic effect." However, a more favorable view was taken by Christopher Atamian, writing in the New York Times Book Review. Atamian found the collection "powerful," with "provocative story lines and evocative prose." He further noted that Koja's "most successful stories are the ones most grounded in reality," such as "Bondage" and "Ballad of the Spanish Civil Guard." Malin, writing in Review of Contemporary Fiction, had additional praise for Koja's story collection, noting the "manic beauty" of the stories.

Turns to Young Adult Fiction

While Koja's previous work could be enjoyed by sophisticated readers from teenage to adult, she wrote specifically with a young adult audience in mind with her 2002 Straydog, the 2003 Buddha Boy, and 2004 The Blue Mirror. In the first of these, teenage Rachel feels like something of a stray dog herself, and volunteers at the local animal shelter. There she encounters a feral collie mix that has been brought in, and names the wild and untamable animal Grrl. Writing about the dog in a language arts class, she attracts the attention of her teacher and another student,

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Griffin. However, when the dog attacks workers at the animal shelter, it is put down and Rachel becomes manic for a time, trying to destroy the shelter. Finally, though, she begins to realize that only by writing about the animal can she remain true to it; Grrl was too wild to be tamed. Acceptance leads to friendship with Griffin, as well.

Koja's initial young adult offering was met with positive reviews. Paula Rohrlick, writing in Kliatt, found it a "short, swift read . . . packed full of emotion." A critic for Kirkus Reviews wrote that "fans of tales about teen writers, or stories with animal themes, will pant after this." Similarly, for a Publishers Weekly contributor, Koja presents a "solid if sometimes familiar tale of a high school misfit" in a tale with a "compelling and sympathetic" protagonist. Farida S. Dowler, writing in School LibraryJournal, commented that the "friendship with Griffin has romantic tension, but transcends high-school stereotypes." And Horn Book's Jennifer M. Brabander concluded that the novella is a "fast but semi-sophisticated read for teens who haven't out-grown dog stories."

In Buddha Boy, Koja features another high school outsider in a tale about a new boy who must deal with the school bullies and find his place in a new social hierarchy. The new boy at school, Michael Martin, has a shaved head and engages in strange behavior, such as begging for his lunch. The popular Justin has no desire to get involved, but is paired with Michael by their teacher, and he begins to learn what makes the new boy tick. Michael likes to go by the name of Jinsen, his spiritual name, and as the two prepare a school project, Justin learns more and more about Jinsen/Michael's spiritual conversion

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and practices. Ultimately such understanding leads Justin to stand up for Michael and earn the epithet of "Buddha Boy" from others at school.

This second young adult novel brought more critical praise for Koja. Writing in Publishers Weekly, a contributor observed that the author "accomplishes quite a feat with this novel narrated by [a] high school sophomore." The same reviewer found the book a "compelling introduction to Buddhism and a credible portrait of how true friendship brings out the best in people." Likewise, Coop Renner, writing in School Library Journal, concluded, "Quickly paced, inviting, and eye-opening, this is a marvelous addition to YA literature." Booklist's Hazel Rochman also thought that "teens will find much to talk about here," and Horn Book's Peter D. Sieruta commended the novel's "original, offbeat voice."

Koja continued her string of young adult tales with 2004's The Blue Mirror, a tale of yet another misfit at school. Maggy is sixteen and wants simply to be invisible at school. She works after school at the Blue Mirror cafe downtown and the rest of the time has to care for her alcoholic mother. Sketching is her one outlet, until she meets the runaway, Cole. Attracted to this edgy risk taker who tells her he loves her, Maggy comes alive, yet is also frightened by what she senses in Cole.

If you enjoy the works of Kathe Koja

If you enjoy the works of Kathe Koja, you might want to check out the following books:

Martha Brooks, True Confessions of a Heartless Girl, 2003.

Tracy Mack, Birdland, 2003.

Todd Strasser, Can't Get There from Here, 2004.

Whether writing for young adults or adults, Koja is a fine stylist. In Washington Post Book World contributor Paul Di Filippo's view, Koja uses her prose to surgically reveal her vision of horror. "Koja is intent on undercutting and discarding all the unthought and unfelt scaffolding and properties of her chosen form and resurrecting it bright and bloody." She is also uncovering the character of counter-culture art. "Koja is both creating the kind of radical new art she advocates and simultaneously detailing the methods and penalties attendant on such creation," wrote Di Filippo. "A clever trick, by any standards." And answering a question from Guran about where she sees herself and her writing in ten to fifteen years, Koja responded: "I've had so little luck predicting my life so far . . . that any speculation I might have would by definition be vain. What I want most is to continue working until all the lights go out. Or on."

Biographical and Critical Sources

BOOKS

St. James Guide to Horror, Ghost, and Gothic Writers, 1st edition, St. James (Detroit, MI), 1998.

PERIODICALS

Bloomsbury Review, December, 1991, Edward Bryant, review of The Cipher, p. 27.

Booklist, February 15, 2003, Hazel Rochman, review of Buddha Boy, pp. 1064-1065; February 15, 2004, Debbie Carton, review of The Blue Mirror, p. 1051.

Horn Book Magazine, May-June, 2002, Jennifer M. Brabander, review of Straydog, p. 333; May-June, 2003, Peter D. Sieruta, review of Buddha Boy, pp. 350-351; May-June, 2004, Jennifer M. Brabander, review of The Blue Mirror, p. 331.

Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, April, 2004, Sara Ann Shettler, review of The Blue Mirror, p. 614.

Journal of American Culture, fall, 1995, Steffen Hantke, "Deconstructing Horror: Commodities in the Fiction of Jonathan Carroll and Kathe Koja," pp. 41-57.

Kirkus Reviews, February 1, 1993, review of Skin, p. 86; March 15, 1994, review of Strange Angels, p. 325; March 15, 2002, review of Straydog, p. 416; January 1, 2003, review of Buddha Boy, p. 62; February 15, 2004, review of The Blue Mirror, p. 181.

Kliatt, March, 2002, Paula Rohrlick, review of Stray-dog, p. 11; March, 2004, Clair Rosser, review of The Blue Mirror, p. 12.

Library Journal, March 1, 1993, Eric W. Johnson, review of Skin, p. 108; August, 1994, Dan Bogey, review of Skin, p. 168; June 15, 1996, Faye A. Chadwell, review of Kink, p. 91; October 15, 1998, Carolyn Ellis Gonzalez, review of Extremities, p. 103.

Locus, January, 1991, Edward Bryant, review of Cipher, p. 21; December, 1992, pp. 17-18; April, 1993, Faren Miller, review of Skin, p. 21.

Los Angeles Times, August 11, 1996, Chris Goodrich, review of Kink, p. 10.

New York Times Book Review, January 19, 1997, Karen Angel, review of Kink, p. 18; February 21, 1999, Christopher Atamian, review of Extremities, p. 20.

Publishers Weekly, January 11, 1991, review of Cipher, p. 98; February 15, 1993 review of Skin, p. 212; April 4, 1994, review of Strange Angels, p. 59; April 29, 1996, review of Kink, p. 53; September 14, 1998, review of Extremities, p. 46; March 25, 2002, review of Straydog, p. 66; January 6, 2003, review of Buddha Boy, pp. 60-61.

Review of Contemporary Fiction, fall, 1996, Irving Malin, review of Kink, p. 189; summer, 1999, Irving Malin, review of Extremities, p. 132.

School Library Journal, April, 2002, Farida S. Dowler, review of Straydog, pp. 150-151; February, 2003, Coop Renner, review of Buddha Boy, p. 142; October, 2003, review of Buddha Boy, p. S60.

Voice Literary Supplement, July-August, 1992, Richard Gehr, review of The Cipher, p. 5; March, 2004, Kelly Czarnecki, review of The Blue Mirror, p. 216.

Washington Post Book World, March 28, 1993, Paul Di Filippo, review of Skin, p. 9.