First off, he lived in a compound that included an amusement park, all surrounded by a moat. Employees were forced to abide by an odd confidentially clause, nobody was to approach Monster, nobody was allowed to talk to him, his family, or other employees. Monster ate what he called Living Food, glided instead of walked, and sometimes acted like a child. He giggled—and he actually believed that he was once a Black dude, but “changed” into a white one.
Oh, yeah, Monster was a freak. A mega-talented, insanely rich freak who needed a personal chef. And Gibson needed a job.
It was the most boring job he’d ever had.
Entire weeks went by when he wasn’t needed and since there was no point in making a menu for a “ghost,” Gibson started breaking rules. He knew he wasn’t allowed to talk to the gardener, or to discuss Monster’s weirdness—but he did. He knew he wasn’t permitted to approach Monster’s wife, or to befriend her. He also knew it wasn’t okay to kiss the Boss’s wife but, oddly, Monster somehow knew about that and he didn’t seem angry. It was all so surreal, made even worse by the drugs that Monster was obviously using on everyone at his Lair.
Gibson knew he needed to leave—but could he?
Just like its antagonist, “Monster’s Chef” is weird.
Even though there’s some mild hair-raising here, this book isn’t exactly a thriller and it’s not a mystery. Author Jervey Tervalon’s novel actually seems jumbled, in fact, although it’s strangely addictive.
I don’t think this book is for everybody. Definitely, though, if you’re a lover of weird tales, “Monster’s Chef” is one you’ll eat u.
(“Monster’s Chef” by Jervey Tervalon, c. 2014, Amistad, $24.99/$31 Canada, 214 pages.)
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