Catherine Dang’s sophomore effort, What Hunger, serves a feast that readers won’t soon forget—though they might question their appetite afterward. Following her debut Nice Girls (2021), Dang plunges deeper into the violent undercurrents of teenage girlhood, crafting a supernatural horror narrative that gnaws at the bones of generational trauma and immigrant identity with unflinching precision.
The Raw Meat of the Story
Set in the liminal space before high school begins, fourteen-year-old Ronny Nguyen finds herself suspended between childhood and adulthood, trapped in a suburban purgatory next to a highway with her Vietnamese immigrant parents, Me and Ba. When her beloved older brother Tommy—the family’s golden child and college-bound hope—dies in a car accident, Ronny’s world fractures completely. At her first high school party, when a boy violates her boundaries, something primal awakens within Ronny: an insatiable hunger for raw meat and a supernatural power that transforms her grief into something far more dangerous.
Dang weaves Vietnamese cultural memory through the family’s relationship with food, particularly meat as a symbol of survival and luxury. The narrative’s cannibalistic elements aren’t merely shock value—they’re deeply rooted in the family’s traumatic history, revealed through Me’s harrowing confession about surviving as a refugee on a deserted island. This generational trauma manifests in Ronny’s transformation, suggesting that survival instincts can be both inherited and horrific.
Hunger as Metaphor and Reality
The book’s title operates on multiple levels, encompassing Ronny’s literal craving for raw flesh, her hunger for agency in a world that diminishes her, and her family’s historical hunger shaped by war and displacement. Dang demonstrates remarkable skill in balancing the grotesque with the deeply human, never allowing the supernatural elements to overshadow the authentic emotional core.
The horror emerges organically from genuine teenage experiences: navigating sexual assault, feeling invisible beside a successful sibling, and struggling with cultural identity in suburban America. When Ronny bites off Michael Peterson’s ear at the party, it’s simultaneously a supernatural manifestation and a perfectly understandable response to violation.
Cultural Authenticity Meets Genre Innovation
Dang’s Vietnamese-American perspective brings fresh blood to the coming-of-age horror subgenre. The family dynamics feel authentic and lived-in, from Ba’s factory work exhaustion to Me’s quiet strength masked as passivity. The author particularly excels in depicting the generational divide between parents who survived genuine hardship and children who navigate different but equally real struggles in America.
Key strengths include:
Nuanced portrayal of immigrant family dynamics without stereotyping
Seamless integration of supernatural elements with realistic teenage experiences
Powerful use of food as cultural memory and survival mechanism
Unflinching examination of female rage and sexual assault recovery
However, the novel occasionally struggles with pacing in its middle section, where Ronny’s school experiences can feel repetitive before the narrative gains momentum toward its climactic revelations.
Writing Style: Sparse Yet Visceral
Dang writes with deceptive simplicity, employing a stripped-down prose style that mirrors Ronny’s direct, unfiltered perspective. The author demonstrates particular strength in sensory details—the texture of raw meat, the metallic taste of blood, the suffocating summer heat. These visceral descriptions create an uncomfortable intimacy between reader and protagonist that serves the horror elements effectively.
The dialogue feels authentic to both teenage speech patterns and the careful English of immigrant parents. Dang avoids both oversimplified ESL stereotypes and overly polished conversation, finding a middle ground that respects her characters’ complexity.
Comparative Context
What Hunger by Catherine Dang exists in conversation with several contemporary works exploring similar themes:
Jennifer’s Body (referenced in the marketing) for its feminist reclamation of monster narratives
Little Fires Everywhere for its exploration of suburban cultural dynamics
The House You Pass on the Way by Jacqueline Woodson for coming-of-age identity struggles
Fresh by Megan Stott for body horror and female agency
Readers who appreciated Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi or Pet by the same author will find similar themes of supernatural transformation as response to trauma.
Critical Assessment
While What Hunger by Catherine Dang succeeds admirably in its ambitious blend of horror and cultural exploration, some elements feel underdeveloped. The school setting, while realistic, occasionally stalls the narrative momentum. Additionally, certain supernatural rules remain frustratingly unclear—readers seeking hard magic systems may find themselves hungry for more explanation.
The novel’s greatest achievement lies in its refusal to offer easy resolutions. Ronny’s transformation isn’t cured or explained away; instead, Dang suggests that some hungers become permanent parts of who we are. This ambiguous ending elevates the work beyond simple monster narrative into something more psychologically complex.
Similar Reading Recommendations
For readers craving more culturally rich horror:
Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia
The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones
Ring Shout by P. Djèlí Clark
Tender Is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica
White Is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi
Final Verdict
What Hunger confirms Catherine Dang as a vital new voice in contemporary horror fiction. While not perfect, it’s a remarkably assured sophomore effort that tackles complex themes with intelligence and genuine emotional weight. The book succeeds in making readers simultaneously uncomfortable and deeply invested in Ronny’s journey toward understanding her own power.
Dang has crafted something rare: a horror novel that uses its supernatural elements to illuminate rather than obscure human truth. In our current cultural moment of examining intergenerational trauma and immigrant experiences, What Hunger offers a uniquely visceral contribution to these important conversations.
This is horror fiction that trusts its readers’ intelligence while delivering genuine scares—a combination that makes for genuinely satisfying reading, even when it leaves you slightly queasy. Recommended for mature readers who appreciate their coming-of-age stories with real teeth.