Monstrilio is a book in the same vein as Frankenstein, but it feels so relevant to our current times and my own generation (millennial), especially as both a teacher and a parent.

This book is all about grief, especially when unprocessed, turning into enabling and entitlement. (At least, this is what I took from it… but there are a ton of different ways a reader could interpret this.) And BOY does our generation have a problem with enabling and coddling our children! (I say this with love, since I understand we want to protect our children from the trauma we endured.)

Magos and Joseph aren’t surprised when their son Santiago dies at 11, but the grief is insurmountable. They each react in their own ways, but Magos cuts open her son’s chest and takes a piece of his (single) lung, which contributed to his death.

Where Frankenstein was repulsed by his creature, Magos is not. Frankenstein neglects his creature and creates in him a deep resentment. But Magos feeds and nurtures the lung, and it grows into a being, a monster. She LOVES the monster like she loved her son and would do anything for it regardless of the destruction it creates.

I think what surprised me the most was that this creature was not her own secret. It was shared with Joseph, her friend Lena, and her mother and house caretaker, and eventually Joseph’s Uncle. They all, each suffering their own griefs, contribute to the enabling of this creature to grow, to learn, and to eventually become more human-like against its own nature.

I both feared and felt so much compassion for M/Monstrilio/new Santiago. He was terrifying, and yet, his destruction was enabled at every turn by those whose grief had fed him.

I left this book feeling SO ANGRY, but also sad, lonely, and terrified for humanity—in the best way possible.

If you want to see it this way, this book is a cautionary tale to examine your own life and see what you are grieving the loss of, whether that be love, a parent, opportunities, youth, or something else. And see where that grief creates a soft spot in your life. What monster are you allowing your own grief to feed?