This surprised me in a great way! I expected more horror, but it ended up a immersive, sensitive, quiet, tender exploration of family and grief and human relationships, with just enough creepiness, sight derangement and a lot of casual queerness, with prose I could eat.

Not quite exactly a horror novel, even though the plot summary is a perfect jewel of horror imagery. Instead, Monstrilio is more a meditation on identity, family, and the bounds of acceptance. I was surprised that this book was so queer, and loved the analogy between queer identity Monstrilio's identity. But unfortunately we don't spend a lot of time reading from his perspective, and that was the strongest part of the book for me. Solidly written and a quick read, but sadly I didn't love it as much as I thought I would.

I liked being surprised by this book, it's not what I was expecting tonally or genre-wise. Simple, effective prose and a soft-hearted story about loving a lil' baby monster, what's not to like. 3.75 stars.

Grief is monstrous. Anyone who has lost a loved one—be it from natural cause, a long illness, or an unexpected accident, knows that when they give up their final breath what is left in their wake is, often, a monster. It moves into your heart, and mind, and gut, and even though it may hibernate for long stretches of time all it takes is a certain scent, or a song, or a certain reflection of the sun, and that monster is fully awake, all teeth and claws and blind fury. We can’t escape these monsters, so we have to learn to become friends with them, to love them. To accept overwhelming, unbearable trauma and grief and yet continue to live fulfilling lives.

It is into this knowledge and experience of grief that "Monstrilio" bravely charts a course, with the fantastic serving to make real what normal, human experience struggles to express. This story doesn’t have a traditional plot, but instead follows the life of one family who experience something horrible and struggle to live with it, each in their own ways. It doesn’t feel rambling or bloated, there is plenty of forward motion, but it is more of a reflective exercise than one weighed down by typical structure. No matter what we want to believe, grief doesn’t follow a strict roadmap.

The characters were really alive in this astounding debut novel. I felt and understood each of them, and cared for each of them. The writing was direct and unassuming, without much purple prose, but it felt right for the story, gentle and inviting even as it described the monstrous. The novel is divided into four parts, of roughly the same length, and each is told from the point of view of a different primary character. This was really superbly done, with each part fitting together as clearly part of the same whole and yet still being different enough to reflect the mindset and particularities of the different characters.

Grief, that inevitable monster, is really just a reminder that we had, we have, love. They are two sides of the same coin, and that means love, too, is monstrous. "Monstrilio" brilliantly guides us, with longing, outstretched claws, to discover what it means to live with the unimaginable, and see how in both its wildness and its hibernation it is an opportunity to love.

I want to thank the author, Zando, and NetGalley, who provided a complimentary eARC for review. I am leaving this review voluntarily.

I loved every single second of this book.

Monstrilio is a wildly unique queer literary debut about grief, loneliness, love, and sacrifice. It is labelled as a horror, but I think I'd categorize it as closer to horror adjacent. There are absolutely horrific, violent, graphic elements to the story, but the purpose was not meant to frighten, rather to tell a vulnerable story about a family formed by grief.

Monstrilio is about a family living in Mexico City who loses their young son, Santiago. After he dies, his mother cuts open his body and removes a portion of his lung, which she keeps in a jar. She later starts to feed this piece of lung, and it turns into a monster whom they name Monstrilio.

The book is told through the point of view of 4 different characters: Santiago's parents, their best friend Lena, and the final POV is from Monstrilio himself. Each different point of view slowly reveals more about the relationships and motivations of all the characters, and it was compelling to see how each of them handled Santiago's death and Monstrilios creation.

In addition to the book being split into 4 sections with each point of view, there is also a lot of change in scenery, which I really enjoyed. The story starts in Mexico, then moves to New York, Berlin, back to New York, and ends in Mexico. I can tell the author has spent time in most (if not all) of these places, as the accounts of the food and the beauty and even the air in each location felt so honest.

The writing was gorgeous. Lush and gripping and descriptive without being distracting. I highlighted so many quotes. I was truly impressed with this debut and cannot wait to see what else this author comes out with!

*Thank you to Netgalley and Zando for the gifted ARC in exchange for an honest review*

First of all thanks to Netgalley and Zando Projects for letting me read an eARC of Monstrilio, it was a truly great experience. For a debut this was an incredible and well paced read that placed provoking questions about humanity in the middle of the horror. The novel starts with the parents grieving the death of their child and the lengths they go to find a new solace by trying to fill that gap. The journey that takes afterwards is highly unexpected but completely enthralling. While the beginning was slower than the rest of the novel I would argue it ultimately benefits the novel. By building the world and characters that surround the monster it makes getting invested in the novel so much easier. I loved how we got insights not only into the titular monster of the novel but also the characters that surround him and whose lives are interwoven with his. You ultimately come to relate and sympathize with them and what it means to not only lose someone but also be different. I highly recommend this novel if you love horror on any level, stick with it and you'll be highly rewarded by the time you devour the whole thing.

Excellent novel about dealing with the loss of a child and the terrible things we can do to deal with grief. Vibes of The Babadook and Heredity but I think that just comes from similar subject matter.

Incredibly original, moving, weird and just fascinating. There was so much sadness mixed with horror in it, and that combination worked out extremely well. I can't wait for this book to release so I can recommend it to other readers.

I tend to check out reviews ahead of starting a book, and I saw someone compare this to Frankenstein in Baghdad, a book I absolutely loved. While I can see where some of the comparison comes from, I think this is a wholly original book that I loved in a different way. This literary horror novel was compelling from the very beginning and it has universal themes related to parenting and grief. Overall, I highly recommend it.

This is a story of horror- because when parents think of losing a child, it is terrifying, but when they lose that child, it is a whole new level: horror.

The aftermath is grief, and this is absolutely a story of grief. Each of the four parts is told by one of the characters in the novel- how they deal with their feelings, and how they see the others dealing. The loss of Santiago takes a long time to reckon, and each person in his life has a different coping method. The reader feels the heartbreak acutely.

I honestly don't remember descriptions of place or time in this novel- I only remember the characters and their grief, though I can picture Santiago and Monstrilio clearly in my head, and I can see their actions and reactions to others clearly. I think the author reached his goal- this book is all about the boy and his memory.

Four stars.

Thank you to NetGalley and to Zando for the ARC.

This was a very unique story. I usually don't love when stories have several different POVs, but it was fine here, since every perspective had something interesting the others didn't. Does this story have a deeper meaning beneath the surface? Probably. But I'm not a student anymore so I don't have to analyze if I don't want to. In any case it was an enjoyably weird read

3.5 stars
Monstrilio is beautifully written and has much to say about loss and grief. It reminded me of one of my favourite books of 2022 - Chouette by Claire Oshetsky - but I think it's because I love that book so much, that this one didn't resonate with me. I didn't feel as invested in the story. I also felt the story lost momentum in the middle. It's obvious that I'm in the minority though - so many five star reviews!

OH MY GOOOOOOOSSSSSHHHH!
I have been pining after this book for quite some time, and finally, Zando Projects has accepted my NetGalley request for an Advanced copy of Monstrilio, and I am eternally grateful. Monstrilio is set to hit shelves with a publication date of March 7, 2023.

Monstrlio by Gerado Sámano Códova is an almost modernized take on Dr. Frankenstein's monster, taking inspiration from Latin lore to be created most horrifically.

Magos and Joseph have lost their young son. He didn't make it. He had a weak set of lungs, and they couldn't keep up, causing him to pass on. Stricken with grief, Joseph falls into a depression, and Magos flees their New York home to return to her family home in Mexico, seeking refuge from reality with a piece of Santiago in tow. Upon her visit, she learns of a miracle tale where one family could resurrect a loved one by feeding a dissected body part from the departed.

With a piece of Santiago's lung in her possession, Magos begins to feed the dilapidated organ until one day, it grows and transforms into a mangy, murderous monster that sucks the blood of whatever has a pulse, humans included. With time, the secret gets out, and Monstrilio, as they call it, grows to hold a hunger that can't be satiated.

After a few experimental tests and surgeries, this broken family can live somewhat as one again. However, these still-grieving parents are making selfish choices to coax their egos, making a son out of something that should have been relieved of its misery years prior; it's still an interesting take on modern monsters. It's a monster that eats raw meat and has a stump where its tail used to be, but it walks and talks and holds a job at a bookstore and feels emotions, but also gets a murderous rage from time to time.

I enjoyed this book! It was an interesting and well written depiction of death, and grief, how it can consume a person. I did find it a little meandering half way through, and it lost a little steam when it switched characters perspectives.

This wasn't at all what I expected. I had convinced myself this was a horror novel, but when I went back and read the synopsis, it says this is <I>literary</I> horror. Meaning, this isn't what most of us picture when we think "horror."
I could even argue that this novel fits more with books I've read in the past that are tagged as "magical realism," but none of this really matters.
Regardless of my expectations, I ended up enjoying this book for what it was.

So, what was this book about?

Monstrilio is an intimate look at four main characters, at the lives they have lived—sometimes apart, but never disconnected. A little monster is created and he becomes something more, something that unites all of them.
For they all love this creature, and they collectively raise and protect their little Monstrilio—despite what his nature demands of him.

I don't wanna say more because I think it's best going into this one with as little detail as possible. The synopsis gave the perfect amount of information, IMO.

Just know that this isn't going to deliver what you get from your average horror novel, this is its own thing. There is some body horror/blood/gore (so trigger warning for that), but it's so minuscule in relation to the novel as a whole.

The writing was fantastic. Córdova created an atmosphere that was downright perfect.

There's not much else to say other than this was so unique; an impressive debut.

My only qualm...

I wanted more. This was slow-moving. It felt as if I was constantly reminding myself to be patient— that what I desired from this book would eventually come along and quench my thirst.
I didn't really find that satisfaction, not completely anyway. I was content with my reading experience, but a little underwhelmed when I reached the end.

Thanks so much to NetGalley and Mando Projects for this ARC in exchange for my honest review.

oof magoof! This novel!
You gotta read this one when it comes out! Such a thought provoking horror story by Gerardo Sámano Córdova. As we know I have this hard time relating and enjoying books that are heavy on the motherhood aspect (sorry sundail), but I absolutely loved this take, and the added queerness exploration just hit home even more!

Trust me you want this on your preorder list!

Thank you Zando Publishes for the ARC …killer it with this cover! Might need a physical copy

This was so good! I loved the easy to read, yet poetic writing style. The story was so different but did such a good job of exploring grief and who you're "supposed" to be. I also really enjoyed reading from different perspectives and so glad we got to hear from M.

I am a big fan of unconventional tales of parenthood. Raising a child evokes such a range of emotions that, as a mother, I often question what the heck is going on. So I think weird, supernatural tales about children make complete sense. And Monstilio, the debut novel by Gerardo Samano Cordova, is an incredible example of the form.

Monstrilio is a beautiful, gruesome tale, told with real tenderness. Magos and Joseph lose their son, Santiago, at age 11. Ravaged by grief, Magos removes a piece of her dead son’s lung, pops it in a jar, and feeds it meat. Unbelievably, the lung grows into the titular Monstrilio, and the family adjust from grief to dealing with a creature who hungers for blood.

Monstrilio is one of the most beautiful books I’ve read this year. It says so much about family (genetic or chosen), grief, suppression of desires, art, and love. The switches between narrators adds a wonderful dimension to the story. The story flowed so well; and the final narrator (no spoilers!) concluded the story in such a fitting way. A devastating, inevitable, but satisfying ending.

Highly recommended for fans of Chouette, by Claire Oshetsky.

3.5 stars. opens with a haunting beginning which sunk its fangs (no pun intended) into me, forcing me to wanna keep devouring the novel. does lose some momentum during the middle, especially when we get into lena’s perspective which for me didn’t feel necessary. do think the third person perspective in the opening worked a lot stronger at depicting the emotions of loss/grieving as somehow the later chapters with the first person perspectives watered it down for me. also, love the fact that a lot of the main cast of characters were queer. all thing aside, it’s an engaging book, and i had a good time consuming it.

many thanks to netgalley and the publishers for supplying me with an early reading copy in exchange for my honest review.

When I first started this book, that last thing I expected was to be crying at the end. The worst part about reading this book was not having a physical copy to annotate, and I rarely annotate books.

While on the surface this book is about grief and loss, I think even more this book is about identity and self and authenticity, and maybe even a little about unconditional love. There’s honestly just a lot of layers to this book and I can not express how much I enjoyed it. The writing style was both beautiful and easy to read. I also loved how each characters voice was distinct and the writing style changed to fit each character. Although this book did have a few horrific moments, I would definitely emphasize that this is not a horror book, or solely a ‘monster’ book. It definitely feels more like a surreal ‘lit fit’ book, a character think piece.

Honestly I think this is a book that is best to go in blind. I requested an arc mainly based off my adoration for the cover, and now I would consider it one of my favorite books. If your favorite part of Hereditary was the mother’s monologue at the dinner table, this book is for you. If you like the the weird and surreal ‘hot person lit fic books’ this is for you. And honestly if you have ever grappled with grief or felt like a monster yourself, this is for you.