[Book Review] ‘Shredded: A Sports and Fitness Body Horror Anthology’

I've always had a rough relationship with body horror: Society is the type of movie that I've seen once, deeply admire, and can never watch again. The body as the site of transgression—what makes us who we are, the ultimate bioelectric haunted house—can be a tough watch. In body horror, the foundations of who you are as a person—as a being—are called into question. Body horror, from Society to The Fly, is predicated upon the dissolution of the boundaries of the physical self. What was once human becomes corrupted. Your body is no longer your own.

As someone who resides in a fat body and is, at best, ambivalent about their gender, the questions posed by body horror have always left me deeply uncomfortable. At least, that was until I read Shredded: A Sports and Fitness Body Horror Anthology.

Edited by Eric Raglin and published by the Cursed Morsels Podcast, Shredded is the kind of love letter to body horror for the kids who were picked last in gym class and fitness nuts alike.

As Raglin mentions in the afterword, damage the human body incurs in the name of sports and spectatorship—and the damage athletes can live with the rest of their lives—is truly body horror. But in Shredded, disability and ecstatic expression of the body are both fully embraced. Though there are certainly stories of bodies turning monstrous, there is, equally, an undercurrent of revelry in these transformations. And every one of these stories is equally queer, too, providing a much-needed approach to fitness and body horror. 

Thematically speaking, Shredded does not focus on cishet, abled bodies. Instead, Shredded actively explores a spectrum of bodies—trans, fat, growing into adulthood, and so much more. At its core, Shredded challenges the question of the cishet, able-bodied “definition” of normalcy and spotlights the bloody, visceral rainbow that is the human body. In terms of stories, Shredded is a joy to read from start to finish, but certain entries stood out:

I Am the Ring, My Heart Is the Mat, My Bones Are the Ropes - by Nikki R. Leigh

The father of a multi-generational wrestling family is killed in action. His daughter takes it upon herself to transcend these limits—with the help of some alchemy and the support of a difficult relationship.

With a hell of a right hook for an opening line, "Wrestling families are cursed families," Leigh both captures the voice of a fully developed narrator and the fierce love that the members of this family have for one another. Each fight scene is an incredible blow by blow, and the conclusion delivers the emotional punch of a full-length novel.

Don't Make It Weird - by Red Lagoe

If you're a woman or have been raised as one, you've likely heard the line, "Girls can't play football." You also understand firsthand just how far that devastating logic reaches.

In "Don't Make It Weird," a young woman developing into physical adulthood goes to summer camp—and the boys playing football are having none of it. But when she finally gets to play, the protagonist has more on her side than anyone else thinks.

Testo Hunky, or; FTM Twunk Pounds XL Bear - by RW DeFaoite

Working out at the gym, a young trans man is approached by a stranger—his ideal type, big, burly, and hairy—asking for testosterone. When our protagonist gives this handsome stranger what he wants, things do not go according to plan.

"Testo Hunky" especially stands out as a short story for the fluid, bloody spectrum of attraction and why we do what we do when it comes to sex and love. DeFaoite's ending makes bile burn at the back of your throat, in all the best ways.

That Southern Spirit - by Mae Murray

If you're familiar with the name Mae Murray, you're likely also a fan of the anthology she compiled and edited, The Book of Queer Saints and its sequel. In Shredded, Murray likewise continues to push the boundaries of fitness and body horror with a story about a fat rodeo clown struggling with his sexual identity and body. When he goes to chemical support to get fit, things backfire horribly.

Murray's story in particular stands out as an artful example of the embodiment of body horror—when our bodies change in ways we could have never expected. When we become someone (or something) we never could have conceived of. And featuring a rodeo clown as the protagonist, Murray also holds up a mirror to the absurdity of the performance of health.

Flesh Advent - by D. Matthew Urban

One young man and a chance to win the big race—but the cost to his body and soul ushers in something far more sinister. As one of the short stories in Shredded that feels staunchly Weird, "Flesh Advent" celebrates the ever-presence of flesh in a way evocative of Cronenberg himself. Urban also evokes the viscerally horrifying and beautiful worlds of Clive Barker with lines like, "WEAR YOUR AGONIES LIKE A DIADEM."

Blood, Ash & Iron - by Charles Austin Muir

Written (and fictitiously compiled) as the last, surreal work of an author known for his bloody fiction, "Blood, Ash & Iron" tells a memoir-style story of the narrator's journey to get fit and invoke blood sorcery. Muir combines nihilism, wonder, and a flavor of cosmic horror that's almost impossible to pull away from.

The second story in Shredded that feels staunchly Weird, "Blood, Ash & Iron" is a fragmentary short story compiled by a fictitious author and pressman. Muir draws heavily from the work of Robert E. Howard, while also showing the flexibility inherent in the short story form. 

It All Comes Back - by Matthew Pritt

Instead of featuring an athlete in the prime of practice, Pritt asks, "What comes after?" The husband of a former school football player helps his husband cope with the lifelong physical damage he sustained while playing ball. And while there are some good days, there are others where the narrator fears for his life.

"It All Comes Back" is one of the most emotionally moving stories in the entire anthology, telling, in detail, the physical trauma athletes have to live with, well into adulthood. Pritt masterfully captures the heartbreak, challenge, and fear that come with being married to someone we may struggle to love sometimes. 

Avulsion - by Madeleine Sardin

A young woman, the child of a bonsai fanatic father, soon learns what it means when parents try to live through their children. Her passion is soon no longer hers, and becomes just another thing for her father to sculpt.

Controlled, curbed growth and the longing to be free are the driving themes of "Avulsion.” Sardin explores the body as a tool, as naught more than something for spectatorship—that should be sculpted and punished, according to demand. Sardin's protagonist is also incredibly well developed, entrapping the reader in her own suffering and bloody liberation.

Shredded: A Sports and Fitness Body Horror Anthology is both a love letter to the capabilities and manifestations of the human body, but also a shiver of fear. We are our bodies, and they are us—and there is so much experiential unknowable about this form we inhabit. 

If you've been on the fence about body horror in the movies, give this anthology a try. You'll find there's something much more beautiful (and bloody) lurking underneath.

I was sent a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

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Article written by Laura Kemmerer

Laura tuned into horror with an interest in what these movies and books can tell us about ourselves and what societies fear. She is most interested in horror focused around the supernatural, folklore, the occult, Gothic themes, haunted media, landscape as a character, and hauntology (focusing on lost or broken futures).