Monster Blood Tattoo, Book One: Foundling

A brief word on reading in New York City's subways. First, it is wonderful. Every weekday I have on average one-and-a-half to two-hours of pure reading time. That's a pretty significant chunk (1/12 of a day). However, there is another plus to reading on the subway: it is a way to hide. My book is a tortoise's shell, whenever I want I just pop my head in-between the pages. This allows me to avoid high school tourists singing " Santa Fe" from Rent (although that was actually very amusing), crazy men screaming and ranting that MLK Jr. was a whoremonger, kids selling candy for god-knows-what, and of course the cursory panhandler. It also allows me to take a breather from New York's freneticism, its overwhelming characters, and the poisonous vapors that come through whenever the doors open.

That brings me to: drawbacks. Let's be honest, reading on the subway is not sitting at home in late-afternoon light with a cup of lemon tea listening to classical music. Reading on the subway often means reading the same sentence two dozen time because A) you were eaves-dropping on some suit's take-over-the-world conversation, B) your eyes were straying to a dread-locked dude playing Mario Brothers, C) your focus (though not your eyes) was pulling to the woman who is proclaiming that Christ is coming, or D) you just have no idea what train is what on the weekend. In other words, sometimes the shell isn't as dark or thick as I want it to be, and despite my best efforts I still can't avoid being drawn into the daily show that is New York City.

Another reality: for subway bibliophiles you have to choose book size wisely. For example, I have to keep checking out manageable copies of Shakespeare's plays from the library because I simply can't cart around the hefty Complete Works. Finally, by reading on the subway you must accept that people will look at what you are reading and judge you accordingly. I thought about reading the Bible (since I'm trying to finish that as well) but then I realized a portion of the populace would judge me as an over zealous-Christian-fundie-rightwing-missonary while others would want to compare with me their 'finding Jesus' stories. I decided to avoid such associations, and read Monster Blood Tattoo instead.

Before I begin my Monster Blood consideration, I should explain my job. I currently work as a Children's Book Buyer at an independent bookstore. For the purposes of these pages, this means I will be writing about a significant amount of children's literature. This also means I have access to tons of books before they go on sale. Monster Blood Tattoo releases in May. Currently, I am reading a galley; it's an unfinalized version of the book that publishers send around to allow stores to review the book before they decide whether or not to buy.

I have one chapter left of Monster Blood Tattoo, but feel sufficiently well informed to write about the book (which got the Australian writer a six-figure deal and a trilogy). Let me start off by saying that I love fantasy. It's one of the only 'genre-fictions' I am drawn to regularly. On the other hand, I am pretty picky about my fantasy. No one touches Tolkien. C.S. Lewis is a genius. And contemporaneously, Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time series and Harry Potter are the only fantasies I read consistently.

Monster Blood Tattoo while enjoyable does not belong in the realm of the aforementioned. It contains an incredibly well crafted and pretty original (considering how difficult it is to be original in fantasy or sci-fi anymore) world. Apparently, Mr. Cornish spent many years crafting the world before drafting the story. This is not surprising, the detail is staggering and for the most part believable. The world is most closely comparable to a few Miyazaki films and the later Final Fantasy video games.

Fantasy is known to a genre of pretty awful writing, but D.M. Cornish does not fall into that category. His style is entertaining and interesting, his dialogue especially crisp and character-driven (I loved it when his monsters opened their mouths). Still, his writing does lack something, a kind of visceral (and if not that, mythical) quality that makes us delude ourselves into believing this is a real place and not just some planet misting in Cornish's mind.

While the writing was overall pretty good, the plot lacked some punch. The beginning drew me, as basically the story is simple and one I particularly enjoy: child-protagonist on a journey into the world. Where, of course, things are neither what they seem nor what he expects. Cornish does a nice job of instilling his hero, Rossamund (a boy with a girl's name) with wide-eyed wonder and, when needed, shock at the world's cruelty. Also, it is nice to read a fantasy that almost feels prosaic, so far our hero is not a CHOSEN one; he is not out to save the world or any such thing; he posses no remarkable abilities or objects; he's just a Candide out for a wander (however there are hints of chosen-one, world-saving to come...I hope not). My large complaint with the plot is that by the end (or by the near-end) not enough has happened. It feels like I should only be halfway through the first book, when instead I am 18 pages from the end. Loose ends are tied up far too easily and conveniently, characters either discarded or returned in an altogether unbelievable style. The climax is lackluster. This is not to say the book is rotten by any means. I enjoyed it quite a lot, though I am not sure if I'll have enough reserve interest to read the next volume whenever it appears.

I must close with a word about the title. How about: what the hell were they thinking. Monster Blood Tattoo sounds like a very crappy video game or a very crappy comic book. If this book wants to be a new serious contender in the ever-more-crowded genre of young adult fantasy, it should not have a title that would make even an undiscerning thirteen-year-old snicker. Why? Why? Why? The title of the series does make (some) sense once you read the book, but that doesn't really matter, because it's the first impression here that sticks.

It makes me wonder where Lord of the Rings would stand today if Tolkien, as he initially intended, had called his protagonist Bingo instead of Frodo?



Some alternative titles:

The Lord of the Rings -- My Year Saving Middle Earth

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe -- Jesus Allegory in a Wardrobe

The Wheel of Time -- The Apocalypse, Again


(Galley, courtesy of Penguin)


Monster Blood Tattoo, Book One: Foundling

By: D.M. Cornish

Penguin, 2006

Paperback, 432 pages

ISBN: 0399-24638-X