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Monstrilio
A literary horror debut about a boy who transforms into a monster, a monster who tries to be a man, and the people who love him in every form he takes
Grieving mother Magos cuts out a piece of her deceased eleven-year-old son Santiago’s lung. Acting on fierce maternal instinct and the dubious logic of an old folktale, she nurtures the lung until it gains sentience, growing into the carnivorous little Monstrilio she keeps hidden within the walls of her family’s decaying Mexico City estate. Eventually, Monstrilio begins to resemble the Santiago he once was, but his innate impulses—though curbed by his biological and chosen family’s communal care—threaten to destroy this fragile second chance at life.
A thought-provoking meditation on grief, acceptance, and the monstrous sides of love and loyalty, Gerardo Sámano Córdova blends bold imagination and evocative prose with deep emotional rigor. Told in four acts that span the globe from Brooklyn to Berlin, Monstrilio offers, with uncanny clarity, a cathartic and precise portrait of being human.
Grieving mother Magos cuts out a piece of her deceased eleven-year-old son Santiago’s lung. Acting on fierce maternal instinct and the dubious logic of an old folktale, she nurtures the lung until it gains sentience, growing into the carnivorous little Monstrilio she keeps hidden within the walls of her family’s decaying Mexico City estate. Eventually, Monstrilio begins to resemble the Santiago he once was, but his innate impulses—though curbed by his biological and chosen family’s communal care—threaten to destroy this fragile second chance at life.
A thought-provoking meditation on grief, acceptance, and the monstrous sides of love and loyalty, Gerardo Sámano Córdova blends bold imagination and evocative prose with deep emotional rigor. Told in four acts that span the globe from Brooklyn to Berlin, Monstrilio offers, with uncanny clarity, a cathartic and precise portrait of being human.
336 pages, Hardcover
First published March 7, 2023
About the author
Gerardo Sámano Córdova
1 book761 followersGerardo Sámano Córdova is a writer and artist from Mexico City. He holds an MFA in fiction from the University of Michigan. He has studied at Bread Loaf as a work/study scholar and at Tin House. His work has appeared in The Common, Ninth Letter, Passages North, and Chicago Quarterly Review. He’s also been known to draw little creatures.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 3,713 reviews
October 9, 2023
so sad. so stunning.
June 5, 2024
‘One believes the stupidest things in grief,’ Gerardo Sámano Córdova writes in his debut novel, the literary horror Monstrilio. There are few griefs more shattering than the death of a child and one might do the strangest things in grief to try and recover that loss, often with more sadness to follow. Take Maud Gonne for instance, the Irish revolutionary and long time love interest of poet W.B. Yeats, who reunited with the father of her deceased son and had sex on his coffin thinking it would bring him back (and the sadness that the conceived child, Iseult, was never considered her daughter after and left out of Maud’s will). Or look how this sort of grief arrives in fiction, such as Pet Sematary by King or even the reincarnation of dead body parts in Frankenstein. Not unlike the latter, Monstrilio involves life being created from dead organs—a lung in this case—and the subsequent struggles of parenting this creation. Luckily for Monstrilio, or M as he is later called, he is loved despite his ravenous appetite for flesh (working his way up from cats to whole humans over the course of the novel), and over the four perspectives in the novel Córdova explores ideas of family, both found family and blood lineage. A slow burn of a novel offering an excellent blend of horror, folktale and examinations of queer identities, Monstrilio confronts ideas of grief, family, sexuality and, ultimately, that we cannot hide our true selves.
‘This thing—an actual fucking monster—was loved.’
For a horror novel, the tone in Monstrilio tends towards tender affection as the story spirals away from a shocking opening scene when Magos cuts open her dead son and removes his only lung. Born with only one lung, Santiago was not expected to live but made it 11 years before his death. Returning home to Mexico City, she hears an urban legend of a woman feeding the heart of a dead girl until it grew up into a beautiful man and undertakes a similar experiment. Amidst the grief of the deceased, Monstrilio is born and, despite some initial shock and fear, those around him decide to love him no matter what. Like a shockwave from the blast occurring in a particularly tragic scene of grief, the story is pulled from Mago’s perspective into 3 subsequent perspectives over the years: Lena, the best friend; Joseph, the ex-husband and father; and finally Monstrilio himself. It is a stylistic choice that (mostly) works and allows us to see how these events radiate outward across many lives.
‘They are happy to believe I forget how they maimed me.’
Grief is shown as arriving in many forms. For Mago, there is magical thinking (which turns out to actually work) and action, whereas for Joseph he seems to struggle with his own inability to grieve how he, or Mago, feels he should. Which brings tension between them.
But we also see how it affects those around us, such as Lena who allows her judgement to be clouded by the wills of others and performs a surgery that will alter Monstrilio forever. M’s perspective being saved for last is not just because it is the best section of the novel and wraps up all the disparate elements into a tight punch of a finale, but because M’s feeling and needs are constantly being pushed aside to fit the ideas of what the other character’s think they need (this is most evident in the surgery aspect). This makes for an excellent look at the way the push and pull of families affects everyone, especially the younger ones caught up in it, and is made more ominous and chilling through the lens of horror.
‘Hunger can be magnificent.’
Which also nudges the theme of the body that is always present in the text. On one hand we have the fact that M is quite literally a monster created out of a dead child’s lung, yet despite his form he is no less a part of the family or loved like a child. But in later portions of the novel he transforms into a human form which helps him disguise who he is inside. And what he hungers for cannot be hidden. Hunger is a quite a dynamic symbol here, being both his literal hunger but also as an investigation into sexuality. The majority of the primary characters are queer, with Joseph marrying Paul after his divorce from Mago which is perhaps a hidden “hunger” that he was finally able to reveal, but it does all sort of touch on the idea that queer sexuality is often othered or seen as unnatural despite being very normal and natural, especially to the person having those emotions. Which parallels M’s feelings about hunger, and in the latter half of the novel we see how hiding oneself for the benefit of “polite society” and whatnot doesn’t mean you don’t still feel this way. Trying to pass myself off as totally straight was awful and I could take the teasing for like things that were socially-coded as for women (I will not apologize for my vast love of Beyonce or the color pink) but to feel like I couldn’t just be like no I’m pansexual and nonbinary and that doesn’t change the me you know but I’d like to not have to feel I have to keep that hidden. Sure, being a horror novel where this is quite literally a flesh-eating monster muddies the waters here but you get the point. The parallel of M eating flesh and Mago being a performance artist that eats the written word is quite charming as well, if a bit on the nose.
I do love how this fits in with a lot of the more literary horror of BIPOC and queer voices such as Stephen Graham Jones, Carmen Maria Machado or Alison Rumfitt (to name just a few) that are using the genre in subversive ways to really discuss themes of identity and expanding the genre to the folklore of other cultures. I think there is a lot going on in this book that is really great, however at times it felt in some ways far longer than it needed to be (this would absolutely destroy me if it was a crisp novella) but then the individual sections almost felt undercooked. At times it seemed like two books being blended into one and the cracks show on occasion. And while I like a direct prose, there were times this felt like pulling the story forward along a screenplay where it’s assumed the emotion will be infused later by the actors instead of actually injecting emotion into the scenes. Not that this was devoid of emotion—there is a particularly amazing scene at the beginning of crushing grief juxtaposed with a rather slapstick-seeming struggle beforehand that made me think YES, Gerardo Sámano Córdova can really bring it!—but the novel is perhaps too up close to the details and loses its own context, like a photo of a face so close up that the overall impression of the face gets lost. That said, I’m over-emphasizing here to try and pin down what sort of felt like an itch distracting me the whole time and for a debut this is still quite good. But I know he can tighten it up and I will definitely be back for his next book.
Monstrilio is an impressive literary horror that takes us around the world and deep into family dynamics. Gerardo Sámano Córdova certainly has something special here and I love the infusion of Mexican folkhorror with this rather tender examination of family and grief. Admittedly the individual sections are a mixed bag, but it all pulls together at the end for a rather memorable, shocking and moving experience.
4/5
‘This thing—an actual fucking monster—was loved.’
For a horror novel, the tone in Monstrilio tends towards tender affection as the story spirals away from a shocking opening scene when Magos cuts open her dead son and removes his only lung. Born with only one lung, Santiago was not expected to live but made it 11 years before his death. Returning home to Mexico City, she hears an urban legend of a woman feeding the heart of a dead girl until it grew up into a beautiful man and undertakes a similar experiment. Amidst the grief of the deceased, Monstrilio is born and, despite some initial shock and fear, those around him decide to love him no matter what. Like a shockwave from the blast occurring in a particularly tragic scene of grief, the story is pulled from Mago’s perspective into 3 subsequent perspectives over the years: Lena, the best friend; Joseph, the ex-husband and father; and finally Monstrilio himself. It is a stylistic choice that (mostly) works and allows us to see how these events radiate outward across many lives.
‘They are happy to believe I forget how they maimed me.’
Grief is shown as arriving in many forms. For Mago, there is magical thinking (which turns out to actually work) and action, whereas for Joseph he seems to struggle with his own inability to grieve how he, or Mago, feels he should. Which brings tension between them.
‘I wanted him to snap, to finally and absolutely lose it. To break. He was withering. To wither is not the same as to break; to break is to have pieces to put back together, and to wither is to dry up, to wilt, to lose bone, to die, and death is the most boring.’
But we also see how it affects those around us, such as Lena who allows her judgement to be clouded by the wills of others and performs a surgery that will alter Monstrilio forever. M’s perspective being saved for last is not just because it is the best section of the novel and wraps up all the disparate elements into a tight punch of a finale, but because M’s feeling and needs are constantly being pushed aside to fit the ideas of what the other character’s think they need (this is most evident in the surgery aspect). This makes for an excellent look at the way the push and pull of families affects everyone, especially the younger ones caught up in it, and is made more ominous and chilling through the lens of horror.
‘Hunger can be magnificent.’
Which also nudges the theme of the body that is always present in the text. On one hand we have the fact that M is quite literally a monster created out of a dead child’s lung, yet despite his form he is no less a part of the family or loved like a child. But in later portions of the novel he transforms into a human form which helps him disguise who he is inside. And what he hungers for cannot be hidden. Hunger is a quite a dynamic symbol here, being both his literal hunger but also as an investigation into sexuality. The majority of the primary characters are queer, with Joseph marrying Paul after his divorce from Mago which is perhaps a hidden “hunger” that he was finally able to reveal, but it does all sort of touch on the idea that queer sexuality is often othered or seen as unnatural despite being very normal and natural, especially to the person having those emotions. Which parallels M’s feelings about hunger, and in the latter half of the novel we see how hiding oneself for the benefit of “polite society” and whatnot doesn’t mean you don’t still feel this way. Trying to pass myself off as totally straight was awful and I could take the teasing for like things that were socially-coded as for women (I will not apologize for my vast love of Beyonce or the color pink) but to feel like I couldn’t just be like no I’m pansexual and nonbinary and that doesn’t change the me you know but I’d like to not have to feel I have to keep that hidden. Sure, being a horror novel where this is quite literally a flesh-eating monster muddies the waters here but you get the point. The parallel of M eating flesh and Mago being a performance artist that eats the written word is quite charming as well, if a bit on the nose.
I do love how this fits in with a lot of the more literary horror of BIPOC and queer voices such as Stephen Graham Jones, Carmen Maria Machado or Alison Rumfitt (to name just a few) that are using the genre in subversive ways to really discuss themes of identity and expanding the genre to the folklore of other cultures. I think there is a lot going on in this book that is really great, however at times it felt in some ways far longer than it needed to be (this would absolutely destroy me if it was a crisp novella) but then the individual sections almost felt undercooked. At times it seemed like two books being blended into one and the cracks show on occasion. And while I like a direct prose, there were times this felt like pulling the story forward along a screenplay where it’s assumed the emotion will be infused later by the actors instead of actually injecting emotion into the scenes. Not that this was devoid of emotion—there is a particularly amazing scene at the beginning of crushing grief juxtaposed with a rather slapstick-seeming struggle beforehand that made me think YES, Gerardo Sámano Córdova can really bring it!—but the novel is perhaps too up close to the details and loses its own context, like a photo of a face so close up that the overall impression of the face gets lost. That said, I’m over-emphasizing here to try and pin down what sort of felt like an itch distracting me the whole time and for a debut this is still quite good. But I know he can tighten it up and I will definitely be back for his next book.
Monstrilio is an impressive literary horror that takes us around the world and deep into family dynamics. Gerardo Sámano Córdova certainly has something special here and I love the infusion of Mexican folkhorror with this rather tender examination of family and grief. Admittedly the individual sections are a mixed bag, but it all pulls together at the end for a rather memorable, shocking and moving experience.
4/5
December 22, 2023
Phenomenal!!!
A grieving mother cuts out a piece of her recently deceased son’s lung, tends to it, and it grows into a monster that she then raises as her own.
This was a deeply moving, beautifully written portrayal of grief that had me tearing up quite a few times. The characters were all so fleshed out and real- we read from 4 different POV’s, and I honestly could have read an entire book from each one. My only gripe is I wish it was a bit longer, but that’s because I didn’t want it to end 😂😭
A grieving mother cuts out a piece of her recently deceased son’s lung, tends to it, and it grows into a monster that she then raises as her own.
This was a deeply moving, beautifully written portrayal of grief that had me tearing up quite a few times. The characters were all so fleshed out and real- we read from 4 different POV’s, and I honestly could have read an entire book from each one. My only gripe is I wish it was a bit longer, but that’s because I didn’t want it to end 😂😭
July 23, 2024
A gorgeous novel about the monstrous shapes grief can take and the monster it can make of all of us if we let it.
Strange, bloody, slow, and sad - Monstrilio takes us on a twisting journey with Magos and Joseph, grieving the death of their eleven-year-old son Santiago. Their unconditional love, unbroken even in death, causing a series of unexpected and unfortunate events and, ultimately, the creation of M - a little monster with a ravenous hunger for flesh.
Told in four parts (with four perspectives) with an overwhelmingly queer cast of characters, quiet and introspective storytelling, and lots of gore - Monstrilio will make you stop everything and take a deep shuddering breath.
I've never read anything quite like it.
Thank you to Netgalley and HighBridge Audio for the ALC.
Trigger/Content Warnings: child death, blood, gore, body horror, murder, animal death
Video review here: https://youtu.be/dVOamSxBvnk
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You can join our book club over on Patreon...
PBB Book Club
Strange, bloody, slow, and sad - Monstrilio takes us on a twisting journey with Magos and Joseph, grieving the death of their eleven-year-old son Santiago. Their unconditional love, unbroken even in death, causing a series of unexpected and unfortunate events and, ultimately, the creation of M - a little monster with a ravenous hunger for flesh.
Told in four parts (with four perspectives) with an overwhelmingly queer cast of characters, quiet and introspective storytelling, and lots of gore - Monstrilio will make you stop everything and take a deep shuddering breath.
I've never read anything quite like it.
Thank you to Netgalley and HighBridge Audio for the ALC.
Trigger/Content Warnings: child death, blood, gore, body horror, murder, animal death
Video review here: https://youtu.be/dVOamSxBvnk
You can find me on...
Youtube | Instagram | TikTok
You can join our book club over on Patreon...
PBB Book Club
June 18, 2023
I don't think I understood the power of prose until I read this book. This novel is divided into 4 parts: Magos, Lena, Joseph, and Monstrilio. You'd expect the perspectives to shift as we watch how they experience the loss of Santiago and learn to live with a monster. But the prose doesn't change for any perspective. Everyone very straightforwardly recounts the same story.
This was supposed to be a book about grief, but the writing holds you at such arms length, you don't feel the weight of the grieving process. I feel it a bit from Magos' perspective but it evaporates as soon as Lena's takes over. And where's the inference! The implication! One user said this story reads like a screenplay and how true that is. I found myself wondering why this story was even told via this medium if it wasn't going to take advantage of the freedom this medium allows. There's no lyricism, no rhythm, no particular care to show what each of these characters is going through.
Since the writing is so straightforward, I don't finish this book caring about any of the characters. Instead, I find myself confused about their relationships, confused about their lack of reactions to Monstrilio, and confused about what it is they even love about him. There is a large time jump in the middle of the story where all the characters change immensely. The readers don't get to witness this change, rather we enter Joseph's POV with a new cast, a teenage Monstrilio, and a completely new story. This makes it even harder to feel any connection with this cast when they've all gone through something wholly separate from the audience.
The blurb is so, so misleading. I was really excited for a literary horror novel that used grief to exacerbate the horrific nature of it, but this was a coming of age story that occasionally featured fangs. I won't say I'm disappointed because I would've never realized what I like about character specific writing until I read this book, but I am befuddled by the choices made in this one.
This was supposed to be a book about grief, but the writing holds you at such arms length, you don't feel the weight of the grieving process. I feel it a bit from Magos' perspective but it evaporates as soon as Lena's takes over. And where's the inference! The implication! One user said this story reads like a screenplay and how true that is. I found myself wondering why this story was even told via this medium if it wasn't going to take advantage of the freedom this medium allows. There's no lyricism, no rhythm, no particular care to show what each of these characters is going through.
Since the writing is so straightforward, I don't finish this book caring about any of the characters. Instead, I find myself confused about their relationships, confused about their lack of reactions to Monstrilio, and confused about what it is they even love about him. There is a large time jump in the middle of the story where all the characters change immensely. The readers don't get to witness this change, rather we enter Joseph's POV with a new cast, a teenage Monstrilio, and a completely new story. This makes it even harder to feel any connection with this cast when they've all gone through something wholly separate from the audience.
The blurb is so, so misleading. I was really excited for a literary horror novel that used grief to exacerbate the horrific nature of it, but this was a coming of age story that occasionally featured fangs. I won't say I'm disappointed because I would've never realized what I like about character specific writing until I read this book, but I am befuddled by the choices made in this one.
July 7, 2023
Conceptually I was reminded of Frankenstein in Baghdad by Ahmed Saadawi, another novel where dead organs come to life, but the emotional range, and the lyricism, and the political ambition of Saadawi's novel feel more successful than Monstrilio, to my way of reading. I tend to read at a technical level, especially when something is bothering me about the storytelling. It felt to me, as I read along, that the first-person, present tense used for most of Monstrilio limits the emotional range available to the author. Saadawi's novel in contrast is written in third person, past tense, a choice that allows the narrative voice to become hard and real when that's what the story needs, and at other times to soar lyrically. Monstrilio reads almost like a screenplay. I'm sure many readers will prefer this direct style but the choice left me less than satisfied, where I never quite felt the grief or the horror the way I wanted to.
March 20, 2023
Monstrilio was an incredible read from start to finish! There is a reason why this book has received such positive feedback. It's a strange, twisting, layered story about loss, grief, horror, and unconditional love. It reminded me of Gremlins meets Edward Scissorhands at times, but it was truly unique. It was quite disturbing from the start, which drew me in immediately. All of the characters are so well developed that by the end of the book, I felt like I knew them intimately. The story is told from four perspectives: the mother's, the friend's, the father's, and 'M.'
I don't want to say too much because I went in pretty unaware of the plot in detail, and it kind of blew my mind. It's unlike anything I've ever read before, and it made me feel a wide range of emotions. Be warned: it can be quite gory and grisly at times. It was a little bit of slow burn at first (which I did not mind) but I couldn't put it down and finished it in about a day! Thank you so much to Zando Projects and Netgalley for this ARC; after reading this and Patricia Wants to Cuddle, I'm starting to get really excited for the books Zando is putting out these days.
I don't want to say too much because I went in pretty unaware of the plot in detail, and it kind of blew my mind. It's unlike anything I've ever read before, and it made me feel a wide range of emotions. Be warned: it can be quite gory and grisly at times. It was a little bit of slow burn at first (which I did not mind) but I couldn't put it down and finished it in about a day! Thank you so much to Zando Projects and Netgalley for this ARC; after reading this and Patricia Wants to Cuddle, I'm starting to get really excited for the books Zando is putting out these days.
January 20, 2023
I loved every single second of this book.
Monstrilio is a wildly unique queer literary debut about grief, loneliness, love, and sacrifice. It is labelled as a horror, but I think I'd categorize it as closer to horror adjacent. There are absolutely horrific, violent, graphic elements to the story, but the purpose was not meant to frighten, rather to tell a vulnerable story about a family formed by grief.
Monstrilio is about a family living in Mexico City who loses their young son, Santiago. After he dies, his mother cuts open his body and removes a portion of his lung, which she keeps in a jar. She later starts to feed this piece of lung, and it turns into a monster whom they name Monstrilio.
The book is told through the point of view of 4 different characters: Santiago's parents, their best friend Lena, and the final POV is from Monstrilio himself. Each different point of view slowly reveals more about the relationships and motivations of all the characters, and it was compelling to see how each of them handled Santiago's death and Monstrilios creation.
In addition to the book being split into 4 sections with each point of view, there is also a lot of change in scenery, which I really enjoyed. The story starts in Mexico, then moves to New York, Berlin, back to New York, and ends in Mexico. I can tell the author has spent time in most (if not all) of these places, as the accounts of the food and the beauty and even the air in each location felt so honest.
The writing was gorgeous. Lush and gripping and descriptive without being distracting. I highlighted so many quotes. I was truly impressed with this debut and cannot wait to see what else this author comes out with!
*Thank you to Netgalley and Zando for the gifted ARC in exchange for an honest review*
Monstrilio is a wildly unique queer literary debut about grief, loneliness, love, and sacrifice. It is labelled as a horror, but I think I'd categorize it as closer to horror adjacent. There are absolutely horrific, violent, graphic elements to the story, but the purpose was not meant to frighten, rather to tell a vulnerable story about a family formed by grief.
Monstrilio is about a family living in Mexico City who loses their young son, Santiago. After he dies, his mother cuts open his body and removes a portion of his lung, which she keeps in a jar. She later starts to feed this piece of lung, and it turns into a monster whom they name Monstrilio.
The book is told through the point of view of 4 different characters: Santiago's parents, their best friend Lena, and the final POV is from Monstrilio himself. Each different point of view slowly reveals more about the relationships and motivations of all the characters, and it was compelling to see how each of them handled Santiago's death and Monstrilios creation.
In addition to the book being split into 4 sections with each point of view, there is also a lot of change in scenery, which I really enjoyed. The story starts in Mexico, then moves to New York, Berlin, back to New York, and ends in Mexico. I can tell the author has spent time in most (if not all) of these places, as the accounts of the food and the beauty and even the air in each location felt so honest.
The writing was gorgeous. Lush and gripping and descriptive without being distracting. I highlighted so many quotes. I was truly impressed with this debut and cannot wait to see what else this author comes out with!
*Thank you to Netgalley and Zando for the gifted ARC in exchange for an honest review*
April 25, 2023
I wanted to eat them all.
I must have had the wrong expectations going into Monstrillo, especially it being listed as horror made me expect a book that aims at scaring, disturbing, unsettling but having finished it now, I unfortunately feel underwhelmed. I don't want to say I was disappointed, but I was in a way since the story of a boy, raised from the one lung of his parents' deceased son, a little human eating monster who was made into a human who returned to being a monster, didn't really hit me hard enough. This book is more about grief than anything else, and the crazy things we do while it has us in its grip.
The narration is divided into four parts; mother Magos, father Joseph, family friend Lena and finally M and the whole ordeal is rather tragic than terrifying. I have a soft spot for stories of beings who try to defy their natures and become conform, become someone else, and yet what I was offered wasn't enough for me, it was almost boring to me. I wish the whole story were narrated from the point of view of M, that would have been more exciting.
I also can't warm up to books that don't have dialogue markers. It would have been a star less if one chapter wasn't set in Berlin.
I must have had the wrong expectations going into Monstrillo, especially it being listed as horror made me expect a book that aims at scaring, disturbing, unsettling but having finished it now, I unfortunately feel underwhelmed. I don't want to say I was disappointed, but I was in a way since the story of a boy, raised from the one lung of his parents' deceased son, a little human eating monster who was made into a human who returned to being a monster, didn't really hit me hard enough. This book is more about grief than anything else, and the crazy things we do while it has us in its grip.
The narration is divided into four parts; mother Magos, father Joseph, family friend Lena and finally M and the whole ordeal is rather tragic than terrifying. I have a soft spot for stories of beings who try to defy their natures and become conform, become someone else, and yet what I was offered wasn't enough for me, it was almost boring to me. I wish the whole story were narrated from the point of view of M, that would have been more exciting.
I also can't warm up to books that don't have dialogue markers. It would have been a star less if one chapter wasn't set in Berlin.
September 18, 2024
Dark and hauntingly beautiful, the grotesque Monstrolio has onion layered themes. At its most accessible core, belonging, being human, grief, the fierceness of a mother's love and acceptance. This incredibly unique debut by Cordova has similar themes and tropes to Frankenstein and Kafka's Metamorphosis. I highly recommend this captivating and disturbing tale and hope to read more Cordova in the near future. -Lisanne
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December 24, 2023Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova
Other Books I Enjoyed by This Author: debut novel
Affiliate Link:https://bookshop.org/a/7576/978163893...
Release Date: March 7th, 2023
General Genre: Horror, Literary, Magical Realism, Supernatural
Sub-Genre/Themes: Grief, loss, family, marriage, LBGTQ+, superstition/folklore, magical transformation, power of love, monsters, health issues, violence, motherhood, parenting, desperation, sexuality/kinks
Writing Style: Stylistically complex, character-driven, whimsical, humorous, gruesome, thought-provoking, multiple POVs
What You Need to Know: This is a highly emotional story and the hardest part to get through was the beginning, a gruesome scene carried out so unflinchingly on a child who has passed away. That’s why I put it aside when I started it at the beginning of the year because I wasn’t prepared for that or what else was to come.
Also, there is a surprising amount of sex and kink in this story which didn’t detract from my enjoyment and I understand its use for the character-development but it might be a distraction or unwanted detour for others.
My Reading Experience: A married couple is grieving over the loss of their eleven-year-old son, Santiago. The mother, Magos, in an act of desperation, cuts out a piece of her son’s lung from his dead body and saves it in a jar. Later, Magos is told by a housekeeper that according to Mexican folklore, the memento mori can be “fed” so that it can “grow” and transform.
It took me a minute to get accustomed to Córdova’s unique writing style. It’s a bit transgressive in its approach; not a straightforward or traditional means of communicating emotions or writing dialog, especially notable with the Magos, the mother. Once I got accustomed to the storytelling style, I found my way with it. Told through multiple POVs, I enjoyed how the author stretches the reader’s understanding of culture and challenges the audience to empathize with the characters even though they make questionable decisions. The way Magos thinks back on memories of her family while Santiago was still alive is profoundly intimate and emotional. I’d say I was in a state of heightened emotions the entire time I was reading this book. It doesn’t come in waves during certain scenes, there was an overall emotional awareness for the duration of my reading experience.
The psychological horror elements are thought-provoking, while the “creature-feature” aspect provides gruesome violence and unpredictability. As far as debuts go, this is an exceptional introduction. Córdova has a unique and unusual voice that sets him apart from the rest.
Final Recommendation: Monstrilio is a quirky, emotional little artichoke of a novel. Readers peel away layer after layer to get to the heart of the tender thistle. The prose is stylistically lyrical which can prevent full emotional investment but once readers find the rhythm of the story, it’s a beautiful journey. One hell of a debut.
Comps: Starve Acre by Andrew Michael Hurley
Baby Teeth by Zoje Stage, The Push by Ashley Audrain
Other Books I Enjoyed by This Author: debut novel
Affiliate Link:https://bookshop.org/a/7576/978163893...
Release Date: March 7th, 2023
General Genre: Horror, Literary, Magical Realism, Supernatural
Sub-Genre/Themes: Grief, loss, family, marriage, LBGTQ+, superstition/folklore, magical transformation, power of love, monsters, health issues, violence, motherhood, parenting, desperation, sexuality/kinks
Writing Style: Stylistically complex, character-driven, whimsical, humorous, gruesome, thought-provoking, multiple POVs
What You Need to Know: This is a highly emotional story and the hardest part to get through was the beginning, a gruesome scene carried out so unflinchingly on a child who has passed away. That’s why I put it aside when I started it at the beginning of the year because I wasn’t prepared for that or what else was to come.
Also, there is a surprising amount of sex and kink in this story which didn’t detract from my enjoyment and I understand its use for the character-development but it might be a distraction or unwanted detour for others.
My Reading Experience: A married couple is grieving over the loss of their eleven-year-old son, Santiago. The mother, Magos, in an act of desperation, cuts out a piece of her son’s lung from his dead body and saves it in a jar. Later, Magos is told by a housekeeper that according to Mexican folklore, the memento mori can be “fed” so that it can “grow” and transform.
It took me a minute to get accustomed to Córdova’s unique writing style. It’s a bit transgressive in its approach; not a straightforward or traditional means of communicating emotions or writing dialog, especially notable with the Magos, the mother. Once I got accustomed to the storytelling style, I found my way with it. Told through multiple POVs, I enjoyed how the author stretches the reader’s understanding of culture and challenges the audience to empathize with the characters even though they make questionable decisions. The way Magos thinks back on memories of her family while Santiago was still alive is profoundly intimate and emotional. I’d say I was in a state of heightened emotions the entire time I was reading this book. It doesn’t come in waves during certain scenes, there was an overall emotional awareness for the duration of my reading experience.
The psychological horror elements are thought-provoking, while the “creature-feature” aspect provides gruesome violence and unpredictability. As far as debuts go, this is an exceptional introduction. Córdova has a unique and unusual voice that sets him apart from the rest.
Final Recommendation: Monstrilio is a quirky, emotional little artichoke of a novel. Readers peel away layer after layer to get to the heart of the tender thistle. The prose is stylistically lyrical which can prevent full emotional investment but once readers find the rhythm of the story, it’s a beautiful journey. One hell of a debut.
Comps: Starve Acre by Andrew Michael Hurley
Baby Teeth by Zoje Stage, The Push by Ashley Audrain
February 25, 2023
I need 7-10 business days to process my feelings.
Thank you for your understanding.
Thank you for your understanding.
November 16, 2022
It took me a little while to get into this, the first section is slow and heavy laden with grief. But I'm glad I stuck with it because it turns into something very different. This is, after all, one of the common horror tropes, beginning with the death of a child and then following the parents in mourning. It is about change, about becoming a different version of yourself, about finding the world you are fit for when you're not fit for the one you're in. And, of course, it is about a little monster.
The book moves through several points of view. We begin with Magos, the grieving mother, but whose grief does not present as sorrow. She comes back to her home in Mexico City because her husband, Joseph, struggles to be around her when she doesn't seem to share his sense of loss. Magos will bring the little monster into the world, fueled by her own strange suffering. There is Lena, Magos's closest friend who has also spent her whole life in love with Magos. And when Joseph returns, we see that he and Magos are not the same people they once were. Their loss has changed them, and so has the little monster.
The monster himself is exciting. He doesn't fit any existing model of monster, or at least not any that I've heard of. He also does not stay the same. He is unpredictable. Magos believes she knows what he will become, but how much of this is Magos' desire for her lost son? How can Magos and Joseph see the monster without that lens? He is, eventually, known as Monstrilio or M, and as he changes he forces those around him to change with him. And they do, until they reach the outside boundaries of what they want M to be and what M wants for himself.
If that sounds not very horror-y, well, it often isn't. Though there are some quite grisly scenes. (This includes scenes that feature kink, both with and without consent.) It is the kind of book that should satisfy many more "literary" readers (yes I am rolling my eyes a little, but the point remains). For horror readers it may move too slow for some, but if you are looking for something unusual and new that doesn't feel like anything you've read before, which I absolutely am, Monstrilio fits the bill. A great debut.
Also was surprised to discover around halfway through the book that a majority of the main characters are queer! The book itself felt very intwined with themes of parent/child as well as queerness, especially in M's self-discovery.
The book moves through several points of view. We begin with Magos, the grieving mother, but whose grief does not present as sorrow. She comes back to her home in Mexico City because her husband, Joseph, struggles to be around her when she doesn't seem to share his sense of loss. Magos will bring the little monster into the world, fueled by her own strange suffering. There is Lena, Magos's closest friend who has also spent her whole life in love with Magos. And when Joseph returns, we see that he and Magos are not the same people they once were. Their loss has changed them, and so has the little monster.
The monster himself is exciting. He doesn't fit any existing model of monster, or at least not any that I've heard of. He also does not stay the same. He is unpredictable. Magos believes she knows what he will become, but how much of this is Magos' desire for her lost son? How can Magos and Joseph see the monster without that lens? He is, eventually, known as Monstrilio or M, and as he changes he forces those around him to change with him. And they do, until they reach the outside boundaries of what they want M to be and what M wants for himself.
If that sounds not very horror-y, well, it often isn't. Though there are some quite grisly scenes. (This includes scenes that feature kink, both with and without consent.) It is the kind of book that should satisfy many more "literary" readers (yes I am rolling my eyes a little, but the point remains). For horror readers it may move too slow for some, but if you are looking for something unusual and new that doesn't feel like anything you've read before, which I absolutely am, Monstrilio fits the bill. A great debut.
Also was surprised to discover around halfway through the book that a majority of the main characters are queer! The book itself felt very intwined with themes of parent/child as well as queerness, especially in M's self-discovery.
April 2, 2023
1.5 stars
I . . . really, really didn't like this.
I'm giving it that extra half star because I do think that the author is a very talented writer, and I loved the first couple of chapters and was enjoying it up until maybe midway through. But it got weird, and not in an enjoyable way, at all.
The weirdness starts with the female friend's chapter when it's described how she hires prostitutes to bathe her. (Was this a necessary sideplot in a book that's ostensibly about grieving a child?) At first it's for a nonsexual purpose, but then she starts fingering one of the women without asking for permission. I do not enjoy reading about casual sexual assault, especially when I'm not certain it was meant to be portrayed as a wrong act.
Then the book transitions to the father's perspective some years later, when the very sweet and monstrous Monstrilio has become a mostly normal human man - just with fangs and some extra hair. At some point during this chapter, Monstrilio (who's now going by the letter "M," which is mildly annoying to read - letters do not make good names) calls his father to tell him that he had sex with a grown man, and that during sex he bit his partner. (?) Then later, his father decides to bite his own partner during sex. (??) This part was so unnecessary and just plain weird.
It seems like every literary novel these days feels the need to have explicit sex scenes and explicit descriptions of sex, and this book was no exception. I'm just not sure why I needed to read about the exact way Magos liked to cup Joseph's ass.
Monstrilio's segment comes at the very end, but it was thoroughly unenjoyable to read. The author did away with quotation marks, which is a writing style I'm almost never fond of. Monstrilio himself is very charming, but again - the explicit sex scenes were unpleasant to read, especially considering M is presented as being the spirit of a dead child and is actually only about six years old. And given all that had come before, the ending felt a bit off to me.
I dunno. This book will definitely appeal to a certain type. I'm just very far away from that type, I guess.
I . . . really, really didn't like this.
I'm giving it that extra half star because I do think that the author is a very talented writer, and I loved the first couple of chapters and was enjoying it up until maybe midway through. But it got weird, and not in an enjoyable way, at all.
The weirdness starts with the female friend's chapter when it's described how she hires prostitutes to bathe her. (Was this a necessary sideplot in a book that's ostensibly about grieving a child?) At first it's for a nonsexual purpose, but then she starts fingering one of the women without asking for permission. I do not enjoy reading about casual sexual assault, especially when I'm not certain it was meant to be portrayed as a wrong act.
Then the book transitions to the father's perspective some years later, when the very sweet and monstrous Monstrilio has become a mostly normal human man - just with fangs and some extra hair. At some point during this chapter, Monstrilio (who's now going by the letter "M," which is mildly annoying to read - letters do not make good names) calls his father to tell him that he had sex with a grown man, and that during sex he bit his partner. (?) Then later, his father decides to bite his own partner during sex. (??) This part was so unnecessary and just plain weird.
It seems like every literary novel these days feels the need to have explicit sex scenes and explicit descriptions of sex, and this book was no exception. I'm just not sure why I needed to read about the exact way Magos liked to cup Joseph's ass.
Monstrilio's segment comes at the very end, but it was thoroughly unenjoyable to read. The author did away with quotation marks, which is a writing style I'm almost never fond of. Monstrilio himself is very charming, but again - the explicit sex scenes were unpleasant to read, especially considering M is presented as being the spirit of a dead child and is actually only about six years old. And given all that had come before, the ending felt a bit off to me.
I dunno. This book will definitely appeal to a certain type. I'm just very far away from that type, I guess.
March 26, 2023
3⭐️
Monstrilio is another case of publisher’s doing a book an injustice by failing to mention critical components of their story in the synopsis. For example, while reading Monstrilio, I was surprised by how much the topic of kinks played a role in the story. I expected this book to center around the grief of a couple who lost their child, and it was at the beginning…but soon turned into something else.
I was really enamored with Monstrilio in the first 1/3rd of the book. The writing was poignant and emotional, I felt an immense amount of empathy for the characters, and I felt truly immersed in this story and these characters lives. The novel is broken down into four different perspectives including Magos (Santiago’s mom), Joseph (Santiago’s dad), Lena (Magos’s best friend), and a last perspective which revealing might be considered spoilery. I was initially shocked when I saw the book completely change perspective from Magos to Lena bc Magos had been the center of the story thus far and I had enjoyed following her perspective in dealing with the aftermath of the death of her son and was uncertain of what her best friend’s perspective really had to offer to the story.
My issues with Lena’s perspective quickly became less about the fact that she was given a perspective and more about the misplaced/underdeveloped bathing kink storyline that was introduced in her perspective. Lena essentially hires sex workers to bathe her once a week, usually Mondays. Plopping that into a novel that has been up to this point, a somber story about a mother’s grief was certainly a choice. We’re told a strange story about Lena’s childhood and her mother who, let’s just say, holds extremist beliefs about her daughter, and that is the extent of the background we’re given to understand these uh unique desires of Lena. Anyways, it was the randomness of this storyline being introduced in the book that foreshadowed a larger pattern of departure from the original synopsis of the novel.
Someone could argue that at it’s core, grief remains the foundation of this story but the latter half really decenters the death of Santiago, the lung creature that the characters grow to love, and replaces these things with other stroylines such as relationship struggles (especially queer relationships), kink, and larger themes of accepting all of someone for who they truly are. Because of this, the book feels like two separate novels that never really marry each other but instead feel like an abrupt jump from the first part of the novel which centered grief to the second part that was largely about kinks.
To speak a little bit more about the role of kinks in the story: the subject of kinks served a metaphorical role for monstrosity or being different and is explored in the latter parts of the book by closely following one character’s perspective during a few sexual encounters. Again, this strayed pretty far from the synopsis, and is something I thought was executed fine, but considering it played such a large role in the story, it just wasn’t what I expected nor was it something I was particularly interested in especially when compared to the emotional connection I had in the first few sections of the novel following Magos & Joseph’s grief.
There were a lot of good things about this novel. It is utterly creative, Cordova has promising writing ability, I liked the casual queerness of most of the characters in the book, and this was overall an impressive debut. But, at the same time, all the parts just didn’t come together as well as I would’ve liked. I would definitely pick up other novels from this author and still recommend this to fans of literary horror.
Monstrilio is another case of publisher’s doing a book an injustice by failing to mention critical components of their story in the synopsis. For example, while reading Monstrilio, I was surprised by how much the topic of kinks played a role in the story. I expected this book to center around the grief of a couple who lost their child, and it was at the beginning…but soon turned into something else.
I was really enamored with Monstrilio in the first 1/3rd of the book. The writing was poignant and emotional, I felt an immense amount of empathy for the characters, and I felt truly immersed in this story and these characters lives. The novel is broken down into four different perspectives including Magos (Santiago’s mom), Joseph (Santiago’s dad), Lena (Magos’s best friend), and a last perspective which revealing might be considered spoilery. I was initially shocked when I saw the book completely change perspective from Magos to Lena bc Magos had been the center of the story thus far and I had enjoyed following her perspective in dealing with the aftermath of the death of her son and was uncertain of what her best friend’s perspective really had to offer to the story.
My issues with Lena’s perspective quickly became less about the fact that she was given a perspective and more about the misplaced/underdeveloped bathing kink storyline that was introduced in her perspective. Lena essentially hires sex workers to bathe her once a week, usually Mondays. Plopping that into a novel that has been up to this point, a somber story about a mother’s grief was certainly a choice. We’re told a strange story about Lena’s childhood and her mother who, let’s just say, holds extremist beliefs about her daughter, and that is the extent of the background we’re given to understand these uh unique desires of Lena. Anyways, it was the randomness of this storyline being introduced in the book that foreshadowed a larger pattern of departure from the original synopsis of the novel.
Someone could argue that at it’s core, grief remains the foundation of this story but the latter half really decenters the death of Santiago, the lung creature that the characters grow to love, and replaces these things with other stroylines such as relationship struggles (especially queer relationships), kink, and larger themes of accepting all of someone for who they truly are. Because of this, the book feels like two separate novels that never really marry each other but instead feel like an abrupt jump from the first part of the novel which centered grief to the second part that was largely about kinks.
To speak a little bit more about the role of kinks in the story: the subject of kinks served a metaphorical role for monstrosity or being different and is explored in the latter parts of the book by closely following one character’s perspective during a few sexual encounters. Again, this strayed pretty far from the synopsis, and is something I thought was executed fine, but considering it played such a large role in the story, it just wasn’t what I expected nor was it something I was particularly interested in especially when compared to the emotional connection I had in the first few sections of the novel following Magos & Joseph’s grief.
There were a lot of good things about this novel. It is utterly creative, Cordova has promising writing ability, I liked the casual queerness of most of the characters in the book, and this was overall an impressive debut. But, at the same time, all the parts just didn’t come together as well as I would’ve liked. I would definitely pick up other novels from this author and still recommend this to fans of literary horror.
July 10, 2023
should’ve been a short story
March 10, 2024
4.5 stars rounded up
I can see why this has been a big bookseller pick. It's a slow, character driven horror novel that leans literary. Monstrilio does an excellent job making the strange feel largely mundane, but punctuated by moments of horrific violence. It's a novel about grief, loss of a child, and how people experience loss differently. The ways it can twist us and our relationships as we try to fill a void.
It begins with a mother with a chronically ill child who dies and she decides to carve out a piece of his lung and keep it. Then she feeds it and it begins to grow into something else...
This was a very sad book filled with people who are very messy and hurting. Becoming themselves monstrous in their grief. It's very good and something I feel like I need to sit with. There are places where the story jumps suddenly in time or perspective and that feels a bit jarring. I can't tell if that's the point or not. But the writing is beautiful and I found it to be very engaging for the most part. With some quite disturbing scenes. It's also a very queer book, which I hadn't heard people talking about. It's got an interesting approach to examining the strangeness of characters sexuality that is often tied to their own trauma or issues. I'm still wrapping my head around that element. But if you like strange, literary horror this is one to pick up.
I can see why this has been a big bookseller pick. It's a slow, character driven horror novel that leans literary. Monstrilio does an excellent job making the strange feel largely mundane, but punctuated by moments of horrific violence. It's a novel about grief, loss of a child, and how people experience loss differently. The ways it can twist us and our relationships as we try to fill a void.
It begins with a mother with a chronically ill child who dies and she decides to carve out a piece of his lung and keep it. Then she feeds it and it begins to grow into something else...
This was a very sad book filled with people who are very messy and hurting. Becoming themselves monstrous in their grief. It's very good and something I feel like I need to sit with. There are places where the story jumps suddenly in time or perspective and that feels a bit jarring. I can't tell if that's the point or not. But the writing is beautiful and I found it to be very engaging for the most part. With some quite disturbing scenes. It's also a very queer book, which I hadn't heard people talking about. It's got an interesting approach to examining the strangeness of characters sexuality that is often tied to their own trauma or issues. I'm still wrapping my head around that element. But if you like strange, literary horror this is one to pick up.
February 23, 2023
Literary horror at its finest!! This is a great one for fans of Carmen Maria Machado.
A mother reincarnates her dead son into a feral little monstrilio. The story, told in four different perspectives, follows the family and monstrilio through his creation and ultimately the deadly aftermath that follows. I loved the writing, the plot had me hooked from page one, and the characters were so intriguing! A favorite of the year for sure.
Many thanks to zando for the advanced copy.
A mother reincarnates her dead son into a feral little monstrilio. The story, told in four different perspectives, follows the family and monstrilio through his creation and ultimately the deadly aftermath that follows. I loved the writing, the plot had me hooked from page one, and the characters were so intriguing! A favorite of the year for sure.
Many thanks to zando for the advanced copy.
June 30, 2024
I havnt read much grief horror and was intruiged by this. Its was sad yet very compelling to keep listening to follow each characters and how they dealt with it. The monstrillo part reminded me very very slightly of Frankenstein. Really enjoyed the audiobook.
June 11, 2023
https://instagram.com/p/CrLg-t6rj-W/
A brilliant debut on grief, family, and self acceptance. With gorgeously crafted prose that glows with longing and hunger, Monstrilio is a visceral account of the lives we build around grief, the doors we must close to open new ones, the feelings we will go to any lengths to preserve. It is a reflection of all of the dark parts within us, the beautiful parts, the ones we piece from past and present to create something new; maybe not what was intended or desired, but something authentic, whole, and wonderful. This is as much a coming of age, a familial love story, as it is a tale of horror; this novel is incredibly unique and utterly moving, a memorable story that deserves to be shouted from rooftops.
A brilliant debut on grief, family, and self acceptance. With gorgeously crafted prose that glows with longing and hunger, Monstrilio is a visceral account of the lives we build around grief, the doors we must close to open new ones, the feelings we will go to any lengths to preserve. It is a reflection of all of the dark parts within us, the beautiful parts, the ones we piece from past and present to create something new; maybe not what was intended or desired, but something authentic, whole, and wonderful. This is as much a coming of age, a familial love story, as it is a tale of horror; this novel is incredibly unique and utterly moving, a memorable story that deserves to be shouted from rooftops.
September 28, 2024
!!REMINDER TO MY FUTURE SELF!! - Reread this book when you're feeling contemplative and existential and deep. That's what this book deserves.
This book is fantastic. It handles so many sensitive/delicate topics with the raw and unflinching detail they deserve. I admire and appreciate it for that.
It didn't breach a 4.5 or 5 star because I, unfortunately, found it very difficult to commit to the emotional reading experience. I enjoyed the discussions and psychological debates. But I was never
impacted by the characters the way I assume I was meant to.
One gigantic pro for this book is how unbelievably queer it is. You think you know what I mean? You don't. I swear I could rapid fire tennis balls from a rocket launcher into an open field full of people and never ONCE hit a straight. That's how queer this book is. And I adore it for that.
Once again, I highly recommend this book. But because of it's high anticipation for me, I feel the need to tell you the minute details of what made it not a 5 star for me. That being said, please read it.
This book is fantastic. It handles so many sensitive/delicate topics with the raw and unflinching detail they deserve. I admire and appreciate it for that.
It didn't breach a 4.5 or 5 star because I, unfortunately, found it very difficult to commit to the emotional reading experience. I enjoyed the discussions and psychological debates. But I was never
impacted by the characters the way I assume I was meant to.
One gigantic pro for this book is how unbelievably queer it is. You think you know what I mean? You don't. I swear I could rapid fire tennis balls from a rocket launcher into an open field full of people and never ONCE hit a straight. That's how queer this book is. And I adore it for that.
Once again, I highly recommend this book. But because of it's high anticipation for me, I feel the need to tell you the minute details of what made it not a 5 star for me. That being said, please read it.
September 9, 2023
4.5 stars. Grief horror is just my jam.
Read
July 1, 2024Monstrilio is a poetically-penned and heartbreaking work of gothic fiction with a deep focus on loss, grief, and family ties. Magos and Joseph have lost their eleven-year-old son, and in a moment of desperation and grief, Magos cuts away a piece of their son and takes it home with her to Mexico City. There, inspired by old folktales, she nurtures the lung like a plant and watches it grow into a hungry little creature: Monstrilio.
As the novel progresses, we shift perspective from that of Magos to her best friend Lena, her husband Joseph, and finally to someone named M (take a guess). Along the way, we move from place to place, watch as Monstrilio grows and comes to resemble the dead Santiago, and sit helpless as this family grieves, loves, hates, and gradually moves forward.
It's a dark tale of monsters and pain, but it's also achingly human and honest. For all of those reasons, it is discomfiting. Watching a living thing grow from organ to monster to something resembling a person (or maybe just a person?) is haunting and alluring in equal measure.
My full thoughts: https://booksandbao.com/essential-mod...
As the novel progresses, we shift perspective from that of Magos to her best friend Lena, her husband Joseph, and finally to someone named M (take a guess). Along the way, we move from place to place, watch as Monstrilio grows and comes to resemble the dead Santiago, and sit helpless as this family grieves, loves, hates, and gradually moves forward.
It's a dark tale of monsters and pain, but it's also achingly human and honest. For all of those reasons, it is discomfiting. Watching a living thing grow from organ to monster to something resembling a person (or maybe just a person?) is haunting and alluring in equal measure.
My full thoughts: https://booksandbao.com/essential-mod...
August 24, 2023
I felt like this was 30% a monster coming of age story and 70% about kink sex. ALSO I still don't understand the shapes on the cover....
The character perspective changes definitely threw me off while reading this via audiobook. At first I had a very difficult time figuring out which character perspective I was reading through. I also didn't really understand the point of some of them, for example the friend character Lena's POV (...maybe to show like "found family"?).
I thought it was weird how we went from the mother's POV where she was facing the loss of her son...and then switching to graphic sex scenes and the sexual kinks the characters have. I thought I was getting into a grief horror book but it felt like it was just about kinks and sex and that didn't make sense with the grief aspect at all. I didn't feel like this was in the marketing or synopsis of this book at all and regardless of the symbolism behind why it was included if I had known it was so heavily centered in the novel I would not have picked this up knowing it was not going to be something I enjoyed.
This one also falls more into literary fiction than horror. I did think this one was very well written but the story just was not for me. I know a lot of people really love this book but I didn't get it.
.
.
Quotes that made me LOL:
LOL "I didn't think they'd both fall in love with me" lol okay girl.
"My mother thought I was a monster and didn't love me. This thing an actual fucking monster was loved." LOLOLOL
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.
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Synopsis: When her young son passes away a grief stricken mother cuts out a piece of his lung. It starts to grow into something.
The character perspective changes definitely threw me off while reading this via audiobook. At first I had a very difficult time figuring out which character perspective I was reading through. I also didn't really understand the point of some of them, for example the friend character Lena's POV (...maybe to show like "found family"?).
I thought it was weird how we went from the mother's POV where she was facing the loss of her son...and then switching to graphic sex scenes and the sexual kinks the characters have. I thought I was getting into a grief horror book but it felt like it was just about kinks and sex and that didn't make sense with the grief aspect at all. I didn't feel like this was in the marketing or synopsis of this book at all and regardless of the symbolism behind why it was included if I had known it was so heavily centered in the novel I would not have picked this up knowing it was not going to be something I enjoyed.
This one also falls more into literary fiction than horror. I did think this one was very well written but the story just was not for me. I know a lot of people really love this book but I didn't get it.
.
.
Quotes that made me LOL:
LOL "I didn't think they'd both fall in love with me" lol okay girl.
"My mother thought I was a monster and didn't love me. This thing an actual fucking monster was loved." LOLOLOL
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.
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Synopsis: When her young son passes away a grief stricken mother cuts out a piece of his lung. It starts to grow into something.
June 9, 2024
"He wasn’t Monstrilio anymore, but he wasn’t Santiago either. Santiago was dead. There was solace in keeping his memory unchanged. He was a place to visit, like a book reread.”
Frankenstein in Baghdad meets Samanta Schweblin in this unsettling speculative horror novel by debut Mexican author Samano Cordova.
Driven by the maddening grief over losing her eleven-year-old son, a mother cuts out a piece of his lung and keeps it in a jar. Inspired by a strange folktale and the desire to keep a piece of her son alive with her, she feeds and nurtures the lung until it grows into a little sentient creature she names Monstrilio. As this little monster grows and transforms, and begins to shape the lives of the people around it, Monstrilio kicks up questions of love, loss and the darker side of both of those things.
Monstrilio was a story in two parts for me. It starts off as a deeply powerful narrative about a mothers desperate grief over the loss of her child. This first half of the novel was absolutely brilliant to me, and everything I’d hoped the novel would offer based on the synopsis. We see the fallout of Santiago’s death reflecting onto the people closest to him; his parents Magos and Joseph, their best friend Lena and uncle Luke, all coping in different (often times clashing) ways, and changing as a result. It’s a raw and unflinching depiction of a grieving family unit, but a beautifully executed one, and I loved the part the monstrous little Monstrilio played in the metaphor here.
We witness Monstrilio (or M, as he comes to call himself) grow and transform throughout the story, passing more and more for human as he ages. It’s at about the halfway mark, where M becomes a teenager, that the story switches gears.
Monstrilio transforms from a destructive little grief-creature, into a queer teen, exploring his sexual identity and the “hunger” he feels deep inside him. This includes quite a few instances of exploring kinks (with ánd without consent from partners). Personally, I was a little caught of guard by this, as nothing about the synopsis or previous content of the book had prepared me for this.
In essence, my mixed feelings about this book boil down to the mismatch between these two parts. I feel like both narratives work well. The tropes of the grief-monster ánd the queer-monster have both been explored before, and I happen to love both of them. Monstrilio just demonstrated that having them mashed together in this way, created a feeling of mismatch for me. It felt like the author was mixing their metaphors, therefore losing the strength of both of them along the way.
It likely boils down to personal taste; I wanted to read the story of the grieving parents and the grief-monster. I wanted to read the story of the boy feeling like a monster for his desires and inability to meet his parents’ expectations for him. I just didn’t quite feel like the two were linked seamlessly enough in Monstrilio.
Recommended for fans of Samanta Schweblin.
Many thanks to Zando and Netgalley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
Frankenstein in Baghdad meets Samanta Schweblin in this unsettling speculative horror novel by debut Mexican author Samano Cordova.
Driven by the maddening grief over losing her eleven-year-old son, a mother cuts out a piece of his lung and keeps it in a jar. Inspired by a strange folktale and the desire to keep a piece of her son alive with her, she feeds and nurtures the lung until it grows into a little sentient creature she names Monstrilio. As this little monster grows and transforms, and begins to shape the lives of the people around it, Monstrilio kicks up questions of love, loss and the darker side of both of those things.
Monstrilio was a story in two parts for me. It starts off as a deeply powerful narrative about a mothers desperate grief over the loss of her child. This first half of the novel was absolutely brilliant to me, and everything I’d hoped the novel would offer based on the synopsis. We see the fallout of Santiago’s death reflecting onto the people closest to him; his parents Magos and Joseph, their best friend Lena and uncle Luke, all coping in different (often times clashing) ways, and changing as a result. It’s a raw and unflinching depiction of a grieving family unit, but a beautifully executed one, and I loved the part the monstrous little Monstrilio played in the metaphor here.
We witness Monstrilio (or M, as he comes to call himself) grow and transform throughout the story, passing more and more for human as he ages. It’s at about the halfway mark, where M becomes a teenager, that the story switches gears.
Monstrilio transforms from a destructive little grief-creature, into a queer teen, exploring his sexual identity and the “hunger” he feels deep inside him. This includes quite a few instances of exploring kinks (with ánd without consent from partners). Personally, I was a little caught of guard by this, as nothing about the synopsis or previous content of the book had prepared me for this.
In essence, my mixed feelings about this book boil down to the mismatch between these two parts. I feel like both narratives work well. The tropes of the grief-monster ánd the queer-monster have both been explored before, and I happen to love both of them. Monstrilio just demonstrated that having them mashed together in this way, created a feeling of mismatch for me. It felt like the author was mixing their metaphors, therefore losing the strength of both of them along the way.
It likely boils down to personal taste; I wanted to read the story of the grieving parents and the grief-monster. I wanted to read the story of the boy feeling like a monster for his desires and inability to meet his parents’ expectations for him. I just didn’t quite feel like the two were linked seamlessly enough in Monstrilio.
Recommended for fans of Samanta Schweblin.
Many thanks to Zando and Netgalley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
May 30, 2024
5 stars
A hauntingly beautiful portrayal of grief and queerness.
I went in blind and could not have anticipated how much I was going to enjoy this. Not only did it have gorgeous prose but it took my favorite elements from Frankenstein, while adding in just enough Latin American folklore/ magical realism, to keep it all fresh. The unabashed queerness and exploration of sex, showing the beauty along with the gross and tragic, it was everything I could have hoped for.
Don't go into this expecting horror, it has horror aspects but when it comes down to it, its an exploration of a mother's grief, the complexities of sexuality, and what makes someone worth holding on to.
A hauntingly beautiful portrayal of grief and queerness.
I went in blind and could not have anticipated how much I was going to enjoy this. Not only did it have gorgeous prose but it took my favorite elements from Frankenstein, while adding in just enough Latin American folklore/ magical realism, to keep it all fresh. The unabashed queerness and exploration of sex, showing the beauty along with the gross and tragic, it was everything I could have hoped for.
Don't go into this expecting horror, it has horror aspects but when it comes down to it, its an exploration of a mother's grief, the complexities of sexuality, and what makes someone worth holding on to.
October 24, 2023
Why do I have to be such an old crank? As of today, Monstrilio rating on Goodreads was 4.19. Well, if you loved this book, scroll on because I’m about to be my irritable self.
A grief stricken mother grows a piece of her dead child’s lung into a new creature.
There were so many things I didn’t like about this book that I’ll only be able to mention a few. Oh, I could lie and say I liked it and discuss metaphors and observations, and look all intelligent, but why? The book was a chore to read. It was boring as well. I finished only because of the high ratings, and when it didn’t get any better I was frustrated. Now I wish I would have DNF’d.
There was no horror beyond the removal of the piece of the dead child’s lung with the exception of animal killing and bites, which is a “no” for me. No matter what happened, it was treated like everything was a-ok. It was all just so awkward and…odd. Even the mother carving into her dead child was treated as an “oops” moment. Magical realism, I get it, it was just so weirdly done.
The characters. Ohhhh, the characters. The book was divided into four parts, four POV’s from each of the main characters. They were boring and self centered, there was pretty descriptive sex that contributed little to the story, and their actions were strange to say the least. Each character had his or her own “monster”. What started as one (grief) turned into more (lbgtq issues, unusual sexual appetites, inability to play well with others) and I ended up lost in metaphor land. (Once the performance art started I was beyond done with it all). Waaay too many monsters for one story besides Monstrilio. Why should I care about any one of them? The author gives the reader no reason to like them, other than their issues. There was no “heart”. It just really was too scattered all over the place, and Monstrilio almost got lost in the shuffle.
Im glad it’s over. Reading this monstrosity (heh heh) just left me feeling “icky”.
A grief stricken mother grows a piece of her dead child’s lung into a new creature.
There were so many things I didn’t like about this book that I’ll only be able to mention a few. Oh, I could lie and say I liked it and discuss metaphors and observations, and look all intelligent, but why? The book was a chore to read. It was boring as well. I finished only because of the high ratings, and when it didn’t get any better I was frustrated. Now I wish I would have DNF’d.
There was no horror beyond the removal of the piece of the dead child’s lung with the exception of animal killing and bites, which is a “no” for me. No matter what happened, it was treated like everything was a-ok. It was all just so awkward and…odd. Even the mother carving into her dead child was treated as an “oops” moment. Magical realism, I get it, it was just so weirdly done.
The characters. Ohhhh, the characters. The book was divided into four parts, four POV’s from each of the main characters. They were boring and self centered, there was pretty descriptive sex that contributed little to the story, and their actions were strange to say the least. Each character had his or her own “monster”. What started as one (grief) turned into more (lbgtq issues, unusual sexual appetites, inability to play well with others) and I ended up lost in metaphor land. (Once the performance art started I was beyond done with it all). Waaay too many monsters for one story besides Monstrilio. Why should I care about any one of them? The author gives the reader no reason to like them, other than their issues. There was no “heart”. It just really was too scattered all over the place, and Monstrilio almost got lost in the shuffle.
Im glad it’s over. Reading this monstrosity (heh heh) just left me feeling “icky”.
January 8, 2024
beautifully written literary horror novel about grief. I actually enjoyed the separate POVs, especially joseph's, and Cordova is definitely an exciting writer to watch out for future projects.
March 21, 2024
M!!!!!
October 2, 2023
Unlike anything I've ever read, very sad
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