Monstrilio

This feels like a modern classic. Also, every character is gay.

Monstrilio begins seconds after parents Magos and Joseph realize their son Santiago is dead. This loss rocks them, and they cope in different ways. Their relationship waxes and wanes, with each abandoning the other in turn.

Still, their lives remain intertwined. Largely because Magos has salvaged a piece of Santiago and turned it into a little destructive demon. And I know what you're thinking, oh it's a powerful metaphor for the grief she is perpetually saddled with. And yes, sure, but also it very much is a sentient real being that others can see and interact with. And it is a him. And she names the him Monstrilio.

This is a disturbing, beautiful book about how we move on from emotional wreckage. It is a story about family, home, and change.

It speaks to how grief cannot be civilized or tamed. No matter how long it remains our companion, it will always retain its wild edge and ability to suddenly hurt us. The rawness of grief may and even probably will dull over time, but nothing will map exactly over the hole grief leaves, or stop the sadness from seeping out around the edges.

It is also a book about maladaptive coping. Being in the throes of grief and fully accepting a loss are not one and the same. Sometimes pain is harder to let go of than to live with. When, decades later, we are still letting our grief consume us, sometimes we forget the value of the life still here.

If you want a morally gray book about every kind of love and/or like some grotesque little guys in your books, pick up Monstrilio. It's not a fun or entertaining beach read (especially if you're squeamish and prudish like me), but it is very good. The cover is magic and it would be a wonderful class reading. Move over, Catcher in the Rye.