REVIEW: It’s Not a Cult by Joey Batey
It’s been a while since I’ve read a horror book, but when I saw that Joey Batey–the brilliant actor behind Jasker in Netflix’s The Witcher–was the author, I knew I had to give it a go. It’s Not a Cult is a morose, cold, at-times darkly funny, brutal commentary on when fandom goes too far. It’s a story of losing control of the story, even when the story is one you came up with, of balancing fame with safety, of creating and the risk of creation. And with Batey at the helm–one of the few living authors who can write from this position of actual understanding of the fandom–it feels like a gleeful exploration of the worst possible scenario.
In It’s Not a Cult Alice is the drummer and videographer for a small, unnamed, unheralded band who write and make music about the Solkats, a series of gods who pull the strings of humanity behind the scenes. In their band the tortured writer Callum comes up with new Cycles about the Solkats, telling their stories like a dark fantasy novellist, and Mel, a camera-loving and somewhat mysterious singer, brings them to life at the front of their band. They are weird, and different, and generally widely ignored by the people at the dingy pubs they play at in the hope a few of their small following might show up. Until one evening one of their fellow musicians is severely beaten at one of their gigs and, for the first time, Alice sees shady creatures amongst the fanbase, pushing them to violence and mischief. And then, the band is no longer obscure, or unknown, and the madness of rabid internet fame lands.
At its core, It’s Not a Cult is a story about the most terrifying fandom in music. It’s a commentary on how scary the internet can be for the average person who finds fame, and what it must feel like to one moment to be basking in the glory of finally being understood and appreciated after all the years of unseen grind, and the next moment, be terrified of your own fans. While this is obviously a ramped-up-to-1,000 version of that theme, I can’t help but feel that with Batey’s ascension to acting fame in one of the most ravenous fan bases on the planet–fantasy–that every fear penned is loosely based on a lived experience of he or one of his co-stars.
The two key points of view to the story look at fandom from opposite directions. Alice views the world and the experience of the band through the viewfinder of a camera, an interesting, introverted character who finds herself ripped from her comfort drummer and videographer role and put in the backdrop of the most explosively viral band on the planet. Kaylee is a relatively middling YouTuber one day, and then she discovers the band, finds the secrets behind the words (even those the band didn’t intend to exist) and finds herself at the front of the wave of crazed fandom baying for the next Cycle, trying to find the band’s next hidden gig, and obsessing over every line and lyric with her followers.
Batey has done really well to take this concept and run with it. The author takes us through this eerie ride that begins with hooded figures and stolen data cards in dingy bars, and grows as our characters do. The band is forced from the comfort of being all-but-anonymous performers as shadowy figures and a rabid fanbase grow their fame and weaponise it. They must face their own needs and desires for creativity and performance as they begin to conflict with their fear and the greed of those around them (greed for money, attention, and leadership). This is where I found It’s Not a Cult the most interesting–looking into how the band change over time as the fame rises. Seeing how Alice, Callum, and Mel change as their fascade of not caring about success so they can just create is prodded and pulled and torn.
Finally, we need to talk about the Solkats. With names like Yem, the Mother, Solkat of Empty Beds; and Scran, Solkat of Bar Tabs, Reckonings, and Squander; Hockle, the Antecedent, Solkat of Spit and Nervous Moments; Bizen, the Witch and Solkat of Children’s Lies; and the great Whisht, Solkat of Red Wine Stains and Noise, the mysterious, mischievous gods of Callum’s Cycles are a little silly, a little dangerous, and a very awesome way to underpin the creepier side of the novel. With Alice being your viewpoint into seeing the Solkats, we see the way they have impact on the world and on the fandom. And through the Cycles and the way humanity has worshipped for millennia, we know that gods and their followers demand sacrifice.
It’s Not a Cult is an incredibly fun read. It’s morose, funny at times, interesting, engaging, sad, and keeps prodding at the part of my mind that sees the worst of what viral fandom can be. I really enjoyed it and am glad I stepped out of my SFF wheelhouse. Joey Batey has pulled another arrow out of his creative quiver and hit a bullseye.
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