In the dark of night, a monster calls at Conor’s home. He wants to tell Conor three stories, and in return, once the monster finishes his last story, Conor must tell the monster a story of his own. Something true. Conor knows what story the monster wants him to tell, but it terrifies him much more than the monster terrifies him.  

You see, Conor’s mother has cancer. She’s been ill for a while, but she reassures him constantly that she will be alright. Conor’s grandmother, his mother’s mother, has come to stay and has been trying to prepare Conor, however clumsily, for the fact that soon it will be necessary for him to live with her. She tries to make Conor see the truth, whereas his mother doesn’t believe he is ready for it. She is in denial herself.

A Monster Calls is basically an extended metaphor for loss. It’s well-written and engaging but oh so sad. So, so sad. The metaphor is built through the monster’s three stories and driven home by Conor’s own story at the end, although there is more to the book than their conversations. The monster’s three stories were far and away my favorite parts of the book. They have a fable-like quality, but they’re deceptive in that way. Just as Conor – and the reader – thinks he has figured out the message or meaning behind a story, the monster throws it on its head. The story is not what it appears, and any message it contains is more difficult to parse than Conor thought. 

Conor’s story he eventually tells is also not what you’d initially expect, but once it’s told, it’s just as true and moving as it should be.

Siobhan Dowd, who originated the concept for the book (novella, really), was prevented from writing it herself because she died of cancer before she could. Knowing that, it’s impossible to read A Monster Calls without thinking of how Dowd’s own story is weaved throughout its pages.

A Monster Calls will appeal to readers who crave something more literary. It will also certainly appeal to fans of Siobhan Dowd’s thoughtful and moving stories, but it’s very different in style and tone from Ness’ Chaos Walking. It does a credit to Ness, showing he’s capable of action-driven stories as well as quieter (but no less meaningful) tales. (Of course, both Chaos Walking and A Monster Calls are pretty depressing, but in different ways.) 

I’ve been fortunate in that I have yet to experience the loss of someone as close to me as my mother, so I wasn’t as affected by the book as someone else might be. I encourage you to read this review on Goodreads for a really moving depiction of how A Monster Calls can affect someone who’s experienced a loss like Conor’s.

Jim Kay’s dark illustrations are a good addition to the book, particularly his depictions of the monster. The monster seems to be made out of shadow, but he’s well-defined enough – with his jagged edges and looming size – to be very firmly there and not a figment of Conor’s imagination. While the book would have been good on its own, Kay’s illustrations really enhance the mood and add another level of meaning that would not have existed otherwise.

Review copy received from the publisher. A Monster Calls is available now.