Bookreview - A monster calls

A Monster Calls

A monster calls by Patrick Ness

This book is about Conor, an eight year old boy with a very ill mother. She has cancer. Everything has worked out so far. Until Conor's mum gets another treatment. Usually she gets better after about three days, but not this time. She called Conor's grandmother to come help them. The thing is, Conor hates her. Every night Conor wakes up at 12.07 am by a monster. A giant, ancient, elemental force of nature. Who is also a Yew tree. He's gone walking to tell Conor four stories. And the fourth one happens to be Conor's story. It's the hardest tale to tell. The truth.

Conor is a very real character. He is young, bullied and has a mum with cancer. He takes on very much responsibility, more than he can handle. That is also the reason why he doesn't like his grandmother. She does stuff he usually does. His father lives in America with his new family. Conor doesn't meet him often and his mother is all he had.

Can I just say that I absolutely loved the monster, because I did. He, or it, or whatever, was just such an amazing character. His cryptic answers and interesting stories. At first, in the beginning of the book, when he started declaring about his "many names" and how awesome, powerful, and ageless he was, I thought, oh, here we go again, another mightier-than-you-idiot, but Ness's monster talks the talk, and walks the walk superbly and graciously. I will never forget about the monster made of an ancient Yew tree.

"There is not always a good guy. Nor is there always a bad one. Most people are somewhere in between."

I think Patrick Ness really wrote an important book. At the first half of the book nothing really happened. But the thing is, it wasn't boring. I think the long "intro" gave the book depth.

I just read this book from cover to cover. I have no idea how to rate it. It is the worst book I've read. I would never be able to recommend it. Because I hated it. It's ripped my heart in two. It'll make you think of losing the one person who means the most to you. Or it'll make you think of those you've already lost. It's not a happy book, but it's an important book. And I loved it.

First things first: This almost never happens, but I have to admit that I cried at the end of this book; I clutched my cute little dog and bawled. However, I didn't cry because of the book in general, necessarily, but because of what it did to me. It drags out your saddest memories and pains, kicking and screaming, makes you look them right in the face and watch them all happen all over again, no matter how much you don't want to. It affects you on the deepest levels. This book resonated with me so deeply on so many different levels; it's just astounding.

My dad got sick suddenly, in a span of only thirty short minutes, of lung failure six years ago when I was just nine. Beneath all of the sadness from his (almost) passing, I've also been horribly mad. I never got the opportunity to even see him once on that Tuesday. To let my monster come walking and hold me up with its monstrous hands as I said the words I didn't think I'd ever have the bravery to utter. All of the little things that you thought would be indelible can go away. So for these six long years I've lied to myself. Saying things like "there was nothing I could do to stop it" all of those things that people want you to say and expect to hear. But, after this book, I, like Conor, realize that I didn't want him to go, dammit. He was my dad; the guy that got up every morning just to tell me that he loved me. He was my confidante, my hero. And I learned from A Monster Calls that it's okay to be selfish like that, because you need to be able to say that you want to hold onto the people you love most before you can truly let go of them or the experience. This amazing novel by Patrick Ness showed me that it really is okay. That, right there, is one of the best things that a novel can do, to truly be able to affect a person to a core. And that's what A Monster Calls did to me in more ways than one.

I could also relate to Conor's feelings of being alone, ignored, and being treated "specially" just because of circumstance. Not only were the stares practically unbearable, but it reminded me every day of what I'd almost lost. You begin to shrink inside yourself in order to avoid it all, and, at the time, you want to become unseen to your fellow classmates. Because being invisible is better than the stares, the pity, the concern. No matter how much you've said the total opposite to yourself and everyone else; there's still a small part of you that thinks they're just been on vacation and are going to walk through that door, wrap you in a hug, and tell you how much they missed you while they were gone. Those stares just diminish that little shred of hope that you've got, so Conor and people like myself react by shutting off. Again, like I and Conor learned, once you're shut off, it sucks. Big time.

I'm one of those kind of people that is more an introvert than extrovert when it comes to emotional pain. When my dad fell ill, though, I broke. Couldn't accept that he was almost gone. I only really cried hard about it one other time after that and I hated it. For being weak and crying when my mom and sister were needing someone so desperately to help them. It was useless, but I tried: I cleaned the house, mowed the lawn, did all that I could to ease their pain and worries while only tending to my own late at night into my pillow. What Ness showed me through Conor was that it's okay to cry while others are watching, to let them take care of me and what I've dealt with. A Monster Calls was able to let me take some of the pressure and I can't thank Patrick Ness enough for doing that for me - through Connor.

"Your mind will believe comforting lies while also knowing the painful truths that make those lies necessary. And your mind will punish you for believing both."

In the end I would recommend this book with all of my heart to anyone and everyone. It is touching, poignant, and amazing. You absolutely do not want to miss out on this book.

Maybe someday, when I'm ready, or even totally unprepared, my monster will finally come walking, and I sincerely hope for that day.

"You were merely wishing for the end of pain, the monster said. Your own pain. An end to how it isolated you. It is the most human wish of all."

I give this book five out of five stars!