Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Sunday, January 8, 2012 at 09:24PM 
A Monster Calls: A novel by Patrick Ness, inspired by an idea from Siobhan Dowd (Candlewick, 2011) is a heartrendingly beautiful book, one of the year's best. It's being considered for all sorts of awards, including the Cybils, where it's a finalist in the Middle Grade Fantasy and Science Fiction category.
But is that where it belongs? If the monster is real, existing as a physical entity (that's the definition in Webster's Dictionary), then yes: the book is fantasy. But if the monster is only metaphorical, then no, because otherwise it's set firmly in the real world, the one where mothers die of cancer, and there are bullies at school, and you're only thirteen. That one. Ours.
I happen to think that the monster is both real and metaphorical: that's the source of its power. But if I had to categorize the book itself, I think it would be fantasy, on the strength of passages like this one:
It had been a dream. What else could it have been?
When he'd opened his eyes this morning, the first thing he'd looked at was his window. It had still been there, of course, no damage at all, no gaping hole into the yard. Of course it had. Only a baby would have thought it really happened. Only a baby would believe that a tree--seriously, a tree--had walked down the hill and attacked the house.
He'd laughed a little at the thought, at how stupid it all was, and he'd stepped out of bed.
To the sound of a crunch beneath his feet.
Every inch of his bedroom floor was covered in short, spiky yew tree leaves. (11)
This monster leaves more than a trace--he leaves a floor covered in needles, or in red yew tree berries (37). Those aren't metaphors (Conor has to bag them up and throw them in trash, after all). Or if they are metaphorical, they are also, definitively, real.
The multiple meanings of the words real and fantasy complicate these arguments. Emotions are also real, even though they don't exist as physical entities. And it seems paradoxical that the more real something might be, the more firmly a book that is all about raw, real emotion becomes (just?) a fantasy book.
Now, whether this is a middle grade or a young adult book is also up for debate (Monica Edinger of educating alice originally nominated it as YA Fantasy). I don't think this is necessarily a coincidence: extraordinary books are often difficult to categorize. A Monster Calls isn't even the only book on our list that begs these questions. Many thanks to Zoe of Playing by the book for bringing them up (in the comments on another post). Now it's your turn.
Reader Comments (10)
It's a fine line one walks when one tries to use Magic is a metaphor for reality. I rarely like the result. But I do love unapologetic magic like Harry Potter.
Pen and Ink interviews Kathy McCullough about her YA debut novel Don't Expect Magic. I know I am going to love this book because it's about a teenage Fairy Godmother who finds out it take more than magic to make wishes come true. (I always had a sneaking desire to be a fairy godmother.) I loved reading about the marketing plan Kathy put in place even before she approached an agent. Please come visit
http://thepenandinkblog.blogspot.com/
Thanks for your comment, Pen and Ink. It sounds as if A Monster Calls and Don't Expect Magic are two very different sorts of books.
I haven't read it, but have it on my list & am so intrigued by your questioning because I just finished and wrote about Chime by Franny Billingsley and I questioned similarly, not that it wasn't fantasy, but that the story under the fantasy was about a realistic topic, just couched within the fantastic. I loved your thoughtful ideas!
Sounds interesting - I haven't read it. But one thing that caught my eye right away is how the book is credited: "Inspired by an idea from..." Sounds collaborative! As someone who has done a lot of ghostwriting in the past, I'm glad to see the idea and the writing both get credit.
Glad I found your blog, through Lee Wind's comment challenge. Thanks for posting.
Great post Anamaria, thought I still wouldn't shelve the book under fantasy if I had only one copy.It's about a million miles away from what I would call typical fantasy, and I think it could loose at least as many readers (if not more) by being labelled fantasy, rather than not having that labelled applied (at least here in the UK). I note the passage you've chosen, and the real berries/ needles etc but my feeling is that when you are in that much pain and loss and confusion things can seem very real even when they are not.
As to Miranda's comment above let me stree NO ghostwriting has gone on here, except in the very metaphorical sense. Siobhan Dowd was a great writer but who died of breast cancer. She left the very basic plot idea for A monster calls. Patrick Ness then wrote a new story using her idea. Out of respect for the dead author (who I believe he never met) the words "Inspired by and idea from" are use.
In our family's case, 2 parents managed to read it before the 8-year-old child got to it. Everyone enjoyed it, but for different reasons. The parents (realists) strongly disagreed with the young child (fantasy). The impact was very different on the child, who found it magical and empowering, and the parents, who found it terrifying and personal. It is good to see real children's novels (i.e., those which can be read at all ages) are still being written. Child's review here: http://biblioteca-reviews.blogspot.com/2011/12/monster-calls.html
Very interesting post and comments.
Thanks, everyone, for your insightful comments! I think it's interesting that the child reader at Eight Cousins felt so strongly that the book was fantasy, while adults tend to see it as more real. And Zoe, I would hate for AMC to lose readers because of a fantasy label (is there an anti-fantasy bias? I suppose so). I don't shelve my own books by genre, though--and thankfully, neither does our library!
This sounds like an intriguing book. I can't wait to read it.
I loved this book, whether fantasy or metaphoric in nature. Perhaps that's the beauty of a work like this. It lies between black and white, in a space of gray, alone.