After a fire claimed the lives of both his parents, 12 year-old Will Henry became the unwitting apprentice of Dr. Pellinore Warthrop, his father's former employer. Dr. Warthrop is a monstrumologist, one who studies (and hunts) "life forms generally malevolent to humans and not recognized by science as actual organisms, specifically those considered products of myth and folklore" (Monstrumologist front matter).
The action of The Monstrumologist begins one night in 1888, Will Henry is roused from his bed when an unexpected caller arrives bearing the fresh corpse of a pack-dwelling monster.
I wanted to get buy a copy of The Monstrumologist because Simon & Schuster, the book's publisher, had announced its plans not to continue publishing the popular, award-winning series that The Monstrumologist opens. The good news is that Simon & Schuster has since reconsidered their decision and will publish at least the fourth installment (book 2 is out already and book 3 is forthcoming).
I found The Monstrumologist to be well-written, but a bit gory for my taste. That's a good thing, though, because The Monstrumologist is one of the only young adult books I've read lately that I can actually imagine a teenage boy reading. Really, why are so many young adult books so heavy on the romance?
In any case, here's a passage I bookmarked:
Perhaps that is our doom, our human curse, to never really know one another. We erect edifices in our minds about the flimsy framework of word and deed, mere totems of the true person, who, like the gods to whom the temples were built, remains hidden. We understand our own construct; we know our own theory; we love our own fabrication. Still... does the artifice of our affection make our love any less real? (362)So very observant and not at all what I'd expect to find hidden in a horror novel.