The title is from a Nietzsche quote and accordingly the soul of this novel very much has to do with who the real monsters are. Nominally, in the story, they are the unnamed foes responsible for a deadly terrorist act which resulted in a nearly 14 year war. Brown leaves it cleverly anonymous and all of the locations are unspecified, mainly a generic Western city and a generic desert setting. Kind of a genius way to write a commentary of the continuing West/East geopolitical conflict without having to entangle the plot in all the specifics. This way is seems easier to concentrate on what’s really at stake, which is an ugly demoralizing deleterious effect of war on a person. The story is told through dual alternating narratives addressed to a child by both of his parents, a father fighting overseas and a mother left alone to reevaluate her views about the war. The former plot line becomes increasingly terrifying as the latter turns soberingly tragic. This is by no means an easy read, but then again with this subject matter it shouldn’t be, in fact how discomforting it is testifies to how effective it is, just as how compelling it is despite all that testifies to Brown’s talent as an author. This was his debut too, very awesome. I’ve now read all three of his books to date, in reversed chronological order and they were all very different and all very good. Brown has certainly matured as a writer in some respects, but this one makes it obvious that he was good straight out of the gate. Enjoyable isn’t quite the right word to describe this reading experience in particular, because it seems to imply certain lightness, so maybe gratifying is more appropriate. Or maybe just something like I’m glad this book exists and I’m glad to have read it. Thanks Netgalley.

Real monsters is a really interesting look at the hero worship and fetishization that has become of military service since 9/11. The book starts out with what seems to be descriptions of actual monsters but what ends up being clever parallels to what the government turned the "other" into to justify an apparently never ending war. I almost gave up on this book about 15% in because the male protagonist, Danny, was just so vile, and the language he used seemed gratuitous just for the sake of it but I'm glad I didn't. I don't know if this was intentional on the author's part, but while Danny didn't get any less vile the majority of the rough racist edges seemed to smooth off and quit detracting from the plot. Lorna, Danny's wife, was the real treasure of this book. She has no idea what she's in for as a soldiers wife and between her and Danny's letters to their child that comprise this story, we watch her grow into an independent strong and vital presence. The ending chapter is a short, sharp ride and really the only perfect way to end this story. Very well done and a great read.