I hopped from the cart. Before me were the gates, and beyond those was the hill with its row upon row of markers marching upward to the summit, which was hidden behind the boughs of mature oak and ash and poplar. Behind me, completely gripped by fog, lay New Jerusalem, its inhabitants slumbering in sweet oblivion. Little did they know and less could they suspect that upon that elevated lay of land, the island of the dead rising from the sea of gentle spring mist embracing the living, dwelled a waking nightmare against which all sleep-born nightmares paled in comparison (p 50).
With the Monsrumologist, Rick Yancy has created an atmosphere so terrifying it stiffens the reader, just as the gruesome Anthropophagi inspire bone-freezing fear in their victims. Yet Yancy strings those fears into a chaplet of beautiful horrors that will keep you turning the page, though your will trembles to do it.
Do not read this book at night. You will have nightmares. It is by far the scariest book I have read. It is also one of the most beautifully written YA books I have read. This is the sytle of writing I would give the Printz Award to… but it walked away with a Printz Honor Award so I must be satisfied.
If your nerve can handle it. If your imagination needs to be balanced… forget those wimpy lovey-dovey vampires and the illusion of ferocity. Yancy delivers the real man-eaters.
wordstocking 