Victimized by an alcoholic stepfather and a knife-wielding maniac, young Arnold White summons a monster from beneath the old Parker farm to use as an instrument of revenge
A very quirky homage to the horror genre by Boyll first published in 1991. Our main protagonist, Arnold White, is a scrawny 13 y.o. kid living with his two younger sisters, mom, and a drunken, abusive stepdad. I think Boyll tried to distill a series of horror tropes here into one splatstick novel, taking them almost over the top but in a very self conscious way with humor and of course, some blood along the way.
Arnold and family live in a shitty post industrial town in Indiana that basically went broke when the local glazed brick firm went belly up. The book starts off with Arnold's dad 'Weasel' Whipple getting drunk in the local dive, but he is broke and his tab is almost gone. Weasel is a determined drunk, a nasty piece of work, who works in a local autobody shop; he married Arnold's mom for some crazy reason (pregnancy scare?) and because 'boys need fathers'. Her old husband, who worked as a checker in the local grocery store, and also a wanna be author, split a while back. Arnold is a serious book worm (of course) and into, you guessed horror!
Anyway, after a foolish stunt with a pickled onion up his nose (albeit a very funny one), Weasel comes home in a drunken rage and takes it out on Arnold, putting him in the hospital with a broken arm, several broken teeth and a concussion. When Arnold wakes up, he finds an old man in the next bed, clearly on his last legs, who tells him his biggest secret-- where an ancient Egyptian mummy is buried locally that he smuggled out of Egypt in 1932. He claims the mummy will give him powers and do things for him if he says the right words. Shortly thereafter, the guy dies and an 'orderly' walks in the room. Turns out the 'orderly' is the son of the guy who helped smuggle out the mummy from Egypt who the dead old man then kicked off the boat to keep it for himself.
So, we have an old man and his son who have been tracking the guy who stole the mummy for almost 50 years, who now think Arnold may know something. Further, Arnold's nasty stepdad who gives less than a rats ass for him also begins to suspect that Arnold is keeping a secret that may be worth money; both parties are looking to get a hold of Arnie, but maybe he can get some help from the old mummy...
Ok, crazy plot, and again, almost over the top. This is also filled with horror references to films and books, especially Mr. King. You gotta root for little Arnold, trying to take on the world with a busted arm and a shattered mouth! A fun read, especially if you are looking for some splatstick. 3.5 stars, bumping to 4 because it made me laugh several times.
3.9 stars Boyll's love of the horror genre boils over, soaking the page. Mongster's bloated from water logged Midnight thunderstorms. The first few chapters were golden horror. What a shocker! The ending tugged tears from my eyes and moved my heart. In between, the novel went catttwampus. Boyll's heart may be loaded with terror but there's a comedian guffawing in his brain. Between the beginning and the end of Mongster, Boyll sacrificed creepy, slow burn terror for random comedy.
The protagonist ( a skinny 13 year old boy) hits rock bottom early in Mongster, only to find a trap door at the bottom. Mongster traces it's ancestry from an Egyptian mummy on his mother's side and an American avuncular Stephen King on his stepdad's shanty front porch. But the real monster is child abuse, wife abuse, fueled by alcohol and ego busting, menial jobs, decaying in a dead end town. Personified in Aaron's stepdad Frank, a hateful, neanderthal, white trash, alcoholic, bum rushing every living thing in his path.
Mongster's a difficult novel to review. Why? Randall Boyll made me root hard for the boy and care about the author. I feel your pain!
One day I will learn to stop reading horror novels based solely on the title and cover, but today is not that day. Dumpster diving with horror literature is far less rewarding than it is with horror films because there's significantly more time invested with books and the hit-to-miss ratio is much higher for old horror paperbacks than old horror movies. But still, how can I say no to a title like "Mongster"? What could that possibly even mean? I had to read it to find out, so here we are. Anyway, this spends entirely way too much time on the (almost comical, but not exaggerated enough to be funny) suffering of the lead kid and not enough time on anything involving the Mongster. The last thirty pages or so when the title creature shows up (a mummy with a jackal head, mispronounced as "Mongster" because by this point in the protagonist's arc of physical battery he's bitten off part of his tongue and can't pronounce "monster") are okay-ish, but it's too little too late. The horror fanboy aspects in this are pretty bunk, too. Seemingly every generation of horror nerds since the Monster Kids of the 1950s have been unable to produce horror media that does more than name-drop Stephen King or notable horror movies. Still, I can't say I exactly had a bad time, if only because I can now say I once read a book called "Mongster". What a title!
Lu dans mon adolescence, Monssstre fait partie de la collection pocket terreur. L'histoire est originale et prenante. Le héros, un gamin battu et maltraité, est bouleversante et touchante et les scènes d'horreur bien décrites vous font littéralement frissonner.