Monster and Boy

The monster that lives under a young boy’s bed decides to show himself one night after the boy’s mother proclaims that there is no such thing as monsters. When the boy screams, the monster accidentally swallows him, and, when the boy comes out, he has shrunk to the size of a grasshopper. What follows is a night of searching together for ways to restore the boy to full size, including discovering the boy’s sister ransacking the kitchen for candy and the boy’s accidentally being dropped into the toilet. When the sister finally suggests that sleep might help, the monster is reminded of his mother’s story about how what monsters dream comes true. They go back to bed, and the boy tells the monster the story of how they met as the monster falls asleep. A postscript confirms that, the next day, the boy has returned to his normal size.

An original, unusual, and occasionally lyrical story, Monster and Boy fills a space between picture book and early reader, but it never quite reaches the potential of either. The story is fantastical, alternating with slightly bizarre asides from the narrator, and occasionally attempting to be sweet and touching. But the story never quite adds up. The toilet incident is precipitated because the boy tells the monster to take him into the bathroom so they can talk, away from his sister, but the reason why is never clear. The monster is unfamiliar with the names and locations of typical human objects and yet is able to locate the candy without help. The monster-dream device is clever but overreaches when the narrator proclaims that “Everything we think is real is here only because a monster dreamed it.”

The “monster under the bed” theme is treated respectfully, even wistfully, and although it is never clear whether the book’s intent is to quell the fear of monsters, the story is gentle enough, and even ironic enough, to provide an opportunity for what could be an interesting interaction between a child and an adult reader. As a beginning chapter book, however, the theme is likely to hold little appeal for those over the age of seven. For some readers, it might be charming and comical, for others it might even seem pretentious. Strangely, the lyrical prose almost reads as though it were originally written in another language and something intangible was lost in the translation. And maybe that’s why Monster and Boy is imperfect—it’s not sure what audience it wants.