2021 EDIT: A revolutionary and important piece of literature, although not without its flaws, as much as it pains me to say it.
I hate the bully characters (insomuch as they can be called characters), and what is the deal with Harry, anyway? Let me tell you right now: no thirteen-year-old British schoolboy acts likes he does. No thirteen-year-old British schoolboy talks like he does. How can he be so sophisticated and understanding enough to abuse an innocent, suffering victim - to know exactly what buttons to push - like a sociopath? Why does he even bother? What does he get out of it? Most adults don't act like he does - especially not when they're literally being beaten up, tossed around and sent flying across a school cafeteria, and even then, Harry, still calm, verbally and psychologically tortures Conor, his victim and provoked attacker, while shrugging off a bleeding headwound. This is the behaviour of a psychopath. He is thirteen!
And I swear I never want to see the phrase, "[so-and-so] let out a breath [he/she] hadn't known [he/she] was holding", or some variation of that, ever again. That cliched line is in too many books. It's lost whatever meaning and effect it might've had once, a very, very long time ago, and it should be banned. Or at least, editors should be given the option to remove it completely as soon as they see it in a draft.
The tree monster's stories, without their "twist endings", are merely trite, old fashioned fairy tales, too; particularly in their gender roles, where women are either young, beautiful damsels and dead victims, or older evil witches and queens. They don't do anything. They barely have a presence. They exist only in relation to the male lead characters. Why is it that women's beauty - which is either a good and pure trait or a sign of suspicion and deception depending on how old she is - has to be emphasised in everything, like that's the only important thing about her? Is this something to do with Conor and how he views women?
And poor Lily...
But the adults turn out to be not so frustratingly clueless and useless, so there's that.
Overall, the harrowing, heartwrenching effect of 'A Monster Calls' is as strong as ever. The ending is fantastic, making the wait completely worth it. I liked and understood the tree monster at last, and it grew on me, pun unintended. The suspense, the depiction of grief, is real. Shudderingly real. You'll feel like you can barely breathe; like you can barely pass through the pain as you read the end. It's tearful. It's suffocating. It'll hurt.
Certainly not an easy book to read for anyone, no matter who you are. It's hard, but it is vital nonetheless.
And I never want to read it again. Such a small yet real (for the most part) story can be a lot to bear. Life, humans and stories can be terrible.
Time to part ways, 'A Monster Calls', but I will remember you.
Final Score: 4/5
Original Review:
I honestly don't know why it took me so long to decide to read this book. The premise that sounded to me like another "been-there-done-that"? The binding and cover? I'm not sure.
Nearly all my Goodreads friends and the people I follow there have read it and loved it, and in time I finally felt like I was missing out on something worthwhile and amazing.
As you can probably guess, I'm glad to have finally given 'A Monster Calls' a chance, for it is not only a beautiful book, but an important one. Written by award-winning author Patrick Ness, based on the original idea by another award-winning YA author, Siobhan Dowd, who died of cancer at the age of forty-seven before she could write word to paper.
In regards to this masterwork, I know it'll be hard to say what so many others haven't said already - and even harder to express my feelings and thoughts about it - but I'll try anyway.
'A Monster Calls' is not a children's book, nor is it an easy book for a human being to read. Despite its title, its ultimate theme concerns what it means to deal with the loss of a loved one - more specifically, a parent - and what waiting for the inevitable to happen does to people and how it changes everything. It is dark, brutally honest, and holds nothing back. But like all good sad stories, there is a message of hope; a hope which tells you that when the inevitable finally comes, you have the power within yourself to cope - not just for yourself but for others who you'll find are also suffering and are dealing with the pain in their own way. An obviously manipulative sad story can leave you feeling nothing and like you have learned nothing - the emotions are hollow and fabricated desperately for the sake of making the audience cry. A good sad story sings in earnest; from genuine emotions being displayed, because the author has experienced life to the full; he/she knows what he/she is doing, and knows how human fears and hardships come about.
Rambling aside, 'A Monster Calls' works as a heartbreaking sad tale because the author clearly knows what it feels like to face losing a family member, and how best to rise from it. Good heavens, the fear Patrick Ness expresses twists a knife of truth in his reader's heart.
Because losing a family member is something that is inevitable and something that must be faced one day, if it hasn't happened already. Lest we break and the nightmares consume us in our refusal to confront the truth when reality sets its unfair life cycle on us mere mortals. This is even more difficult - not to mention crueller - for a child to deal with. What monsters do these children come up against: both in the real world - with overbearing families and distant and uncertain schools - and in their own heads and hearts?
Thirteen-year-old British schoolboy Conor O'Malley is experiencing just this in 'A Monster Calls'. He keeps waiting and hoping for his mother to get better from her treatments. And all the while his grandma is interfering and can't find the right way to "have the talk" with him about the horrifying inevitable. Plus his father can't stay with him for long because he has a life in America with a new family, and the people at his school don't know how to help him (similar to how he can't help himself and others). They avoid him, or bully him to get a reaction from him in order to find out what it is he truly wants.
Conor is hurting in practically every way. At home he feels useless, and at school he feels invisible, like a ghost. He cannot speak about his fear and pain and what he wants. He doesn't want to, for he is hiding from reality and just wants things to be normal and as they were before. More negative emotions arise, including anger. Too much bottled-up fear and despair can be destructive.
And then one night, an ancient monster of the earth - different from the monster of darkness from the same nightmare Conor's had since his mother told him she's ill - comes to the lonely and grieving boy. This monster claims he called to it.
This monster wants something Conor refuses to acknowledge or give. The truth.
I love all the characters in 'A Monster Calls'. All ring true of real people, including Conor himself whose grief feels so genuine in a child reaching adulthood. His mother is wonderful and imperfect, trying to be brave for her young son and thinking of his needs in a way only a mother can. She reminds me why mothers are so important in our lives, and why losing them is one of the worst things that can happen to us, especially when we're young. Even Conor's father I understand, despite him not appearing in the book much.
But of course the highlight of this tragic tale is the monster itself. I love its dialogue and the conversations it has with Conor, which are funny - almost whimsical, even - and also scary. The stories the monster tells him each night teach Conor that there are multiple sides to every event, and that people are very complex with no black/white morality. So everyone, especially those close to you, should be treated with respect, and in turn they might treat you the same. I understood that the monster is helping Conor to help himself, and so the psychological element of the story is strong in that perhaps this monster symbolises the boy's inner truth wanting to get out (while the nightmare monster symbolises his devouring and collapsing denial in order not to deal with the truth).
The truth can set us free. Currently I find there are no other stories out there that showcase this message as effectively, intelligently and powerfully as 'A Monster Calls' does.
The artwork by Jim Kay is terrific and adds much to the haunting tragedy of the tale. In that respect it does remind me of 'The Graveyard Book' by Neil Gaiman; in a twisted deception that this is indeed a children's story.
Well, maybe it is. I think everyone should give 'A Monster Calls' a chance because its themes and issues are timeless and affect everyone, regardless of age. And that is what makes it so beautiful. That is what makes it so important.
One negative I can possibly call attention to is that a few story arcs don't end in a satisfactory manner, such as Conor possibly patching things up with an old school friend. The boy who bullies him is way too mature (if such a word can even describe a bully) for a thirteen-year-old - how can he know just what buttons to press to make Conor react to him? It's never made clear if the bully knows what Conor is going through.
But life is full of mysteries and things we can't or don't wish to understand - another thing 'A Monster Calls' is about. I have heard it said that it is a book about everything. From a human perspective, it most probably is.
Enlightening and harrowing with truths we must admit to, and I love it.
Final Score: 4.5/5
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