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A review by ghostboyreads
Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova
4.0
"He wipes his tears. Like he shouldn't be crying. But he cries more. Not loud. Ghostlike. Heavy. Like his pain isn't only from the bite. Like its deeper. Marrow deep. Eat, he squeaks."
Monstrilio is wildly refreshing, deeply confusing and utterly unique exploration of grief presented as part monster story, part family drama. It's said that this is horror but it's more... Horror-lite. It's not here to frighten us into nights without sleep, rather, Monstrilio aims to disgust us with its unflinching and fearless portrayal of grief and loss. This certainly isn't the typical monster story that any of us horror fans are used to, this is truly something more, something magical and enrapturing. Monstrilio is pure brilliance. This is such a lonely, eviscerating novel, it's so, so raw and evocative. Split into four different POVs, Monstrilio so tenderly explores anguish from so many different angles, this makes the story move a lot slower, sure, but, here, the wait is more than worth the reward.
Reading Monstrilio is like watching the world crumble to dust across the passing centuries, it's a delicately unfurling, horrific beast of a story, and its so damn beautiful, so gorgeous and incredibly sad. There's no doubt about it, this is an emotionally taxing novel - its nauseating, refusing entirely to shy away from anything, instead opting to expose us to the grotesque reality of death. It's one of those rare novels that bites a chunk out of your heart, so it can hold on to it forever. The tradeoff here, is that this is not a scary novel, it's so far removed from your traditional horror tale, while yes, this is loosely, a story about a monster - it's also an obliteration of the soul, a searing, shocking, brutal family drama with the occasional sprinkling of horror throughout.
Monstrilio is wildly refreshing, deeply confusing and utterly unique exploration of grief presented as part monster story, part family drama. It's said that this is horror but it's more... Horror-lite. It's not here to frighten us into nights without sleep, rather, Monstrilio aims to disgust us with its unflinching and fearless portrayal of grief and loss. This certainly isn't the typical monster story that any of us horror fans are used to, this is truly something more, something magical and enrapturing. Monstrilio is pure brilliance. This is such a lonely, eviscerating novel, it's so, so raw and evocative. Split into four different POVs, Monstrilio so tenderly explores anguish from so many different angles, this makes the story move a lot slower, sure, but, here, the wait is more than worth the reward.
Reading Monstrilio is like watching the world crumble to dust across the passing centuries, it's a delicately unfurling, horrific beast of a story, and its so damn beautiful, so gorgeous and incredibly sad. There's no doubt about it, this is an emotionally taxing novel - its nauseating, refusing entirely to shy away from anything, instead opting to expose us to the grotesque reality of death. It's one of those rare novels that bites a chunk out of your heart, so it can hold on to it forever. The tradeoff here, is that this is not a scary novel, it's so far removed from your traditional horror tale, while yes, this is loosely, a story about a monster - it's also an obliteration of the soul, a searing, shocking, brutal family drama with the occasional sprinkling of horror throughout.
"Night is when we're hungriest. And hunger can be magnificent. I stare at the half-washed dishes. I fight to push the dread out. I pretend my time as Monstrilio is hazy. Muffled sounds and blurred colours. I say I remember warmth. But I don't say I miss my fur. I don't say I'm hungry because my hunger is what makes everyone scared. They are happy to believe I forgot how they maimed me."
God, it's just so crushing. Perhaps this is one of, if not, the most memorable and shocking family dramas out there. So, so wonderfully, perfectly written, so strange, so bleak. It's a struggle, to even define a book as weird, but, brilliant as this. Just because this isn't strictly a horror novel, it doesn't mean we're spared, well, anything really. It's full to the brim with horrific, vile, gruesome and graphic scenes, enough to churn the stomachs of even the most ardent horror fans. Monstrilio is truly, an impressive feat, a remarkable and insanely fantastic debut. This is an unforgettable novel, there really is not much out there that's like this.
"In her fantasies - is it too morbid to call them fantasies? She doesn't think so. In her fantasies, her son died in a shopping mall, one of the big ones in Mexico City, because in a mall there is an audience, and she wanted an audience but thought dying in the street was too sordid."