Monstress

by Lysley Tenorio

A luminous collection of heartbreaking, vivid, startling, and gloriously unique stories set amongst the Filipino-American communities of California and the Philippines, Monstress heralds the arrival of a breathtaking new talent on the literary scene: Lysley Tenorio.

Already the worthy recipient of a Pushcart Prize, a Whiting Writer's Award, and a Stegner Fellowship, Tenorio brilliantly explores the need to find connections, the melancholy of isolation, and the sometimes suffocating ties of family in tales that range from a California army base to a steamy moviehouse in Manilla, to the dangerous false glitter of Hollywood.

Genres: Short Stories, Fiction, Book Club, Contemporary, Asian American, Asia, Literary Fiction

224 pages, Paperback

First published January 31, 2012

About the author

Lysley Tenorio is the author of the novel THE SON OF GOOD FORTUNE and the story collection MONSTRESS, named a book of the year by the San Francisco Chronicle. He is the recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship, a Whiting Award, a Stegner fellowship, and the Rome Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, as well as residencies from the MacDowell Colony, Yaddo, and the Bogliasco Foundation. His stories have appeared in the Atlantic, Zoetrope: All-Story, and Ploughshares, and have been adapted for the stage by The American Conservatory Theater in San Francisco and the Ma-Yi Theater in New York City. He is a professor at Saint Mary’s College of California.

Reviews

[K.D. Absolutely · Rating 4 out of 5]

For a first book, this collection of short stories is exceptional. Lysley Tenorio is born in the Philippines, currently lives in San Francisco and is an associate professor at Saint Mary's College of California.

This book caught my fancy while in the bookstore late January (last month). I saw an announcement of this book's launch for February 9 (early this month). I have not been to a book launch yet so I said why not? So, I decided to shell out my hard-earned cash to buy this book at a regular price (P569 or $14 - too expensive for a paperback!) and started reading right away so I could finish before the launch date. However, I got stalled on the first story (I hated it!) so I stopped. I did not know that the succeeding ones were good, exceptionally good!

Below are my knee-jerk reactions after reading a story or a couple of them. They are knee-jerk (not that I am a jerk hahaha!) because they were how I felt right after reading the story/stories.

1) Monstress. - 2 STARS
I read this twice. I got distracted several times by the names of the characters that made me confused so I stopped reading. Then tried to continue each time I stopped until I finished the whole story. However, I could not remember everything for me to write my reaction here. So I read it again and that was the only time that I thought I understood everything. The story is about a Filipino couple who goes to Hollywood. The man is a movie director and his works are not appreciated (not selling well) in Manila. Then comes a movie producer who has watched the man's works and exclaimed Jackpot - Eureka! This is the real deal. The "monstress" here is the woman who dons the monster costumes for her lover's sci-fi scary movies. For me, there is nothing really extraordinary in the story. Renorio tried to be hip by including sci-fi elements and be subtle in the love story about the couple but I saw all those before. Nice try though. Sorry.

2) The Brothers. - 3 STARS
I liked this story about two brothers. One is straight (the narrator) and the other one is a transgender. Eric is a homosexual since boyhood and when he comes out, his mother (their father has abandoned them) orders him out of their home and considers him dead. The storytelling is crisp and Tenorio knows not to go overboard. The injection of Filipino flavor is very tasteful like when the mother uttered "Ang bunso ko" while looking at her dead son.

3) Felix Starro. - 5 STARS
Powerful story. This is about two Filipino faith healers who go to areas around the world with many Filipino immigrants. Their trade reminds me of what Jun Labo used to do in Baguio City fooling rich people around the globe by doing bloodless operation. He even became our mayor until he was exposed by a hidden camera in the defunct TV show Magandang Gabi, Bayan. The POV is that of the younger faith healer's (the niece of the older one) and he is torn between dropping his name to become an illegal immigrant in the US or to retain his name that he is not really proud of. I recently read the book, an anthology of best Philippine short stories of the 20th century. I thought that this story is better than most of them. Amazingly good.

4) The View From Culion. - 5 STARS
The year was 1954. A Fil-Am girl and her mother arrive in Culion Leprosarium in Palawan. The girl has been diagnose with leprosy. Her mother leaves her there and goes back to the US. The girl meets an American soldier who gets the disease while on AWOL from military during WWII. Very powerful story and something close to my heart because I have relatives who had leprosy in the 20-30's and had to live in that leprosarium. I would like to see that place someday and Tenorio reminded me of that dream.

5) Superassasin. - 4 STARS
The story of Green Lantern is used to parallel with the story of a boy who idolizes this Marvel character. I particularly enjoyed the episodic storytelling that switches from Green Lantern with that of the boy. I also liked the relationship between the two boys. They reminded me of my boyhood friends who I seldom see now. Very ingenious stylish storytelling. Youngish too.

6) Help. - 3 STARS
Funny and at time amusing. I just don't get the character of the uncle and what he really wants to happen between his three nephews and the Beatles. Yes, the Beatles who went here in Manila in 1969. What I really liked about this anthology is that the stories are really varied. While beginning to read a story, you don't really know what to expect so you start reading each holding your breath in anticipation.

7) Save the I-Hotel. - 5 STARS
At the start, this story felt like just a spin of Bienvenido N. Santos' 1960 short story, The Day the Dancers Came but the similarity ends with the clear, moving and contemporary prose of Tenorio. What I like about his stories is that he controls his characters and concentrates more on the inner struggles than all out conflicts. This is a story of same-sex love between two elderly Filipino-American men in San Francisco. They first met when they were on their twenties and in the 60's, inter-racial marriages (Filipinos and Americans) was still illegal. Vicente is straight and Fortunato is a closet homo. For one night, for an unknown reason, they kissed. That did not happen again. Fast forward to the 2000's. They are now in their 60's still living together in a seniors' apartment. Vicente is now suffering from Alzheimer's and Fortunato is still taking care of him. Fortunato is still hoping that that night's kiss will turn into something. Most poignant line: "All that became of their kiss was longing." This is the best same sex story that I've read ever! Maybe even better than Annie Proloux's Brokeback Mountain (3 stars). If you enjoy reading love stories, regardless of whether hetero or homo, go for this one. I'd say: Tenorio hits the homerun with this one. Excellent.

8) L'Amour, CA. - 5 STARS
For finale in this collection, Tenorio chose to tell the story of how his family migrated from the Philippines to California in 1974 when he was 8 years old. It is a heartfelt story of an Asian family that had to weather the loneliness and sadness that go with being suddenly uprooted from its native soil. Soil that is too different from the new environment. It is heartfelt because Tenorio was able to translate his emotions to his readers. This story reminded me of Truman Capote's early short stories particularly those about his childhood. They are poignant without going too melodramatic. The innocence of the young narrator also reminded me of Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes (4 stars) minus the references to sex. Lastly, I missed the days when I was with my sister in the province particularly when I was a young boy and our mother would always ask my sister to walk with me to the elementary school. I really looked up to my sister as my protector and big ate.

Wonderful book. I should have been to that book launch. What a missed chance! Based on this book, I have a feeling that Lysley Tenorio is the next best Fil-Am author that Filipinos can claim to be their own.

Good job, Lysley. Mabuhay ka!

[luce (cry bebè's back from hiatus) · Rating 3 out of 5]

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Monstress is an evocative collection of short stories, most of which are set in the United States and the Philippines. These stories revolve around Filipino and Filipino-American characters as they try acclimatise and make a living outside of their homeland or as they try to reconcile cultural and familial expectations with their personal desires. Lysley Tenorio vividly renders the times and places in which he sets his stories, regardless of whether they take place in 1966 in Manila or during the 1980s in L.A. While the stories are all narrated in the first-person, and many explore similar themes of identity, displacement, and human connection, Tenorio showcases great versatility by giving each of his stories a particular tone. The story that lends its title to this collection, 'Monstress', has this nostalgic quality, this melancholic atmosphere, that makes for a bittersweet read. Although 'The View from Culion' possesses a similar tone, it feels much more tragic. 'Superassassin', in its eeriness, seemed closer to something by Shirley Jackson.
While I appreciated the themes Tenorio explores in this novel, I did find some of the stories to be unremarkable. Stories such as 'The Brothers' left me wanting more (this story in particular given that the narrator seems to have a sudden 'change of heart' at the end).
Still, I'm eager to read Tenorio's upcoming novel and I would recommend this novel to readers who enjoy short stories.

[Elizabeth (Alaska) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked this up on a whim because I saw it was stories about Filipinos. My community has a not insignificant minority Filipino population (something over 5% and visible) and I thought this was an opportunity to learn more about their culture. This is not a book to learn anything about their culture, but I'm not at all sorry to have read it.

The eight stories are very individual to themselves. Sometimes a collection of stories will have a sameness about them, but not these, though there is the Filipino and American tie in each of them. All but two of the stories touch on the immigrant experience in one way or another, but none of the experiences is quite the same.

The title story is about some "B" movie makers (or maybe they were C or D movie makers) - think: The Squid Children of Cebu with the central character of the story the Squid Mother of the film. The story Brothers takes place in San Francisco, where a brother must mourn his cross-dressing brother. Another story is titled Help when the Beattles visit Manila during the reign of Imelda Marcos. This was probably my favorite story, though I see other reviewers barely mention it.

I liked the writing style and how well Tenorio uses it to tell his stories. He manages in the space of 25 pages or so - the approximate length of each story - to create believable characters. This is almost, but not quite, a 5-star read. I've read that he is writing a novel. I'm likely to put it on my wish list whenever it appears.

[Marko · Rating 5 out of 5]

Domišljata, gorkoslatka proza podijeljena u osam (ne baš tako kratkih) priča. Prvo sam se zaljubio u naslovnicu, a onda i u ono što se krije iza nje.
Najdraže priče: Superassassin, L'amour, CA i The Brothers.
(Jedina zamjerka koju imam, a koja se ne tiče sadržaja knjige, je ta što je knjiga rezana rough-cut tehnikom... Što to znači? To znači da rubovi stranica strše te da knjiga zbog toga izgleda kupusasto.)

[Sps · Rating 2 out of 5]

The title story was the best by a long shot. The others were dragged down by leaden Meaningfulness. Tenorio placed too much emphasis on too many objects, bogging down his stories' action and miring the reader in emotional muck. I'm sure I'm exaggerating, but it felt like every glance in the mirror led to self-reflection, every edible led to nostalgia, every flight of steps or escalator created vast distances between people. Ergo eyerolling. The beating-the-Beatles story, "Help," had such potential for a Sherman-Alexie-like painful humor, but it was smothered by a thick layer of brooding.

I want to say to fiction writing master's students: it's good that you see how the masters imbue their people, places, things, and motions with symbolism and meaning. But you are confusing your clumsy process (pointing and yelling at the reader about the great emotional importance of x gesture or y object) with their elegant end result (resonance in the reader's mind, motifs braided throughout a piece). Let it go, let it be subtle, let us figure it out ourselves.

[Peter Heinrich · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed these stories. Culture clash and assimilation, gender identity, generation gaps, physical beauty and outward appearances, family relationships, love and betrayal—these are the threads that Tenorio weaves throughout the book. My emotional interest in each character grew up so quickly that it was easy to forget the stories were short; turning the last page on each one was always disappointing.

I'm looking forward to reading more of his work, as it becomes available.

[Monique · Rating 5 out of 5]

"And this is the truth I don't want to know: that the ones who leave and the ones who get left keep living their lives, whatever the distance between." - L'Amour, CA

Awesome collection of short stories that speak of the Filipino immigrant experience. Complete marginalia to follow.

[Sheryl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Feels good to finish something, anything.

Took me forever to finish this and not because it wasn't any good but have just been very busy. Well I didn't think that with the first story, Monstress. It had the right Filipino kick and flavor to it but somehow I found the story a bit forced and trying, to the point of being a bit pretentious.

All other succeeding stories I found to my liking. Though the commonality of living the "American" dream and falling short of it was recurrent and quite sad in hindsight, somehow, I felt for the characters. I knew heart and gut deep where they were coming from. Knew just how torn and difficult it was for them, not only as Filipinos lost, but ultimately, as a lone individual in this world searching for whatever answer he can find.

[Nikki · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved the collections of stories. The way Filipino culture was explored in each story was chilling and wonderful at the same time.

[Adi Rocks Socks · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.43 out of 5

This book is a collection of short stories which all feature Filipino immigrants to the United States. The author states in the foreword that he and his family emigrated to the US when he was a baby, and growing up as an immigrant with no recollection of what the rest of his family called “home” largely shaped his experiences in life.

Overall opinion

The author chose some of the most interesting themes for each of these stories, barring the first one — transphobia, illegal immigration, leprosy, parental negligence, internalised homophobia, and more. Honestly, this is what kept me going.

However, while most of the stories started on a high note, they had sort of incomplete endings which clearly wasn’t done on purpose. Maybe O Henry spoilt me when it comes to short stories, because even if they’re short, I expect a proper beginning, middle and conclusion.

Most of these stories needed a scene or two more — they’d have still been short stories, but that they’d have been actual stories, instead of just being incomplete scenes from a writer’s plot-bunnies folder. But in a few stories, that sense of vagueness worked, and led to a deeper portrayal of the characters.

Some of the narrators are never given names, and I liked that. It somehow made the stories feel like they really happened to someone, as opposed to being pieces of fiction from the author. Some of the stories were truly thought provoking, and it sure made for an interesting experience.

I have thoughts about each of the stories, so here it goes. The average of their ratings comes to 3.43/5.

Individual ratings

Monstress — 2.5/5

A Filipino film-couple (he’s a director/writer, she’s his muse and the monster in all the horror movies he creates; hence the title) gets the chance of their lives to go to Hollywood. This story is of how this ‘opportunity of a lifetime’ comes at the price of their ‘love of a lifetime’.

It started out well enough, and being the first story, I had no preconceived notions about the author’s abilities. I liked how it started, but just as my interest began to grow, the author switched to a 20 years later scene. It felt like two weirdly disjointed memories put together; there was a scene needed in the middle, just to bridge that gap. Or maybe the ‘20 years later’ scene should have been a lot more explanatory. It felt like the story didn’t have a good enough conclusion, and hence the low rating.

(I also feel it wasn’t a great enough story to be used as the titular one for this collection.)

The Brothers — 4/5

Erica is a transwoman who was kicked out of her house as a teen when she came out as trans. The story starts shortly after her death, where her estranged brother is called in to identify her body at the morgue.

Edmund (the brother) cannot get over the fact that Erica is no longer male. In his narration, he constantly calls Erica his brother, and calls her by her former name. It’s clear that he loves her, but is in denial over her sex change.

Initially, I wasn’t sure I’d like this story. It was clear right from the start that Edmund was transphobic. And I don’t like transphobic people. But it turned out to be interesting, because Edmund meets Raquel, a trans-woman at the pre-funeral prayer event. She was Erica’s friend and roommate, and what caught my attention was that Edmund was extremely respectful towards her, never once misgendering her and always acknowledging her as a woman.

After spending time with her, listening to Raquel talk about his sister (whom he still calls his ‘brother’, it’s clear that something is changing within Edmund. Towards the end, even though Edmund still misgenders Erica, he begs his mom not to hide the evidence of Erica’s sex change operation from the corpse.

This made me wonder about transphobia and how much of it was a representation of what society expected of you to accept and reject, and how much of it was true hatred. How could Edmund be accepting of other trans-women, but not his own sister? Didn’t Erica deserve the same kindness and respect?

This story was thought provoking, and made me think of how it’s time to normalise people changing their opinions and becoming more tolerant in a world where cancel culture is the norm. So this story gets a 4/5 from me.

Felix Starro — 2.75/5

This covered the controversial topic of foreigners getting illegal documents to present themselves as natural citizens of the US, and honestly, I love it when authors include themes like that.

Felix Starro III and his grandfather, Felix Starro I, are in San Francisco to con Filipinos living there by performing acts of ‘miracle healing’. Junior steals money from the Senior systematically while in the US, to get himself and his girlfriend papers to become US citizens.

All along, Felix has misgivings about his granddad’s way of making money, and this pushes him to start a new, more honest life for himself and his girl. But how honest can a life like that be, when he needs to change his name and pretend to be someone else for the rest of his life?

This story had the same problem as the first one; it didn’t feel complete and maybe needed one more scene. But the writing was better than that if the first one, and hence the slightly higher rating.

The View From Culion — 5/5

Set in the leper colony of Culion, our narrator is Teresa. She suffers from leprosy, and has been on the island since she was nine years old. We do not know how old she is at the moment; only that she was left there by her mother in the 1950s, and that she sketches for a hobby. An American soldier is brought into the colony as a patient, and Teresa is sent to befriend him and acclimate him to the island, simply because before coming to the island, she had lived in California for a couple of years.

What follows is a story of a brief friendship where two people who are unwilling to show their faces to each other share stories while a dividing curtain hangs between them.

This was easily the best story in the book; it was a poignant episode, and I almost wanted to cry at the end. The tone of the story reminded me of Ruskin Bond, and that made me love it all the more. Teresa (if that really is her name) had a style of narration that easily conveyed her resignation to her fate without her ever saying those words out loud. Her friendship with Jack is one that warms the heart, which as you read, you also know won’t last forever.

I loved this story; I truly did.

Superassassin — 4/5

This is a disturbing tale of a teen who’s a Green Lantern fan. The catch: he’s delusional and believes that he’s a mutant hero, and that anyone who offends him or harms him is evil and needs to be taken care of. The reason why you can sort of forgive him: he has an unstable home life, and it’s evident that’s why he’s filled his head with fantasy.

This story gave me chills, because of how deluded he is. It also gave us solid glimpses into why his psyche is the way it is, though he doesn’t quite think there’s anything wrong with what’s going on — it’s all obstacles and enemies and thought bubbles and comic book panels in his head.

It was well written, and I liked reading it. It made me uncomfortable, which is always indicates that the writer has been effective.

Help — 2.25/5

A weird little story about the narrator, his cousins, his uncle (who’s in love with their First Lady) and the time the Beatles visited Manila. So essentially the Beatles insult the First Lady, and the narrator’s Uncle Willie gets offended on her behalf. He enlists his nephews’ help to teach the Beatles a lesson at the airport, where he works as the head of security.

It’s a weird little story because it seems larger than life, something that comes out well only in anthologies such as this one. The uncle has a shrine for the First Lady, and his devotion is what makes the plot of shows like Criminal Minds. He’s obsessed with her.

The entire concept of a bunch of teen boys “teaching” the Beatles a lesson, when they’re all just fans of the British band and can’t wait to meet their heroes is hilarious, and is the crux of this story; the point which was supposed to provide as twist to the plot.

And yet, the seemingly promised twist never did come. It’s like someone started telling me a joke, and while I’m still waiting for the punchline, the person announces that the joke is over. This story had a lot of potential, and I’m disappointed that it didn’t capitalise on it’s whacky premise.

Save the I-Hotel — 5/5

Vicente and Fortunado are two Filipino men who (illegally) emigrated to the US and settled down in San Francisco, working as bellhops and valets for the hotels nearby. They take up residence at the abandoned I-Hotel, where immigrants from various countries have taken up residence.

It’s narrated from Fortunado’s POV, with a dual timeline: it’s set in the 30’s, back when interracial romance was illegal and a criminally punishable offence in the US, and it’s also set in more recent times, where the government is evicting the squatters in order to demolish the building (while protestors protest against the demolition).

With themes of loneliness, internalised-homophobia, unrequited one-sided love, interracial romance, jealousy, unrevealed betrayal, and emotional manipulation, this is easily my second most favourite in this collection. It’s raw and it’s evocative, and despite Fortunado’s shitty actions, you can’t help but understand why he does what he does.

A definite 5/5 from me.

L’Amour, CA — 2/5

This story was supposed to be directly inspired by the author’s personal life (as promised in elegant prose in the foreword of this collection), and it was honestly the story I was looking forward to the most.

And yet, the story ended so abruptly, with no logical conclusion, that I was still left going, “Huh?” — it still needed a couple of more scenes; which has been my primary grouse with this book for a while now.

The narrator (who’s 8), his sister Isa (16), and brother Darwin (12) all move to the States from the Philippines with their parents, in order to facilitate their dad’s job (he works for the US Navy). The 80’s clearly wasn’t a great time for people of colour, and it takes time and effort for Isa and the narrator to settle in into their respective schools.

It was easily my quickest read, seeing as this was the one I really wanted to get to, and yet, the story was flat, with a seemingly incomplete plot. It might have been the author’s favourite, but it sure wasn’t mine.

————————

So calculating the average: 3.43/5

The author definitely has loads of potential, and maybe a proper novel would work better than short stories. The stories where the author went for the most controversial topics were definitely the best, and I really hope he goes on to write full length novels with the same verve that he handled these topics.

Thanks to the publisher and Edelweiss for providing me with a DRC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.

[Emmkay · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very readable, interesting debut collection of short stories set in the Philippines and the US. Tenorio is especially gifted at creating characters I felt invested in within just a few pages. I think my favourite may have been "Save the I-Hotel," a wonderful story about two Filipino-American men in their 60s who have lived for decades in a hotel in what was once Manilatown in San Francisco, and now face eviction. It was masterful - the tenderness and layers of the relationship between the two friends, the weaving in of history I hadn't been aware of ("Neither of them married. No one in the I-Hotel ever did, and when they wanted to, the law forbade them. No Filipino could bring a wife or fiancee to the States back then, and there were no Filipinas here.").

Also very memorable was "The View from Culion," set in a leprosy colony in the Philippines, which is narrated by a young woman whose brief prior life in the US before she was brought to the colony means she is tapped to speak with a recently afflicted AWOL American soldier. Or "Help," in which the teen narrator's uncle tasks him and his friends with launching a physical attack on the Beatles when they insult Imelda Marcos during a tour of the Phlippines - that was good too....

[gpears · Rating 4 out of 5]

immersive, evocative stories that pulled off a lot of emotional depth despite their length..every story had me wanting more!! The Brothers and Save the I-Hotel were particularly heartbreaking and Superassassin was another standout

[Lulu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Monstress is an awesome collection of short stories that focus on Filipino culture and experiences. Each story is packed with complex and emotional storylines and characters, but the prose is simple and beautiful. I was seriously blown away by this author’s storytelling.

[Mia · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a Filipino NON immigrant and at at the same time a huge fan of immigrant stories (A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain, Unaccustomed Earth, etc) this collection of short stories is such an awesome, welcome addition to the relatively few texts on the Filipino immigrant experience. But, as I've come to realize what makes it such a great read isn't so much about the "Filipino-ness" of it, or to be specific the "Filipino-American-ness" of it so much as the fact that the stories themselves were just so well-written. It is as if the book is a collection of well-written stories first, and a collection of well-written IMMIGRANT stories second.

It's hard to pick a favorite story; each one is pitch perfect; at turns heartbreaking and hilarious, but never maudlin, never patronizing. The characters are all at once displaced, broken, misguided, but never false.

There are difficult truths of immigrant life, as well as life in general, in the book, some we already know, some we pretend we don't. But, as one of the characters says, "And this is the truth I don’t want to know: that the ones who leave and the ones who get left keep living their lives, whatever the distance between.”"

Excellent, excellent read.

[Maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brothers is my favorite.

[Jenny · Rating 4 out of 5]

This final Hyphen review ended up taking a different approach from my original version but it's probably better this way.

Lysley Tenorio’s debut short story collection Monstress takes us through the metropolis of the San Francisco Bay Area to wasteland cities in central California. Tenorio’s Filipino and Filipino American characters dream of California as a Promised Land that will give them money, love, fame, or acceptance. This may sound like a typical first and second-generation immigrant story, but these worn-out themes are resuscitated through Tenorio’s sharp voice, fresh perspective, and dark humor.

His protagonists are outcasts, freaks, or nonconformists -- like the transgender waitress in “The Brothers,” the AWOL American soldier man trapped in a Filipino leper colony in “The View from Culion,” the disturbed comic-obsessed boy in “Superassassin,” or even the teenager imagining escape from her drab life and overprotective parents in “L’amour, CA.” These outsiders yearn for a better life than what’s been given them and search for a place where they’ll be wanted. It is Tenorio’s uncanny ability to make us see the humanity in these outsiders that make his stories distinct.

In the title story, Checkers Rosario is a washed-up Filipino filmmaker who specializes in low budget horror flicks. His regular leading lady, Reva Gogo, whose acting credits include Bat-Winged Pygmy Queen and Two-Headed Bride of Two-Headed Dracula, is considered a “mistress of monsters” or a “monstress.” Their failed careers are given a second chance by Gaz Gazman, a California movie producer, who wants to take footage from Checkers’ monster movies and splice them into his own sci-fi thriller. The deliciously smarmy Gaz Gazman ends up being a no-name film student who works out of his mother’s basement. With a gay leading man delivering canned lines to a leading lady who normally howls and hisses at the camera, you can guess that the movie winds up being an ideal pick for a night of Mystery Science Theatre 3000 (the real inspiration behind this story is Horror of the Blood Monsters, credited in some circles as the worst movie of all time). Though Checkers and Reva end up having creative differences and she shows him her actual claws, she still understands that Checkers loves her like she is “a thing of unequaled beauty” -- he is able to continue loving a monstress. Tenorio is able to make us see past the space sauna and homemade rubber tentacles and constructs a story that is, in the end, a sweet story about having Hollywood dreams with Roger Corman budgets.

The poetry of Tenorio’s writing style is further showcased in the story “Save the I Hotel.” Amidst the backdrop of one of the defining moments in the Asian American Civil Rights Movement, the forced evacuation of the I Hotel in 1977, the story tells how two Filipino immigrant bachelors in anti-miscegenation San Francisco carve out a space for themselves and find a home in each other. Forty-three years before, as a 24-year old, Vicente was Fortunado’s brash and charismatic guide to the ins and outs of Manilatown. After an event one night that lasts a few seconds, their illicit love affairs make Fortunado question both his identity and loyalty to Vicente. “[Fortunado] would stand by the rail and look out at the Bay Bridge, which was nearly finished. Its progress was evidence that the world still turned forward, leaving behind a night when he was truly happy, and the moment he was utterly finally known.” In this story, the characters embody the unbridled optimism of youth. Their excitement about the possibilities of love is captured in clandestine meetings and dark, forbidden kisses.

In an interview with the Examiner, Tenorio says his ideas come from taking snippets of bizarre historic events and re-imagining them as a backdrop in which to place his own characters. This process gives the reader sometimes playful or sometimes dark insights into possible motivations behind these events. For example, “Help” was inspired by the true story of how a group of Marcos sympathizers attacked the Beatles at the Manila airport for snubbing the president and first lady. Tenorio reinvents the reason for the pathetic attack as a display of loyalty from a fanatical high-level Marcos security guard. “Felix Starro” was based on a real-life Filipino faith healer who “look[ed] ageless…like Jesus or Dick Clark.” The shyster’s business prospects are threatened by his grandson who is tired of scamming poor and gullible Filipinos. These retellings infuse the actual events with a new take.

Lysley Tenorio’s moving collection takes you on the emotional journey of his characters and, despite their monstrosities, I wanted to make fun of Doris Day with them in a darkened Manila movie theatre, cry out our broken hearts listening to a record of “Johnny Angel” over and over again, look out at the night sky of San Francisco and contemplate our dreams, and slap the stupid out of them when they start dating losers. I can’t wait to see what Tenorio comes up with next.

Goodreads add: I learned if people call you "monstrous" you say "Bitch, that's monstress." Snap!

[Abbyturnsthepage · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to Netgalley, Ecco Books, and Lysley Tenorio for allowing me to read and review Monstress.

I’ve been meaning to read this for awhile now as part of my quest to read more books written by Filipino/ Fil-Am authors. Imagine my surprise to see Monstress available on Netgalley! It was originally published in 2012, but a new edition of this short story collection is set to hit shelves this July along with The Son of Good Fortune, Lysley Tenorio’s first novel.

Tenorio explores Filipino culture in these eight short stories, but behind the layers of being Filipino/Filipino-Am, he pulls his readers into deeper realms of wanting to be seen, understood, and most importantly, loved. Over and over, his outcast protagonists fight their battles of acceptance from peers, from family, and from their own selves.

For roughly 200 pages, Tenorio left me asking for more. His writing style is beautiful and his stories are relatable across all ethnic barriers. I look forward to reading more of his work.

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

In another life I was a child protective social worker in San Diego. My brush with the Filipino culture was only a taste and never really had the feeling that I could assess situations accurately. My one cautionary note was that the males were unpredictable, macho and not to be messed with.

Tenorio takes the reader to the unfamiliar back streets of the Filipino reality and helped me to meet complex and extraordinary personalities that otherwise would have existed only in his unique perception. This is the first "one book one San Diego" that came close to the hype. Worth your time to experience this book.

[Armand · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a Filipino-American, I can relate to the cultural anecdotes and the common themes of identity and assimilation which weave their way through each story. These themes felt familiar yet fresh within Tenorio's imaginative storytelling. All of the main characters struggle to find themselves while either toeing the line between the Philippines and America, dealing with sexual/gender identities and family relationships or simply growing up. They each deal with love and betrayal with sadness and humor and each story seemingly cuts you off wanting more. Very enjoyable read!

[Rocco Versaci · Rating 5 out of 5]

Superb collection of short stories by a writer that I just happened to stumble upon. Hard pressed to pick a favorite among these gems, but one frontrunner is "Superassassin," which features a comic book-obsessed, unreliable narrator who thinks he's a super hero in his high school but is more likely a super villain.

[Sandy B · Rating 3 out of 5]

A sincere thank you to HarperCollins and NetGalley for the ARC, a reissued collection of short stories about the Filipino immigrant experience in America by Lysley Tenorio. I’m not a big consumer of the genre, but I really enjoyed this collection of tales. As a Filipina, I’m constantly on the hunt for books about the culture or by Fil-Am authors. This did not disappoint as Tenorio’s writing is strong, and imagery vivid. He portrays heartbreaking aspects of mid-20th century Filipino immigrant life, with renderings of prejudice, economic hardship, and community exclusion best expressed in “Save the I-Hotel” and “L’amour”. I won’t reveal spoilers, but I was taken aback, and immediately drawn in, once the setting of “The View from Culion” revealed itself. The eight stories shared some common features, including a melancholy narrative undertone, even in the more overtly comical stories “Monstress” and “Help” (the latter about an Imelda Marcos-obsessed Manila airport security guard ready to stage a public assault on the Beatles for their perceived slight of his idol, at their departure gate). Another resonant thread - the presence of the cold, distant and/or unfeeling mother in at least half of the stories - while the fathers and adult male figures enjoyed a congenial, if somewhat hapless, portrayal.

Filipinos in particular - even American-born 2nd generation readers - will no doubt recognize, and be delighted by the cultural references. The religious shrines in the homes, the indigenous food dishes, the fresh-off-the-plane immigrant - “Hello. I’m Bery pleased to meet you.”

Tenorio has another book out this summer, and I’ll be in line to read it. I’m rating Monstress 3.5 stars, rounded down to 3 in GR, mainly because the last story which drew me in through a beautifully crafted family relationship, broke my heart so suddenly on the very last page. (Not Tenorio’s fault, but it was a reminder as to why I’m not a fan of the short story genre - you finally start getting invested in the character arcs, only for them to disappear with 3 pages to go.)

[Maria Ella · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't know where to start, really. All of its stories are wonderfully made.

[✮ ~ soph ~ ✮ · Rating 3 out of 5]

my rating: ✦✦✦ — 3.5 stars, rounded down

–✧–

“‘You make a good monster. You’re a mistress of monsters.’ He chuckled. ‘You’re a monstress.’”

–✧–

Monstress is a wide, vast collection of short stories, each one greatly varying in message, tone, and plot, yet all anchored by a main Filipino character. some stories are sentimental and touching, and yet some—albeit with captivating writing—convey foggy meanings. i do like how everything ties back into being a “monstress,” one way or another; whether it’s an aspiring actress who only gets cast as monsters yet yearns for something more, or a transgender woman who isn’t accepted by her family, or a lonely girl with leprosy, and more—everything has a clear tie to the title, which is thoughtfully chosen. my personal favourite short stories from this collection were The View from Culion and L'amour, CA .

as mentioned earlier, though, i don’t exactly love how some stories seem to have foggy meanings. i’m not saying they wasted my time, just that i couldn’t see what the author was trying to say. but who knows—maybe i just wasn’t thinking deeply enough.

–✧–

stats:
spice 🌶️: 0/5
emotion 💧: 2/5
memorability 💭: 1/5
thought-provoking 🧠: 2/5

[Chris Blocker · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have an aversion to rating short story collections. Some collections aren’t that hard to rate, because all the stories are equally good or bad. Then there are collections where the stories are all over the place, and how do you rate that? Do you go with the best? The overall? It’s like watching all the Star Trek films ever made and having to rate them as one. Not an easy task. And then, how will others interpret your score? Will they ignore a great series because a crap film like Nemesis drastically brought down the rating?

The problem is, I’ve started this review all wrong, because I’ve used words like “bad” and “crap” and the reader may already have it in his/her mind that there must be some crap stories in this collection. Far from it. Every single story in Monstress is good. But then there are some that are great. In fact, the collection starts with three phenomenal stories that are among the best I’ve read in some time. The remaining stories are all really quite good, but they’re not great, so when you see those four stars attached to this review, know I don’t give that fifth star with some reluctance.

Now I’m three paragraphs in and I still haven’t sold anyone on reading this book. So all these stories are touching and slightly quirky. They’re original tales full of inventive characters. Regardless of what is going on in the background, I think it’s the characters who stand out the most; they’re so unique but wholly human. There’s considerable heart and passion behind this collection, and I look forward to reading more from Tenorio.

If I haven’t sold you yet, just give it three stories. Maybe the first three, because they were the ones I personally enjoyed the most. Or maybe any other three. Perhaps whatever three stories you chose to read first in this collection will be the best. It may just be that once the bar is set so high, it’s hard for the remaining stories to compete. I stick behind my four stars, but with noted hesitation.

[Kate Z · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was the One Book, One San Diego selection for 2014. It's a collection of eight short stories - each of them is a little "strange" but I have found that the stories and the humanity contained within them has lingered with me and caused me to reflect a bit on why I label them as "strange."

The story that stuck with me the most is the story called "Brothers" about the death of a transgender man who has been estranged from his family because he revealed to them that he was transgender. After he dies (of an acute asthma attack) his brother and mother go about sorting out the details of his funeral. There is a scene in the story where his mother is duct-taping his corpse to flatten his chest (he has had either hormone treatment or implants so that he has breasts) - that scene has really stayed with me.

I've read two other books recently …. one is a middle grade book called Out of My Mind and the other is The Book of Unknown Americans and both of these books speak to a similar theme or topic … marginalized people(s) in our society. All three books have really gotten me thinking about that subject.

With Monstress the writing is really good and Tenorio has a real gift, I think, for the pacing of a story and bringing out his characters. There is something that rings very true about these characters, although I think many readers will still struggle with them because the settings or conflicts in each story are seemingly very strange.

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Literary short fiction by the much-decorated Tenorio. I liked several of these stories; Tenorio's voice is gentle and humane and he looks carefully at family relationships, race, gender, longing, and irony. Most of the stories comment on the collision of Filipino/a and American culture, as well as on the confusions of love across gender roles. I expect to talk more about at least one of these stories on Late Night Library sometime soon. Good collection.

[Christina Mitchell · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the 2014 One Book, One San Diego winner - a community reading program sponsored by the San Diego Public Library and KPBS. I will have it read before reading events kick off in October. Stay tuned for my thoughts.
__________________________________

Update: I have read it. I very much enjoyed it. I am going to the One Book, One San Diego kick off on October 13 where to author will be in attendance. I am going to hold off on writing anything further until after that time. Cheers!

[Libby · Rating 5 out of 5]

Super good! Loved all these slightly strange stories!

[Chad · Rating 5 out of 5]

The characters in Monstress, Lysley Tenorio’s debut short story collection, include an aging B-rate Filipina actress, a charlatan faith healer, a leper, and a man who organizes a plot to beat up the Beatles. The stories are set in either California or the Philippines, and they explore the tensions between traditional Filipino values and modern American lifestyles. Tenorio’s imaginative stories analyze these conflicts through the characters’ yearnings: the desire to be visible; the acknowledgment of love; the pain of abandonment; and, perhaps the collection’s most inexhaustible theme, the need to be known.

The story “The View from Culion” takes place in a leprosarium that was located on an island in the Palawan province of the Philippines. Teresa, now in her twenties, has been at the colony since her mother abandoned her there when she was ten years old. She knows she’ll never leave the colony, even though she’s been in remission for three years. The administration at Culion takes meticulous care to make sure the leprosy doesn’t spread off the island. The leprosarium even has its own currency, “a way of preventing anything we might touch from escaping into the world.”

When the story begins, Jack, an AWOL American solider, shows up as the colony’s newest patient. Jack lives in self-imposed isolation in a concrete shack on top of a large hill. Sister Marguerite, the colony’s director and a mother figure for Teresa, asks Teresa to visit Jack. Because Teresa lived in California when she was younger, Sister Marguerite thinks Jack might feel more comfortable talking with Teresa.

Jack’s living quarters are completely covered with black curtains. They line the walls and divide the main room in two, making it impossible for the characters to see each other. Teresa and Jack are cloaked in darkness both physically and emotionally, but Jack eventually describes his physical characteristics to Teresa. He tells her he has brown hair, a “sleepy” eye, a square jaw and a cleft in his chin. Teresa relies on her imagination to fill in the rest of the details, and she draws a sketch of Jack.

Soon after this, she arrives at the colony hospital for a routine checkup. The nurse informs her that the “American” is also at the hospital, waiting to see a doctor. Curious, Teresa opens the door to Jack’s room, and sees him, knows him, for the first time. The site is grotesque—far from the matinee idol description Jack provided. Teresa describes this moment of recognition as follows: “We look at each other, at our sameness, for just a moment more./I long for the black curtain, for the fabric to rise like a tide and drown us both in darkness.”

Jack doesn’t know that the woman who walked into his examination room is Teresa, and Teresa prefers to keep it this way. She wants to preserve Jack’s illusion about what she looks like—even though, for Teresa, a metaphorical curtain has been lifted, destroying her own fantasies about Jack’s appearance. A few days later, she informs a visiting group of Peace Corps volunteers that there’s an American solider living on the colony, and they should take him back to California.

Jack leaves the island without ever seeing Teresa, and the question arises: Did Teresa inform the American volunteers about Jack so he could escape the leprosarium? Or did she do this so that she wouldn’t have to eventually show Jack her leprosy-ravaged body? Jack’s departure from the colony means that Teresa’s image will exist forever in his imagination. He’ll never really see her.

In “Save the I-Hotel,” the need for recognition focuses on the love Fortunado has for Vicente. Both characters are Filipino immigrants, and their narrative takes place in San Francisco during two time periods. The “present’ moment is 1977, and Tenorio skillfully shows us Fortunado and Vicente’s history with a series of flashbacks set in the mid-to-late 1930s. The two characters meet when Fortunado is twenty, Vicente twenty-four. They rent rooms next to each other at the I-Hotel in San Francisco’s Manilatown, and they remain life companions for forty-three years. One drunken night, Fortunado and Vicente share a kiss, and this experience helps Fortunado “to understand what it was like to kiss the one you knew, perhaps loved.” Fortunado will revisit this brief encounter for the next forty years.

“Save the I-Hotel,” is a beautifully structured, complex narrative, and Tenorio interweaves interesting details of San Francisco history. In the flashback scenes, Fortunado watches the construction of the Bay Bridge from his room at the I-Hotel. As the bridge develops, so does Fortunado’s love for Vicente. As Tenorio describes, “he (Fortunado) would…look out at the Bay Bridge, which was nearly finished. Its progress was evidence that the world still turned forward, leaving behind a night when he was truly happy, and the moment he was utterly and finally known.”

Fortunado and Vicente’s relationship explores the juxtaposition of visibility and invisibility. Toward the end of the story, Tenorio writes, “Fortunado understood how difficult love could be, how its possibility hinged on a delicate balance between complete anonymity and the undeniable need to be known.”

The need for acknowledgment, the basic human desire for acceptance and understanding, is prevalent in several other stories in Monstress. In “Felix Starro,” the story’s protagonist is an assistant for a ceremony called the “Holy Blessed Extraction of Negativities on unwell Filipino Americans.” Papa Felix, the protagonist’s grandfather, deceives ailing customers into believing that he’s removing life-threatening diseases or various maladies. What he’s actually doing is reminiscent of a magic trick. Instead of extracting diseases, Papa Felix pulls out chicken livers from hidden compartments and tells customers he’s removed their “negativities.” Papa Felix is successful because he’s providing suffering people with a “breath of relief that there is someone in the world, finally, who understands what hurts you.”

In “The Brothers,” Edmond battles grief for Eric, his transsexual brother, after Eric unexpectedly dies. Edmond and Eric’s mother, who proclaimed Eric as “dead to her” when he came out as transsexual, insists on a traditional nine-day novena. Before the public viewing of Eric’s body, the mother tapes bandages around Eric’s breasts to make them look “like they never existed.” The mother chooses her traditional Filipino beliefs over trying to better know or understand Eric, but Edmond reaches a deeper identification with his brother. By helping his mother prepare for the novena—and by developing an acquaintance with Raquel, one of Eric’s transsexual friends—Edmond comes to better understand Eric after his death.

“Superassassin” explores an unstable, superhero-obsessed teenager who seeks “justice” against a school bully by swapping the bully’s deodorant with a blowtorch. Like Teresa in “The View from Culion,” the protagonist in “Superassassin” has a vivid imagination. With a father who abandoned him and an alcoholic mother who recycles deadbeat lovers, the teenager feels invisible. He believes his acts of “justice” are somehow restoring order in a cruel, anonymous world.

Monstress is a stunning collection, and Tenorio writes with compassion about the irony between needing the ones you love to recognize you, and the dangers of revealing yourself to the ones you love. When it comes to love, the characters in Monstress often wait years to receive it, and when it comes it’s given only in tiny quantities—as small and unsatisfying as the chicken livers Papa Felix extracts from the afflicted.