By the author of the award-winning The Ghost Garden, a bravely imagined, deeply empathetic novel of two adolescent boys, bound by friendship and a terrible secret. With love and sex so deeply entwined with betrayal and abuse, how does a boy grow up?
Monday Rent Boy begins in Somerset, England, in the mid-1980s, with the winning and heart-warming story of two 13-year-old friends and fellow altar boys, Arthur Barnes and Ernie Castlefrank. Endearing outcasts, they try not to speak of the secret tie that binds both boys are routinely preyed on by The Zipper, their nickname for Father Ziperto, the local Catholic priest. Still, they find adventure and release in the mischief they get up to together, as each also tries to survive in other ways. Arthur, a great reader and denier of reality, finds an ally in town bookseller Marina Phillips. Ernie, a gifted mathematician and animal lover, is not so lucky. As he and Arthur age out of the abuse, Ernie notices younger and equally vulnerable boys being recruited. When he tries to blow the whistle, nobody believes him. At 16, he disappears, a loss that almost destroys his best friend but also confirms for Arthur that he was smart to stay silent.
Arthur eventually also turns his back on the mystery of Ernie's disappearance, but his bookselling mentor and friend Marina Phillips finds a way to follow Ernie where rage and betrayal has led him—into the darkest corners of the dark web—a search that ultimately helps Arthur reckon with what happened to them both. In the novel’s stunning, deeply affecting conclusion, Doherty draws a line directly from the covered-up abuse of children by Catholic priests to the current proliferation of child pornography and predators online—miraculously revealing the true heart of darkness while managing to affirm the light.
Susan Doherty, educated at Concordia University and the University of Toronto, has worked at Maclean's Magazine and ran her own advertising production company for 20 years. Her debut novel, A Secret Music, published in 2015, led her to the Douglas Institute, where she spent 14 years volunteering with people suffering from extreme psychosis. The Ghost Garden is the culmination of her work in humanizing schizophrenia. Her novel Monday Rent Boy explores child abuse and the dangers of the Internet. Susan is an advocate for children experiencing trauma and the challenges of transitioning to adulthood. She also teaches creative writing to women struggling with addiction, mental health issues, and homelessness.
TW: grooming, paedophilia, sexual abuse, substance abuse, physical abuse
From the blurb: “…Doherty draws a line directly from the covered-up abuse of children by Catholic priests to the current proliferation of child pornography and predators online—miraculously revealing the true heart of darkness while managing to affirm the light.”
Fabulous writing and storytelling!
Gripping, but heartbreaking.
There is so much soul, love, pain, grief…
The bond of friendship was extraordinarily strong and so nicely laid out.
The characters were well developed, so lively, so lovable and so touching.
The story is told by multiple POV.
I just can’t find the words to describe this work.
The author portrayed deep emotions as if she had been through the same traumas. It was quite impressive.
I have no idea how this title got my attention, but after reading the synopsis I knew I had to read it. And I am so glad that I took the chance and prioritized it over so many title that I own and still have to read.
I read the hardcover edition while simultaneously listening to the audiobook, and I absolutely loved the parts narrated by Simon Blake.
Hardcover (Random House Canada): 368 pages (cover to cover), divided into three parts and a total of 36 chapters.
e-book (Kobo): 336 pages (default), 110k words
Audiobook narrated by Simon Blake (simply superb!) and Helen Taylor: 12.6 hours (at normal speed), unabridged.
PS: this book was a finalist for the Paragraphe Hugh MacLennan Fiction Prize
“The boy’s polished black Oxfords were neatly tied, his trousers ironed and tidily hemmed. I turned away, but Ernie couldn’t stop staring.
Maybe the boy would adjust, I thought, even bounce back.
No. He would never bounce back.”
Set during the mid-1980s Glastonbury, it is the story of two thirteen-year-old best friends - Arthur Barnes, an avid reader and Ernie Castlefrank, animal lover and mathematics whiz. Despite their different personalities and interests, they share a deep bond of being the neighborhood outcasts due to their rebellious antics and their wayward family lifestyles, but still the most heartiest of companions. But, even with their level of trust, there is one binding secret they have in common that neither of them is able to admit aloud - '...which made it seem like nothing terrible had actually happened. Better that than to divulge what had been asked of us, or to worry about what was next'; of how they both have been one of the altar boys favored by the local Catholic priest, Father Ziperto aka The Zipper. Too afraid to acknowledge the role they fulfill in the locked vestry of the chapel as a Monday Rent Boy. Their path of pain unfolds in three respective parts, where Susan Doherty portrays how these two young boys struggled with what has happened to them, while trying to make their lives worthwhile, till the point that it is but a stain that can no longer be avoided. 😟 It is that betrayal which ultimately breaks apart their steadfast friendship, severing their ties, as they individually venture onto two tragic paths of seeking ways to cope with the guilt they could not erase, and the heaviness that lingered in their hearts and souls.
“When we reached our usual spot at the cemetery, Ernie slumped to the ground and put his head in his hands. I sat down beside him and reached out a tentative hand, which he slapped away.
“Why are you hanging around with me? Leave, for God’s sake,” he hissed. “You’re more of a loser than me. A book nerd, an idiot, a total mama’s boy. I don’t need anything from you. Get lost.”
But I saw through all that nonsense. “It’ll work out for Nathan,” I said. “Somehow, it’s going to work out.”
The first part alternates between Arthur and Ernie's perspective, as they go about their daily lives and shows glimpses into their memories of what they had to do at the Father's request - how they were forced to stay silent - a warning instilled in them since their childhood - 'if you tell someone, you kill us both' - a burden of silence that keeps them mum, even now. 😥 Arthur refused to acknowledge it, hoping that by keeping quiet, he could pretend it ever happened, choosing to bury his denial in reading books and dreaming of a future where he can escape this memory. 'I didn’t know how to escape, or where to go, or who to tell. We were prisoners because of what we had agreed to do, over and over again.' It is a sharp contrast to Ernie who is aching to scream it at someone of how he is being violated - choosing to act in aggression against his stepfather - physically harming himself - long for his older brother's acceptance and still feel that helplessness of being unable to help a tortured animal in pain. 💔💔
Their friendship was something so precious to both of them - a solace against the grief of their lives, especially Ernie, who spent more time at Arthur's home than his own troubled one. The author breathed life into both of them very well; I got to know who they were as individuals and how greatly affected they were about what had happened to them. 🥺 I don't blame Arthur for staying silent - 'I was trapped either way: speak up or shut up' - for feeling relief that he is no longer preyed upon as he gets older and no longer fulfills the Father's wishes, but he still carries that shameful gift of being recognized as one of his chosen ones - a silver cross that is the catalyst to which spurs Ernie to ask Arthur for his support, when he no longer can stay silent - hoping a man of higher power will believe what is happening to them. Ernie's - desperation for his assistance - that if two voices speak up now, maybe people will believe them, then others can be saved from the abuse of the Zipper who 'had an uncanny knack for finding the weakest boys, separating them from the pack, and then killing them one by one from the inside out.' 😢 But, can you fault Arthur for being too afraid - too ashamed of what would happen if others found out - the guilt that would torment his mother that she was helpless to protect him - powerless to the very minister that she trusted? Could he, the dutiful son, expose his mother to such grief?
“I was weeping for Ernie, for myself and for my lack of courage, completely undone by the headmaster’s compassionate touch.”
It is his refusal at the most volatile of moments that tears them apart, setting the course for their choice of a future without the other. A decision that leads Ernie to lash out in vindictive revenge, forgoing his own pain, at the cost of other much younger unsuspecting children, seeking out the most suitable f contenders. That keen hurt of frustration at his own best friend's betrayal of not supporting him - it is that burden that I felt so much pity for him - and confusion as to why he decided to do what he did. Even if necessary circumstances force him into doing so, why?? Why did he have to get involved?? 😢 The guilt of denial, the inability for the the truth to matter eats away at both of them; through the passage of time, we get to see just how much it affected them - mentally, physically, and emotionally. 'For sure, Ernie had stopped crying a long time ago. That’s the thing. When you do something over and over again, it starts to look and sound and feel normal.' And the fact that I was torn between being empathetic and sympathetic to both their situations, is a testament of powerful effective writing. The ease in which the author guided us through both perspectives, the subtlety in which she touched upon their emotional and vulnerable states of mind really moved me. 😔
It is never easy reading a story that deals with a sensitive and difficult subject such as child abuse and child pornography; but the author skillfully addressed it - without any need for gratuitous or explicit content- with just the right amount of details that got under my skin to make me feel deeply uncomfortable at how how wrong it was, is commendable. 👍🏻👍🏻 The idea of him or anyone else being shopped around made me feel despicable, dirty, complicit.' She wrote Ernie and Arthur's separate thoughts and feelings in a way that is so fleeting and limited in the words, but their shame - their pain - their loss of innocence - and the anger of longing for a life without knowing that they could been victims of such an indecent act could exist - hurt my heart - in more ways than any graphic details could. 🥺
It is only a very slight mention, but it is enough to have the pity and ache rip through me, enough to show how helpless they were, even when they felt complacent. It was unnerving and unsettling - and then I thought of the victims who have experienced this, and lived with it - and I realized my own discomfort pales in comparison to theirs. 'Even more shameful? My complicity in our encounters. There were times when it hurt, or I bled, or I was scared, degraded, embarrassed, guilty, but I’d also felt physical pleasure—which confused and horrified me. Is it still abuse if you enjoy it?' We don't need details to know just how much damage was done that affected their mental and physical state as viscerally as it did - it was palpable in their actions, alone. She does not shy away in showing how grown men manipulate children with their words - silencing them into submission out of fear and gratitude for the kindness they choose to bestow upon them. 😟 It is probably the highest praise for how skillfully the author painted a subject so very disturbing, but still makes it one that is not about assigning blame or pointing fingers, but to understand the depths of where it comes from. And what we, as individuals can do to prevent it from happening again.
“When the saints and the tormentors are one and the same, we do not matter.” I heard the catch in his voice despite the hardness of his words.
After that we were silent, like the old days when we each carried the burden alone.”
The next two parts, in my opinion, made the narrative slow down and lose a little of that visceral tug at my heart. For as time goes on, the two young men move forward in their lives - or, are they? Now eighteen, Arthur is trying to live a normal college life - Ernie is surviving. We are then treated to Marina Philips' perspective, a bookshop owner who saw the untapped potential in Arthur, who pushed him to further his studies and not squander his literary talents. She was also one who was privy to their deep friendship of how close they were to one another. And as it is, in a strange twist of fate of circumstance, she recalls that perhaps there was something she had missed in their company - signs that she didn't quite notice before. But, somehow, by the mercy of God or the hand of Fate, the truth slowly starts to unravel for her in a strange course if events that makes the truth now impossible for her to deny or ignore or not act upon. Even if it is years too late - it is not too late to save another life. It seems wrong of me to not appreciate her involvement, for it is through her kindness and acceptance of Arthur, he was able to save himself - at least a little bit. I think, however, it would have added much more depth if we had more of Ernie's point of view and the challenges he faced. 😞 I wanted to know more of his thoughts and his reactions - we never get to learn about how much he has sacrificed and the toll of how the path he chose has affected him. And well, I guess, there was a reason behind it. 😔
The final part covers how technological advances have made the lucrative market for these sick and twisted people who deserve a punishment worse than death have broadened their reach from just photographs by hand to expanding it on the dark web - a system so debase and corrupt, I feel sick just thinking about it. The advent of the internet made the demand for such a disgusting act rise exponentially, where predators are relentless in deriving the most pleasure for their own personal twisted satisfaction. It made me so angry that I wanted to cry, because they were so proud of their success and it disgusted me. I wish they would be smite with the most vile and cruelest form of torture that they feel every bit of agony on their flesh! 😠😠 And while I felt that this portion lose a bit of that humane personal touch with the technical jargon of their sick profitable business, I also understood the necessity of it to show just how low humanity will sick and not experience an iota of shame or guilt for their depraved sense of mind. It made the ending seem a bit rushed - almost as if there really is no other choice for those involved - that what we get is their redemption - an absolution of the guilt they've had to carry. ❤️🩹❤️🩹
“Remember when we lay in the arms of a sycamore tree and everything good seemed to be ahead of us? I could cry, but my eyes don’t make tears anymore.
They don’t even shut, as far as I can tell. I sleep with them wide open so my dreams won’t haunt me.”
The last chapter was heart-wrenching - my heart ached - my tears formed. Ernie's final message to Arthur was -- it was truly heartbreaking - like a confession that he had carried all his life. 😢 That final stage captured the two sides of how these unfortunate events affected them in two completely different ways of how you can either heal from the trauma of your past, or you can allow it to break your spirit, instead. Arthur - who chose to live a life of denial and silence, for the shame of admitting the truth was too great for him to bear, afraid that it would swallow him whole. And Ernie - whose actions of trying to speak up in his defense, cost him so much greater than what he thought - the revile and disgust of his own participation in taking advantage of another's poverty and desperation - "the predator always knows who is unprotected. Children are so gullible, and impressionable, and easily manipulated. watching other innocent lives get lost to the darkness' - whilst his own guilty conscience tears him up inside. 💔💔
The author states 'they travel the same road but to vastly different destinations. How is one boy engulfed, whereas the other is able to find a path out the other side of profound childhood trauma?' Can one escape it? What could have happened if their paths could have crossed again? If someone could have just loved them and been a shoulder for them to lean on - a sanctuary that existed beyond the walls of where one is expected to be safe? 🥺🥺 Perhaps things could have turned out differently if Arthur had supported Ernie, when he pleaded with him to stand by him? I can't blame one over the other. They both chose the way they knew best - from their own personal experiences - of how to cope with what was stolen from them. I wish more than anything they could have met each other again - could have reconciled - could have had a chance to overturn what had broken between them and find it in their hearts to forgive each other and themselves. 🙏🏻🙏🏻 “In my endless search for answers to an attic full of questions, I later understood that Poe’s “The Raven,” despite the spookiness, speaks of never being able to get out from underneath grief. That was the undeniable awfulness.”
There's a lot more I wish to talk about, but I think I've drained all that I could right now - to me, a life lost is the worst imaginable thing. I know you must be wondering why I continue to be drawn to such bleak books like this - and the truth is - I want the characters to survive - to triumph over the adversity that they've been put through - to believe that there is a shining light for all the hardship and pain they've endured. Sometimes I get lucky with a happy ending; sometimes - I don't. 😔 The selected quotes included at the story's intro are so aptly chosen, that re-reading them afterwards hurts me even more. For it breaks my heart that a character could not escape what they experienced. It hurts even more knowing that such darkness really exists, and we are powerless to stop these heinous crimes from happening - only unless we have the courage and the strength to fight up against these transgressions that are taking place under the manipulative guise of something else entirely - to protect those who can't speak for themselves, is there a hope for change. 😟
I know it is not something everyone would feel comfortable reading, and I understand that. People read to escape reality; I think I read to see that very reality we're running from - find a way to escape from it; if that makes any sense. One day I will write a short review that will surprise everyone that I can, in fact, write short reviews as I used to before. That day hasn't come yet, but, maybe - one day. Writing out lengthy thoughts is my cathartic way of processing all those emotions that I felt while reading, especially when it is one as gripping and emotional as what I just read. An important and complex story that definitely is not for everyone, but one I will not so very easily forget. 🙏🏻🙏🏻
This is a must read! Heartbreaking and tragic. Not an easy read with the heavy subject matter, but absolutely well written to the last page. There are plenty of ongoing thoughts long after I’ve closed the book. This will stay with you and it will provoke discussions. With such a dark topic there is hope and redemption. The author has done so well with balancing such a subject that has been controversial for so many, many years. Such a stunner of a book! 5/5
A gut-wrenching tragedy about child abuse rings, stolen innocence, and the earliest years of the dark internet. Equally, this novel is about the Catholic Church and how it chose to protect priests and silence the voices of their accusers.
I compare this novel to Indian Horse. Both are testaments to survivors, and a reminder that truth can not be deleted.
In the author's Acknowledgments, she refers to this book's "crushing subject matter." Indeed that is the main problem with the book — it is painfully difficult to endure.
I note the bar code classification is given as "FICTION — FRIENDSHIP/COMING OF AGE". The cover blurb calls it "haunting" and "a testament to the healing power of friendship." Apparently, the marketing department was also leery of the "crushing subject matter."
There are topics I do not want to know more about. I skipped parts of this book, and there were letters at the end that did not feel true to the story, the characters or anything, but were rather "on-the-nose" opportunities for the writer to parade a resolution.
[spoilers, maybe]. There are two boys featured here, and I was puzzled when the point of view moved to the bookstore owner. Was she intended to represent society in general, and how we tend to ignore unpleasant or disturbing realities? Was she the means to invite the reader into the story? Or was the author just unable to stay with the boys' stories as they matured. One boy in particular disappeared.
This is, as claimed, a brave, haunting story, but not one I wanted to read, and struggled to finish. Unpopular opinion here, but much of the book was, in turns, deeply disturbing and preposterous, and the plot depended on some incredible coincidences.
Low rating because, in many ways, I rather wish I had never read it. I feel the subject could have been handled much better as a non-fiction book, with interviews from a variety of people. I've read about the topic before, in memoirs and addiction studies, which offered more insights — in contrast, in this novel, the story of the two boys dwindles out of sight and that (to this reader) left a hole at the heart of the book.
I have not read a book that so closely describes the confusion, anger, abandonment, shame and terror childhood rape victims endure throughout their lives. The confusion and terror of their own sexuality when introduced to legitimate intimacy. The confusion, anger and shame when trying to forgive yourself from being coerced or bribed into a sexual relationship manipulating a child's vulnerability due to lack of family support. The anger, shame, and abandonment when being dismissed or even punished for telling the truth about the sexual abuse being inflicted on them. The anger and confusion of what respected institutes say their charter is and seeing how they are not what they say they are. When I read this book, having endured extensive sexual, physical and psychological abuse throughout most of my childhood, I knew there were going to be some similarities between my childhood experiences and those of the boys Susan writes about. I was not expecting their experiences described as closely to my own growing up and I was grateful to read that others know what torments a child after such extensive traumatic experiences. I didn't just read this book, I felt this book, some chapters I read through tears having similar experiences, thoughts and feelings about them as the boys describe. "Monday Rent Boy" shows what paths can result when a boy has some support or when a boy has no support after extensive abuse. Also, described is the massive multi-billion dollar child sex trafficking rings running throughout the world and who they partner up with. I have never been to group therapy for sexual abuse survivors, but after reading "Monday Rent Boy", and reading similar thoughts and feelings from the victims in this book has empowered me to try.
I received a copy of this book free from Goodreads Giveaways in exchange for a review, however all opinions are my own.
This was a gut-wrenching book that shattered me. The only thing harder than reading it, was putting it down. The perspective of the book alternated throughout the chapters, but it helped to create such character depth and voice. From chapter 1, I so desperately wanted to put a protective arm around Arthur and Ernie and to save them. The flow of the story was natural and easy, and while the material was dark, it was presented in a tasteful way that wasn't gory or depending on shock-value to get the message of the atrocities across. I will note as a survivor of abuse, the book was very triggering but by the time I finished, I almost felt like a weight had been lifted and I was seen/validated. The author really captured the complex feelings, which shows a lot of research and compassion went into the writing. I enjoyed her writing style so much, I will be seeking out her previous books!
This book is a must read. It is beautifully written. In spite of the complexity of the subject matter, I loved the main characters. I loved that it was written from multiple points of view. Not an easy book to write but definitely one that should be read and discussed.
If you are reading the reviews trying to decide whether you should read this book, please read this;
When I finished Monday Rent Boy I felt stunned. How did I not know this went on? Or did I know and just turn away? My guess is most people turn away from dark subjects such as this. I wasn't sure I even wanted to read, or that I could even keep reading. But I did.
As long as pedophilia and child molestation is kept in the shadows, ignored and treated as taboo, then the sick criminals who perpetrate this will just continue and nothing will change. Susan Doherty has dived in where others would never tread. This is a brave book written by a crusader. I was driven to tears (of anger), weeping for all the victims still out there who have been ignored, their stories denied, and all the children who were, and still are, burdened with way too much. This book is a lifeline for so many who are drowning behind the veil of disinterest and distate.
The toughest part of this book for me is not just the abuse, but the knowledge that children have to carry such a heavy load of shame and responsibility, for themselves and (the worst part) sometimes for their siblings and their friends. This is often because they are in difficult situations where the parents and guardians are dealing with their own demons and failings and the children have literally nowhere to turn. I thank the author for immersing herself in this darkness, day after day, month after month, to tell these stories. I pray she has angels of protection by her side at all times.
So if you are considering this book and you think "oh, I don't think I can read this". I respectfully say F-you. How hard can it be to open a book and read a few pages when others have lived this nightmare. By reading, you are participating in helping to lift the dark veil, once and for all, and you are helping shine some light into the cracks of this demonic place. NEVERMORE. NEVER MORE.
The relationship that I built with Ernie and Arthur while reading this book carried me through the last two weeks of my life in Italy. Every painful moment has been written in a way that does the story justice. Painful. Significant. Enthralling. Unforgettable.
Despite its focus on a difficult topic, I loved this book - the characters, relationships, and reflections are truly beautiful and thought provoking. It is an extremely well written story of trauma, recovery, and resilience and I look forward to reading this author’s future work!
On the surface, Monday Rent Boy is about two British boys who share a horrible secret. And you might be tempted to shy away from a book that tells the story about abuse in the Catholic Church and how the dark web fed the pathologic needs of sexual predators and made millionaires out of the perpetrators. But don’t. Susan Doherty manages to bring humanity to a dark reality in the enduring friendship between Arthur W Barnes and Ernest J. Castlefrank, two engaging characters that you will not forget. Her story is filled with subtle but thoughtful symbolism that empowers her message because the meanings only manifest themselves as the story unfolds. There are many perpetrators in this tragedy and no excuse for the willful ignorance of the adults in these boys’ lives. But Susan leaves us wondering, is there room for compassion when Arthur’s mother “…picked up (his) shoes and examined the cotton laces but said not a single word about how the double knots might have come undone?” Or is there only rage? When I was done reading, I asked myself why the title of this book was Monday Rent Boy, when it is the story of not one, but two boys. Is Susan referring, in the title, to the boy who finally finds a path to redemption? Or the one who, through his best friend’s redemption, is given the chance to find himself and live again? Perhaps she is referring to each “Monday Rent Boy” who must live alone, with the same paralyzing secret as Arthur and Ernie. “Our silence, when it came to certain subjects, was buckled to our chests like a safety harness.” Monday Rent Boy is a reminder that, even in the darkest times, “we don’t have to wear the chains that life forged for us.” There is still much work to be done to address the crisis of online predation and child pornography, but in writing this book, Susan Doherty dares to “unbuckle the harness of our silence.” Don’t shy away from this important book. Read it slowly. Or twice.
This book was so hard to read and yet so absolutely necessary. I am fortunely (unfortunately?) not easily shocked by the depths of depravity of this world, and I was shocked repeatedly through this novel. The honest and no hold barred way this was writen, with such grace and honour to the subject and its victims is unparalleled. It broke my heart 10 times over. But it is SUCH an important topic. I am utterly blown away by Susan Doherty's ability to find the words and do this justice.
I did not enjoy reading this book. The author’s work to understand the complexity of child abuse, its proliferation, the powers that protect it, the tools that conceal it, was considerable, therefore rendering this story deeply troubling and devastating. Still, as the author is deeply human, she refuses to write off her characters. We learn that child sexual abuse kills souls and makes them vulnerable to becoming instruments of great evil, even as they continue to walk the earth.
Still, there is no easy grace for the Church, for any church that allows such abuse to continue.
I found this book quite hard to get into. It didn't feel very well written. But slowly, it sunk it's teeth into me, and I couldn't put it down. It is a challenging read, a heartbreaking subject, and the end, which is beautifully written, hits you like a freight train.
The subject matter is so difficult and I commend the author for taking it on. She’s created a compelling story of characters who I felt such empathy for.
Monday Rent Boy is a nuanced, emotionally-charged novel with well-developed characters. I found it extremely hard to put down and came away feeling as if I’d known teenage friends Arthur Barnes and Ernie Castlefrank personally. Each boy has heartbreakingly unique reactions and coping mechanisms to try and process, or avoid processing, the ongoing traumas they suffer and the crimes perpetrated against them, and there are some truly important tropes here: the idea that when Catholic altar boys first came forwards about grooming, rape, and ongoing pedophilia in the church, few were believed, and the victims themselves were frequently blamed; and of course the notion that hurt people, hurt people. For Ernie, you can see how it feels impossible for him to break the cycle of abuse he’s suffered. He’s so beaten down and rudderless, I got the sense his very own actions feel to him beyond his control. Yes, there is a lot about this difficult subject matter that is tough-going, and necessarily so. But this novel only underscores how important it is that we seek to empathize with those men and boys who were subject to child sexual abuse in the church. Brilliantly written and researched, filled with literary references, and including several scenes so well set you will feel as if you’re actually on the Tor in Glastonbury, or in a tiny hole-in-the wall bookshop, I sped through this book. The details about the development of coding, the dark web and search engines, viruses and security software were also truly fascinating. Susan Doherty is a wonderful writer, and Monday Rent Boy is definitely a book I’d recommend.
Monday Rent Boy by Susan Doherty was my first 5 star book of the year. The subject matter is very hard to fathom that this goes on with such regularity even though the consequences are there. In the novel several quotes were important to reflect upon. Martin Luther King said "There comes a time when silence is betrayal." The two childhood friends, Ernie and Arthur, have a secret and it eats their souls and causes them to do illegal things. They live in near poverty and their families are broken by different things, but it left the two young boys vulnerable. Arthur was the first to be the 'golden boy' and then he was replaced by Ernie in the web of 'the Zipper'--the priest at their church of which their mothers encouraged them to be altar boys. Through real life events, the author has created this story of the two boys, but has used real happenings and has brought in real events in this fictionalized story. I had borrowed this book before the end of 2024, but knew I could not give it the attention it needed so I returned it and waited to read it again. While reading it, I had to stop and do others things because the story was too emotional for me. As of teacher of 30 years, I only thought one child I taught might have been abused and I reported it to my principal and talked with social workers and counsellors who were trying to help him. Another teacher told me her suspicions about a boy in her class and we contacted the authorities. There was a quote from the book which I will end me review with-"the only thing necessary for triumph of evil is for a good man to do nothing."
Brilliant book. While not easy to read in some places, love seems stronger than perversion, and makes it possible to keep reading. The characters of Arthur and Ernie are so lovable. An amazing job of character development. The relationship between these boys and their mothers and Miss Phillip has given me pause to think about some relationships in my own life. There are many points of entry into the injustice of this story. I am also gobsmacked at how well crafted the book is... the unfolding mystery and the clues that come at the right time. Thank you to author Susan Doherty for opening up the conversation in the public in such a nuanced and beautiful way. It seems strange to use the word beautiful with respect to such a topic, but beauty, truth and love through friendship have the final say. It also has me thinking about how long things need to simmer and in some cases at a huge cost before healing is possible. Thank you, Susan Doherty for this work of art.
Monday Rent Boy tackled a very difficult topic regarding sexual abuse and exploitation of children and the long term effects that this trauma holds in the body, mind and soul of the survivors. It is very well written with excellent character development, making clear their story and the negative effects not only on the main characters but also friends and family around them.
While it was difficult and, at times, incomprehensible, to read, it is a story that needs to be told and is probably more common than we realize. The long-term effects of trauma left untreated is becoming more and more recognized as a troubling reality in the world we in which we live. More people need to be aware of this so as to intervene and hopefully get the help people need.
This is just an exceptional book....based on the story, structure, pacing, character drawing and the honest and raw writing....The subject of a system and pattern of both abuse and compliance is, of course, tough. But the characters of Arthur and Ernie, and others are very richly and honestly drawn...real boys, real interior speech, and open dialogue that is sensitively addressed and honored. It's also a complete page turner, hard to put down. Devastating and maddening things happen, but the story poses complex questions about survival, and hope and thriving in the face of insidious crimes. Amazing.
Well....this was not at all what I was expecting. Knowing what a "rent boy" is would have been a good start to being somewhat prepared for this book.
I did appreciate the writing skill in allowing Arthur to come to terms with what happened and at the same time easing the reader in as well throughout the book. While there was nothing excessively graphic within the book, the allusion to it built throughout the book and was quite uncomfortable to read.
Would I read it again? Probably not, knowing now how it goes.
Dropped the fifth star because I felt like the Miss Phillips part was rushed and we ultimately just sort of loose touch with Arthur.
After reading this novel I had the pleasure of meeting the author, Susan Doherty. She came and spoke to our book group in Boston. What a fascinating meeting. She was so open about how she painstakingly wrote this novel. All of her research and caring insights come through in her writings. This is a hard subject but an important one. The author tells a page turning story about two boys that have been sexually abused. Hard to read at times but also uplifting in some ways. A very thought provoking read. I highly recommend it.
Spoilers below!!! Essential plot and character stuff.
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This is a necessary book for a beginner like me to learn how certain things work in certain communities that I would never want to take part in but that we need to know about in order to protect children and other potential victims from them. It draws you in with lots of emotional turmoil and suspense ad angst that you will probably identify with... everyone has a story to tell about shame and guilt and fear they have of more shame and guilt being thrust upon them by life, or that shame and guilt they have getting out of hand. Arthur and Ernie did nothing wrong until they were forced by life to do wrong things and then get condemned for them... Arthur, out of fear for his life and his future, refused to go with Ernie to tell the school admin that the priest was raping them, so Ernie-- who already unjustly had a bad reputation for simply growing up in a so-called "no good" family-- was disbelieved and then promptly and savagely condemned and shamed and punished and tormented and even mocked by the very people who were supposed to protect him, Arthur and the other boys in the school and church and surrounding community. Arthur carried the guilt from betraying Ernie in that way for years. That was bad enough. Ernie's story is more complicated, or at least seems so to me. He ends up forced to do disgusting things to kids that were done to him, but then when he has a choice he at first doesn't leave, and that made me think twice about him. Why didn't he just take the money he'd already made and move and get a job in a new town where his family wasn't known and and not look back, or ask Arthur to help him? Then I realize the guy was brainwashed... by both the town he grew up in including the priest, and then by the very dark people he got caught up with. That he really would never amount to anything, and furthermore that his soul and identity and future and present and chances at redemption or even at helping anyone else already were irretrievably soiled/spoiled. But eventually something shocks him to his senses, and he does ask Arthur for help and he decides that while it may now be too late for him because his own brainwashing ended too late and now he's worse than just a criminal himself, he can prevent the same fate ... worse, actually... from happening to another young boy. He saves the boy in the end, enlisting Arthur's help.
I had a lot of emotions reading this book. I got so mad at Arthur's oblivious mother for not putting two and two together tho she had a lot of chances in the story to do so, with so many clues bunched together... him and Ernie trying to burn down the church, not all the boys having special crucifixes but him and Ernie the "bad" isolated boy having them, Arthur stealing things like underpants and laundry detergent from the store... She even saw Arthur sad/sullen/acting out/stealing underpants to replace his bloodied ones from being raped, for God's sake (tho she didn't get why he might be stealing underpants... she thought he was just a kleptomaniac... just like she didn't know why he might be starting fires in the church... I guess she thought he and Ernie were just arsonists)-- and what did she do but decide it was time to invite the offending priest over to give him a spiritual lift! So maddening!
I cried when little Hughie was saved and going to a foster father... Arthur, in this case... who would understand the trauma he was going thru.
I was a bit impatient at Arthur and Marina and her assistant and her friend whom she looked at the mysterious lamp with and the former cop who deciphered the code on the tapes... I was like, "Get onto this, already... there are kids out there about to be murdered and you guys are saying things like "Later, I need a vacation" and "I just need to forget about it and put it behind me."
I was also a bit impatient at Lisetta, Arthur's girlfriend in university. Like, she was so smart and tuned in... surely she figured out what was going on with Arthur! She wanted him to come to tell her in his own time, but she ended up losing him because she waited too long... they broke up.
And I was impatient then at Arthur for not telling her despite them being a couple, because how can there be intimacy without emotional intimacy? But then, Arthur was scared of intimacy tho he wanted it badly. He was afraid any form or intensity of intimacy would hurt like being sodomized by Father Ziperto did, in every way.
I was terrified for Ernie and Arthur, for their well-being, whenever they went with Nathan to the warehouse where the pictures were being developed. I felt so, so sorry for all 3 of them. I just wanted to say "Get out now!" I know that Nathan WAS majorly involved, but I was still angry on his behalf that he took the fall for Father Ziperto a lot. But there is more to unpack there and I might need to make a few more reviews to do so.
Oh, did I mention I loved the subtle humor in the book? The stuff about stealing laundry detergent and the store owner going "What the hell-- laundry detergent???", Father Ziperto being aptly named The Zipper, Arthur stealing bits out of books for funny reasons, "I'm looking for Mr. Barnes." "He died in the 70s." "ARTHUR Barnes. Is HE alive?" and even some of the sad maddening stuff like the priest coming to "give Arthur a spiritual lift" after Arthur is depressed (but BECAUSE of the priest abusing him!) is funny in a sad maddening way. Irony, I guess.
This is an incredibly dark, heavy and disturbingly heartbreaking book. I don't know what I was expecting but certainly not this. The end was horrible and I am shocked that there are no trigger warnings included.