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Grace Byron’s ‘Herculine’ Confronts the “Trans Cult” Stereotype with Raw Horror
READ TIME: 3 MIN.
Grace Byron’s debut novel, ‘Herculine,’ arrives as one of the most anticipated books of 2025, galvanizing discussion about the portrayal of transgender communities and the cultural anxieties projected onto them. With its blend of horror, dark humor, and literary realism, ‘Herculine’ offers a layered response to the “trans cult” trope proliferated in popular and political discourse, particularly by anti-transgender activists. Rather than dismissing these anxieties outright, Byron’s novel engages them head-on, constructing a fictional world that both mirrors and parodies the fears that shape public perception of transgender spaces .
The protagonist of ‘Herculine’ is an unnamed young transgender woman living in New York, struggling with the fallout of religious trauma—including years of conversion therapy—and haunted by literal and metaphorical demons. After losing her job and feeling increasingly isolated, she is drawn into an all-trans girl commune in rural Indiana, invited by her ex-girlfriend Ash. The commune, named after 19th-century intersex memoirist Herculine Barbin, promises a utopian escape from cisnormative hostility and the daily grind of urban life .
But as the protagonist arrives at Herculine, the sense of belonging is quickly overshadowed by unease. The commune’s inhabitants speak in cryptic codes, and rituals reminiscent of cult behavior begin to emerge. Byron’s narrative leans into the horror genre’s motifs—disemboweled pigs, occult symbolism, communal paranoia—without losing sight of the psychological and social forces at work. The novel relentlessly interrogates the boundary between genuine solidarity and the dangers of insular, cloistered communities .
‘Herculine’ is acutely aware of the “trans cult” rhetoric deployed by anti-transgender campaigners, who claim—without evidence—that transgender communities are manipulative, predatory, or brainwashing. Byron’s approach is to exaggerate these anxieties to the point of absurdity, constructing a world where the cult-like features are both real and metaphorical. In doing so, the novel subverts the very foundation of the stereotype: rather than depicting transgender women as mindless followers or sinister leaders, it foregrounds their individuality, trauma, and desire for safety in a hostile world .
As Byron explained in interviews, the book is “about the search for true belonging—to be accepted not for your identity or status, but for your scars.” It questions what people are willing to sacrifice for a sense of safety and community, and whether any utopia can exist without its own inherent dangers. The horror of ‘Herculine’ is not only in its supernatural elements but in the commodification of trauma and the fragility of trust among marginalized groups .
Critical reception of ‘Herculine’ has focused on its ambitious blending of genres and its honest, sometimes abrasive, portrayal of transgender life. Reviewers have compared its unsettling atmosphere to works like ‘Manhunt’ and ‘Lord of the Flies,’ but noted that Byron’s voice is uniquely suited to the contemporary landscape of queer fiction. The book’s protagonist is complex and flawed—her struggles with faith, love, and self-image resonate with many readers familiar with the intersectional challenges facing transgender people today .
Byron’s willingness to depict the violence and psychological toll of transphobia, as well as the dangers that can arise even within “safe” spaces, underscores the lived reality of many LGBTQ+ individuals. The horror, in this sense, arises as much from external threats as from the internalized fears and traumas that shape the transgender experience. Yet, there is humor and resilience throughout—the book “brings enough humor to the proceedings to prevent the horror from becoming too all-consuming,” according to Publishers Weekly .
‘Herculine’ arrives at a time when debates over transgender rights and visibility are at a fever pitch, and misinformation about transgender communities is widespread. By satirizing the idea of a “trans cult,” Byron’s novel exposes the absurdity of such fears while acknowledging the real challenges and dangers faced by transgender people seeking solidarity and safety .
Ultimately, ‘Herculine’ is not only a horror story but a meditation on belonging, trauma, and the complexities of building community under siege. It refuses easy answers, instead demanding that readers confront the anxieties—social, psychological, and political—that shape our understanding of transgender lives. As such, Byron’s work is likely to continue provoking thought and discussion far beyond the circles of genre fiction or queer literature.