Chlorine is an astonishing debut: unsettling and immersive, wholly unpredictable and and a wild ride start to finish. The novel is an unfurling examination of power and obsession in competitive swimming, observing how strives for perfection consume and destroy us. While the book is billed as body horror, most of the story is a coming-of-age story that follows Ren Yu who needs to become a mermaid, whatever it takes. Her journey twists through the growing pains of high school with the rigid thirst of competitive swimming, all the while suggesting that something might be corroding Ren underneath the surface.

This book is basically a checklist of content warnings: racism, sexism, rape and sexual assault, medical violence, predatory behaviour, eating disorders, and self-harm including a graphic self-mutilation scene. There were points where my body was flinching, my hand over my mouth. This is NOT for everyone – but the writing is absolutely gorgeous. Lyrical and insightful, fully immersing you into the story.

There’s a point in the book—you’ll know when you’ve crossed it—where the story makes a flip from being a coming-of-age story with a little horror into full-out body horror. For me, the ending doesn’t stick the landing. There’s too much of a rush to the end; the stakes could’ve had more structure to them, or the horror elements introduced more incrementally. As it stands, the ending is like a drop into the deep end: a shock, but not rewarding.

Point still stands: this is a raucous debut. Truly one of the wildest things I’ve read lately. I’m always drawn to swimming stories, and Song’s firsthand experience with competitive swimming shines through. The language sticks to you, so meticulous and shimmering. A brazen achievement. If you have a stomach for bloody body horror, this might be for you. If sutures are a turn-off, I’d recommend passing on this one because the content warnings at the beginning of the book do NOT play around.