Monster--- A book review

Just finished A. Lee Martinez's engaging story, Monster.

I will freely admit that I don't dabble in the world of SciFi on a regular basis. It's nothing personal against the genre, just not overly fond of the alien world-building that so many times can weigh down an otherwise pleasant story.

There is a certain finesse, which is necessary to introduce a new set of 'rules' outside our comfortable reality. Some authors have that finesse, others don't.

A. Lee Martinez has that finesse.

The title-character, Monster Dionysus, a human-like entity who changes colors every time he wakes, is a member of Cryptobiological Containment and Rescue Services (CCRS). He spends his nights, with the help of his inter-dimensional paper gnome helper, Chester, bagging cryptos. Got a problem with Yetis raiding the ice cream freezer at your local grocery store, just call CCRS and they'll contain, bag and remove your unwelcome intruders.

Monster's tedious job and tedious relationship with his demon-girlfriend, have his horribly tedious life spinning in circles. If not for a chance encounter with a helpless human, Judy--- who has a hard time remembering that she even met Monster (witnessing magic is very unsettling, something better off forgotten), Monster's life may have continued down its path of self-destructive boredom.

It's isn't long before Monster realizes that his fate and the fate of the Universe itself is somehow tied to this ridiculous human who has a penchant for attracting cryptos at the most inopportune times.

Not a difficult read. There isn't any great and ponderous theme to boggle the mind---just a straight-forward, often comical, neat little story.

My only complaints were that I didn't find the character of Monster engaging/endearing at first. The intention was to play him off as a jerk, I get that, but even jerks have soft spots that occasionally peek out. Monster does redeem himself at the end, but I kind of expected to see the merest hint of redeeming qualities somewhere other than the last couple of chapters.

The only other complaint I had was the dialogue-- which came off (in a few spots) as corny or forced as a means to explain what was going on.

All in all, a fun read. I'd recommend it to anyone who enjoys stories outside the norm, who likes a little comedy and allusions to demonic love-making.

I is for...

... Iron Maiden

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? ---Edgar Allan Poe

---and not the English heavy metal band from East London...

Day 2 in the realm of morbid/macabre torture devices finds us back in the Middle Ages (there was definitely a fashionable trend of imaginative torture devices during this time). Though, the Middle Ages isn't really when we should be turning our attention when we discuss the Iron Maiden. In fact, there has been some debate as to the exact appearance of this monstrous creation.

It's probably easiest to relocate such a torturous thing back to a time when it seemed everyone was as skilled at exacting a confession as they were at creating the tools to exact those confessions. It's easier to blame ancestors from several hundred years ago than to accept that anyone of civilized disposition would be capable of doing such horrible things with such terrif…

Y is for Yeth Hound.....

Yeth Hound--- one of the incarnations of the "Black Dog" myth, this one located specifically, in Devon, England.

"Black Dogs" appear in myths across the world, most are associated with death and bad omens... i.e. Hell Hounds.

The Yeth Hound is said to be the spirit of an unbaptised child that takes the form of a headless black dog. The Hound wanders the woods at night making pitiful wailing sounds (though, I'm unclear as to how it makes wailing sounds without having a head).

The Black Dogs were possibly one inspiration from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's ghost dog in The Hound of the Baskervilles-- "an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen."

Heed Not, the Lonesome Cry
Heed not, the lonesome cry, the baleful wail echoing through the woods. Seek not, the black hound's sigh, look not where the headless creature stood.
One sound, your limbs will shake, your heart filled with the deepest dread. One glimpse, your sou…

V is for...

... Vrolik Museum

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? ---Edgar Allan Poe

How about a morbid museum?

Still used by the medical faculty and students at the University of Amsterdam, the Vrolik Museum is a unique collection of odd bones and skulls, pathogenic specimens, and an assortment of anomalous embryos.

The collection was amassed by Dutch anatomist, Gerardus Vrolik (1775-1859) and continued by his son, Dutch anatomist and pathologist, Willem Vrolik (1801-1863). And since Willem's death, various donations have expanded the collection even further. Most specimens are human, though a few zoological specimens have trickled into the collection. Preserved remains, plaster casts, and various models show an assortment of congenital deformities and malformations.

This is one of those places that isn't for the faint of heart---certainly not for those who are easily moved or triggered by…

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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