Monstrumologist: A Not-So-Young Adult Book Full of Victorian Horror

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So while sitting here at my desk, procrastinating from doing any work this morning before class, I started thinking about things to write to you all about. I almost wrote half a post about my current struggle with my fitness goals, but then thought to myself two things: One, like I mentioned in my last post, I feel that we're not at that stage in our relationship yet, dear reader. And two, how cliche to being spewing my woes, grievances, and shortcomings to the world without so much as a warning or an introduction. Again, fair reader, we may get to that stage in our journey in time, but not now. I feel that I have spared you a great deal, and/or have, with hope, provided you with a much more entertaining read than that figment of a post. So without further ado, I present to you The Monstrumologist.

Rick Yancey's eighth (I think) book The Monstrumologist, is by far one of the most extraordinary tales of the macabre. The series of books (for which there are three already written and a fourth concluding volume on the way) centers around a young Will Henry, orphan and assistant to the leading expert in his field, Dr. Pellinore Warthrop. The book, primarily set in the Spring of 1888, opens like a true Victorian novel; it is comprised of a story within a story. We actually begin in 2007 when William James Henry passes away and folios apparently written by the deceased are discovered and perused by an author (I think we are meant to think that Rick Yancy is the author that reads the fortuitous find). We, the readers, then dive into the first three folios chronicling Will Henry's earliest days with the doctor. The folios are written in first person past tense, as if Will is looking back on his time with Warthrop (I personally wonder what has made him take the time to reflect upon his journeys with the doctor in his present). I would like to take a moment though and briefly discuss the job/role of a monstrumologist.

"Yes, my dear child,  mosters are real. I happen to have one hanging in my basement." 

The stuff of fairytales is indeed out there! As much as modern society tries to cover it up, monsters are in fact hiding under our beds, lurking in the graveyards, and preying on unsuspecting travelers in dark wooded areas. It is the job of these esteemed monstrumologists to find them out, study them in the greatest detail, and document them all in the name of science. I think what strikes me as very genuine about Warthrop is Yancy's portrayal of him as truly a man of science.  While he is able to become clouded by emotion (especially when memories of his father are concerned), he attempts to distance himself as much as possible from belief to instead rely solely on logic and evidence. 

“Our enemy is fear. Blinding, reason-killing fear. Fear consumes the truth and poisons all the evidence, leading us to false assumptions and irrational conclusions.” 

Evidence is of utmost importance to Warthrop, and rightfully so! He is at heart a pure scientist, not to be swayed by assumptions, judgements, and feelings. AND YET! As the second part of the definition describes, he must eventually encounter these monsters.

“There are times when fear is not our enemy. There are times when fear is our truest, sometimes only, friend.” 

Because he is dealing with living things, things that feel, that react, that have all the assumptions, judgements, and still a rational sense of preservation, Warthrop must accomodate and account for what he lumps together in one great word, "Fear." 

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The monster that this book mainly focuses on is the ancient Anthropophagus (anthropophagi for the plural: second declension masculine plural .... ima nerd). Anthropophagi have appeared in the works of Herodotus and Shakespeare among others. They are described by the former as wild and savage cannibals, and by the latter as "men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders" (Othello Act 1, Scene III). Shakespeare also mentions them in Merry Wives of Windsor, but both times he actually is referencing a legendary creature (also a non-fictional Nubian tribe described in the late Roman histories) called the Blemmyes. This creature is described as a headless human with it's face on it's chest and eyes placed in the shoulders. Shakespeare combines this creature with the accounts of anthropophagi (who were described as drinking out of the skulls of their enemies and wearing the scalpes on their chests.... not unlike a head in their chest, eh?) and created what Yancy horrifically brings to life in The Monstrumologist.

I've never actually been scared to read a book. I'd like to report that I'm still not! But boy does this book give you the heebyjeebies every so often. Very gruesome accounts of everything.... but gruesome in a good way! I'd definitely recommend this book to anyone who likes a little Victorian horror on their reading palate every so often. And while I do say that it has a Victorian feel to it, please note that because it's a modern book, it is streamlined and reads smooth. 

Also, the book won the Michael L. Printz Award for Excellence in Young Adult Literature.... which is beyond me. I love this book and would love to share it with my kids.... eventually. BUT! And I strongly stress this: This is not a kids book. This is a book for kids in high school. Maybe mature middle schoolers. Dunno, I do think that with all the gore (not too much but just enough to make it sufficiently horrific) and mature themes of death and such.... not too 13 or 14 year old appropriate. But that's just my opinion.

At the end of the day, I'd say read it and tell me what you think! 

Title: The Monstrumologist

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Publication Date: Sept. 22, 2009

Page Count: 448

ISBN-13: 978-1416984481

Rating: 9 (out of 10)

[Edit: sorry I've been MIA for a bit.... had finals last week (GAH!) and finally had some time to write and finish this post. Hope it was worth the wait! I'm going to be trying to put something up here about once a week now, so check in every so often!]

[Edit: Oh! And thank you to +Jennifer Eichorn for recommending this book/series to me!]

Hesitations: The War Inside My Head

As I sit here struggling with my decision to start this blarg and fill it with meaningful (HA!) and intelligent (dos HA!) insights from my life, I hesitate. Why do you hesitate, Christopher, you might be asking yourselves right now. Well. Like I have said before in Porpoises I want this space to become a garden of my intelect, a tub of legos for my imagination, and above all else a sacred place for me to come and expose my thoughts. And yet while that is all good and perfect in thought, it means I need to let go. I need to break down the walls that hide my private ideas to allow them to inhabit this imaginarium. That's a big step.

Mercedes-Benz Ad - source Eric Dye : ChurchMag

It's kinda funny when I think about it. If I were to go back to my undergraduate campus and ask the friends that I still have there how they would characterize me, I think most would talk about the extracurricular activities I was a part of. I was president of the student musical theatre troupe, president of the all male a cappella group, and involved in the chamber singers. Very artistic things. And yet here I am in a Ph.D program for physics. Now I'm not saying that these two areas are mutually exclusive (in my life or in the external reality), but I think we can all agree that they are vastly different areas of interest. So where does that place me? I often feel caught in the middle of the warring sides of my brain. Part of me wants to literally quit my job and become a dj, while painting landscapes of the sea, and start a theatre troupe. The other parts wants to devote my entire existence to learning computer languages, researching areas of astrophysics, condensed matter, and even biology (as touchy-feely as it can be), and reading, reading, reading everything that comes my way! My hear-rate is actually rising right now at both of these extreme possibilities. I am a passionate, analytically imaginative, and calculating person. I am comprised of opposites.

To me this is a very good and handy thing!

Going further in this vein of thought is, from my point of view, building me up to be this amazing bridge between a large divide, which is not my goal at all. Far from it. While I love having both sides of my brain very active ( I mean we all do, I am just unsure if a lot of people experience a war between their ears), I feel like I'm not particularly good at any one thing. I can be half-decent artistically and half-decent analytically, but I cannot be actually good at either one.... Although that sounds awfully close to a big fat cop-out. I think I'm just making a very elaborate excuse over my shortcomings. Okay. I think that I'm getting a insy-weensy bit too self-indulgent now.

But back to the original point I was trying to make. Because we know each other in only the aspects in which we interact with them (i.e. undergrad friends see me in an artistic light, grad friends see me in a physic-y light, my fiance sees me as crazy, etc), we in a sense can end up sheilding parts of ourselves to each respective group. We act differently around different people and essentially become a conglomerate of different identities resulting in one consciousness.

Exaggeration? Maybe. Who knows, maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill here. I guess what I'm trying to say is it may take a while to find myself here... to form a personality appropriate for the medium.

I guess we all feel at war with ourselves some times. Some more so that others. In this crazy world we live in with technology connecting us faster and faster, it's no wonder a person could go quite mad!

Yep. Any excuse to bring up The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

Aflong Aflongkong

So as I'm still defining and creating this new blarg of mine, I'd like to take minute, just sit right there, I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-air. 

I couldn't resist. No I'd like to take a moment to point out the origin of the name of this thingamajig: Aflong Aflongkong. The link will explain the reference. 

I love these weird nerdish references. I tried to imbue a bit of that in the url for this blarg as well! (Extra points if you get it... it's kinda lame, but it's me) So in conclusion: it was either going to be named Aflong Aflongkong or How Do I Taco? I love the internet age.

Porpoises

...and by that I mean purposes.

So last night in my spur of the moment decision to make a fresh new blarg, I didn't stop to think what I would actually put here... something that future me would need to figure out.

Now that I'm future me I need to think about this.

I would very much like to have this page be an open place for books, tech, music, movies, nerdisms... really whatever the cuss I feel like talking about. Yes, I think I may employ the swearing technique fabulously used in Fantastic Mr. Fox. But that's besides the point. I want this space to be a safe space for me to dump anything and everything into.

If anyone has topics they wish for me to explore on here, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I'd love to have dynamic discussions about topics interesting to others (and hopefully myself as well)!

So in conclusion, we all need a mind palace...

(source: TheRunningSnail, DeviantArt)

... or imaginarium, and I intend for this place to be mine.

I need a new hobby

Welcome!

I need a new hobby... Actually before we get to that let me just say a few words about myself so that way all you Eager McBeavers out there reading this (i.e. no one) get a feel for who your author is. So here are a few words about myself:

Candle, Barbell, Wink, Sink, Brink, and Link.

I think that should do it! So now back to the action: I need a new hobby. Being a Physics Grad student is great and all and while I have plenty of duties awaiting me (diagonalizing n by n matrices, time evolving ground state wave functions, etc.) I want to make something! WITH MY BARE HANDS! I want to chop down a tree, while building a computer as I white-water raft down a river. And because I cannot do any of those things separate or simultaneously, I'm starting, yet another, blarg.

So strap in, wait for the drop, mind the gap, and watch your head.