More Like the Gaslighter at the End of this Book
10 Sep 2021Today’s prompt: “Write a scathing review of a classic book.”
I suppose there are some folks out there who would call The Monster at the End of this Book: Starring Lovable, Furry Old Grover by Jon Stone a classic of children’s literature, but I must say, I found it incredibly disappointing.
Let’s start with the title. “The Monster at the End of This Book” is fine, calculated to leave readers in suspense. But that subtitle, “Starring Lovable, Furry Old Grover”? Show, don’t tell, Jon Stone. Don’t tell me how to feel about Grover. Don’t just tell me he’s lovable – develop his character enough to make me care about him as a reader.
The interior flap of the cover and opposing page are illustrated to look like a brick wall. So is the title page, with the addition of the title, credits and copyright information. No wonder Grover, who is also depicted on the title page, says “This is a very dull page. What is on the next page?” You’re right, Grover, it is dull. Whole lotta bricks, not a lot of monsters.
On the next page, in letters that take up half the page, Grover shouts, “WHAT DID THAT SAY?” Grover is being overly dramatic here. If he’d paid more attention, he could have read it before I turned the page, for crying out loud.
On the opposite page, Grover asks, “On the first page, what did that say? Did that say there will be a Monster at the end of this book??? IT DID? Oh, I am so scared of monsters!” Jon Stone clearly doesn’t trust his storytelling to get across the dynamic tension his character is feeling, because I would say the lettering does a lot of the heavy lifting for the emotional arc of this book. The letterer writes “Monster,” “scared,” and “Monsters” in pink in order to provide emphasis, and repeats the massive font trick multiple times throughout the book, including here with “It did.” Relying on manipulating the font to establish Grover’s fear is a weak choice, when this could have been accomplished by fleshing out the character a little more. The reader is left wondering, “But why is Grover scared of monsters?”
On the next page spread, Grover comes up with the idea that if we simply stop turning pages, we will not get to the end of the book where the monster is. He asks the reader not to turn the page. This instance of metafiction fails, because while Grover realizes that he is in a book, he apparently does not realize that he is in a children’s book. Have you ever read a book to a young child, Grover? If you had, you would know that they dictate whether a book will be finished or not. Sometimes they insist you must read the same book you have read to them 47 times before, all the way through, even though they know all the words by heart. Sometimes, they will toss a book away when you are five pages into reading it, and you will not get to finish it, even if you were dying to know how it ends. So you don’t get any say in whether the page will be turned or not, Grover. That’s the kid’s prerogative.
The next page spread shows Grover screaming, “YOU TURNED THE PAGE!” while throwing back his head and holding the back of his furry hand to his forehead. Good lord, Grover, get hold of yourself. Go lie down on the fainting couch and I’ll see if I can find the smelling salts. I’ve seen less melodrama in your average soap opera.
On the following page spread, Grover says, “Maybe you do not understand. You see, turning pages will bring us to the end of this book, and there is a Monster at the end of this book….” I shudder to think that for many young female readers, this may have been the first time someone mansplained to them. Oh, we understand all right, Grover. Maybe we want to see the monster.
The next several pages depict Grover trying to tie the pages together, board them up, and build a brick wall in front of them to prevent readers from turning the page, but his workmanship is so shoddy that the narrative, such as it is, moves quickly forward. During these pages, Grover complains that the reader is making a terrible mess of the broken wood. Grover once again fails to understand his audience. Kids love making messes.
In the penultimate page spread, Grover warns the reader that the monster is on the next page, and begs them not to turn the page. But when the reader does turn the page, what are they greeted with? “Well, look at that! This is the end of the book, and the only one here is … ME. I, lovable, furry old Grover, am the Monster at the end of this book. And you were so SCARED! I told you and told you there was nothing to be afraid of.” Readers would have every right to be fuming at this execrable instance of gaslighting! We were the ones bravely turning the pages while Grover cowered at every turn. To be so treated by a self-proclaimed “lovable” creature like Grover is unforgivable.
I have one other major complaint with this book. Really? You call that a monster? Grover is no Cthulhu. He is no chupacabra. And he certainly can’t hold a candle to the nuckelavee, a skinless, horselike creature from Orcadian folklore with a single giant burning red eye, finlike appendages on its legs, and a legless male torso growing out of its back. One other thing worth noting about the nuckelavee is the toxic fumes it breathes out, which killed you when you encountered a real-life nuckelavee that was not, sorry to say, confined to a book.