A The Millions "Most Anticipated" * A Goodreads "Nonfiction Hit (So Far)" —
"De Rozario transfixes with her idiosyncratic blend of film criticism, social critique, and autobiography. It’s a unique and touching account." — Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"With clear, precise language, Dinner on Monster Island is a taut and riveting collection. Despite being published by the American Harper Perennial, it isn’t U.S.-centric, which makes its viewpoint that much more refreshing." — Los Angeles Times
"A penetrating series of personal essays from a writer and visual artist....The weight of the author’s cultural criticism works to deepen the personal narrative, and the author ties those aspects together in a way that feels both natural and compelling. This simultaneously lucid and experimental text will appeal to those seeking a memoir that scratches a layer deeper than expected. Thematically and stylistically, this is a book with resonance." — Kirkus Reviews
"In Dinner on Monster Island, Tania De Rozario brilliantly exorcises the demons of her upbringing—an evangelical mother, homophobic policies and culturally pervasive fatphobia—using horror films as an outlet and metaphor for her estrangement. As a writer, De Rozario is searing, stirring, and soaring.” — Kevin Chong, Author of The Double Life of Benson Yu.
"Dinner on Monster Island is a hidden gem of 2024 that you definitely won’t want to miss.' — Book Riot
"Tania feeds her queer readers an extravagant multi-course banquet of queer resilience, created joy, persistence, and self-becoming that you’ll want to both savor and devour." — Sassafras Lowrey, Author of Lost Boi and Kicked Out
"Just like the horror stories at its core, Dinner on Monster Island is propulsive and hair-raising, its precisely evoked monsters all the more harrowing for being of our world. Yet Tania De Rozario doesn't falter as she cuts a path to becoming herself. She rises, the blood-soaked vanquisher, and she calls us all to let our rage set us free. This immensely moving story shows that art-making, making beauty, is resistance; it remakes us human." — Thea Lim, author of An Ocean of Minutes
“Tania De Rozario is both a perceptive commentator on culture and politics, and a moving archaeologist of her own past.… her work is poignant, thoughtful and curious.” — Alix Ohlin, author of Dual Citizens
"Unique in its melding of personal narrative, film criticism and social commentary, this collection of essays is as heartfelt and lyrical as it is sharp and searing. Tania De Rozario candidly shares her experiences growing up queer in Singapore among monsters both seen and unexpected." — Ms. Magazine
"De Rozario’s collection of essays describes an excruciating yet necessary rite of passage through loss and transformation, a passage that is eloquently, vividly and often painfully recounted. Despite loss, there still is magic." — Cha Journal
2023-11-11
A penetrating series of personal essays from a writer and visual artist.
Growing up as a multiracial, fat, and queer person in Singapore, De Rozario, author of And the Walls Come Tumbling Down and Tender Delirium, has long experience with exclusion. In school, she was enrolled in a mandatory weight-loss program; at home, her mother staged an exorcism to drive the queerness out of her tween body. “Everything in which she staunchly believed—thinness, heterosexuality, god—I wholeheartedly rejected,” writes the author. Readers will be impressed by her stoicism and hard-won wisdom. Though De Rozario tempers her rejection by mainstream society and her family with an irrepressible spirit and resilience, she doesn’t sugarcoat her challenges. A memorable thread throughout is her adult reckoning with her birth country and family as an expat. Her deceased mother, in particular, is a poignant point of examination, with the author revisiting in intimate detail her mother’s difficult parenting, formative memories that still inform who she is today. “Obviously, we cannot take our pasts with us,” she writes. “Somehow, this is both gain and loss.” The dual tones of heartbreak and relief provide ample backdrop for her investigation of her past self. Interwoven with this personal material are focused, incisive cultural analyses of women in the horror genre. De Rozario discusses classic films such as Ringu, The Exorcist, and Carrie, alongside explorations of the horrors of being a young girl rejected by society. The weight of the author’s cultural criticism works to deepen the personal narrative, and the author ties those aspects together in a way that feels both natural and compelling. This simultaneously lucid and experimental text will appeal to those seeking a memoir that scratches a layer deeper than expected. Thematically and stylistically, this is a book with resonance.
An engaging blend of personal narrative and the meaning of “monsters” within the horror genre.
